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1114490 | Down the Rabbit Hole | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Jack Carter, Zane Donovan, Jo Lupo, Allison Blake, Douglas Fargo",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by NEStar",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2014-01-02T00:00:00",
"words": "548",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Zane Donovan/Jo Lupo",
"Character": null,
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"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Eureka, Warehouse 13",
"Archive Warnings": null,
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} | “You called me to look at a poker chip?” Sheriff Jack Carter looked from the golden disk t to Allison Blake, head of Global Dynamics, then back.
“Yeah, but,” the scrawny man standing behind her interjected, “It's a weird poker chip.”
Carter sighed, “This is Eureka, Fargo. Everything here is weird.”
“He's right, Jack,” Allison said. “This is weird, even for Eureka.”
“Okay...” Carter leaned forward and studied the chip again. “So, what are we dealing with? Some kind of magnetic, statistic-changing, super good luck charm?”
“Not exactly,” Allison said. “It's more of a...”
“It shows the future!” Fargo piped up.
Jack couldn't help the grin that spread over his face, “Yeah right.”
“It's true, Carter,” Allison placed an open dossier on her desk for Carter to examine. “This is Gary Whitman. He came to our attention a few years ago, while he was at MIT.”
“MIT?” Carter asked. “Was he part of the gambling team?”
“He tried to be. Breaking blackjack became his main focus, so we stopped watching him.”
“What does he have to do with the magic chip?” Carter asked.
“Mr. Whitman went from being a mediocre player - who was deeply in debt - to a high roller, in a matter of weeks. We started watching him again, when we made contact we found the chip.”
“You want me to do what?” Jo Lupo was on the edge of anger, so Carter was very careful with his phrasing.
“I want you and Zane to run a covert operation to make contact with a highly-secretive government organization.”
“Okay, see that was much better than, 'Hey, Jo! Would you and Zane run off to Vegas this weekend?'.”
Carter relaxed as Jo moved her hands off her hips – away from her sidearm – and reached for the folder he was holding out.
“Why are we trying to contact this warehouse?” Jo raised an eyebrow. “Why don't we just lock the chip in the G.D. vault?” she asked.
“G.D. vault is for G.D. tech only,” Jack said with a shrug. “And, if the rumors I've heard are even half-true then the warehouse is way better equipped to handle something like this.”
Jo set the folder down, “Why Zane and I?”
Jack leaned back in his chair. “Well, mostly because Zane's the one who's been studying the chip, and if I sent him to Las Vegas with someone one else, you'd shoot me.”
“True.”
“Also, if the chip gets to Zane, I know that you wouldn't blink at knocking him out.” Carter looked at his deputy.
“Well, then -” Jo picked up the folder and removed the money clipped to it. “Viva, Las Vegas!”
Zane checked his appearance in the hall mirror for the third time. “Come on, Jo! The whole point of this field trip is to draw attention. We can't do that from here.”
“Just one more minute,” Jo called tersely from the bedroom.
“They'll probably be out of money by the time we get down there,” Zane muttered. A movement in the mirror caught his attention. Jo stood behind him in a white dress that showed a lot of... everything.
“Forget the chip, you in that dress is more then enough to break the bank.”
Jo smiled. “Enough sweet talk, Donovan. Let's go be bad guys.” |
1129695 | Dork | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by castielsass (orphan_account)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2014-01-10T00:00:00",
"words": "1,521",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - No Powers, Loss of Virginity, virgin!wade",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Spideypool, Spider-Man/Deadpool",
"Series": "Spideypool Kink Prompts",
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"Fandoms": "Spider-Man - All Media Types, Deadpool - All Media Types",
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} | Wade’s first semi-sexual encounter was at aged 15. It was a drunk girl, at a costume party who mistook him for someone attractive. She shoved him into a spare bedroom, stuck her thigh between his legs. Wade gasped and wrapped his hands around the waist of her Sailor Moon costume. But when she pulled his mask up over his face, she screamed. The flashing lights from the party highlighted the scars and pits in his skin, one diagonal scar long and harsh across his mouth. She stood back clumsily and gaped at him for a second before he could make his hands work and jerked his mask down over his face. He escaped out the ground floor window, and left her standing there in shock.At 19, he allowed himself to run away from his father, finally giving up on trying to take care of a lonely old man who still blamed Wade for his mother’s death. He had scars upon scars upon broken skin, upon healed broken bones.At 23, Wade wasn’t good with other people, especially people who he found attractive. He hated the word ‘virgin’ with a passion. He was a strong guy, built wide and thick with a shaved head and callouses on his scarred hands from manual labour. He loved Mexican food and comic books and hitting a punching bag until it broke and spilled beads everywhere. He had friends who he joked about sex with, and girls and guys he hit on, but he never expected them to flirt back. If they did, Wade didn’t know what to do. At 24, he was done. Just entirely done, finished, with the idea that he was gonna continue his life without knowing what it was like to have sex. He didn’t really think of it as a life-changing concept, but he did figure that it was like opening a levee. Once he wasn’t a total newbie anymore, he could hit on people and not like if they asked if this was his first time. Wade didn’t think too much about it, like most things in life. He threw himself into his rickety computer chair and fucked around on the internet for a while before he ended up at an escort site. A bar flashed beside the menu onscreen, updating with each new member who joined the site, and Wade had clicked on a photo before thinking. It took him to a newly established profile, some brunette twink the same age as him. His profile stated that he was new on the scene, but a quick learner. This kid knows this isn’t a resume, right? Wade thought. But he was cute. Holding up a professional camera and grinning, in his profile picture. There was a phone number just underneath it. When he tilted his head and scrunched up his eyes, the kid kind of looked like a guy he used to have a crush on. Wade dialled the number.The knock at the door surprised Wade out of the shower. What the fuck? He answered the door in a towel, grumpy.“You’re early. I didn’t have time to get dressed.” He said, turning and leaving the door open.The kid-maybe Wade shouldn’t call him a kid, he wasn’t much younger than him but he was just so small-walked through the door and followed him through to the living room.“I’m Peter, um,” he said, dropping a rucksack on the floor and wincing at the noise it made. “Sorry.”“Jesus, kid, is this your first run or what?” Wade snapped, clenching his towel. The wide eyes on the other guy’s face gave him all the answer he needed.“Shit, seriously?”“You called me like ten seconds after I made my profile! Don’t mock me, ok, I’m not a total loser.”Wade snorted. “You look like a dork.”“Rude,” Peter said, wrinkling his nose up.“No, you.” Wade said childishly. Peter giggled. Shit. Wade wasn’t expecting him to be cute.“Ugh,” he said, because his brain lived to fuck with him. “Two hundred dollars for 2 hours, right?”“What?” Peter said, eyes cast downward. “Oh, I mean, yeah! Yes, right.”“OK, well, money’s on the table.”Peter drifted over to the table and blinked at the spilling stack of cash. He turned back to Wade.“Shit. I can’t do this. Shit, I’m sorry, I gotta, I’m sorry,” he said, practically sprinting out the door. Wade kicked the rucksack Peter had left on his floor and considered following him to give it back, but fuck it. Wade closed his door, and went to get dressed.The next day, he was getting ready for work, and halfway through shaving, there was a knock at the door. He finished up and opened the door while rubbing the remnants of soap from his jaw.“Fuck, dude, you’ve got a serious thing for knocking on my door when I’m only in a towel, what’s with that?” He threw the questions over his shoulder at the startled looking boy. He picked up Peter’s rucksack from the corner of the room and threw it to him. “For future reference, it’s rude to call before breakfast.”“It’s nine o'clock,” Peter said weakly, clutching his rucksack. “And I need to talk to you.”Wade shrugged and disappeared into his bedroom to dress, leaving the front door open as the only invitation Peter was gonna get.When he came back out in a long sleeved thermal shirt and loose jeans, Peter was perched on the edge of his tiny couch, with his hands folded in his lap. Wade made his way past him to the kitchenette.“I wanted to apologise,” Peter said, trailing after him and leaning over the breakfast bar. Wade shrugged, focusing more than necessary on putting bread in the toaster.“It’s whatever, I’m disgusting, you left, it’s understandable,” he said.Wade was facing away from him, but he still felt the heat of Peter’s glare on his back.“You really think that’s why I left,” Peter realised.Wade turned back to him, lifting his shoulders.“You don’t recognise me?” Peter asked and Wade scrunched up his face in confusion.“We went to high school together. I used to sit behind you in biology class, I had…like the biggest crush on you.” Peter said.Wade blinked. His toast popped up behind him.“I was a little shorter, had longer hair. Big thick glasses. I’m…they used to call me Puny Parker?” Peter repeated, putting his hands down firmly on the counter. “Look, I know this is weird and awkward and rude, but I wanted you to know why I ran out of here yesterday and it’s not because of your scars or whatever, I just didn’t wanna deal with… money,” he said, his voice took on a slightly desperate tinge. “You can just forgive me, and I’ll get out of your hair.”Wade swallowed. Puny Parker, shit. Wade remembered him. He was this tiny bit of a thing, always getting shoved around by Flash and his goonies. Wade remembered tripping Flash up one time in the hallway before he could get to Peter. It was a tiny thing, but he remembered Peter looking up at him with a dazed expression, stupidly big brown eyes looking at him through coke bottle lenses. Like maybe that was the first time someone ever hinted at protecting him.“What do you mean, you didn’t wanna deal with money? You’re an escort Peter, in case you didn’t know, that’s kinda like a sex worker.”Peter lifted his hands to his head and shrugged, “I never actually had a customer before, and I came here and suddenly it was this guy I had actually really liked and he was gonna pay me to have sex with him but I didn’t want the money, I wanted-”It took maybe longer than was understandable for Wade to realise Peter still meant him. “You wanted what?”Peter made a stupid face, filling his cheeks with air and blowing it out abruptly. “To take him out! On a date or something. Fuck.”Ar 24, Wade was about to have his first real sexual experience. With a dork that still wore dumb glasses and bit his lip red raw and flailed more than any grown man ever should. But he reacted well when Wade pushed him down onto his bed, long body rolling up against his. Maybe he dressed like a hipster, and he drank weird coffee, but the way sweat pooled in the curve of his hip when Wade spread his thighs to slide into him was nothing funny. He said things like ‘mother-hugger’ and ‘fudge’ when he meant ‘fuck’, but he wrapped his legs around Wade’s hips with surprising fierceness. Wade wanted to shake him sometimes, when he was stubborn and insisted Wade sit down and listen to his stupid waves of endless compliments, but the way he praised Wade’s dick was a million times easier to listen to.“You’re such a fucking dork,” Wade panted.Peter grinned at him, eyelashes dark against his pale skin. “No, you,” he said and meant ‘I love you too.’ |
1169785 | Good Boy | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by saphire_dance",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2014-04-26T00:00:00",
"words": "679",
"Additional Tags": "mentions of Jason/Tim, Genital Piercing, Voyeurism, Femdom, Light Dom/sub, mentions of Jason/Tim/Roy",
"Relationship": "Barbara Gordon/Jason Todd",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Pierced",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics)",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": "F/M, M/M",
"Bookmarks": null,
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} | Jason waited patiently outside the elevator in the Clocktower. If Babs wanted to see him she'd let him in. He could have broken in if he really wanted to, but he'd rather stay on Babs' good side. Life was more fun that wayJason grinned as the door slid open. He stepped in and let Babs bring him up to Oracle's little nest. “Hey babe. Did Dickie-bird get the video.”Barbara didn't look up from where she was typing, but the monitor nearest Jason flickered to life. Footage of Dick stroking off in his in front of his computer filled the screen. “Oh baby, you always have the best porn.” Jason reached down and adjust himself.“And what do we say to people who share their porn, Jason?”“Thank you, Ma'am.”“And how do we say thank you, Jason?”“Any way you want me to, Ma'am.”“Under the desk, boy.”“Yes, Ma'am.” Jason crawled under her desk immediately. He helped move her so she was sitting on the edge of her chair before he flipped up her skirt. No panties, he loved a woman who knew what she wanted.Jason buried his face between her thighs lick and sucking, nuzzling aside her curls tor work at her clit. Jason had no idea if this did anything for her physically or if she just got off on the idea of having someone on their knees for her like this. She diddn't buck or move her hips, but her breathing and moaning told Jason the she was enjoying his attentions somehow. Jason just zoned out on the taste, the feel. He'd do this as long as it took to make her happy.Awhile later, his jaw starting to ache, she finally shuddered, and pushed his head away. “Strip, and kneel on the bed.”He rubbed his Jaw as he climbed out from under her desk. He did as she asked placing his clothes in a chair a little ways away from the bed and knelt in the center facing her.“There's some slick in the nightstand. Use it and turn your self about ten degrees to the left.” He didn't really need the slick he was already hard and leaking, but what Babs wanted, Babs got.Jason positioned himself the way she wanted, coated himself with the slick, and waited for further instruction. Babs wasn't looking at him but that didn't mean she didn't see him. He wondered who this video was going to be for, Dick, one of her Birds, or maybe she'd just keep it for herself. He kind of doubted the last one,Babs loved sharing, for the right price of course.Jason's patience paid off. “Good boy. Stroke yourself nice and slow. And make sure to rub your thumb over the ring once in awhile. Really show it off.”Jason did exactly as Babs asked. Each stroke far slower than he needed, but thumbing the ring sent a jolt through his body that was well worth the excruciating pace. Maybe the video was for Tim. God only knew how much Tim loved Jason's piercing. The kid could barely keep his mouth off of it. And he'd practically devoured Roy the other night. He needed to invite Roy back soon. Maybe after they sexed up Dick.“A little faster now. Play with your nipples.” Jason obeyed his thighs trembling with the effort to keep still. “Pinch harder. Have you ever thought of getting them pierced?” Tim would fucking love that. He'd bite and suck and grind himself down into Jason's lap.“Please, please.” Jason hated begging but he was so close now, and he needed her permission.“You can come now.” Jason could hear the smirk in her voice but he didn't care. He was to busy thrusting up into his hand. He threw his head back and howled as he came, splashing his belly with his hot, sticky release.He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath. When he opened his eyes Babs had finally turned to look at him. She smiled brightly. “Good boy." |
1172547 | nobody baby but you and | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, David Beckham the Cat",
"Fandom": "One Direction (Band)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by imsosorry",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2014-02-07T00:00:00",
"words": "4,296",
"Additional Tags": "Marriage Proposal, Nervous Harry, boys being dumb, Fluff, So much fluff I feel a little embarrassed to be honest, Longtime Relationship, Incredibly self indulgent, A little roleplay near the beginning",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Perrie Edwards (mentioned)",
"Series": "in the kind of world where we belong",
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} | Thursday. There's just enough snow on the ground to make getting home a nightmare, the tube packed and the sidewalks too slushy for Harry to safely navigate. He's not going to risk slipping and breaking his arse, so he crams himself into one of the eight o'clock trains. He stayed late at the office for the third time this week, and Louis is going to absolutely skin him. It's only Harry's fourth month with the big-time London publishing firm, and he hasn't exactly built up the seniority to kip off early, especially with the extra workload he's getting from Niall, who fucked off to Ireland for his brother's wedding a week ago. He's overwhelmed, and he's tired, and he's sure his hair is going grey, and he hasn't had sex in weeks. Week, singular, he thinks, wistfully recalling the rushed shower sex last Friday morning, Louis held up against the foggy glass, giggling as they tried to decide whether their organic bath soap was an acceptable form of lube. Louis had to go home to Donny for the twins birthday over the weekend, Harry too busy with work to tag along, and with his new promotion, their weekday schedules are completely opposite. Louis is serving his residency at a hospital in order to become an OBGYN, and as one of the lowest people on the totem pole, he generally gets handed the morning shifts. He's out the door by five a.m. most mornings, and almost always sleeping when Harry gets home.So. Yes, Harry's horny, but he's also twenty-three years old, and maybe sex shouldn't be this much of a priority for him. He's been with Louis for nearly four years now, but they both still go at it like champs when they find the time. He accidentally makes eye contact with an old lady whose sitting near the exit, and he flushes, as if she can hear his unsavory stream-of-consciousness. He shoots off a text to Lou, telling him he's on his way home, should he pick anything up, but of course he only gets a reply once he's off the train and halfway up the street to their house. It's a small flat, just three bedrooms, but they chose it for the nice area - not many twenty-somethings can afford a place in Primrose Hill, and they were both drunk off of their respective successes, and they signed for it without a second thought. Plus, it's on the ground floor of the building, so there's a sizable garden that's all theirs.Bring me surprises!!! Lou's texted with two emojis, a classic tempura prawn and, inexplicably, the head of a dragon. Harry rolls his eyes, fumbles with his keys for a few seconds before he's enveloped into the warmth of their flat. Louis gets cold easily, so they always keep it warm inside, even though he still steals all of Harry's jumpers and wears them around until he's complaining about the heat. "I'm home," Harry calls. Louis is probably watching TV in bed, and the thought brings a smile to his face - Lou likes to curl up on Harry's side, in nothing but a jumper and his glasses, while he watches shit reality programs.He peaks into the bedroom, but Louis is, surprisingly, not there. After a cursory glance at both the living room and the bathroom, he makes his way toward the kitchen, all the way at the back of the flat. Louis is there, of course, making a pot of tea and wearing panties.Wearing panties. "Hey babe," Louis says, the picture of casual, while Harry has a brief stroke. They're far from vanilla in bed, is the thing. Louis was the first boy Harry ever slept with, and Harry was only Louis' second, but in the four years they've been together, they've tried it all. Handcuffs, whips, plugs, the whole nine yards. But for some reason Harry's never seen the white, lacy panties Lou's got on, never got to admire the way they cling to his firm arse and make his waist look so, so delicate. "You're late again," Louis points out, pouring out two cups of tea and sliding Harry's to him across the granite countertop that Harry's got a good, firm grip on. "You cheating on me with some famous author?" The idea of Harry cheating on Louis is so ridiculous that he cracks a smile. "Yep," he says, popping the 'p' sound. "You'd really like her - she writes Harlequin romance novels." Louis grins, his eye crinkles coming out full-force. "Well, I'm happy for you two," he says. "But you know you'll never be able to please her in bed. Those romance novelists have very high standards." Harry does his best to look affronted. "I'm very romance novel-y. My great-great-great grandfather was an Earl or something." "Yeah?" Louis raises an eyebrow, although of course he already knows the full details of Harry's ancestry, just as Harry knows Louis'. Their friends and families make fun of them for it, sometimes - once, Harry had casually mentioned that Louis was one-eighth Belgian in front of Zayn, and he still gets shit for it. "It's just," Louis goes on innocently, and now he's looking up at Harry through his long lashes, and that's his absolute weakness. Then again, he's got about five hundred weaknesses when it comes to Lou. "I've sort of got a thing for aristocracy. Being that I'm just, you know, a lowly maid and all." Harry actually does a good job of choking on his tongue after that one, which he's sure Louis will comment on once this role-playing thing is over. Right now, though, Louis is looking at him all seductively, and it takes half a second before he's around the counter and picking Louis up by the waist. He works out just for this reason; Louis likes to be manhandled and Harry likes feeling like he can protect Louis. Louis' legs automatically wrap around Harry's waist, and it's doubly hot because Harry's fully dressed, in his "hipster-fancy" work clothes as Lou's dubbed them, and Louis is naked except for the panties. "Oh, Mr. Styles," Louis says in a falsely affected tone. "We shouldn't." "You watch too much fucking Downton Abbey," Harry groans, attacking his lips, but when he tosses Louis onto their bed and crawls in between the smaller boys legs, he thinks that he'd answer to Mr. Bates if it'd make Louis happy. Not that he's going to tell him that.+After two rounds of very athletic, very kinky sex, Harry stumbles into the bathroom for a washcloth. He fills up a glass of water - Lou's throat has got to be aching after the way he was screaming - and splashes some water on his face before returning. Lou is curled up on his side, peaceful and small underneath just the sheets, his panties tossed carelessly on the floor next to the bed. It's a shame they got them so messy, Harry thinks forlornly. He'll have to buy Lou some new pairs. "Thanks, Hazza," Lou croaks out. If Harry was a better man, he might not revel in how absolutely wrecked his boyfriend sounds, but. He's not."Sure thing, boo," Harry says gently. He lifts up Lou's right leg and hooks it over his shoulder while he goes to work cleaning the older boy out. This is routine; they stopped using a condom after their second anniversary when they realized this was a forever kind of thing. Lou hisses and makes a big fuss, but on their wilder nights, he makes it clear exactly how much he likes to be full up on Harry. "So I was thinking," Louis begins. "Oh god," Harry says, earning a slap to the hand. He grins and motions for Louis to continue. "You know that fancy restaurant that just opened up on Regent's Canal? Liam took Sophia there last week, and he, like, wouldn't shut up about it, so I thought maybe we could go," Louis suggests timidly. "Have a proper date, like." "Hm," Harry hums. "Sounds nice. Haven't properly wined and dined you in quite a while." "Well, we've both been busy," Louis says. "But I think it'll be nice. I can make a reservation for next Friday, if you think you'll be free? And I'll be the one wining and dining you, thank you very much. You know I make more than you." It's true; Lou makes twenty pounds more than Harry a week, and loves to give the younger boy tons of shit about it. He calls himself the breadwinner of the house and makes a big show about batting Harry's hands away when they go out for coffee and the younger boy attempts to pay. They started a joint bank account a year and a half ago, so really he's just full of shit, and if Harry didn't love him so much he might stick up for himself once in a while. "Sure, I'll be free," Harry says. The firm can't actually force him to work weekends, he's pretty sure. "Let's do it." + Tuesday. Harry's not scared of many things. Well - that's not true. He's got a phobia of most bugs and doesn't really fancy heights and he gets nightmares for ages after seeing a scary film, but he's not really scared of much. His anxiety has never gotten in the way of his basic functioning, like his ability to think straight or his appetite. Until now. He's had the ring for four months now. It's actually unbelievable that he hasn't asked Louis yet, because the question pops into his head at least three times a day. Just last night, he'd arrived home to a sleepy Louis in bed, who'd mumbled, "fuck you you fucking wanker" after he'd made too much noise in the bathroom, and Harry's first thought had been, Marry me. He's got to do it on Friday, he knows. A fancy restaurant is a classic; he's pretty sure Louis would appreciate it more than a sleepy, impulsive request. Once, a couple of years back, they'd gone to a sushi place and watched a man propose to his girlfriend, and Louis had gotten teary-eyed and said, "That's the best kind of proposal. Simple and sweet."So. He's got the boy, he's got the ring, and now he's just got to get the nerve. "I think you should open with a quote from his favorite movie," Niall suggests at lunch hour. They're at a table in the back of a hip little deli across the street from their office, because Zayn makes them go every day, so that he can flirt with the purple-haired waitress. "Iron Man?" Harry says. "I don't know if Tony Stark really screams 'romance.'" "Don't listen to Niall, he's full of shit," Zayn says. "You're already gonna be down on one knee, he's gonna know what's going on, so you don't need to beat around the bush. Be firm, be clear, be quick." "Jesus, Zayn," Harry laughs. "It's a marriage proposal, not a business proposition." "Interesting suggestion coming from someone who literally writes blank verse poetry about a waitress whose number he's too afraid to ask for," Niall comments lightly, and Zayn's glare could probably kill a lesser man. "I have her number, idiot," Zayn says. "Yeah, because you got it from Jade, you freakin' stalker," Niall laughs. Normally Harry would join in the banter, but he's so god damn nervous that he can't even eat or think or breathe, and god, is he having a panic attack? It's only Tuesday. "Haz, you know that Lou is gonna say yes," Niall says. "Do I?" Harry asks, and his voice is actually, legitimately, slightly hysterical. "Because it took him a month to decide whether he wanted to go out with me, and remember when I asked him to move in with me? He said he'd think about it and then didn't talk to me for a week." "So he was a bit of a commitment-phobe before," Zayn says. Out of their friend group, Zayn and Louis are probably the closest, barring Harry and Louis, having shared a bond for weed and comic books in college. They've (mostly) grown out of the stoner phase, but they still refuse to discuss Marvel conspiracy theories with anyone but each other. "He's not like that anymore. You've tamed the shrew, and all that." "Do you think he would still say yes if I threw up on him as I was asking?" Harry asks, and he's half-joking, maybe. "I think he'd say yes if you texted him a ring emoji and a question mark," Zayn says, and he probably means it scathingly but it just comes out sweet. "Aww," Niall coos, pinching Zayn's cheek. Then Perrie the waitress comes to their table, and Zayn all but slaps Niall away from him and smiles at her like he's constipated. It gives Harry a little hope. He may be more scared than he's ever been in his life, but at least he's not as pathetic as Zayn. +
Friday.
On The Day, Harry calls in to work, feigning illness. He waits until after Louis' has already left for his morning shift, because he doesn't want him to think he's actually sick and cancel the dinner reservations. "I'll meet you at the restaurant at seven?" Louis says, kissing Harry's forehead on his way out. Harry grunts and rolls over in the bed, pretending to be half-asleep even though he's only gotten about two hours of sleep the whole night.He spends the day deciding on his outfit and making sure the ring is perfect and practicing his speech in the mirror. He looks like a spastic idiot, he knows, but the only witness is their cat, David Beckham, and he doesn't appear to be judging him too harshly. He texts both Niall and Zayn, asking them not to tell Louis that he didn't go to work, and then asking if he can go to one of their places around two o'clock, when Louis is due back home from his shift. Niall responds that he can use the spare key under his mat and make himself at home, though he requests that he please not throw up on any of his furniture. He ends up leaving the flat around noon, loading his change of clothes in their car and driving it to a park not too far from Niall's place. He spends the afternoon walking around, panicking in a sort of peaceful way. He knows, logically, that Louis probably won't say no. They've been together four years. They talk about the future all the time. They're going to look into adoption in a few years. It's just - they don't talk about marriage specifically that often. It's mentioned abstractly, but they've never exactly sat down and hashed out the guest list or discussed who's going to walk down the aisle or what side the boys will stand on. Harry's had it all planned out in his head since basically the first moment he laid eyes on Louis, but even he's not sappy enough to say that out loud. He thinks about the first time he met the boy who would become the love of his fucking life, and it's unbelievable, it is, because the first time they met, Harry was pissing and Louis was talking loudly on the phone to his mother. It was the first week of university, and Harry was a bright-eyed freshman and Louis was his third-year RA. He'd only seen him once before, on move-in day, but Louis had been busy trying to help a girl down the hall navigate a refrigerator into her room without killing anyone, so they hadn't spoken. So Harry was pissing, and so completely taken aback by the boy's brash tone and sharp, somehow delicate features (at a time when he was only vaguely aware that he even liked boys) that he fucking splashed pee out of the urinal. He blushed furiously, locking eyes with Louis, who raised a single brow. "Oops," Harry muttered, wishing the urinal would swallow him up whole, wishing that he could spend his life in the sewers to escape this hellscape. "Mum, I've got to go, got to teach a freshie proper bathroom etiquette," Louis said into his phone, smirking.
Harry was literally about to attempt to speak Parseltongue, to see if he could Harry Potter his way into some hidden basement underneath the loo, when Louis turned his full-forced, crinkly, bright smile on him, and all he thought was, Oh. "Hi," Louis said. And Harry was a goner. From day one, he'd been borderline obsessed with Louis, wanting to know everything about the cool, beautiful, older boy, who was a pre-med major from Doncaster with four little sisters, who played on the footie team, and who was openly gay. Harry had long considered himself to be bisexual, but he hadn't ever been able to picture himself with a specific guy until Louis. From then on his life was a blur of Louis, Louis, Louis. He made friends, of course - lifelong friends, Niall and Liam and Zayn and Nick and Taylor and a whole bunch of others. Louis and Harry managed to live in each other's pockets without become the quintessential annoying couple who couldn't have other friends. It had just always been so good.Of course, they fought. Sometimes so bitterly that they wouldn't speak for days, until one of them showed at the others doorstep and tearfully apologized. Louis had trust issues and Harry had jealousy issues and it wasn't always easy. But every time it got bad, Harry would imagine his life without Louis in it, and that prospect scared him so much he could barely concentrate on what had made him angry in the first place.Their families love each other, too - their mum's are best friends and Gemma loves the girls, who hero-worship her in return, and Robin and Louis text about football all the time, and Harry goes golfing with Mark whenever he's in town. Everyone expects them to get married and Harry doesn't feel pressured at all; he feels happy. He wants to put a ring on Louis' finger and wake up next to him every morning for the rest of his life, and have a hundred babies with him and sit on the porch while Louis teaches their kids football. He wants to cook Louis healthy organic food and catch him sneaking junk food in the middle of the night. He wants to go on long road trips to the countryside where they argue about music the whole drive. He wants to have tickle fights at three a.m. when neither of them can sleep, because they're so in tune with each other that even their sleep patterns mirror each other. And now he's fucking tearing up in a park in the middle of the afternoon. He goes back to Niall's to change, and then he attempts to watch telly to distract himself. There's nothing more to do; he's as prepared as he can be. When Niall comes home, he gives him a big, smothering hug and lets Harry have a little sob on his shoulder. "There, there," Niall says. "You've got nothing to worry about. Worse case scenario, he says no, and you and I elope to Dublin." Harry laughs wetly. "Please don't say that," he says. "Oh my god." "Now, now," Niall says, patting his head gently. "I know you've always held a torch for me, Hazza. Don't think I've forgotten that time you drunkenly proposed a threesome during our third year." "Oh god," Harry mumbles. "Shut up." "But really, Hazza," Niall says, going uncharacteristically serious. "I'm proud of you. And I think you're going to be very happy." "Don't make me cry more," Harry says, but it's hopeless. He's a crier. If he makes it through the proposal without snot dripping from his nose, it'll be a miracle.+Harry arrives at six-fifty, because he'd overestimated the distance from Niall's place to the restaurant. He takes their seat at a table toward the back, near huge bay windows overlooking the canal. It's a beautiful restaurant, all natural light and neutral colors. Harry orders a bottle of Louis' favourite wine, and when Louis finally rushes in, five minutes late, he's already poured out two glasses and bitten off most of his right thumb nail. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," Louis gets out in a rush, leaning down to kiss Harry on the cheek before taking the seat across from him. "I assisted in a delivery for twins today, and those fuckers did not want to come out of that vagina, let me tell you." The date is already terribly romantic."Did you get my favourite red?" Louis asks with a smile. "Aw, Hazza." He looks beautiful. He always does, but when he actually makes an effort and puts on a well-fitted suit, it's hard for Harry to look at him without his mouth watering. His fringe is down in the way that Harry likes best and his eyes are so, so blue.The conversation doesn't flow as easily as it usually does, but Harry knows it's only because he's so nervous. Louis seems slightly off, too, his legs bouncing under the table, all jittery, but it's probably because he's just come off an eight-hour shift, bringing new life into the world and all that.They order. Louis gets a steak and Harry gets a grilled seafood platter. Their waitress seems to be smirking at them, or maybe Harry's actually gone and developed paranoia. Maybe she can see the bulge of the ring box in his pants. Maybe she's a witch. Harry had given a tremendous amount of thought as to when to pop the question, obviously, and he'd decided after dinner but before dessert; he wanted to be able to sit back and admire the ring on Lou's fingers while they shared a cake, sappier than ever before. With that in mind, Harry eats slower than he ever has in his life, and Louis actually asks if something's wrong. "No, no," Harry says. "Just got a bit of a stomach ache, I guess." Louis' eyes widen. "Do you want to go? Do you need any medicine?" "No!" Harry practically blurts. Knowing his luck, Louis would drag him out of the restaurant and he'd never, ever propose and he'd be alone forever, the ring burning a hole in his back pocket until he dies. He's not entirely sure how that would all result from leaving the restaurant early, but he's absolutely positive it would. "You still want dessert, though, right?" Louis asks carefully. Harry knows how passionate Louis is about dessert, and he probably wants to make sure he's not going to be cheated out of a red velvet cake. "No, of course, yeah," Harry says. "I'm really fine, I just - "His sentence is cut off when their waitress comes back and begins clearing the table. Harry looks helplessly at his now-finished seafood plate, wishing he'd ordered something more substantial. Perhaps three steaks. "Would you like anything for dessert?" the waitress asks, and Harry's ears start ringing. Louis' definitely ordering something, but Harry's gone and lost his motor functioning and he's maybe going to shit his pants. When the waitress leaves, Harry locks eyes with Louis, and the older boy smiles so brightly his eyes dimple. And it's the eye dimple that does it for Harry. He slips on to one knee more gracefully than he usually would; maybe he's just running on pure instinct, now. Louis' eyes widen and the dimples disappear, but Harry's not about to lose his nerve."Louis," Harry begins. "Harry," Louis breathes. "Louis," Harry says. They both look at each other and let out a small, identical laugh. "Louis, I've known you for four years and maybe that's not a lot in, like, the scheme of the universe, but it's enough to know that you're my favourite person in the world. Every day that I'm not with you is lame, and every day that I'm with you is great, and that's what it all comes down to, for me. I like you a lot and I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. More than anyone's ever loved anyone, maybe, I don't know. Will you - um, shit, let me get the ring, I meant to have that out already, fuck - " Harry fumbles around for the ring in his pocket, and Louis is already teary eyed but when he produces the ring, they both start really crying. "Will you, like, marry me, Louis Tomlinson?"Louis puts both hands over his mouth and then seems to jolt, nodding furiously. "Yes," he breathes. "Yes, I'll, like, marry you, Harry Styles," he adds, and he's mocking Harry in the best way Harry's ever been mocked. Harry slips the ring onto his fourth finger, and it fits like a charm. There's applause in the background, and Harry is pretty sure he could take over the whole fucking world in that moment. "Is that why you were acting so strange?" Louis asks, after they've thoroughly snogged. He's pulled his chair around the table so he's sitting practically on Harry's lap, but it's okay, because they're engaged now. "Yeah," Harry admits. "Jeez, Styles, someone needs to teach you how to keep your cool," Louis says with a smirk. When their dessert arrives - double chocolate cake, Harry's favorite - he takes a huge bite right away. He hasn't had an appetite in days, too strung out from nerves, and now he's ready to post-stress-eat his feelings. Except then there's a firm, cold, metal object his mouth, and he spits out a ring. Louis is watching him closely, and when they lock eyes, Louis smiles like the sun, says, "Ditto?" |
1111527 | Even Bake | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Ray Person, Walt Hasser",
"Fandom": "Generation Kill",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by buhnebeest",
"chapters": "1/1",
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"published": "2013-12-31T00:00:00",
"words": "878",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Bakery, Fluff, Pre-Slash",
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} | The dough for his sourdough/pumpkin rolls has risen to perfection.
Brad tips the bowl unto the counter to divide them into lumps before he starts shaping them. He likes to have them rough and rustic, so you can see the chunks of pumpkin breaking through the crust, which will be golden and shiny. Perfect to tear into.Victor opens at 0800, so he’s got a half-hour before the harried businesspeople and the half-asleep freshmen almost late for their morning class start trickling in for their bagel and caffeine fix, and housewives and the old ladies sneaking in for fresh buns and cookies. The ovens have been fired up and working all morning, and the entire bakery smells like freshly baked bread, and even the street outside. By nine, the place will be packed and bustling.
Ray and Walt are busy filling up the shelves and display cases with breads and cakes and pastries. He can hear them screwing around, arguing about country music, of fucking course, but at least they’re not singing it; Brad would have to go over there and murder them, and he frankly doesn't have the time. He’s got to start working on the filling for Mrs. Ferrando’s tartlets soon, so he pushes the tray of rolls into the oven. They should be done in just twenty minutes so he can leave them to cool and be ready right before—
“Morning, gents.”
Brad accidentally blurts a dollop of lemon curd on his cooling coconut macaroons. Fuck.
“Nate, my man, you’re early!” Ray exclaims, too-loud and hyper, which means the fucking junkie is already on a sugar rush and will probably crash spectacularly by 1100. “The usual?”
“Yes, please,” Nate says, followed by the sound of him taking off his coat and stowing his shit by his table. Nate’s usual is a sourdough/pumpkin roll with walnut butter and candied ginger and a large black coffee.
“Aw, Nate, you never give me anything interesting to do,” says Walt, firing up the coffee machine. Brad listens as the clatter of beans drowns out Nate’s reply, but his tone is cheerful, the warm tones drifting out to reach even Brad. He curses, quietly, wiping his hands on his apron. He manages to rescue most of the batch of macaroons, chucking the ruined ones in a silver bowl on the windowsill. At the end of the day, the bowl goes to Ray, who is a palate-less philistine and will stuff anything into his face.
“It’s going to be a couple minutes, homes. That’s what you get for being early.”
“I’ll live,” Nate says cheerfully, and then, “Is Brad in the back?”
“Uhuh,” Ray says, and he sounds like he’s smirking, the fucker. “You can go say ‘hi’ if you want, he probably won’t bite your head of.” The emphasis on ‘your’ is subtle as a brick, and Brad can hear Walt’s muffled laugh. Both of them are fucking fired.
Nate appears in the doorway in between moments, hair a fluffy mess and cheeks flushed from the chilly autumn wind outside. He's wearing the dark green sweater his mom made him for Christmas last year.
“Hi.”
“Morning.”
They stare at each other for a moment before Brad remembers that he used to be a death-dealing warrior and has never to his knowledge been a swooning teenage girl. “My opening hours not good enough for you?”
“Nope.” Nate grins, stepping closer, shutting the door behind him to cut off the sound of Ray and Walt’s retarded snickering. “I have a lot to write today, I’m afraid. I hope you don’t mind me colonizing my table for the day.”
Brad decides not to tell him that Nate on display by the window lures in most of the teenage girls giggling through their orders of elaborate macchiatos and dainty cupcakes. He’s probably single-handedly responsible for a good 20% of Victor’s profits.
“I suppose I’ll allow it,” he offers magnanimously, “Go sit by the window with your pretentious 5$ coffee and your shiny Apple monstrosity, you dirty hipster.”
“You’re the one selling me the pretentious coffee, Brad.”
“Ah, yes, but I’m the shrewd businessman in this scenario, playing into the retarded delusions of a dissolute, obnoxious subculture.”
Nate grins, leaning a little closer on the counter to steal a strawberry from the pile on Brad’s cutting board. “Extravagant and spoiled?”
Brad feels the corner of his mouth curl up. Nate bites into his purloined fruit pointedly, green eyes bright. Jesus Christ.
Three different ovens start beeping before he can get out a halfway appropriate reply.
“See you later, Brad.” Nate smiles, stealing another strawberry and heading back out the door.
Brad blows out a breath and gets to work.
Five minutes later, his brain catches up with what his hands are doing only to find that he’s holding a spoon laden with the raspberry jam meant for his sponge cake, without quite knowing why or when or how. He looks down at his tartlets. They’re decorated with pretty red swirls, cheerful and evocative, inviting a taste. The color is exactly the same as Nate’s bottom lip after he’s bitten it in frustration over a new chapter giving him trouble.
Brad rolls his eyes at himself and shoves the tartlets in the oven. |
1168556 | Promise Made | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Dale Cooper, Audrey Horne",
"Fandom": "Twin Peaks",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by ingridmatthews",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2014-02-04T00:00:00",
"words": "662",
"Additional Tags": "Sex, Porn Battle, Kissing, Angst, PWP",
"Relationship": "Dale Cooper/Audrey Horne",
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"Collections": "Porn Battle XV (The Ides of Porn)",
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} | The next time Dale Cooper finds Audrey in his bed, she's wearing the black lingerie she had donned in One-Eyed Jack's, her failed attempt at undercover work leaving her with a hard look in her eyes and a nasty scar on her innocence.
Cooper's heart constricts in his chest so tightly he can barely breathe past it. His body is drawn toward her still form, kneeling on the bed, white arms outstretched and he stumbles forward like a puppet on a string. Dale has words on the tip of his tongue, stupid words about 'can't' and 'wrong' and 'taking advantage' but Audrey brushes them all away with one beautiful fingertip feathered over his lips.
There's no resistance left. Dale covers her with his full weight, knowing he can't break her. Audrey has a frighteningly hard core beneath the softness of her lush body, fired like steel by her father and the fact that she's overly wise, like the owls that sing through the trees.
She gasps and arches beneath him as they kiss, her clever fingers undoing his belt and pants, reaching inside to stroke his already erect cock. He moans against her cherry red lips and she smiles, knowing she has him, that's she's always had him, she just had to be patient.
His arms struggle out of his suit jacket and she tears at his shirt so violently, buttons go flying, bouncing off the hardwood pine floors, the ones that Mr. Horne had chopped down by the thousands to create his hotel. Maybe the spirits that haunt the hotel come from the trees, Dale thinks for a fleeting second, before Audrey slowly slides down the straps of her corset, erasing all thoughts from his mind.
Her breasts aren't perfect, one is slightly larger than the other, an imperfection makes them all that much more beautiful. He cups them with his hands and examines them, his earnest curiosity making Audrey blush deeply. She cries out when his mouth slides over them, throwing her head back, her hands pressed to his naked shoulders.
He can't help touching her everywhere after that, running his fingertips along her throat while his hand cups her sex, his fingers slipping into her wet cunt. He notices how tight she is and part of his brain is gratified to know that he was right about her being a virgin. Audrey's hands and body are urging him to do it, to take her without thought, but he shakes his head -- that is the one thing he won't do while she is hurt and desperate.
She's upset only for a moment. He makes sure of it with his face buried between her milky legs, lapping at her with all the concentration he can muster. She stiffens, first with fear, then with wonder as her body loosens up, giving itself over to pleasure. Her little cries sound so sweet, so surprised , that Dale finds himself coming messily all over the sheets. It takes longer for the telltale signs of orgasm to wrack Audrey's tiny frame, but it happens, satisfying Dale in ways he never thought he'd enjoy again.
Not after ...
They lay together awkwardly after that, his head resting on Audrey's thigh. He stares up at her, examining her beautiful, blissful expression, her eyes fixed toward heaven. "I knew it would be like this," she whispers. "It couldn't be like anything else."
"I'm glad, Audrey," he replies softly, pushing down the twinge of guilt that's leaving a sour taste in his throat. Dale hates guilt -- it's such a pointless emotion in a universe full of them -- but he's human. All too human, he thinks as he crawls up to cradle Audrey in his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin.
"This is just the beginning," Audrey claims. It sounds like a vow.
Cooper has taken vows too, a long time ago, about how certain matters of the heart were coming to an end.
It might be time for a reassessment. |
1176458 | Tiny Hands In Your Big | {
"Archive Warning": null,
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson",
"Fandom": "One Direction (Band)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by orphan_account",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2014-02-09T00:00:00",
"words": "995",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff, One Shot, Cuddling & Snuggling, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Crying, Crying Harry, Dominant Louis, i think, oh well, Sleeping Together, sleeping, teddy bear louis, Sappy, My First Fanfic, So Bear With me",
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} | Louis woke up at the sound of sweet snoring coming from the right of the bed.
Harry.
Louis tried to move, but Harry's dominant limbs were protecting him. Louis tried to escape, wiggling around, but Harry would only squeeze him closer to his chest.
"Harry please let me go." Louis whispered.
But, Harry wouldn't move a muscle. So Louis pried himself from his love bird. Harry didn't wake up, for his heavy sleeping habit didn't get disturbed. Louis got up from their bed, and put on the sweatshirt that was laying on top of Harry's office chair. At first, Louis thought it was his sweatshirt from yesterday, but when the sweatshirt flowed down almost to his knees, he let out an amusing, "oh".
He walked bare foot to the kitchen and opened the fridge. After searching around everywhere, he finally decided to eat cereal. Hopping onto the kitchen counter, he flicked on the television that hung over the kitchen table in front of him. He switched channels until he found something decent to watch. He started to eat his cereal and soon zoned into the program completely.
It was freezing, and the rain storm outside, didn't help, but made it worse. Louis was shivering, so he cocooned himself in Harry's sweatshirt. He started to indulge himself into a movie, until he heard hitched breathing, crying, and Louis' name being said repeatedly. He turned his head back and got a bit nervous. Suddenly, Harry came stumbling out of the hall with only his black boxers on. Hot tears flowing from his eyes down his cheeks.
"Harry, what's going on?" Louis asked in concern.
Harry snapped his head to where Louis was sitting, and ran toward him. Harry ran straight into Louis' arms and sobbed into his shoulder. Louis, completely baffled, only squeezed his tiny arms around his big muscular body, taking the chance to kiss him on his head having the advantage, at the moment.
"Honey, please stop crying, please tell me what's going on." Louis asked.
That only made Harry cry harder.
"Hey. Hey. Hey! Harry tell me what's going on right now!" Louis said dauntingly.
"Louis I-I thought you l-left me." Harry hiccuped.
"What?" Louis asked.
Harry raised his head from his boyfriend's shoulder, and Louis dried his tears.
"When you woke up, and tried to get out, you said to let you go, and you tried to leave so i hugged you tighter, because I don't want to lose you." Harry whimpered.
Louis didn't say anything.
He put Harry's head back into his shoulder, and hugged him incredibly tight.
"Louis, promise me you won't leave me. I love you to much."
"I love you too, i won't dare leave your side." Louis said.
He wrapped his legs around Harry's waist and grabbed Harry's face in his hands.
"I need you to stop crying, because seeing you like this makes me want to cry myself. Stop crying, okay?" Louis whispered.
Harry nodded his head and Louis dried his tears away with the sleeves of Harry's sweater. Louis told Harry how much he loved him and how much he cared for him, and Harry's tears seemed to vanish, like if they were never there. Louis rambled on and Harry just kept staring at him. Louis felt a rush of cold air hit his feet.
"Wait, aren't you cold?" he asked Harry.
Harry wrapped is arms tighter on Louis' waist.
"No." Harry lied.
"Nonsense Harry, it's freezing." said Louis.
"Fine then." Harry said with a cheeky smile.
Harry picked Louis up from the counter and carried him toward the couch. He gently put him on the couch of they're living room, and ran back to the room. Louis curled up on the couch, desperate for warmth.
Harry came back out with a big blanket on him like a cape. He ran to Louis like a little child. Louis laughed at how ridiculous his childlike boyfriend can be.
Harry, with the blanket on his back, he hovered over Louis on the couch. His lips lingering and teasing Louis'. The blanket was on Harry's back and Louis was under Harry, basically being covered by the blanket and his boyfriend. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry's neck. He simmered him down and kissed him with such passion, that it made him smile during the kiss. Louis giggled, and that made Harry crack up. Harry rested on his elbows and played with Louis' hair. Louis stared into Harry's eyes and started to rub his nose with Harry's.
"Is that my sweatshirt?" Harry said, cocking an eyebrow with a smirk.
Louis' cheeks got red out of embarrassment.
"I think you should borrow my clothes more often... it's sorta... cute." Harry stuttered, giving Louis a kiss on the cheek.
They both ended up watching sappy movies. Harry loved them, but Louis couldn't stand them. Louis snuggled up to Harry's chest every time a breeze came in. Harry would feel how cold he would get so he rubbed Louis' back and squeezed him tighter. They grabbed and stacked numerous blankets on top of themselves on the couch.
Louis played with Harry's chest and with his finger, he would trace the outlines of his many tattoos, and write phrases on his chest. Louis would sometimes even tap his arm to get Harry's attention, and then make a ridiculous face, and would make Harry laugh his arse off.
Harry would sometimes whisper a joke to Louis and he would laugh, but Louis would close his eyes and shake this head, thinking how ridiculous Harry could get, eventually releasing a chuckle.
The day would only get colder and the rain would pour even harder. Louis grabbed Harry's hand and entwined their fingers.
"This is how it should always be. Nobody leaving or fighting or anything of that sort." Louis whispered at Harry, looking into his eyes.
"How?" Harry looked at Louis a bit confused.
"My tiny hands in your big ones." Louis said, kissing Harry's knuckles. |
1114102 | Race you | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Lola (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)",
"Fandom": "Marvel (Movies)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by candy_belle",
"chapters": "1/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2014-01-01T00:00:00",
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} | Phil didn’t jump when the garage door slammed opened but he did look over his shoulder. He saw a very familiar figure storming towards him, head bowed mumbling to itself. He finished stowing his briefcase in Lola’s trunk and, as he closed it carefully, taking care not to upset his car, he asked, “The recruits’ as bad as you thought?”“Worse!” snapped Clint. He paused a moment glaring in Phil’s direction but not glaring at the man himself. “Not one single one of them would survive in the field. They were idiots and I...” he gave a huff of frustration and closed his eyes.Phil watched him calmly, nodding faintly. His own encounter with the newest bunch of recruits’ paperwork had left him less than impressed with the current crop of agents. "It would be nice if maybe at least one of them could spell,” he agreed wearily. His voice faded as he watched as Clint draw in deep breaths and do a few deep lunges, the master archer obviously trying to work out his frustrations of the day. Phil fought hard not to smile as he took in the tempting sight of Clint’s chest covered in a soft grey t-shirt. There were few sights more appealing to him in the world watching Clint stretch.“Enjoying the view?" chuckled Clint, smirking proudly when Phil jumped, startled out of his interesting daydream.Phil didn’t dignify the query with a response but the slight blush working its way up his cheeks gave him away.Clint grinned at him, loving the way Phil was looking at him. He took a breath then glancing across to the side, he fixing Phil with a wicked smirk and asked almost seductively, “Race you home?”Phil frowned musing, “You left your bike at the Tower…” then as he realised where Clint was looking, he actually burst out laughing, cautioning, “Tony will kill you if you hurt her.”Clint just grinned at him, loving the sound of Phil laughing freely and replied, “Come on I can drive anything, you know that.”“Are you sure?” asked Phil, resting his hip against the red corvette’s side and folded his arms over his chest, adding, “We’ve beaten you the last three times we raced and that was against your beloved bike .”“That’s only cause I let you win!” called Clint running over to his own parking space. His hand skimmed over the sleek sliver beast with a black racing stripe from front to back. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the keys and as he unlocked the driver’s door he called, “Besides me and this beauty will make a great team.”“I disagree,” replied Phil warmly as he slid into the driver’s seat. He started Lola’s engine, loving the soft roar as the corvette came to life.He glanced to the side and saw Clint was already pulling out of their space. He carefully released the parking break and, as he too eased out of the parking space, he hear the comm unit in his ear click into life, and Clint’s gleeful query echoed in his hear, “You ready to be beaten?”“In your dreams, Barton,” replied Phil feeling the cares and worries of the day start to fade as he relaxed into his seat.“Winner takes all?” asked Clint as they drove side by side through the underground car park.“Winner takes all,” agreed Phil. He glanced over and saw Clint looking at him. He held Clint’s gaze for a moment and smiled. Even after all these years they both still felt the same thrill when they flirted with each other as they had all those years ago back in Washington.Carefully manoeuvring Lola up the ramp, Phil took care to keep his speed down. Clint was doing the same, both of them sticking to the speed limit of the care park. They knew better than to race where SHIELD's cameras where watching. But as they pulled out onto the pubic highway, they took one last look at each other, a silent conversation flying between them, and within seconds they were racing.to be continued.... |
1113153 | Desolation | {
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} | The ravens arrived early in the morning. Dís, Princess of Erebor was back on the road before midday. Dís had been waiting desperately for news from her brother and her two sons. Throughout their journey, Fili her eldest son had periodically sent her ravens letting her know that all three of them were safe. It had been a fortnight since Fili had sent word that they were alright. Unbeknownst to her children, Dís was already on her way to Erebor. Once her brother's raven reached her, Dís was about a two day's ride from the Lonley Mountain. By the time Dís arrived the battle was over and the wargs and goblins were dead. Little did Dís know that Thorin, Fili, and Kili were dead as well. Dís remembered just as well as Thorin the dragon fire that engulfed Erebor when Smaug came from the North. She could still hear the screams of those who were not as fortunate as Dís and her brother to escape the dragon. Dís remembered seeing Azog clutch the head of her grandfather Thror outside the gates of Moria. Dís remembered seeing Frerin's body mixed in with the bodies of her kin at the Battle of Azanulbizar. Dís remembered when her father left and never returned. Dís remembered receiving the message that her husband was dead and that she was now a widow with two young sons. Dís would remember finding out that the last of her family were dead. It was not yet midday when Dís found Balin walking amongst the dead. "Balin!" Dís called with a smile. Balin was a dear friend of Dís and the sight of him always made her happy. Her happiness was shortlived. Her smile died instantly as she gazed upon Balin's face. In all the years that Dís had known Balin, he had never looked so devastated. Not even after Moria and many of his family laid dead upon the gates. "Balin, what is wrong?"To Dís' horror she saw a tear slide down his cheek. "My dear Lady, I had just sent a raven to Ered Luin. There was a battle. After Smaug's death we were besieged by legions of goblins and wargs. Azog the Defiler was among them."
Dís felt her heart lurch at the thought that that cursed creature that had murdered her grandfather was so near her family. "Balin, where are my sons," she asked anxiously. She needed to hear they were uninjured just as Thorin had promised. Balin shut his eyes before he fixed them on the face of Dís. "They fell in battle defending Thorin. By the time we reached them it was too late. I am so sorry." Balin bowed his head as he placed Kili's talisman in her hand. Dís let forth a horrible sound, one of anguish and anger. "Balin, where is Thorin. He swore to me he would keep them safe. He swore!" Dís yelled. Balin raised his head to look Dís in the eye. "My Lady, Thorin did not survive the battle." Dís thought bitterly that it was better that Thorin was already died because she would have killed him herself. Bilbo watched as three of his companions were gently laid out on their funeral pyres. Fili and Kili lay next to each other, the dark hair of Kili intertwining with the golden mane of his brother's. Bilbo Baggins had long accepted the fact that he would die a bachelor. As a tween Bilbo never had any of the dalliances his kin were fond of. When his friends began marrying and having children Bilbo remained single and Bilbo was okay with that. However when he met Fili and Kili he felt unfamiliar stirrings in his chest. The more time he spent with the brothers the more attached he got. By the time the band of dwarves reached Beorn's house Bilbo knew that he was in love with both Fili and Kili and that they were in love with him. Balin had explained one night the concept of dwarves having a One that their heart belonged to. Dwarves only fell in love once, with what was called their One, the person that was made just for each other. Fili and Kili had explained to Bilbo that while it was uncommon, it was not unheard of for there to have more than one One. Fili and Kili knew at a young age that they were two parts of one of these groups, but the third person remained elusive. At least until they met Bilbo. Bilbo had been overjoyed in finding out he had not one but two Ones for hobbits had a similar thing where hobbits had one person that they were meant to be with. However as Bilbo watched the flames wrap around the brothers Bilbo cursed Mahal for creating Ones. The pain Bilbo felt was unbearable, he had lost both of his Ones and would never be complete again. Bilbo jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Bilbo turned expecting to see the face of Balin or prehaps Bofur coming to comfort him but to his surprise Bilbo was met with the sad smile of the Lady Dís. "My Lady, I am very sorry for your losses. Thorin was a great leader and would have made a fine king under the mountain and your sons," Bilbo choked out as he let out a sob. Dís to the surprise of the hobbit wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you for your kind words Master Baggins." Dís' eyes then clouded over in anger. "Do not speak to me of Thorin. My brother was foolish and proud and he was responsible for leading my sons on his damn quest. Thorin knew he was susceptible to the Gold Sickness that plagued our grandfather and yet he set out for Erebor anyway. I would have thought that you of all people Master Baggins would share my anger and my grief."Bilbo blushed. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."Dís gave Bilbo a small smile. "Did you not think that my sons would not have let me know that they had found their other One? Who do you think gave them the beads that you now wear in your hair? Those beads belonged to my husband, I gave him those beads, and my mother gave them to my father and so forth."
Bilbo blushed harder. "Thank you for giving them the beads. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to carry a piece of them with me. I do share your grief and I share your anger at the situation. I do not share your anger at Thorin. Fili and Kili were loyal to a fault as you know and they loved Thorin dearly. When he was struck they ignored Thorin who begged them to run. Thorin tried to get up in order to save them. Fili and Kili ignored his wishes like they often did. Yes Thorin fell for the gold sickness but do not for a second think that it contributed to the deaths of your sons. Besides, I was there when Thorin passed. The sickness had broken during the battle and he died clear-headed. Please do not turn your grief into hatred for Thorin. Please allow your sons the dignity of their choice and forgive Thorin for succumbing briefly to the Gold Sickness." Dís wiped the tears from her eyes. "You are very wise Master Hobbit. My sons were very lucky to have you as their other One indeed. Thank you for what you said about Thorin. It was easy to blame him for what happened to my sons when I knew just how reckless they were. I just miss all of them so much. Please know Master Baggins you are always welcome in Erebor. Without what you have done we would still be without a home and that is a debt no one here can ever repay.""I cannot begin to tell you how much that means to me My Lady, I would be honored to visit you and the company. Please feel free to visit me in the Shire as well. And please call me Bilbo."Dís smiled. "Thank you for your kind offer Bilbo. Please call me Dís for we are family now." As the years past Bilbo remained friends with what was left of the company. Bilbo would occasionally visit Erebor and would stay with Dís when he visited. After Bilbo adopted Frodo it was Balin and Dís who visited the hobbit in the Shire. Even after Balin left for Moria, Dís would come and stay with Bilbo and Frodo. Dís doted on Frodo and Frodo adored his grandmother. Many years later when Dís passed away Bilbo visited the Lonely Mountain one last time. Bilbo lived to see all of the company pass away, most from old age. It was finally the end of Bilbo's life. As a ring bearer Bilbo was allowed to sail West with the elves leaving Middle Earth along with Frodo, Gandalf, and Lord Elrond. As the ship sailed farther from the Grey Havens Bilbo could feel the years wash away. Soon the ship arrived in Valinor. Unlike when Bilbo went on the ship Bilbo was able to leave the ship on his own. To his great surprise he was greeted by the smiling faces of his parents. After a lengthy reunion Bilbo continued to move forward. Standing before Bilbo was Balin.
"Balin?" The last time Bilbo had seen Balin the dwarf's beard and hair was a pure snowy white. Now his hair was a lovely dark brown and the lines of grief that had been etched upon his face were gone. "Yes laddie. I can't begin to tell you good it is to see you my dear Bilbo." Balin hugged Bilbo for what seemed like an age before releasing the hobbit. "Are the others here as well Balin?" Bilbo refused to let himself hope that just maybe his Ones were here as well. Balin smiled. "Aye and they're very eager to see you." Ori, Bofur, all of the other companions greeted Bilbo warmly. Lastly Bilbo reached Thorin. Thorin looked happier than Bilbo had ever seen him.
"Master Baggins, I am very happy to see you. I just want to say how sorry I am about everything that I did. I have no right to ask for your forgiveness but if you found it in your heart to forgive me I would be eternally grateful."Bilbo flung his arms around Thorin. "There is nothing to forgive you stubborn dwarf." The two just stood holding each other as the pain of their final meeting finally washed away. Before Bilbo could say anything else he felt a tap on his shoulder. Bilbo turned around to face Dís. "My dear Bilbo, I cannot begin to tell you just how much I have missed you." Dís smiled at Bilbo before taking her turn hugging the hobbit. "Or I you Dís." Bilbo replied after a moment. "Bilbo I have two people dying to see you waiting behind me."
Bilbo felt his heart stop. He slowly walked past Dís and there bathed in light were Fili and Kili. With a sob Bilbo ran towards them. As they hugged and sobbed at finally being reunited, Fili and Kili whispered, "Fili and Kili at your service." Bilbo was finally home. |
1134328 | Vishnia | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
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"Characters": "Robert Carlyle, Josh Dallas",
"Fandom": "Once Upon a Time RPF",
"Language": "Русский",
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} | - Ладно, сейчас еще разок прогоним, а потом снимаем больницу. Джош, ты готов?О, да. Еще как. Особенно, когда Роберт Карлайл сидит напротив него и задумчиво посасывает кончик ручки, разгадывая кроссворд в воскресной газете. Джош и не думал, что кто-то еще увлекается подобной ерундой в их время. Он был удивлен, узнав, что их все еще печатают на последней странице - он обычно не дочитывает до рекламы, гороскопов, объявлений и прочей фигни. Однако сейчас он благодарен издателям за кроссворды. И ненавидит их лютой ненавистью. Ручка у Карлайла черная с серебряным верхом. Он втягивает ее в рот - губы сжимаются - и выпускает, облизывая металл и не замечая, какой эффект это производит на окружающих. Снова в рот - серебристый кончик мелькает между влажных губ, и обратно - пишет какое-то слово. Джош облизывается и поднимает голову, глядя мимо режиссера.- К чему?- К съемкам сериала, дорогуша, это то, зачем мы все здесь собрались, - Карлайл, конечно, все слышит. Еще бы - его-то никто не отвлекает зрелищем, достойным порнороликов. Он снова прикусывает ручку - стук зубов о металл эхо отражается в голове Джоша, дрожью прокатывается по телу к налившемуся кровью члену. Джош закидывает ногу на ногу, надеясь, что никто не увидит и пытается придумать, как бы избавиться от мучительного возбуждения.Карлайл продолжает разгадывать свой чертов кроссворд.- Все, я больше не могу на это смотреть! Роберт, съешь пирожное! Быстро! - Лана решительно отнимает у него ручку и сует в руки корзиночку с фруктами. - Да, да, спасибо, - Карлайл тянется за ручкой и откусывает от пирожного. Над верхней губой остаются взбитые сливки, он слизывает их языком, и Джош повторяет его движение на автомате, не задумываясь о том, как это выглядит.Карлайл берет за хвостик вишенку, украшающую верхушку пирамидки взбитых сливок, облизывает ее, перекатывает во рту, посасывает, пока вписывает очередное слово в клеточки, и наконец разгрызает. Джошу больно дышать, член стоит, как каменный, и кажется, еще немного - и он кончит без прикосновения к себе. Он ерзает, съезжает на край стула и не отрываясь смотрит на губы Карлайла. Они шевелятся, беззвучно произнося слова, Джош видит, как мелькает между зубами розовый язык, а потом Карлайл вынимает изо рта завязанный в узел хвостик от вишни.Джош прикрывает глаза на секунду, но это бесполезно - картина стоит перед глазами, намертво впечатавшись в мозг.- Так, камера - мотор! Тишина на площадке! - строгий голос прерывает фантазии, Джош чувствует, что весь взмок и медленно, с трудом выдыхает. - Джош, а ты не хочешь корзиночку? Вкусные же.- Нет, Лана, спасибо, - ему чудом удается сдержать стон в голосе.- Ты просто не умеешь их есть, - Карлайл отрывается от газеты и смотрит в упор. Джош видит, как у него расширяется зрачок и приоткрываются губы. Интересно, он с самого начала знал или только что понял?Карлайл подцепляет пальцем взбитые сливки и быстро мажет ими по губам Джоша. От прикосновения того прошибает током, ему едва удается усидеть на стуле, не схватить Карлайла в охапку и не оттрахать его блядский рот тут же, на глазах у всей съемочной группы.- Давай, дорогуша, попробуй, это вкусно. У меня младший так дает всем все пробовать - действительно вкуснее, - Карлайл облизывает палец, и невольные свидетели смеются и отворачиваются.Карлайл наклоняется вперед и одними губами шепчет: "Туалет. Пять минут".Джош поднимается и быстро уходит, надеясь, что никто не заметит выпуклость у него на джинсах.
В туалете он прислоняется к стене и выдыхает, пережидая острый приступ головокружения. Расстегивает ширинку, высвобождает побагровевший от напряжения член и проводит по нему рукой пару раз. В глазах темнеет. Надо дождаться Карлайла. Джош смотрит на себя в зеркало: раскрасневшийся, губы блестят, глаза потемнели, челка прилипла ко лбу - мда, только слепой не заметит его состояния. Придется идти переодеваться.Дверь распахивается, и Карлайл толкает его в кабинку. Опускается на колени, облизывает сочащуюся смазкой головку, сжимает рукой ствол и вбирает в себя член, неглубоко, но более, чем достаточно, чтобы Джош почувствовал его смешок, отдающийся вибрацией в самое сердце. Карлайл оглаживает руками его бедра и расслабляет рот, позволяя Джошу задавать ритм. Сжимает яички, проходится по промежности вниз и обводит ногтем анус.Джошу хватает нескольких движений, чтобы излиться в горячий рот. Карлайл облизывается и поднимается. Джоша слегка потряхивает то ли от оргазма, то ли от новой волны возбуждения, накрывающей его от этого движения. Он притягивает Карлайла к себе, целуя и ощущая вкус собственной спермы, сладость сливок и кислинку - вишня? - Так понравилось пирожное? - хрипло интересуется тот.- Так надоели твои сраные кроссворды, - с чувством ругается Джош.- Скуплю все воскресные издания, и буду решать их в выходные.- Закажу тебе сборник.Смех вибрирует на губах, когда Карлайл снова целует его, поднимаясь на цыпочки. |
1107473 | Georgia | {
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} | ..... She grows up, in a fashion. She learns that people can live in large groups, in whole towns even, and get along. Even thrive, and be kind, and settle. It takes her a long time to learn what to do with her free time, of course, even as she grows it's hard for her to settle, to be still. Maybe she will be that way forever, but she channels it, she studies hard and she helps on her new family's farm from a very young age on. She learns how big farms can be, how many people they can support, all living in their own houses with their own families. No two-a-room-to-stay-alive. No watch schedules, no carrying a gun every day. That one takes a long time to unlearn. By age eleven she finally manages to get used to not seeing every other adult with a gun on their belt, but it isn't until she's fifteen, and hasn't seen a walker for ten years, that she stops carrying her knife everywhere. It isn't until she's fourteen that she stops waking up in the middle of most nights, sweating and crying about The Baby. The seasons are backwards in this place, but she learns them. She learns to revel in summer instead of dreading it, lying in green, growing things under the sunshine without fear. She gets a job when she's old enough, and her adoptive family praises her, loves on her, even as she holds them at a certain distance. Because they aren't her family. For all this place has so many blood families, she remembers her first family, stronger for all the people in it who did not share her blood. She lost that family. She lost The Baby. She doesn't want it to hurt the same way, if she loses this one. Still, she thrives. Yes, there are a lot of rules in this place, rules to keep out the infected, the dying, but she'd grown up with rules. Rules kept you alive. Rules kept the people you loved alive...until the people who had no rules came along, anyway. And that's the real reason it takes so long for Judith Grimes to stop carrying her knife, to stop thrashing in the night and reaching out for The Baby. She trusts that she'll never see another Walker again. It is people, who must earn her trust. It was people, who raided their camp and killed everyone. Her strong Papa, even Daryl, Daryl, whom nobody could kill, who told her to run and run and run until she found the cave by the stream, to hide, to not come back to the camp no matter what she heard. They'd killed her brother, her Beth-mama, everyone, everyone. And when the screaming had stopped, when the sounds of PEOPLE taking their things stopped, Judith broke her promise and came back. They'd killed everyone. Except the baby. The baby was missing. At four-almost-five, Judith could not fully comprehend the carnage, the gore, only that they were dead. But the baby was missing. She curled up next to Beth's still body, her pale arms frozen, reaching toward her and Daryl's tent, where the baby would be, little Georgia Dixon in her clothes-hamper-crib. Judith was still next to Beth some days later, when the people in white suits plucked her up, catatonic and freezing, chattering over and over that they had to find Georgia. They guessed that was where the little girl was from. Accurate, but not what she'd meant. By the time she gathered her wits, however, she was in a plane flying through the air on her way to a place where there were no Walkers, and the seasons were backwards. She doesn't much remember being that wild, feral, mourning child, even as hints of her hide in her dark eyes, her wild, long dark hair. She's grown up, but the faces don't leave her. And some nights she still wonders what happened to The Baby. It's the first day home from University her third year, and as she passes through the various checkpoints between Sydney and her family's farm, Judith feels a bit of excitement. More refugees, they'd said in their last letter, the next farm over being the rehabilitation point she herself had gone through as a child. Judith loved spending her breaks with new survivors, no matter where in the world they'd come from. Hearing of how they'd survived, as well as what the epidemic had looked like for them, was as humbling as it was galvanizing. They gave her purpose. This time, though, her heart stops at the sight of the very first face out on the veranda of the ranch-style house, blinking into the sun like a scared, long-abused, yet hopeful creature. Judith knows the feeling, almost as well as she knows the face, though she's not seen her since she was barely an infant. The wide blue eyes that easily fall into a squint, the blonde hair, the twitching fingers, the bowed mouth. Judith freezes, her breath stopping in her lungs. The baby, she found her, they took her but Judith found her. She calls her name and stops short, knowing for all that she knew her, Georgia Dixon couldn't possibly remember her...but then again, Beth had kept all those photos from Glenn's camera wrapped up in her blankets. The safest place, she'd said...sure enough the willowy, jittery colt of a girl stills, staring back at Judith, mapping her features and finding them in her memories. Georgia bolts for her, and Judith clutches her close, crying, saying her name over and over into her long blonde hair. The place they'd come from, the place they'd lost, the family she'd found again. Georgia, Georgia, Georgia......... |
1111774 | The Newcomer | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Grantaire, Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Jean Maximilien Lamarque",
"Fandom": "Les Misérables - All Media Types",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by kiyala",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2013-12-31T00:00:00",
"words": "1,315",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Temeraire Fusion",
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} | Grantaire arrives on the back of a supply cart one afternoon, all of thirteen years old, carrying nothing more than a small bag of his belongings. His face and clothes are streaked with mud and walks straight through the courtyard, and to the first captain he sees."Are you in charge here?"Enjolras, aged eleven and a half, doesn't even pause as he clambers all over Liberté with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, undoing his harness. He does glance at the boy, however, frowning as Lamarque kneels down to look him in the eye. It's a kindness he doesn't deserve for addressing the captain so directly, but Lamarque has always been more patient and more forgiving than the others."I am not. Where are your parents? Are you lost?"Enjolras catches the look that the boy gives Lamarque then, unimpressed and scornful. It makes Enjolras' blood boil. He may not be twelve yet, but he has been here for more than three years already and in that time, he has come to respect and admire Lamarque like the father that he never knew."I am here to enlist." The boy drops his bag at his feet and folds his arms across his chest. "I have no home."Enjolras has seen orphans from the street before, and they are all far skinnier than this boy, wasting away from hunger, a hollow look to their eyes. The boy standing before Lamarque may be lanky, but there is a certain quality to his hair, to his skin, that speaks of a life beneath the roof of a house. Enjolras does, however, spot the bruises on the boy's skin, hidden beneath the mud, peeking out from beneath his sleeves, under his wild, curling hair.Lamarque must notice them too, because he doesn't push any further. "What is your name?""Grantaire.""Well, Grantaire, I will speak to the Admiral at once and see what he has to say. Until then, you can stay here. Enjolras! Combeferre! Courfeyrac! Please come here at once, I have a favour to ask."The three boys, already listening in on the conversation, exchange looks and descend as one. They stand in a line, giving Lamarque brief salutes."This is Grantaire. He will be helping you while I speak to the Admiral. Please find him a harness belt, and show him what to do. Treat him kindly, boys.""Yes, sir," Courfeyrac is the first to speak. He takes Grantaire's arm, leading him towards where Liberté is patiently lying down and waiting for them to be done. "Hello, I am Courfeyrac, and this is Combeferre and Enjolras. Have you ever seen a dragon before?"Grantaire shakes his head mutely, taking in the sheer size of Liberté as he lies across the paved stones. He looks more fascinated than terrified, which Enjolras supposes is a good thing. Combeferre goes to find the spare harness belt, and Courfeyrac leads the way around to Liberté's head, Grantaire only a step behind you."Liberté, we have a new cadet!" Courfeyrac announces, gesturing to Grantaire.Blinking his eyes open, Liberté turns them to Grantaire, and then lifts his head. Grantaire instinctively takes two steps backwards."Oh, you need not be afraid of me, I am quite friendly if I may say so myself," Liberté says kindly. "What is your name?""G-Grantaire, sir.""How polite! Though that is not necessary at all, it is a pleasure to have you in my crew, Grantaire, welcome.""But he's not." Enjolras blinks, as surprised as the others at his sudden need to interject. "He is not a cadet, and he is not part of the crew. Not yet. Perhaps not at all, it is the Admiral's decision to make and for now, we do not even know if Grantaire will be staying, let alone joining the crew."Grantaire looks hurt, and Enjolras immediately feels guilty. He turns away, refusing to apologise, and shrinks back at the disappointed look he is given by Combeferre, who is carrying a harness belt in his hands."This way, Grantaire. I'll show you how to put your belt on, and then we'll show you how to remove Liberté's harness," Combeferre says. "Luckily for you, it is only his training harness. The one he wears on missions is much heavier, and there's his belly-rigging as well. It takes forever to remove.""You clip your carabiners like this," Courfeyrac tells Grantaire, demonstrating for him. "There are rings as you go. To make sure that you don't fall off. Best to get used to doing it while you're on ground, so you can do it while you're in the sky.""If I make it into the sky," Grantaire mutters. He quickly picks up the technique, and climbs after Courfeyrac and Combeferre, catching up to them. "If the Admiral decides I'm worth keeping.""Oh, don't worry about that, he will," Combeferre reassures Grantaire with a smile. "Don't you worry about Enjolras, okay? It just takes him a while to warm up to new people.""Or people in general," Courfeyrac adds quietly, smirking.Enjolras frowns, but continues to work on undoing the harness where he is. It's inefficient for all three of them to be working in the same place, especially when Liberté is such a large dragon. They're only going to be here for longer, but he knows that the words would be unwelcome right now. Combeferre and Courfeyrac would not want to leave Grantaire on his own, nor would they want to stress him out by hurrying him along. Enjolras privately thinks that if Grantaire cannot match the pace of the others, then he doesn't belong on the back of a dragon. Enjolras keeps that to himself as well, and simply picks up his own pace, hoping that he can make up for it on his own.They haven't made very much progress by the time Lamarque returns, but he doesn't seem particularly bothered by that. He calls all four of them down, and judging by his smile, Enjolras can already tell that he has good news for Grantaire."The Admiral has decided that you can stay," Lamarque tells Grantaire, clapping him on the shoulder. "We will organise your uniforms shortly, and you will be staying with the other cadets, doing your lessons with them when you are not with Liberté, and soon enough, we will have you in the air with the rest of the crew."Courfeyrac cheers, throwing an arm around Grantaire's shoulder. "See? What did I tell you? Welcome to the crew!""Welcome to the crew," Combeferre says with a warm smile, patting Grantaire on the back.Combeferre and Courfeyrac both turn expectantly to Enjolras, and Grantaire turns with them. There's a hesitant look in Grantaire's eyes and even though Enjolras has only known him for fifteen minutes at most, he can already tell that it's a look he is accustomed to wearing. The hunched shoulders, the wary eyes, the sense of expectation that something will go badly. It's there in Grantaire's posture, just as it is written onto his skin in marks and bruises. Enjolras forces himself to look at them, to feel something for Grantaire that is not quite pity, but to try and understand what he has been through, and how that has shaped him."I am glad that you are not being sent home," he finally says, and holds a hand out for Grantaire to shake. "Welcome to the crew."Grantaire's face splits into a smile, and his hand is warm when he takes Enjolras' into his own. It's soft and without callouses, but that will change soon enough. His hands will harden, along with the rest of him, and he will find his place in the crew, in the covert, or he will leave. Enjolras has watched it happen before, and only time will tell if it happens again.Until then, Enjolras decides, he can be pleasant enough. |
1170982 | A Dogs Life | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": null,
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"Fandom": "NCIS",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by RebaK1tten",
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} | “Scram, go home,” Jethro says to the stray dog, who’s sniffing at him as he walks back to his car, parked behind the hardware store.
He puts the garden hose in the trunk and watches the dog slink off towards the garbage bins, tail between its legs. The dog looks over its shoulder as though fearing Jethro will follow.
Jethro sits in his car, sipping his coffee watching the dog. He’s got chores at home, but he’s taking a few minutes out to get supplies, including a plain donut. Somehow, over the last couple of years, it’s become harder and harder to find a plain donut.
The dog isn’t a dog, he notes, she’s just a pup. And a she, smallish bitch, dark red, probably some Irish setter in there. Jethro doesn’t know a lot about dog breeds, he grew up with mutts and when he’s had dogs, they’ve always come from the shelter. The dog has medium big feet and her ribs are showing through, hip bones starting to show. She’d probably do better sniffing through the coffee shop’s garbage, he thinks, watching as she noses out a wilted plant from the hardware store trash.
The dog is aware he’s still there, occasionally glancing at him, ears keeping track of him. He doesn’t need a dog; it’s ridiculous to think he does. Right now he’s got that foolish, stupid (and pretty damn good) thing with Tony taking his time. And he’s invited his dad out to visit and to re-meet Tony in his new role. He needs to do this because although it’s foolish and stupid (and pretty damn good) it seems like it’s going to be permanent. And he’s gone most of the day, he’d be leaving the dog alone.
Of course, his neighbor, Anne, just lost her ten year old Dalmatian and she takes care of his house if he’s gone for a couple of days. During the winter, the dog would stay in the house where it’s warm. For summer, he can build a dog house for the back yard and a dog run that’s partly in the sun and the shade, that wouldn’t be hard. Tony can help, for all his whining, he’s good with projects.
And his dad would love the company of a dog when Jethro’s at work. They always had dogs growing up.
Tony would love the pup - it would grow up with the two of them. They both like long hikes and the dog can be in the back seat when they take a weekend trip.
He looks up and the dog is sitting a few yards away, staring at him. Jethro reaches over for the bag with the donut, watching the dog’s ears perk up. He takes a small bite, breaks off a bit of the rest and tosses it in between them. The dog catches it before it hits the ground, watching Jethro cautiously.
“Smart girl, being careful, that’s a good girl,” he tells her. He leans over and opens the passenger door, putting the rest of the donut on the seat. He pats the seat, whistles and calls out gently, “Come on, girl, time to go.”
She hesitates for a minute and then ignores the passenger door and jumps in through the open driver’s door. She scarfs the rest of the donut, sits down and looks at him appraisingly.
Jethro reaches over slowly to shut the passenger door, letting her sniff his hand. She watches him carefully and gives him a small lick as he shuts the door.
He pulls out of the parking lot as she settles in the seat, resting her chin by his leg. “Okay, Samantha, we’ll get you home and find something for lunch and then you get a bath. While you take a nap, I’ll run out and get you some supplies.”
The dog sighs and closes her eyes as Jethro rests his hand on the back of her neck, scratching behind her ears. “We’ve got some rules we’ll need to discuss, but we can do that tonight when you meet Tony. And don’t let him give you any grief about being a red-head.” |
1126948 | Round and Round Again | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Ori (Tolkien), Dwalin, Thorin Oakenshield, Thorin's Company, Gandalf, Nori (Tolkien), Dori, Beorn, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo Baggins, Glóin, Balin, Bombur, Bifur, Óin, Bard of Laketown, Tauriel, Legolas",
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"author": "by Antarctica_or_bust",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2014-01-09T00:00:00",
"words": "3,662",
"Additional Tags": "Time Travel, Time Loop, Crack, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon - Book, Canon - Movie, Character Death, Temporary Character Death, POV First Person, POV Minor Character, Poignant, Non-Linear Narrative, Mirkwood, Seriously this is pretty much just a crack time-travel deathfic, Thorin Is an Idiot, Ori is sick of this shit, Thorin Has No Sense Of Direction, Mother Hen Dori, Dwalin Is A Softie, Fíli and Kíli fall in love with everyone, Fix-It, Fic Spans Years, Podfic Available",
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} | Life #132:
We almost make it this time but I should have known better than to get my hopes up before our quest was through. Because of course our fearless leader decides that he should be the one to face the dragon and that never could end well.
Indeed, all I hear is a string of furious cursing before a wave of fire sweeps down the mountain and my life resets again.
Life #2:
I had the strangest dream last night. I dreamed that our company was on its way to Erebor already and everything kept going wrong. For while we found allies in the elves of Rivendell, there were also trolls and goblins and stone giants and I had never before realized just how dangerous Arda was. Truly it seemed as though something wished to kill us around every corner and eventually our luck ran out.
It was the goblins who struck the final blow deep in the Misty Mountains, capturing our company whilst we were hiding from the storm. A cowardly way to strike but I must admit it was effective in its straightforward cravenness. The foul creatures took us before their king and although I tried to be brave, I cannot deny that my heart was pounding. How could it not when faced with such a monster? How could it not when faced with my demise?
Though the helpless expressions on my brothers' faces were somehow worse than the sight of the sword swinging towards me and I cried out their names as the weapon fell.
And then I woke up, my chest aching with a phantom echo of impalement and a scream on my lips. But I am safe in bed, here in a tavern on the edge of the Shire, Nori and Dori snoring across the way. I am safe and that dream was little more than a nightmare created by my nervousness. After all, I've never been on such an important journey and helping Thorin reclaim Erebor would go a long way toward restoring our family name. Not that Nori or Dori really seem to care that we're considered the Petty-dwarves of Durin's Folk but no one wants to hire a scholar with a legacy like that.
So this journey is my best chance for glory and I'm not going to let one silly nightmare threaten my resolve, even if I can't forget the taste of blood upon my lips. Even if I feel a strange sense of familiarity as we ride into Hobbiton, every flower and cobblestone pathway looking just as I expect.
Which is ridiculous because we haven't even met our burglar yet.
Life #3:
It wasn't a dream.
Life #13:
I think I'm starting to get the hang of this. After a few bad runs in the beginning - how was I supposed to know that hobbits couldn't swim - the dangers have become predictable and our company makes it to the Misty Mountains almost every time. Admittedly, it took me five tries to figure out how not to die at the hands of the Goblin King, but if promising the wizard a sweater makes him come back to rescue us, then I'll knit until my fingers bleed and like it.
Only now it seems that this optimism may have been misplaced. Because we defeat the goblins, the tunnels, and the mountains only to be attacked by warg-riders on the eastern slope. They trap us in the treetops like prey to be taken and when we will not rise to their taunting, they light the ground aflame.
I can see my death mirrored in the fire's scarlet glow but just when I think that all is lost again, Gandalf finds a miracle. He summons the Lord of the Eagles and his brethren, the great raptors snatching us from the jaws of danger like avenging Ainur and I could have stayed forever on their backs. Because the land spreads out below us in a tapestry of mountains and while dwarves were made for earthen glory, this one could love the sky. Just think how quickly our journey would be completed if we had such wings as these or if the eagles would consent to fly us home.
But these birds are proud folk and they cannot be used as beasts of burden, no more than Thorin would agree to drag a human's cart. So they circle down to land in the first light of dawn, leaving us on a rock spire near the Mirkwood's western edge while my friends clutch each other tight in relief.
And then, after we survive all that, well that's when Bofur gets eaten by a bear.
Life #148:
Some days you just want to drink yourself into a stupor and refuse to go outside. However, borrowing some ale off Dwalin probably would have been safer than trying to steal the elf lord's wine.
Life #6
This is not fun at all. I don't know whether it's a curse or blessing but this strange magic refuses to wear off and I am getting very tired of watching my companions die. For that matter, getting killed myself isn't very pleasant and even if I always wake up afterward, the pain takes time to fade.
The weirdest part is that it doesn't matter which of us returns to Mahal, only that someone does, and yet I am the only one to remember that we've done all this before.
I am the only one who remembers anything and while this should give me an advantage, that doesn't seem to be the case. Because for every danger I manage to successfully avoid, another deadly obstacle springs up in its place. Orcs and trolls and wargs and giants and as I've just discovered: old men in white robes who go on violent rampages when you spill soup across their feet.
Life #62:
The Mirkwood fucking sucks.
Life #63:
Seriously, we've died more in this forest than in the first parts of our journey combined and there's no end in sight. If it isn't spiders, enormous terrifying spiders, it's cursed rivers and evil trees.
So in truth, I'm almost relieved to turn the corner and see elves standing with bows before me, because no matter how unpleasant I find Thranduil's dungeons, at least there's nothing deadly here. This is actually one of the few places on our journey where no one manages to die, though Thorin certainly makes a fine attempt.
Our leader has never been good at hiding his emotions, particularly not his hatreds, and the Mirkwood elves are some of his least favorite people in the world. So he goes out of his way to antagonize our captors, growling curses at every guard who walks by, and I can only imagine how his meeting with Thranduil might go. Indeed, it does not end with our freedom and I resign myself to discovering how it feels to starve to death.
But to my surprise, Bilbo appears only a few hours later, a grin on his face and keys in his hands. He leads us deep into the elf king's cellars, slipping us out beneath the guards' very noses and I have never been so happy to see the sky again.
Though when that sky is suddenly filled with arrows, I start to think we should have stayed to rot instead.
Life #14:
That almost I mentioned in my last life, that's for times like these. Times when Thorin manages to piss Bilbo off so much that the hobbit doesn't join us and the lot of us get swallowed whole. It takes a long time to die inside a troll, something which I would have been perfectly happy never to find out.
Life #97:
Although it is worn and wet and dirt, Laketown may be the most beautiful city that I have ever seen. Because the sight means that our company has finally survived the Mirkwood and at least now I know it's possible. Even if our entrance to the town is hardly auspicious, covered in fish and skulking about like thieves in the shadows, this is farther than we've ever traveled before.
This is progress and I didn't even have to get shot by orcs again. Indeed, for the first time in almost twenty lives, none of us are full of arrows – as long as you don't count that pesky shaft in Kíli's leg.
But hey, compared to some of the deaths that we've encountered, that little stick is nothing and I am definitely looking forward to sleeping in a bed. Or a cot or a floor or whatever this smuggler has to offer us. Although a bed would truly be preferable and Bard owes us that for what we've paid.
Even if Fíli could probably share his bed for free.
Of course, my hopes are sorely dashed when the company decides that burglary is much preferable to sleeping and I don't know why they couldn't just accept the boat-hooks that Bard tried to offer us. It's not as though the strongest swords would truly help against the dragon and at least that way we'd have a sharp stick or two in hand.
But no, Thorin just can't bear to wait another minute and I mean, sure, no one else knows that our chances are endless, but I wanted to enjoy my freedom while I could. I wanted to relax for at least one evening and my eyes grow teary when we are captured once more.
Damn Kíli and his accursed stumbling. Though in his defense that arrow may have been poisoned because after the Master of Laketown throws our company in prison, my young friend doesn't last through the night.
Life #133:
While burning to death is messy and painful and the smell lingers in my nose, somehow it is still far less annoying than watching Thorin stride off a cliff again.
Life #72:
I've become quite fond of my own particular cell in Thranduil's dungeons and this time when Bilbo comes to rescue us, I refuse to leave. Let the company go die again without me, I'm going to stay here for a few lives and enjoy the quiet while it lasts.
But of course, my brothers will not accept this decision without an argument and soon the entire company is trying to drag me from my cell. However, while I feel slightly guilty about the desperation on their faces, the memory of arrows piercing me is a far stronger weight right now. So I dig in my heels, refusing to budge with every fiber of my being and eventually the whole tangle collapses in a heap.
No, sorry. That was the floor. Curse these elves and their shoddy architecture.
Life #165:
I give up. Nothing I do seems to make any difference so I'm just going to enjoy myself instead. I'm going to drink and laugh and seduce half the company because at least this way I'll have a little fun before I die. Though in truth, I'll settle for just one.
Because knowing that no one will remember any of this on the next trip round somehow gives me the courage that I have always lacked and Dwalin tastes just as amazing as I thought he would.
Honestly, seducing the warrior turns out to be surprisingly easy so perhaps I'm not the only one who has been pining through the years. We manage to thoroughly scandalize my eldest brother when he stumbles upon us kissing in Rivendell and his sputtering is an interesting counterpoint to the soft touch of Dwalin's beard.
While the warrior would have stopped out of politeness, or maybe just embarrassment, I refuse to let him back away. Let Dori freak out as he will, this is the most fun I've had in ages and I'm not going to allow his fussiness to ruin anything.
Though I discover later that my brother walked back into camp, marched up to Bifur and declared, “I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming so you better kiss me now.”
After that this life becomes a bit ridiculous as every member of our company decides to throw caution to the wind. Suddenly everyone is following my example, declarations of their intentions occurring left and right, and the quest for Erebor quickly becomes a forgotten memory. Because Kíli won't leave his pretty elf and Bombur somehow wooed himself a hobbit and no matter how much Thorin threatens, our entire company is deadweight on the ground.
Actually, I've often wondered what would happen if we strode off the beaten path and now that the promise of sex has succeeded where all my best plans failed, I will finally have my chance. Even if I am far too busy enjoying the feel of Dwalin's muscles to give it the study it deserves.
Though if I had, all I would have discovered is that the Valar will not allow us to escape our fate this way. For I have only three glorious weeks with my fine warrior before the first wargs track us down.
Life #151:
VALAR DAMN IT, THORIN. STOP CHARGING THE GIANT ORC WHO WANTS TO CLAIM YOUR HEAD!!
Life #100:
It's fascinating how some things never change. Because for all the differences contained within each loop, I can track our journey by the hearts of my companions and I have grown to know them far better than I ever did before.
Our leader always starts off angry, seeming to hate the fact that we even need a burglar and cursing the hobbit's very name. But if we survive long enough for Bilbo to prove his courage, Thorin changes his tune gladly and the rest of the company is rarely far behind. Though Fíli and Kíli are usually the first to befriend him, often even before their uncle sees the light, and it no longer surprises me when they become inseparable.
Honestly, the princes fall in love and friendship far too fast and while the archer is more obvious about his crushes, Fíli's heart is lost just as easily. Some lives Kíli falls for Bilbo, some lives the elder falls for Bard and sometimes both of them are smitten by a random elf who just happens to walk by.
Yet even though their beloveds vary with each reset and the princes have a weird fondness for members of other races, I've never been able to doubt that their hearts are true. Because Fíli and Kíli are more alike than I used to believe and they love with the same burning selflessness. It makes them stupidly reckless and possessive and I swear that half our failures are entirely their fault.
Though to be fair, Nori is the only member of the company who has never perished, something which makes me strangely proud. My older brother has always been accomplished at survival and I find it comforting to know that he'll always be around.
Unlike Dwalin, who always charges forward with abandon and while I admire the warrior's courage, I sometimes wish he'd put more thought into the safety of his skin. He and all of our company's skilled fighters, those who are the first to enter every battle no matter which life I'm on. But at least I've finally had the time to know them in their softer moments, to discover all the things they used to hide.
So far I've learned that Bifur writes poems in Iglishmêk, Bombur likes to watch for rare birds out on the trail and Óin's level of deafness changes depending on whom he's talking to. So too I've found that Balin has a knack for juggling and Glóin is extremely ticklish upon his ankles, while Dwalin watches over Thorin like a father for his son. Every small tidbit of information is a jewel to my starved mind and I would have given up hope long ago if not for the anticipation of something new each time that I awake.
Because it soothes my pain to watch Nori pamper our ponies, my tough as nails brother turning into a softhearted fuss pot when one of them has a tangle in her tail. He reminds me much of Dori in these moments and even our eldest brother has secrets left to share.
Thus I watch and I learn and I know that no matter how often his stubbornness gets us killed, Thorin truly does care about every member of this company.
Life #42:
Trees should not have teeth.
Life #180:
Our leader's madness never becomes less creepy, no matter how often I am there to see its birth. It's almost painful to chart the shift in his expression, the slow fall from honor into a gold-tinged fury and the first time I saw him threaten Bilbo, all I could do was gape.
That was some lives ago and Fíli and Kíli were there with us to defuse their uncle's fury so we made it to the battle before any of our number died. However, this time the princes have been left behind in Laketown, the archer's injury seeping filth once more. They are meant to join us in Erebor once Kíli's wound has healed and while past experience has taught me that his survival is unlikely, my doubts do not matter anymore.
They do not matter because without his nephews here to help hold back the madness, Thorin throws their lover into the mines of Erebor.
Life #27:
Beorn may be my favorite person in the world. Except for that whole eating Bofur thing awhile back.
However, anyone who pours milk by the gallon is a friend in my eyes, particularly when he has the cutest ponies that I've ever seen. Besides, Gandalf swears Beorn is more or less an ally and I believe our wizard, despite the slightly disturbing contrast between our host's quiet voice and his huge skull-cracking hands. The skin-changer also doesn't seem to like Thorin very much, his glare enough to silence even our leader's stern pomposity.
Still, I am sure that Beorn hides a gentle heart beneath his gruff facade because no one who does not enjoy caring for others could have created such as feast as that I see. The selection is truly incredible, fruits and vegetables long past their season and I dig into the turnip bowl with glee.
It's amazing how food makes the world seem better, particularly such good food as this. Indeed everyone seems far more cheerful when we have finished and when Dwalin starts humming a tune under his breath, all I can think is that the warrior should really smile more. It makes him appear decades younger, hardly more than Nori's age, and a blush crawls up my face as he turns that grin my way.
I've always had a fondness for the other dwarf, a crush of sorts if you prefer, and all this time together has only made my admiration grow. But I am still too much of a coward to do anything about it because unlike our two wild princes, I've never been very good at saying what I feel.
Though perhaps when our journey has finally succeeded and this strange magic lets me be, perhaps then I will have the chance of which I've always dreamed. The chance for respect, for honor and maybe even love once Thorin Oakenshield is finally crowned King.
Life #83:
Only Kíli could manage to flirt with the one lady elf who has Thranduil's son on hand to stab her suitors in the back. Though at least this time I didn't have to watch Fíli make out with his guards.
Life #200:
Success!
Life #201:
Okay, that was a little premature. But I'm pretty sure we've got it this time as long as I can keep our dear leader from tripping on his way to the throne.
Though that shouldn't be too difficult now that he has Bilbo to watch his back, for the hobbit is much better at protecting Thorin than I've ever been. It's somewhat strange to see the two of them together after so many lives where they were hardly even friends, but they're so in love this time that it almost hurts to watch. Indeed, our burglar seems to be a good influence on the King Under the Mountain and perhaps that's why this company has finally survived.
Or perhaps it's due to Fíli and Kíli stealing themselves an elf prince who fights like a demon and somehow talked his father out of murdering us all.
Whatever the reason, I'm just glad we made it and I finally have a future to be looking forward to. Because surely now this curse must be lifted; surely now my friends and family will be safe until we return to Mahal's hall for good. So the next time that any of us die, I better be old and grey and famous, with a gaggle of dwarrowlings to tell our story to.
And it will be a fantastic story: the tale of Thorin's Company and how we made our dreams come true. How Nori, Dori and Ori rescued our family name from the scorn heaped upon it and earned the love of fine dwarves along the way.
I must admit that Dwalin is a far better prize than I dared to hope for when this journey first began so many lives ago, far better than glory and respect from Durin's Folk. Because he is brave and kind and honorable and somehow still loves me, so I know we will build ourselves a fine life in Erebor.
Though in the future, once Thorin passes his throne on to his nephews and no longer requires my lover at his side, I think that I would like to travel once again.
I would like to travel without the fear of dying every mile and Dwalin said he's always wanted to see the halls of Khazad-dûm.
Life #54:
You know, I think it is a blessing after all.
End |
1152021 | The World Spins Madly On | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen, John Diggle, Tommy Merlyn, Thea Queen",
"Fandom": "Arrow (TV 2012)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Abbie",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2014-01-25T00:00:00",
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} | Everything moved very quickly.Felicity, Tommy, and Diggle were herded back to the waiting room when the doctors were alerted that Oliver was awake—and that something seemed very, very wrong.Tommy had called Thea, and she and Moira had returned to the hospital, post haste.It was some hours before the three in the waiting room learned more. Felicity took that time to contact QC’s press and public relations department, ordering them to release a very careful and vague statement that Oliver had been involved in a minor traffic accident and was being treated for non-threatening injuries sustained in the crash at an unnamed medical facility. From there, she set to the Herculean task of rearranging Oliver’s schedule for the rest of the week, cancelling, rescheduling, and delegating as needed.She suspected it would be more than a few days before Oliver could step back into the role of CEO.Some time later, it was Thea who remembered them and brought them the news.“Amnesia?” Tommy stared at her, uncomprehending, his voice ripped through with skepticism. “Like, soap opera plot device amnesia.”Thea gave him a droll look, still looking a little shocky—and very tired—around the eyes. “Yes, like soap opera amnesia.” She turned away, hands going into her hair. “God, this is like some nutzoid practical joke. Stranded on an island, returned from the dead—amnesia? Oh my god.” Her hands slid down her neck, taking fistfuls of the collar of her designer tee shirt. “Our lives really are a soap opera.”"So he doesn’t remember, what… anything?" Diggle prompted, tentative but firm.Thea locked onto his face like he was an anchor. “He thinks it’s March 2007.”Tommy barked a strange noise that had no business calling itself a laugh. “So roughly six months before he even got on the Gambit? He remembers… nothing. Holy. Shit.”Felicity suddenly sank down into one of the plush armchairs, her knees just calling quits on her. Tommy turned and stared at her, but didn’t seem to really be seeing her. Slowly, Felicity lifted her gaze to meet John’s with a heavy look. He swallowed and nodded imperceptibly.Her worries acknowledged, Felicity blinked rapidly and dropped her eyes to her hands. They lay in her lap, palm up, empty. “He has no idea who we are, then. Me and Diggle.”Her quiet voice drew everyone’s attention in the momentarily hushed room. Tommy’s glance sharpened, and then he paled. Diggle stared grimly at the floor. Thea, blinking, drew her brows together and then winced sympathetically."No. God, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that. I mean, um, I’m sure he’ll… he’ll want to know who you are. Definitely. You guys can still see him.”"Is that a good idea?" Digg asked solemnly. Thea turned to raise a brow at him, and he held steady, continuing, "About how well is he handling things right now?"Thea jerked slightly like she’d been smacked. Eyelids fluttering, she looked away, fingers twisting together at her waist. “Uh.” She chuckled, brittle. “Not so great. He—he thought it was a joke. And then he just—he just got so scared, and pissed.” Her chin dropped, and she stared wide-eyed at the floor, a sheen of tears filming over the blue. “He didn’t recognize me. He was expecting twelve-year-old me, not… not me, me. And—and then he did, sort of. And it clicked and he started freaking out and we had to leave.” She swallowed. “I think they sedated him. Mom’s talking with the nurse.”Digg touched her arm gently, drawing a brave, if weak, smile from her. “Then probably Felicity and I should hold off for a while. We don’t want to overwhelm him any more than will already be necessary.”"Right, thanks," Thea nodded, swiping a finger under her eye—and then she froze. "Than necessary… Oh, god, we have to tell him about—about Dad, I have to tell him about Dad.” She whirled, eyes large and expression that of a lost little girl as she looked to Tommy. “How am I gonna tell him about Dad?”Thea’s voice broke on the last word and Tommy swooped forward, gathering her to him and setting his chin on top of her head. Swallowing, he kissed her hair and rocked from foot to foot, holding her as she clung to his shoulders. “Hey. We’re gonna get through this, alright? You’re not doing this alone. He still remembers me, maybe me being there can—can soften the blow.” Thea’s arms squeezed tighter around his torso, and he squeezed back just as fiercely. Finally, he pulled back a little from her, just enough to look seriously into her face, thumbs bracketing her temples, stroking back her hair. “Thea, I swear to you, this is not six years ago. You are not doing this alone.”Wetting her lips nervously and feeling a little like she was intruding on a private moment, Felicity stood up again and stepped towards Tommy and Thea. “I—I don’t mean to butt in, but… for what it’s worth, I’m around if, if you need me. I mean, not that you’d need me, you barely know me, but… if there’s anything I can do, anything at all, or—or anything, just…” She sucked in a deep breath, counted back silently from three. “Tommy has my number. You can get it from him if you ever need it, or want it, or whatever.”Thea blinked at her, then gently extricated herself from Tommy’s embrace. Smiling bemusedly at Felicity, she wiped the damp tracks from her cheeks. “Thanks. That’s really sweet. I will… definitely keep you in mind.”Felicity smiled back at her, both of them wavering and unmoored.Diggle cleared his throat softly behind Thea, who turned to him. “You should get back to your family. Felicity and I will take care of things at Queen Consolidated.” His chin lowered a fraction more and his eyebrows went stern. “I know you have my number, so don’t hesitate if you need a ride or an escort or anything. I’ll be posting a couple of men on Oliver’s door.” Thea looked at him dubiously, and he smiled, tired. “Last thing you all need right now is a press break-in to Oliver’s room.” He canted his head in Felicity’s direction. “We’ll do what we can for now, but this story won’t sleep for long.”Thea swallowed, paling even further, if it was possible. “Right. Thank you, I hadn’t even thought of that yet.” She pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh, shoulders slumping. “I’ll have to remind Mom to contact our PR people.”Felicity falteringly raised her hand. “I’ve already got the department at QC on some mild damage control, so when you guys have connected with your, uh, people, just have them get in touch with the company side of things. I’ll make sure they’re prepared and will cooperate completely.”Thea nodded sharply. “Thank you. I better go catch up with Mom.”And then she turned and left, her black ballet flats quiet on the carpet.—When Thea was gone, the remaining three looked at each other, questioning and a bit lost, with a tightly controlled edge of panic.Almost as one, they stepped closer together, forming up a closed circle of hushed voices and darting, watchful eyes."So, this is bad news," Tommy stated grimly, hands in his pockets. Felicity shot him a look for stating the obvious, and he merely grimaced. "Well, it is.""Hell yeah it is," Diggle agreed, shaking his head. "He remembers… nothing from his time on the island. Or after.”"He doesn’t even remember getting on the damn boat,” Tommy ran a hand over his hair, staring towards the floor as he did some mental calculations. “March, 2007 is about six months before the gambit, actually. He and Laurel were dating, getting serious.” His eyes slowly screwed shut and his mouth opened in dismay. “Oh my god, Laurel. Shit. At some point he’s going to ask about her, maybe try to talk to her. I need to tell her about this.”Felicity swallowed and drew in a deep breath, trying to master her ping-ponging thoughts and emotions. “Yeah, you should probably give her some advance warning.” Tommy looked at her, and she drew her shoulders in. “What, if I had an ex-boyfriend with that kind of history who suddenly thought we were back in the days of sex and romance, I’d want a heads up. To avoid him. Wasn’t she really not happy to see Oliver when he first came back? Imagine how much happier she’ll be to have the Oliver who was a few months away from setting the whole disaster in motion back.”Tommy winced, but nodded. “Fair point. So, I guess that’ll be my job. And hanging around here, in case they need me.”Digg nodded sharply. “Good, you can be our point of contact. Keep us in the loop.” Tommy looked at him questioningly, and John held his gaze, voice lowering further. “Felicity and I will need to get started on scrubbing all signs of Oliver’s double life from any place this… previous version of him might wander into.” He switched his attention to Felicity, whose expression settled to serious determination. “I’ll take the manor. I know for a fact Oliver’s got all sorts of shit squirreled away around the house, especially his bedroom. Arrows, knives, I think maybe a stash of those weird herbs.”Felicity nodded. “I’ll take the office. He’s got a few things there, and I’ll need to go through his computer—and his phone, actually. That’s probably here somewhere, but I can hack it.” John squinted at her a little, and she rolled her eyes. “Please, I’ve had remote access to both of your phones pretty much since Mrs. Queen shot him.”Tommy snickered, shaking his head. “Every now and then, it’s really good to be reminded that you are a little bit scary, Felicity.”She smiled slyly at him. “Good. Keeps you on your toes.”Suddenly, he narrowed his eyes at her, clearly wondering if she had remote access to his phone, too.Hoping to avoid that question, Felicity clapped her hands together, spine straightening. “Right, so we all have our assignments. Things are about to get really crazy, so we either meet up or all check in by phone by,” she pulled her cell out of her pocket to see the time—7:30 a.m. “by noon. And then again this evening.”Diggle nodded. “Shit’s about to get a whole different kind of weird than even what we’re used to. It’s gonna be all hands on deck til we know exactly what we’re looking at ahead.”Tommy nodded, feeling strange to be so included in this Team Arrow business. It wasn’t like he’d never helped the little vigilante crew out before, but he did usually try to avoid making a habit of it. This was something else, though. Something stranger and yet more domestic, and much, much bigger.Suddenly, he pursed his lips and looked intently at Digg, then Felicity. “This is gonna sound mushy as all hell, and I apologize for that in advance, but I want you both to know what I said to Thea kind of extends to you two as well. We’ll get through this shit together, whatever the fuck this is.” One corner of his mouth tucked wryly, head canting to one side. “And I do realize that the offer of support for you guys comes with more secretive, possibly less legal strings attached. I still mean it.”Diggle smiled at him, clearly amused, but ducked his head gratefully. “Thanks, man. That was touching.”Tommy rolled his eyes and threw the older man a middle finger. John only chuckled.Beside him, Felicity lightly touched his sleeve, and he found her smiling softly, something shuttered in her eyes. “Thanks, Tommy. Digg’s smartass commentary aside, it means a lot.”Tommy smiled down at her, covering her hand on his arm with his own and squeezing. “You are entirely welcome.”John rolled his eyes. “This is all very sweet, but let’s get out of her and do our jobs before we start group hugging, alright?”Felicity laughed and stepped away from Tommy. “Aw, Digg, I’m hurt you don’t want to hug me.” He just snorted. “Anyways, I’ll catch up with you both later.” Sighing, she plucked at the front of her shirt. “I need to head home and change before I hit the office.”Diggle walked towards the door, beckoning him after her. “You need to pick up your car anyways. Remember, I drove you here; I’ll drive you back. Come on.”Tommy watched them leave, playful banter covering the nervous energy that rode both their shoulders. His smile faded as they turned the corner, and he sighed, trying in vain to hold on to that feeling of calm camaraderie just a little bit longer.He suspected it was going to be a while before any of them felt like they were standing on solid ground again. |
1101553 | Earshot | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Charlie Matheson, Bass Monroe, Miles Matheson",
"Fandom": "Revolution (TV)",
"Language": "English",
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"author": "by SciFiDVM",
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"Additional Tags": "LJ Secrert Santa, Prompt: Charlie beint taught how to do something",
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} | Miles was going to head into town and hit the bar for a drink or two. He figured Bass would be up for joining him, as there wasn’t really anything else for him to do around the farm. Last he’d seen Bass, he’d actually been dragged into helping Charlie practice her knife handling skills out in the barn. He must really have been desperate for something to do.As Miles approached the barn, he could hear banging, clattering, and yelling from inside. When he got closer to the door, the voices started to become discernable words.It was Charlie’s voice. “It’s not my first time. I know what I’m doing.” Then he heard Bass. “You’re timid fumbling around is not exactly effective.” “Then tell me what you want me to do.”“Firm grip, but keep your wrist loose. Good.” He sounded winded.“Harder?”“Not yet. Ease into it.”Charlie groaned.“Work from the base and it will still get a little bit longer.”“Like that?” Charlie asked.“Excellent. Now work the head.”“That feels good in my hand.”“Now you’re getting there.” Bass encouraged.Then Miles could barely make out a thwack, thwack, thwacking noise coming from inside the barn.“Faster!” Bass yelled between thwacks and groaning noises. The tempo of the odd noise increased.Miles had been listening outside the door, sure that he was misinterpreting what he was hearing. There was no way that what he thought was happening was what was really happening. But unfortunately his imagination had gone to only one possible place, and it wasn’t good. He violently pulled open the barn door as he yelled, “Ok. What the…”Miles was greeted by the sight of Charlie using a collapsible police baton on the large punching bag that Bass was stabilizing.“Hey Miles.” They both said in unison.Miles just shook his head, trying to dislodge the mental picture his overactive imagination had produced.“What’s up?” Bass asked.“Nothing… I was just… going to head to the pub. Wanted to see if you wanted to go.”“Thanks man, but I’m currently in no condition to be impressing the ladies.” He pulled at the front of his sweat soaked shirt and then wiped a dirty forearm across his dripping brow.“Next time then.” Miles offered.“Yeah. For sure. Have one for me tonight.”“Will do.” Miles exited the barn, still slightly dazed.Neither of the barn’s remaining occupants moved or spoke until the door had closed behind Miles and another ten seconds had elapsed. Then Charlie flung herself at Bass.“That was close.” She panted before smashing her lips against his.His hands were undoing her belt as he broke the kiss and murmured into her neck, “Not sure how much longer he’ll buy the ‘we’re out here sparring’ excuse. He’ll figure out we’re lying soon enough.”Their lips collided again and their tongues met in the violent dance they’d become accustomed to over the past weeks.Her hand slid into his pants and along the length of his erection straining against the fabric. “It’s not exactly lying. You are teaching me how to use your baton.”He laughed against her lips and began to devour her mouth again as they started to pull each other’s clothes off. |
1183890 | Too Young | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Joe, Thomas Light",
"Fandom": "The Protomen",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by dovingbird",
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} | He's too young.He's too tough and he's too fiery and he's way too young. But that's good. It's a better deterrent than the fact that everything about his heart screams Emily.Different people, the both of them, not a single similarity between them physically. Emily was a porcelain redhead with the most brilliant navy blue eyes, and Joe's a dark-haired-dark-skinned-dark-eyed boy with a slightly teased afro. She wore tank tops and sweats, he wears fitted jeans and a crisp leather jacket.But there's something there. Right in the eyes.It's the exact same gleam of raw, unbridled anger.They're hard at work, and will be for hours yet. If Tom's a genius about robots, then Joe's the god of explosives, and he's leaning over the rickety table in this abandoned garage with his tongue poking out from between his lips. His brow is furrowed, his jacket has been abandoned, and he's moving slowly, so slowly, weighing out proportions without breathing. There's tension in the air. It's burning Tom to the bone.It's been over twenty years since he's been this close to another human being. He'd forgotten what it sounded like to have something breathing nearby. To smell something other than smoke on the air."Hey Doc?"Tom glances up from Joe's hands."Come hold this for me before the roof gets blown sky high, yeah?"He does as he's told, letting Joe show him the exact way to hold the wiring before he gets back to mixing.He'd forgotten what body heat felt like too. He hasn't been this close to another man since working with Wily, since sculpting machines out of nothing, since-He flushes everything from his mind before anxiety can set in.He glances toward Joe, watches a bead of sweat drip down from his temple, and when Joe meets his eyes with a quirked brow he remembers that society doesn't often believe in openly staring at someone you don't know, especially when you're barely a few inches apart from them. He looks away. Studies the bomb they're working on."They say..."Tom makes a soft sound of inquisition."...they say...you killed her."Acid pools in his stomach."That it was your...machine that did it. Light's Monster."His hands start shaking, and when Joe starts to close the roughly hammered-out cover he's more than happy to step away."I, uh...I don't think I ever believed it, though. I really don't think anybody did.""It was a long time ago." Tom snorts. "Probably before you were born.""Yeah, well..." He shrugs and laces his fingers behind his neck. "You can always kinda tell when somebody's bullshitting, y'know? When the whole damn city's bullshitting." And then he wanders over and cocks his head to the side, extending an arm to ever so lightly grab Tom by the back of the neck. "So whaddya say? Wanna go set it right? Give that son of a bitch what he deserves?"He's strong and he's brave and he's too beautiful of a kid to throw his lot in with Tom's, but he won't be convinced otherwise. It's written right there on his face. He may not understand everything, may not know what life used to be like before Albert Wily sank his claws into the earth, may not even fully comprehend what he's fighting for...but he has the most incredible heart.Emily would have loved him.Tom lets his fingers linger on the back of Joe's neck too, holding his eyes, knowing his heart should be pounding right now as they go to certain death, both of them, but also knowing that his emotions gave up so long ago. He's forty-five, but he might as well be ninety. And he's lived long enough. So if he's going to blaze up, go out in flames, it might as well be beside someone with an inferno in his eyes."As long as you remember one thing," Tom murmurs. "Wily's mine."Joe purses his lips in thought before inclining his head. "You get one shot. And then I'm taking him down myself. Deal?""Deal."He grabs Tom's other hand, squeezing it so tightly that all the circulation drains out of it, but there's something in Tom that doesn't want to let go. But they must.They have a job to do. |
1174738 | All Those Shadows Almost | {
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"Characters": "Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Mentions of Mary Winchester",
"Fandom": "Supernatural",
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"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by BabyyCakess",
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} | "Christo," Dean says. John's eyes do not turn black. Sam sobs.Dean pulls the trigger once, twice, then three times.His hands do not shake.John falls, dead before he hits the ground.*Sam has just turned twelve when it happens.He is still small, smaller than Dean and young enough, innocent enough that he still enjoys hugs from his big brother; still gets a goofy grin on his face when Dean ruffles his hair affectionately.It's a Wednesday, and Dean has promised to pick up pizza on his way home.Sam gets out of school an hour earlier than Dean, so he plans to do homework while he waits, but when he walks into the apartment he sees his Dad sprawled out on the couch, bottle of Jack in hand, his shot glass long forgotten. John just brings the bottle to his lips and gulps. It's already half empty.Sam sets his backpack down and takes a few cautious steps toward his father. "Dad..." he says, timid.He is only a few feet away from John, just the coffee table separating them. When John opens his eyes and looks at Sam, he can see the tears swimming in his dad's eyes. "Sammy," John slurs. He has this smile on his face that Sam's never seen before. "Come 'ere, Sammy." He pats the space next to him on the couch. Sam sits down, cautious."Dad, are you okay?" Sam asks."Yeah, I'm fine, sweetheart. Just wanna talk t'ya."Sam raises his eyebrows at the pet name, not used to such affection, especially from his father. Dean was much more likely to be sweet to him. It was more normal, more comforting from Dean. He just nods."Your mom loved you so much, Sammy. So much."Sam stares, shocked. Talking about Mary has always been off-limits. "You remind me of her." He brushes a lock of hair out of Sam's eyes. "Dean's got her looks...but you. You've got her spirit, Sam. You've got her soul."Sam sucks in a breath, has no idea what to make of this situation. He's intrigued, yet uncomfortable beyond belief."You're so innocent, Sam. So beautiful." A pause. "So pure." John moves closer, and Sam wonders if he should back away; he probably should, and when he can smell the whiskey on his Dad's breath, he knows he should, but he can't move a muscle. He feels fear, but his fight or flight response isn't working. He can't move, he just wants Dean."She was perfect, Sammy. And so are you."John's lips are pressed against Sam's before he can blink, or breathe, or bolt.He tries to reassure himself that Dad's had too much to drink, and Dean will be home with pizza soon, and so he needs to fix this situation, get his dad sober, do something. This isn't right, not at all.He tries to move away but then John's huge hands are gripping his delicate wrists, and pressing him into the couch. John uses his weight to trap Sam, and then his Dad is forcing him onto his stomach, pulling his clothes off, and mumbling dirty things that Sam desperately wants to drown out.It all happens so fast, Sam can barely breathe but..."Please, Dad, no," he sobs.He just wants Dean to get home, he just wants Dean.Dean can fix this.*While it happens, Sam thinks of the way Dean sings in the shower, loud and off-key. Always old rock and roll songs, like Led Zeppelin or AC/DC.It always makes Sam smile.Sam thinks of the way Dean hugs him, how it always makes him feel safe and protected and loved. Dean's hugs make everything better.Sam's blanks out everything bad, all of the pain and panic and just thinks of Dean.*Sam wants for this to be over, because it hurts, and he can feel something dripping down his thighs, can smell the whiskey on his dad's breath, and he can hear all the things his dad is saying, like how beautiful Sam is, how perfect, how he's just like Mary, and he loves Mary, loves Sam, so much, so goddamn much.Sam can feel a combination of blood.sweat.tears and he think that if this is how his dad shows love then he doesn't want John to love him.He just wants Dean.*John finishes and Sam barely stifles a sob when John pulls out.His eyes are shut tight, but he can still feel tears dripping down his face.John kisses his cheek, whispers a quiet "I love you" and then Sam is alone.*Dean opens the door to the apartment and steps into a nightmare. He's dimly aware that he drops the pizza.No. Nononononono.Sammy. Sam. SamSamSamohgodSammy.His baby brother, light of his life, his best friend, his kid, his baby boy, his everything.Sam.Naked. Face down on the couch, blood and cum dripping down his bare thighs. Everything is a wreck. The coffee table kicked over, a broken shot glass. Sam's jeans and boxers mock Dean from where they lay in a heap on the floor.Dean screams.*Sam is jolted back into consciousness by Dean's horror-filled voice, Dean's loving hands stroking his hair, DeanDeanDean.Dean's home. Dean is here. Dean can fix this.*"Sam, what happened?" Dean asks, wiping away tears.Sam whispers one word."Dad."Dean grabs his gun. "Dean, I don't know if it was him..."Sam and Dean both hope they have to perform an exorcism.*When John's eyes do not turn black, Dean feels no guilt, no remorse when he pulls the trigger.He feels relief.*Sam is cradled in his arms, fresh from a hot bath and he smells like green apple shampoo and innocence. Sam is everything good in Dean's world. Sam still smiles when Dean ruffles his hair affectionately and he still leans in close when Dean kisses his forehead.Dean and Sam still have each other and they are strong enough to survive anything. |
1179950 | Swearing Makes You Feel | {
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"Characters": "Nitori Aiichirou, Hazuki Nagisa, Ryuugazaki Rei, Tachibana Makoto, Nanase Haruka, Matsuoka Rin",
"Fandom": "Free!",
"Language": "English",
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"author": "by BriarMoss15",
"chapters": "1/1",
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"published": "2014-02-11T00:00:00",
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} | "Come on Nitori it's time to get going!" Rin yelled through the dorm. "Hold on a second Sempai! I can't find my stopwatch!" Suddenly,a loud thump echoed through the room as well as hissed swears from Nitori.
" You should really stop swearing so much Ai,"Rin chided."You swear even worse than me!"
They left,locked up the dorm, and headed you for the train."Come one Nitori you need to hurry up!" Rin called as they neared where the Iwatobi team.
"Wait I have to tie my shoe!" When he was finished,he ran to catch up.
"Shit that fucking hurt!" High pitched swearing reached the Iwatobi members ears as Rin and Nitori walked towards them.Nitori was limping from stubbing his toe on a massive rock. "Stop swearing Ai!" Rin sounded exasperated."If Makoto hears you you're going to regret it," He warned.
"Rin-chan,Ai-chan!" Nagisa squealed and threw himself at Nitori effectively making them crash to the ground. Nitori managed to get away from that with only cursing under his breath."
"It's all right Nagisa."Nitori said for the tenth time. "Don't worry,Accidents happen."
"Really Ai-chan?! You're so nice!!! Rei-chan wouldn't have been so nice." He said while glaring back at Rei.
"Who wants to go to the pool?" Makoto shouted back to them.After a fight between Nagisa and Haru on whether they should get something to eat or go to the pool,they decided to go to the pool.
"You've improved a lot Nitori!" Makoto smiled as he stopped the stopwatch. "Really Makoto?!"Nitori squealed.
"You should go rest for a while though."Makoto suggested."We don't want you tiring yourself out." Nitori got out of the pool and started walking to the locker room to get a drink when his feet flew out from underneath him. Rin saw from across the pool and started running to him.
"Ai! Are you okay?!" He yelled frantically when he saw the boy grabbing his ankle.
"Fuck! Shit!" Nitori began as a string of all the swear words he knew flew from his mouth. All the Iwatobi members accept Haru stopped where they were and gawked at Nitori.Haru made it to Nitori first."Are you okay? Is your ankle broken?" He immediately asked. He felt Nitori's leg and determined that it was either badly sprained of fractured. "You should go to the doctor to make sure that everything's fine.And by the way."He lowered his voice."I didn't take you as swearer," he chuckled to Nitori |
1195461 | Glow | {
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} | "You don't have to do this." Hot Rod was looking distinctly small and uncomfortable in the seat built for him, back when he still had a Prime's mass. He pulled his knees up a bit when Optimus knelt at its base, but when Optimus gestured he relaxed them again and let his pede rest in Optimus's broad palm."I want to." Optimus bent his head, focusing entirely on the task at hand. Knowing Hot Rod's sensitivity, he confined himself to a lighter touch with the polishing cloth than he would have preferred for himself, but it didn't take much effort to make Hot Rod shine the way he deserved to. Pede and ankle, careful and skillful strokes around the joint, then a long slow stroke up the shin as Hot Rod visibly tried not to wiggle. Optimus shuttered his optics a moment to gather his self-control, and continued his work by touch."Do you want me to return the favor when you're done?" Hot Rod asked abruptly, as Optimus let one pede go to cradle the other."I don't require reciprocation." Optimus let his fond amusement show in his voce. "But if you wish to, I won't object. Just don't expect much - there's only so far a coat of polish can improve this frame."He'd meant it in a joking manner, but Hot Rod's reply was heated. "There's nothing wrong with how you look!"Optimus held his laughter in. "Thank you, Hot Rod." Truthfully, he liked how he looked overall, but a lifetime of war had left a network of scars and patches all over his body, flaws that would take far too long to smooth away. Compared to him, Hot Rod was a fey beauty, flawless in every aspect. ...A bit of a mystified fey, bending forward to watch as Optimus finished polishing his lower legs."Permission to move up?" Optimus asked, gaze flickering up to Hot Rod's slender thighs.Hot Rod's reply was velvet-soft. "Yeah."Optimus's engine hummed. Slowly, so as not to startle the younger mech, he shifted position to kneel directly between Hot Rod's thighs and began polishing again - no, 'caress' might have been a better word, as light and gentle as his touch was, though there was no intent behind it. None but making Hot Rod feel relaxed and cared-for, at least. Hot Rod moved as he wordlessly directed, his unease at the attention no match for his trust in Optimus, and as the elder Prime continued up to polish his hips Hot Rod reached out and let his hand fall gently on Optimus's helm.Never had he felt so blessed. Optimus purred his engine, tilting his helm down under Hot Rod's hand, and continued his service as Hot Rod softly traced his fingertips over Optimus's head. He wondered, somewhat whimsically, if this was what it had felt like to be a priest of Primus, back when Cybertron's temples had still stood proudly in their cities and people had no need to trade praise hymns for battle cries. Autobots did not worship other mortal mechs, nor accept worship from others, but for Hot Rod, his successor and his Prime, Optimus might - secretly - come a bit too close for propriety.Hot Rod's palm stroked warmly over the back of his helm, and Optimus shuttered his optics, pausing in the middle of polishing Hot Rod's chest just to feel it. "I'm going to return the favor," Hot Rod told him firmly. "Just to let you know."As you wish. "Thank you for the advance warning," Optimus answered, mock-grave, and glanced up in time to see Hot Rod smile. |
11169270 | Zhong Jie Shi Yu Ge Pai | {
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} | JASON TODD一头栽进了帐篷里。
“该死的——该死的——”
他哆哆嗦嗦的扔下防风镜和登山包，小声的咒骂着，眉毛上的融化的雪花淌下来，ROY钝钝的拉开帐篷挤着身子想进来，被JASON怒气冲冲的吼了几句；
“把拉链关紧！”他嘶嘶抽着气，把手凑到煤气炉旁边急不可耐的烘烤着，所有的东西摸起来都冷得像哥谭的石雕一样，他止不住牙齿打颤，怨忿的皱着眉头，军火库在后面的行囊里埋头掏着罐头；冒着寒气的黄豆和玉米，昨天如此，前天也是如此——再往前——JASON悲伤的想到，早知道他们应该多带一些午餐肉和西红柿的。
“安啦，”
ROY抬起身子，扔给JASON一个罐头，像以往一样摇晃着脑袋用轻快的声音安抚着他：
“杰杰鸟，快，煮了这碗豆子汤，它会让你好起来的。”
好个屁。JASON绷着嘴角，把另一只手缩进防寒衣温暖的夹层里，罐头冰冷的金属外壳让他狠狠激灵了一下。
“他们可真够狡猾的。”
ROY蹲在角落，倒腾着那个手持DV机，“我们小心翼翼跟了这么久，结果那些家伙只是发现有一点点不对劲就窜得老远，就跟雪地里的大兔子似的。”
“别跟我说这个。”JASON搅拌着那一小罐稀糊糊的豆子汤，煤气炉微小的火苗让他蜷起了膝盖，紧紧把自己裹成一团。
“我本来只是想来狠狠踢踢那些混蛋的屁股，结果在这冰天雪地的鬼地方爬了三天的山，老天，这么些时日了，一颗子弹都没用。”
ROY笑嘻嘻的凑过来，把手伸进JASON冲锋衣里面柔柔的搂着他的腰，在背后把JASON环抱起来：
“别生气啦杰杰鸟，我们也不是一点收获都没有——你看，排除我们那毫无进展的委托，这可是一个完美的雪国假期。”
对啊，完美，除了他们就快要冻死在这个寒酸的帐篷里了。
JASON翻了一个白眼，他注意到即使ROY一进帐篷就把羽绒服脱掉了，只剩下打底的抓绒衫，可是这傻瓜的手依旧温温热热，这让JASON微妙的嫉妒了起来。
“为什么你就不怕冷——”
他嘟嘟囔囔，喝了一口煮好的豆子汤，然后把它塞进了ROY手里，军火库垂在他脖子旁的发丝挠得他有些痒——“这算什么，傻人有傻福么。”
“因为我出发之前喝了几口大宝贝儿。”ROY得意的指指角落里的大罐伏特加
“好家伙，不枉我千辛万苦的把它们背上来，说真的，你也应该试试。”
“没用，我早试过了。”JASON孜孜不倦的在那火苗旁搓着手：
“那东西会让我想上厕所，我还不想年纪轻轻就在这冰天雪地里没了命根子，”他调着炉子上的旋钮试图让它们更努力的热点“或者尿裤子。”
ROY被他的话逗得哈哈笑起来，
“杰杰鸟啊，”
他挪到JASON旁边去，把JASON的手捧起来放在嘴边哈着气：
“我都不敢想象你是怎么在哥谭那种地方穿着小短裤过冬的。”
“闭嘴。”
JASON被他的话激得耳朵发红“谁说我冬天还穿着那条蠢到爆的裤子了。”
“嗯……”ROY玩着他的手指“你瞧，布鲁斯爱的小裤衩给予过你力量，别不承认。我敢说当初那个感冒了也执拗的想要帮忙的杰杰鸟不是阿福梦里可爱的小牙仙。”
“你从谁那里听来的，奥利？还是夜翼。”
军火库只是笑着摇摇头。
JASON的脸黑得越来越厉害了，他把手抽出来；
“走开。”
“杰杰鸟？”ROY露出一个有些惊讶的表情，他几乎是马上就把JASON的手抓了回去
“如果你不喜欢这种玩笑，我马上道歉。”
JASON愣了一会儿没有说话。
他呆呆的看着ROY脸上几乎讨好的表情，和他同伴脸上被冰茬子刮伤的眼角，欲言又止，最后，他只能不受控制的扯了面颊。
“没，我……”他想反过来握着ROY的手，可是半途却僵直的停住了。
“可能是真的太冷了。”
那些话就像被冻住的引擎似的只能发出闷闷的声响，他小心翼翼的打量着ROY的眼睛观察他对这个糟糕搪塞的反应，慢吞吞的解释着，ROY讪笑着的嘴角让他感到一点酸涩的不适：
“最近这三天我……挺烦躁的。”
ROY眨巴着眼睛打量了他一会儿，
最后，他慢慢撅着嘴巴把身子挂上来，温温的吐息喷在JASON的后颈上：
“那，那我们早点休息，”他小声的诺诺着“我知道你累得够呛，杰杰鸟”
JASON咬了一下ROY的手臂。
“嗯。”
他回答到，坐在原地，看着ROY弓着腰把那个大大的双人睡袋放在地上。 JASON是被一阵悉悉索索的轻笑吵醒的。
他睁开眼睛，红发看起来没有避讳的意思，他绿莹莹的眼睛弯睁得比以往都大，在炉火映照下，ROY发红眼窝深深的凹陷进去，胡茬稀稀拉拉的贴服在他的下巴上，他愣愣的看着他，似乎就像一个刚刚死而复生的亡灵。
JASON觉得背脊有些发寒，他伸出手去摸了摸对方的额头，上面挂着汗珠却一片冰凉。
“你是不是生病了。”他皱着眉头
“说真的，你看起来就像个邪恶的僵尸或者什么别的……”
“别担心……”ROY眨了一下眼睛，那双绿瞳仁充满了迷雾；
“我只是做了一个梦。”
他把手从睡袋里抽出来，贴在JASON的脸颊上
“在梦里，我有一个女儿。”
——那手掌潮热温暖，但是红发吞吞吐吐的倾诉着，语气如同结了霜的雾霭：
“后来，我失去她了。”
JASON没有说话，他安静的躺在睡袋里，ROY的话让他觉得对方是不是又久违的摄入了过度的酒精，可是那双手温暖非常，几乎让他陷入到睡前的氤氲之中。于是他侧着身子，朦朦胧胧地盯着ROY的红发丝听他唠叨。
“你相信时空管理局么？杰杰鸟？”
“嗯？”
“我很小的时候”ROY轻声说着：“就不相信圣诞老人了。可是我总觉得……时空管理局，理应是存在的。我小的时候……一直想当一个里面的高级计算师来的。”
“拨乱反正，修正历史，避免发生灾乱的指向必然发展的最大可能，非常理想……非常……崇高。我符合里面所有的条件，一个几乎不会对历史产生影响也不会对他人产生联系的小蚂蚁——你能想象我高中的时候还在期待哪一天被人接走么。”
ROY的话让JASON有些心烦意乱，他拧着眉头盯着ROY开开合合的嘴唇，很多时候JASON并不是不乐于聆听他那疯疯癫癫的红发朋友的话，可惜ROY猜想里的伤感让他莫名的火大。
“说不定在另外一个时空，我或许曾经有一个家庭。可后来它破碎了。”
——就像我生命里其他的关系一样——ROY看着自己呼出的空气变成白雾飘散在他们之间；
“于是这个既有事实通过时空隧道的坍缩交叠于此——”他的体温恒定的传到JAY的防寒衣里：
“今天我终于得以见到了我那令人心碎的小女儿，来自另一个平行宇宙。她可真是很美——就像一个小小的丘比特。”
JASON觉得不可置信——他并不热衷于组建家庭，何曾几时，JASON也相信ROY也对此兴趣全无，但是现在，他开始疑惑了。
“可是现在，至少现在”他打断他：“至少我们还活着，孑然一身，躺在这个该死的冰窟里”，如果真的像你所说的那样，我倒希望另一个平行时空的自己可以吃着热腾腾苹果派，裹着棉被躺在沙发上。”
ROY笑了出来，他脸颊挤出一条浅浅的纹路：“对啊，说不定你还是个牧师什么的。不过时空技师的责任是让这个世界迈入更加平衡的正轨，杰杰鸟。如果我们足够幸运，说不定在无数个分叉口中，这已经是我们最好的处境了。你懂，最小必要变革。”
“那我们真天杀的是一对十足的倒霉蛋。”JASON闷闷的声音从睡袋里传来，红发嘴角的弧度弯得更加厉害，他轻轻揉弄着JASON的头发，声音就像是从远方的山头传来：
“杰杰鸟，我有时候可真是爱死你这种满不在乎了。”
JASON把臂膀从睡袋里抽出来，圈了圈ROY的肩膀表示安慰。
我们就像两条虚弱的毛毛虫，他想，睡袋包裹的ROY摸起来也是冷冰冰的。这让他轻微的不安。今天的ROY依旧是个话多的家伙，可是他说的所有话都没有平日里的傻劲儿——这不像他，ROY HARPER应该是一个擅长甜言蜜语的傻瓜蛋，而不是一位虚无缥缈的预言家。
“不过……我得说，杰杰鸟。”
ROY的脸凑过来，带着热气，他橙色的眼睫毛半阖着，在微弱的炉火下映射出一点微微的火光——杰杰鸟,他在他的耳边轻声的说着话，气音闯进他的喉咙和他的耳蜗：
“对于一个当不成计算师的人来说，你可真是个美好的礼物。”
JASON感到自己的耳朵微微发红，
“你是不是快困糊涂了”
他把自己的眼睛往帐篷的角落里撇着，这太尴尬了，他感到自己的声音发涩；蝙蝠家的男孩们从来学不会对别人耍这样的把戏，就算那只大蓝鸟也会为此不好意思的。
“我也爱你，Jason。”他听见ROY对他说，词不达意。随即，一个潮热的吻落在他的嘴边，那些不算顺滑也不算毛糙的红发丝钻进他的颈窝和胸膛，这可是团队合作为数不多的好了，免费的HARPER牌暖炉。
JASON躺在那篇温热里，他想，ROY是时候不要看那么多科幻小说了。
“在我们达到必然的分离之前。”
对方轻微的呢喃，红头罩阖下了眼帘。“ROY，”他的声音沙哑，西伯利亚的风实在太干涩了。他想念安全屋里塞得满满当当的冰箱，和暖和和的弹簧床垫，甚至是ROY充斥着机油味的工具房——
“你得相信，如果我们哪一天分开，就会在热寂之后成为红矮星。”
“ROY HARPER和JASON TODD，整个宇宙最亮的两颗，”他重复着：“最亮的。ROY在黑暗里轻声笑了。
“别笑。ROY，别笑。”
JASON窝在睡袋里，音节从喉咙里慢慢滑出。“这可是，我高中以来最好的梦想了。” |
11103000 | Love is a Battlefield | {
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"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Miroku (InuYasha), Sango (InuYasha)",
"Fandom": "InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale",
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} | AUTHOR: Angelhart GENRE: romance/humor STORY: one shot STATUS: complete RATING: M/MA (this story contains adult content) DISCLAIMER: InuYasha ©2000 Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan - Yomiuri TV - Sunrise All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ‾
When I'm losing control Will you turn me away Or touch me deep inside And when all this gets old Will it still feel the same There's no way this will die But if we get much closer I could lose control And if your heart surrenders You'll need me to hold
Love is a battlefield
‾ She was hurting, she was sore, but it didn't matter. Her back forcibly pressed against the trunk she felt every little upcoming bruise protesting already. His hands holding her up and cupping her so firmly. His tongue in her mouth, the feel of his waist caught in the strong grip of her legs.She didn't know who had taken the lead, who had taken the initiative. Him. Or her.But it had been sudden. After eying the end result of their battle field they had suddenly eyed each other.And now her support was a tree and his hands and her fingers were roaming trough his hair. The strap that was binding it to a ponytail sliding off and falling to become lost in the tall grass below their feet. Her mouth was desperate for the touch of his lips and she held him there with pressure against the back of his head. He obliged greedily.With her legs crossed behind his back she pulled him in even closer. Trusting in her physical strength, one hand that supported her moved to her front. With a precise tug it removed the cord from the button, allowing gravity to pull on the flaps so they fell open, exposing a part of her chest. Just as eager to feel skin she untied the knot of the kesa and pushed it, together with the koromo, over his shoulders. With her fingers skimming over his naked torso a thrust of his pelvis pushed her even harder against the tree, making her grunt against his hungry mouth. The force even causing a shudder in the trunk and making it rain leaves on top of them.Although spring, some of them had blackened or were colored in orange, reds and browns. And it looked like the beginning of fall. Naraku's miasma had caused damage far and wide. Even just a slight contact had been enough to wreak havoc on the land. But nature was already restoring for it was shedding its dead skin as it nurtured on the cleansing rain and the beads of sunlight that made their way through the branches. Even where they stood, the buds of flowers were peeking their heads as they popped up from earth's soil. And a she arched her head, giving his lips access to her neckline, there was plenty of young, beautiful green above her head.She could feel him, already hard and ready as he pressed against her so intimately. Her protective outfit unfortunately not providing the delightful friction she so craved, only pressure. She moved her hands to his face to remove him from the sensitive spot his tongue teased so unmercifully. Forcing him to look into her eyes so he could see her need."I want you," she urged him.He chuckled at the desperation in her voice. Wasn't he supposed to be the lecherous one?His free hand was peeling her out of her suit. Fingers sliding underneath it and pushing the fabric over her shoulders one by one and down, until the top part was now hanging around her waist. She had wanted him to move it over her hips so she could feel him all the better, but at the sight of her breasts, now freed from their confinement, he obviously got distracted. His right hand palming one, while his mouth paid attention to the other."Aah, houshi-sa-" she hissed at the feel of his teeth gently tugging on the nipple, his thumb and index finger copying the movement with the second. Almost painful, yet erotically thrilling. The other hand still holding her, pressing firmly against her rear and she was certain that, if he would alternate the location of his fingers slightly, he would be able to feel her excitement through where her clothing still covered her.The coarse bark of the tree against her back was nothing she couldn't withstand. She was glad he didn't treat her like she was something delicate. Like she was fucking fragile. He never gave her more than she could handle. He had been the perfect gentle lover during her first few times, but as her body had grown accustomed to the act she had called his bluff about his knowledge on positions and dared him to test her stamina. He matched hers perfectly.The fabric of his black koromo parted easily for her fingers and even the fundoshi was easy to manipulate for her to reach her goal. He sucked hard as her hands surrounded him and pulled on him as if she tried to evoke him to penetrate her through the tough material of her outfit. She had no doubt he would have attempted to do so if it weren't just simpler to get the restraint out of his way.She arched her back, forcing her hips away from the trunk as his hand tugged on her suit again. This time not stopping until it was now just only covering her legs and his path for alignment was cleared. And he wasted no second as he thrust forward, her fingers being his guide. The full weight of his body pressing her hard against the tree as he forced her to take him to the hilt and his hips pressed firmly against her own. Her legs trembled in the strain she put on her muscles to support herself and him and he rubbed her thighs soothingly as he panted against her neck."Please." She wanted more than just the feel of him. She wanted movement, friction.His eyes locked with hers as he tilted his pelvis and his hands angled her before he pulled back and rocked forward. Grinning wickedly as she wanted to urge him into a faster and harder rhythm right away and he stilled her.Damn the monk for being stronger than he looked. His lean physique was deceiving. In these type of battles he could best her and he knew it. One hand reached down in between them and stroked her with measured precision. And with that touch he had broken her resistance like his charms broke down demon defenses.She tugged on his hair now loose and messy, forcing him to bend forward. But he didn't kiss her and remained inches away from her lips. His eyes were dark. Pools of blackness like the void of the old curse that had been part of him. Now, he was freed from it and that once so dangerous hand was trying to cause a new oblivion as it forced her to surrender to whatever he gave to her."Yes, Sango?" he asked her provocatively."No man should have power like this," she whispered against his lips."That's because you're so hard to beat. The gods provided me with this leverage of control," he smirked."Oh, shut up." Tightening the hold on his face she pressed her mouth against his.When his thrusts became harder and she had taken hold of his shoulders to avoid a painful burn of the wood against her back, she watched his face with fascination. His eyes focused on where they were joined, the deep red flush on his face that she knew was on hers as well. His hoarse grunts with every forward push of his hips filling the forest. His strokes on a part of her that had now become so sensitive had become more urgent. And when she came he moved them to the ground and with the soft cool grass against her skin he pounded into her body, as if he was trying to plow into the earth itself. Pushing himself deep within her she could feel the shudder in him as he met his own finale.She pulled his body towards hers until he was face to face with her and she felt the pressure of his weight on top of her. In this delicate moment where they were one she felt the need to hold him close. To stroke his face, his body. For this could still be a dream. A terrible nightmare. And as his fingers caressed her face so lovingly she knew, deep down inside, he feared the same. For when so many unrealities had been forced upon you, how could you tell which one was real?Perhaps that miserable feeling would never go away and would haunt them forever. The price to pay for all their sins.She looked at their surroundings. A scene being anything but romantic. In the midst of demon body parts, they had somehow managed to find a moment of solitude. A little paradise. And if she erased the result of their battle, this place would have been perfect. The world around them blooming just like the tiny seed of their love was blooming inside of her.His eyes followed her right hand as it moved down to the barely visible swell of her belly. Then his own hand covered hers and she could picture this moment taking place months later. The anxiety of feeling a little kick or nudge against both their fingers.But it was way too early for that now, for it had just recently sprouted. But what a joyful way it was to celebrate spring! The start of a new life. The start of their new life.He kissed her. So tenderly, so loving and this time the adrenaline rush would have no influence anymore. This time it would be slow and sweet. She pulled up her right leg and brushed it against his side and he grinned against her lips, clearly amused by the fact that she so eagerly showed her interest in a repeat.But then he raised his head and turned his attention to a demon body a couple of feet away from where they were. She followed his gaze then laughed softly, lowering her leg."I think," he said, "I would rather continue this at a different location."He pushed off her and held out his hand to pull her to a stand as well. Then his hands were in her hair as he freed her pony tail from bark, twigs, leaves and grass. As he dressed, she could hear him snicker as he obviously watched her struggle in pulling the tight slayers outfit over her sweaty skin. The moment it was over her hips she felt his hands surrounding her. Fingers taking hold on the fabric waiting for to release it so he could take over."I don't know what I like more," he breathed in her ear, "Aiding you in putting it on, or taking it off.""The latter," she replied in laughter.And she... maybe both just as much. The sleeves were pulled over her arm like the caress of a lover. He was even thoughtful and careful when he arranged the suit over her breasts, making sure it fitted comfortably. As she closed the front his hands moved down and slid over her behind, making sure he squeezed both curves equally hard.She spun around. "If you don't stop, we won't make it to the other location." Which could be anywhere. Their home, or just a secluded spot on their way there.He smiled wickedly. "I prefer this threat more than the previous slapping I received."She reached out to him and moved her fingers through his hair. Bringing her mouth close to his she whispered: "I bet."He wanted to kiss her, but she had already pulled away. Watching the funny sight of his eyes opening, his slightly open mouth slowly closing and his face pulling back as he realized she wasn't there anymore.She had grabbed Hiraikotsu and was waiting for him to take hold of his staff. But he was now kneeling down in the grass and feeling the surface with his hand. She knew what he was looking for and setting the large boomerang down to rest against the tree that had supported her previously, she searched with him. Her fingers feeling through the grass and the fallen leaves until they encountered something that felt off. She raised her hand triumphantly and when he moved forward to grab it from her, she pulled back as she rose to a stand. Again, he reached for it, but she moved her hand away from his. He stepped forward, his body now pressing against hers and searched for her hand that she held behind her back. His arms surrounding her, he tried to capture her wrist, but she was quicker."Sango." His eyes narrowed and he looked almost cross. If only he weren't practically laughing at her successful attempt of preventing him to retrieve the object in her hand, she might had taken the firm tone in his voice seriously."Allow me." She wound her arms around his neck and moved her fingers through his hair that was still damp from their previous activity. Gathering all the strands she wrapped the strap around them. Just enough hair for a short ponytail. And the ones that weren't long enough were perfect to ran her fingers through.Again, he failed in kissing her, for she turned around once more just before his lips managed to touch hers. Picking up the boomerang from its resting place she carefully made her way passed the remains of their battlefield. Behind her she could hear the familiar clanging sound of the rings on his staff and the cracking sound of his sandals with each step as he followed her. A faster pace that was meant to catch up.There was a brush against her rear, yet suddenly the hand retreated. She had turned her head to look at him, smiling, but as she looked back she realized where the sudden retreat had come from. On the path they followed, Inuyasha appeared in front of them. And behind him, Kohaku with Kirara.An exaggerated sigh escaped Miroku's lips and Sango couldn't resist to giggle. So much for a repeat."Oi! You guys alright?" Inuyasha asked as he approached. "You were gone an awful long time."They looked at each other. Monk and slayer trying hard not to grin."We thought you might be in need of help." Kohaku added.Then Inuyasha stepped forward and took a long sniff. Turning around he shook his head. "Let's head back, kid. These two are fine.""You sure?"Sango poked Miroku in his side when she noticed he was about to laugh at her brother's question."Damn right I'm sure."Kirara took a whiff as well before she also shook her head and turned around to follow Inuyasha, despite the reluctance of her new master."But they might need help." The young slayer protested."Kid, trust me, they don't need help with that."There was an awkward silence as they both watched their friends disappear in the distance. Then out of the blue Miroku blurted out: "I think we need a bath."She looked at him, his eyes sparkled mischievously. It wasn't hard to read his thoughts.The spring water would be cold, but she was certain they would find a way to keep warm. |
11199009 | First Love was a Lie | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Min Yoongi | Suga, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Namjoon | Rap Monster, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Jeon Jungkook, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Bangtan Boys Ensemble",
"Fandom": "방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by lvcinox",
"chapters": "2/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-14T00:00:00",
"words": "2,696",
"Additional Tags": "bts fanfic, bts scenario, taekook mentioned, Namjin mentioned, Fluff and Angst, slight smut later on, love hate relationship, yoonmin, soft jimin, Shy Jimin, Teen Romance, bts fanfiction, Dating AU, Highschool AU, Fluffy, angsty, Awkward Romance, Cute Min Yoongi | Suga, Min Yoongi | Suga is Bad at Feelings, Alternate Universe",
"Relationship": "Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | “Gah. I’m not doing this anymore. It doesn’t make any sense! It’s practically pointless.” Jimin complained as he threw his pen across the table, before plonking his head down on the table. Mathematics was the subject that he hated the most. That being said, he took no interest in any other subjects in school, apart from dance and music production.
“Come on. You’ve been stuck on question one since forever…It’s been half an hour since class started.” Taehyung glanced over at Jimin, who was now drooling over his crumpled worksheet. Taehyung shook his head in silent disapproval, giving Jimin a hard slap on the back.
“Get up, idiot.”
Much to Taehyung’s irritation, Jimin merely responded with a slight groan, scrunching his brows together.
“Tsk. This kid…”
-
The busy chattering and laughter filled the first floor of the crowded school during lunch time, and Jimin sat at the far corner of the canteen, staring blankly into the void with his half-lidded eyes. He heaved a heavy sigh, propping his chin on his palms as his lips fell into a pout.
He’d never felt so lonely ever since his best friend, Hoseok, graduated and moved to a dance academy far away in Seoul. From then on, it was difficult to go to dance class - after he had been hit with the realisation that he would probably never be able to dance with Hoseok anymore. The occasional text that Hoseok sends comforts him once in awhile, sure, but that temporary relief never lasted more than a short moment.
“Snap out of it, and get your lonely ass off my chair.” Taehyung shooed as he slammed his food tray on the table with a loud clank. Jimin grunted, pulling a chair over with his leg and moved over sluggishly.
“What’s up with you?”
“Ugh!” Jimin exclaimed, ruffling a small hand through his fluffed up hair. “Bored, bored and bored.”
“Look, I get it. Hobi-hyung’s graduated and you miss him. But it’s been half a goddamn year! I can’t say that I don’t miss him, but get over it will ya? It’s not like you can’t visit him in Seoul during school holidays…” Taehyung poked at his food with a hesitant fork, glancing over at the boy slumped over the table.
“It’s not the same without him…And it’s not just about the dance class. Everything else! I basically did everything with him. He’s my best friend, Tae. Our best friend. It’s just. So weird without him.”
There was a moment of silence before Taehyung sighed loudly, dragging the back of his hand across his lips to wipe off bits of food remnants sitting at the corner of his mouth. It was clear he wanted to change the topic, unwilling to continue indulging in Jimin’s bout of self-isolation. “Oh, that’s right.” He said, tone suddenly brighter, “Have you heard about the new kid joining us tomorrow?”
“A transfer in the middle of the year?”
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and nodded lazily, “I guess so.”
Taking a quick glance at the clock hanging by the entrance into the cafeteria, Taehyung picked up his empty tray and clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Come on, we’ve got to get to class.”
The thought of sitting through another two hours of class bored him to death. Jimin pressed his lips into a thin line, running his stubby fingers through his unkempt hair once again, adjusting his the thick, black frame of his glasses before pulling himself up from the chair.
“Yeah.” He muttered.
Giggles and mutters filled the hallways as Jimin and Taehyung strolled passed the lockers, girls (and boys) taking quick but shy glances at the both of them before turning away quickly and squealing among themselves. Hands buried deep in his pockets, Jimin’s lips morphed into a slight smirk, almost as if he was enjoying the attention that he was getting. Well, he was. It was always an ego boost to see others appreciating his, in Tae’s exact words, poppin’ good looks.
“Wipe that smirk off your face Jimin.” Tae remarked, his mouth quirking up at the corners, “It’s not like you care to date anyone of them anymore.”
“Well, I’m not the only one they’re looking at.”
Once they had reached class, the duo settled down at their usual corner at the back of the room. Reclining in his chair, Jimin reached under his table and pulled out a stack of beautifully folded letters. Some were covered with the scent of perfume, some were topped with laced stickers, others were just plainly decorated with the word “Saranghaeyo, oppa~!” on it. Love letters. They were always mildly embarrassing, but so flattering.
“Shall add these to the pile I collected after break two hours ago, and maybe stack them in my growing collection back at home?” Jimin said half-jokingly.
“Why don’t you just throw them away if you aren’t gonna read them?”
“I read them, and it’s amusing. It’s my only source of entertainment nowadays, Tae.”
“As if. Don’t tell me you’re weren’t entertained when Namjoon broke the fridge the other day.”
The memory of Jin-hyung’s horrified expression coupled with Namjoon’s mortified apologies flashed through his mind suddenly, and Jimin couldn’t help but let out a snort of amusement. “Okay, yeah. That too.”
-
There was no reason to explain the restlessness Jimin felt that night after school. Instead of taking time to arrange his scores and working on choreographs like he usually did, he stared blankly at his computer screen. Fidgeting and tugging at the corner of his blanket, Jimin chewed on the insides of his cheeks.
“A transfer, huh.” He caught himself muttering. His heart pumped excitedly at the fact that he’d finally be able to see someone new in school. Ever since Hoseok-hyung left, he never had the chance to find anyone else that was as fun and interesting to hang out with, besides Taehyung.
Tossing his laptop to the side of the bed, Jimin leaned backwards to sink deep into his soft bed. Clutching tightly to his pillows, he took a deep breath as the scent of strawberry cream candles filled his dimly lit room. Jimin closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the wall clock ticking incessantly in the quiet room, lulling him to sleep.
-
Taehyung was surprised to see how exceptionally well-dressed Jimin was the next day. Instead of his usual I’m-an-overworked-college-kid look, Jimin strolled into class with his suede oversized sweater, the one that hung gorgeously off his delicate collarbones - one hand holding on to the loose straps of his bag while the other buried deep within the pockets of his ripped black jeans.
His silver gelled-hair was styled perfectly, and he wearing hazelnut-brown contacts instead of his usual glasses, something he usually saved for special occasions.
“Whoa.” Taehyung remarked, glancing at Jimin from head to toe.
“Why are you looking at me as if you’re seeing me for the first time?” Jimin asked, pulling the chair out from under the table roughly before settling down beside Taehyung.
“It’s just…Wow.”
Taehyung shifted his gaze back to his phone as a tall, skinny woman walked into class. Tapping of her thick heels impatiently, she waited for everyone in class to give her their attention. It was their lecturers, and one of the most boring ones, at that.
Lagging behind her was someone Jimin assumed was the new transfer student. It took a grand total of one look at him and suddenly, Jimin was so thankful he’d chosen to spend an extra thirty minutes on his appearance in the morning.
The boy who had just stepped into the classroom was just a tad taller than he was, yet inexplicably he was seemed to be so much narrower. His messy, ruffled mint-green hair framed his face perfectly - who could even pull off that cotton candy colour? Flashing a quick grin at the students in class, Jimin caught sight of the light glint of a lip ring nestled very attractively in the corner of his bottom lip. Oh, good God.
Jimin gripped onto the sides of his chair, unable to take his eyes off the new transfer. He was totally oblivious to the things that were happening around him, and for some reason, he found himself holding onto his breath. Taehyung seemed oblivious to his suffering.
The transfer introduced himself in a slow, lazy drawl that had just the slightest bits of Daegu satoori present in the ends of his words. Through the sound of his very loud heartbeat, Jimin heard nothing but his name.
“Min Yoongi.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Jiminnie.
Jimin ah.
Park Jimin!
Taehyung snapped his fingers at Jimin, who couldn’t stop gaping at the boy standing by the teacher’s table. “Jimin!” Taehyung called out again, before nudging him hard with his elbows.
“You’re starting to drool.” Taehyung said flatly.
“Huh? What? Where?” Coming back to his senses, Jimin frantically swiped the back of his hand over his mouth, rubbing the corners of his lips.
“Kidding.”
“You’re such a jerk, you know that?” Jimin rolled his eyes before leaning back on his chair.
“You were staring, dear.”
“I wasn’t!”
“You’re a damn liar.” Taehyung chuckled teasingly, only to be pinched hard on the arm by Jimin. He winced, rubbing the stinging spot gently. “Ow, jeez! Why’re you so violent?”
Jimin scoffed, before shifting himself slightly just so he could sit facing the new boy, who had so conveniently taken the seat directly in front of him. Jimin pursed his lips nervously, his heart pumping against his chest as he hesitated to introduce himself.
Taehyung, being the shitty fucktard of a friend that he was, took a few glances between Jimin and Yoongi, before deciding to tap Yoongi on the shoulder. Jimin’s eyes widened as he shot Taehyung a death glare, slapping him hard on his stomach. Taehyung grinned, in partial cheekiness and partial pain. He was always one to play wingman.
“What.” Jimin and Taehyung heard Yoongi grunt, before he tilted his head backwards.
Jimin felt his face burn up even before he made eye contact with the pale boy. His heart thumping so loudly he was afraid that Yoongi would hear it. Jimin bit his lower lip nervously, and by the time Yoongi’s eyes met with his, his ears were tinted with a bright shade of pink.
Yoongi was completely captivated by Jimin’s outstanding features. In fact, Jimin was definitely the first person he noticed when he stepped into that classroom. Yoongi wasn’t one to talk to people he didn’t know, but for some reason, he had a burning desire to get to know this boy.
His gaze was fixed on the silver-haired boy, barely noticing Taehyung’s desperate attempt to capture his attention.
“J-Jimin.”
“Sorry, what?” Yoongi seemed to have trouble hearing, as he scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. Jimin inhaled sharply as Yoongi craned his neck towards him, their faces just inches apart.
“Park J-Jimin!” Jimin stuttered frantically, his hands clutching onto his sleeves as he leaned backwards. “That’s my name…”
“Ah.” Yoongi’s confused face morphed into a dimpled smile, “Nice to meet you, Jimin.”
Disappointed at the fact that he was completely ignored, Taehyung leaned against Jimin, pushing him to the side just so that he would be in Yoongi’s line of sight.
“I’m Kim Taehyung!” He started, grinning from ear to ear. “Welcome to Busan Arts High.”
Yoongi’s eyes broke away from Jimin’s, drifting towards Taehyung. Not knowing how to respond to Taehyung, he replied with a simple “thanks.” His awkwardness only led to a good minute of silence and staring, Taehyung forcing a smile in return.
“Ahem.” Jimin, who was getting extremely uncomfortable with the situation, cleared his throat before continuing, “Why d-don’t we all just hang out during break l-later…?”
“A-ah. Sure…” Yoongi replied simply, turning back around his seat.
“God damn you Tae!” Jimin hissed at Taehyung, who had then shifted his chair just so slightly away from Jimin, knowing that if he didn’t he would probably be smacked hard in the face. Taehyung glanced at Jimin apologetically, mouthing the word sorry.
-
“Where the hell is that brat?” Jimin scoffed, sitting by the bench near the cafeteria. Taehyung was late, which was surprising since he was always fussy about latecomers. He’d always be the one pulling Jimin out of the dorm room just so that they could be at least thirty minutes early for class.
“Hey.” Jimin heard a familiar voice from next to him.
“Hey? Hey?! Why the hell are you late? I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes you dumbass!” Jimin spat without thinking. It was just silence, Taehyung kept silent. Jimin tried to continue, only to realise that he’d just completely made a fool out of himself. It wasn’t Taehyung. It was Yoongi.
Fuck. I messed up. Jimin ruffled his hair, his face flushed with a bright shade of pink.
“Tch. Ouch.” Yoongi placed a hand on his chest, pretending to look hurt. “That’s how you talk to newcomers, huh?” He pouted, before plopping down next to Jimin.
Jimin shifted himself awkwardly, his hands clutching tightly to the insides of his sleeve.
“Here.” Yoongi stretches out his hand, passing a tiny crumpled note to Jimin. “Taehyung told me to pass this to you…”
What the fuck.
Jimin held the crumpled paper in his hands, trying his best to unfold it without tearing it up. It must’ve been obvious that he was leaning away from Yoongi, or at least he was trying to, because Jimin had realised that Yoongi was shifting closer towards him, they were so close that he could almost feel Yoongi’s breath by his neck.
His breath shortened, stiffening his neck and he hadn’t the guts to move a single muscle. He was afraid of embarrassing himself in front of Yoongi. He wasn’t one to feel this way, especially when he was well-known flirt in school. He would never miss a single chance to chase after the prettiest girls in school, not that he’d miss any chance flirting with the boys either. Well, at least he used to. Guess it’d be right to say that Hobi-hyung’s absence changed the way he is.
“So, what does the letter say…?” Yoongi asked softly, almost whispering into Jimin’s ears.
“U-uh… N-nothing important.” He managed, “Tae won’t be here for the rest of the day. Apparently he needs to attend some family emergency.”
It was a lie and he knew it.
“Guess we have the time to ourselves then.” Yoongi replied simply, his tone laced with a hint of excitement. Jimin nodded his head in response, a subtle smile placed on his lips.
“What class do you have after break?”
“Nothing… It’s a free period for me.” Yoongi shrugged his shoulders.
“Why don’t you join me for dance class? I have a few friends that I want to introduce you to.” Jimin’s heart pounded excitedly.
“F-friends… huh..” Yoongi’s voice trailed off at the thought of meeting new people as he shifted his gaze away from Jimin.
He looked vaguely sad, as if what Jimin said had triggered some sort of unpleasant memory. Noticing the sudden shift in mood, Jimin fumbled, stuttering out an “I-I mean…I’m not forcing you but…I thought it-it might be nice.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but giggle a little at Jimin as he watched Jimin stumbled over his words, his small chubby hands rubbing the edges of his sleeves nervously. He’d never thought he’d make someone as nervous as Jimin would be around him, but it wasn’t hard to tell that he was enjoying it. Before Jimin could part his lips, Yoongi placed his pale hand over Jimin’s, making him jump a little at the sudden contact.
“I’d love to meet your friends.” Yoongi replied, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. Jimin’s face could not have burned any brighter, his eyes widening as he felt Yoongi squeezing his hands reassuringly. He wasn’t sure how he felt, but he was surely relieved to know that this, was probably the start of something he never thought he’d have ever again.
Noticing the clock that now displayed “10:07am”, Jimin pushed himself up from the bench, his hands still linked with Yoongi’s.
“Guess we better get going then.” |
11170308 | Le Lethe | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor, Sauron | Mairon, Eru Ilúvatar",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by heartstone",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-11T00:00:00",
"words": "2,440",
"Additional Tags": "Hurt/Comfort, Romance",
"Relationship": "Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms",
"Archive Warnings": null,
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} | Le Léthé
(Poem Excerpt by Charles Baudelaire)
***
To bury my head, full of pain,
In your skirts redolent of your perfume,
To inhale, as from a withered flower,
The moldy sweetness of my defunct love.
I wish to sleep! to sleep rather than live!
In a slumber doubtful as death,
I shall remorselessly cover with my kisses
Your lovely body polished like copper.
To bury my subdued sobbing
Nothing equals the abyss of your bed,
Potent oblivion dwells on your lips
And Léthé flows from your kisses.
***
Warmth, that is what Melkor first becomes aware of when the accursed doors open and oblivion is disturbed. It is a small thing at first- barely a bud of vehemence- but it soon blossoms imperial red until the petals of its influence reach out across the nothingness of deep space to brush its tendrils, feather-like, across His aching flesh. The soft, ebbing heat emanates in thin waves from a dim, flickering glow like embers lying low in a hearth, pulsing with each beat of golden light and washing over His aimless form like one would caress a sleeping lover’s face. His fingers, long numbed to the cold begin to thaw and the stiffness that had burrowed deep in His joints is lifted, shook by sudden tremors. His sprawling body spasms to the ecstasy of the capering flame in a desire as intense as the aurorean luminesce to his long unaccustomed eyes.
He feels the flexing and surging of His own Fëa as it reaches for the Little Flame afore Him, thrumming like the strings of a sonorous cello. How welcoming he pirouettes in the distance- such a sweltering passion unfelt in ages- the fervor of its scarlet and amber flames as it licked and writhed in the surrounding abyss teasing, almost. His once blinded eyes- like pools of jet, reflect the endless pitch around him, an inky and eternal Void, but now settle fixedly on the golden, radiant aura. Vision blurred and smeared with tears until the cinnabar morphed to lustful sanguine and burnt vermeils and yellows startling and lurid in their intensity. And He knows this light, knows each and every slender thread of simmering conflagration.
But the flickering, dim glow is elusive, and in his passage across the threshold of the Door of Night it is shameful to have failed his Master. The flames, so pressing and exposed in its vibrancy attempts to shield himself from the unbroken gaze of his Master’s black eyes, to hide the dishonor of his frail and broken Hröa with the mantle of his opalescent soul. He desperately clung to the ravenous darkness but found only an eternal emptiness that would not respond to his hot touch, to the desperation in his raking nails.
And the Little Flame cannot hide, for his inferno is the only light in all the Void, the only source in all the vastness of eternity. It is an imperishable flame, one that cannot be quenched by the overburdening absolute around him unless he is severed from his Vala. And his Fëa soars like a bonfire to be so close to the one so severely bound to it- he is whole and feels a completion that guides him without conscious thought to the still and silent figure that drifts alone in the darkness.
And Melkor is cold and pale like the moon against the onyx, and His flesh is but a thin veil covering the barely-contained shadows that are His soul. He is bruised purple and fading, like crushed pearl, and even still there are three long talon-marks across His visage, once like marble but now translucent in its emotions and scarred like the surface of gypsum. His hands are still charcoal-grey and in the night the fingers tremor and strain from reaching outward towards His other half.
He beholds the resonating bursts of ruby energy and feels a song well in His throat and outflow from deep within Himself before it can be quelled. The cadence is unlike any before sung and it issues forth from Melkor’s breast as if He were a songbird. The melody within Him is desolate and speaks of unimaginable loneliness and a crushing sorrow but as it passes His cracked and split lips it sounds more like a moan, a whisper of longing than any real tune: a gasping dry as dust.
But the Little Flame can sense the pieces of the music and fit them together, for the golden threads of his Fëa connect with the velvet shadows of his Master’s and the melody is transmuted from soul to soul despite the violent choking that sends sound waves tearing across the fabric of unbroken space. A single tear collects around his slitted eyes and it seemed to freeze there in patient attentiveness, blood and salt and steam from the heat of the Maia’s flesh.
But too soon is he reminded of his pitiful failure, that his Master’s music is so harrowing because he was unsuccessful in releasing Him from the Void. The suffering long endured by the Mighty barred from His own creations, isolated from all that would be destroyed or created at His fell touch was nearly too much, and once more Mairon sought to tuck himself away.
And yet, before the Little Flame can flicker and hide himself behind his thin, four-fingered hand and splay the digits across his half-lidded eyes, the Vala is reaching, reaching further. Silence echoes after the small strangled noise that comes from pale, quivering lips. He stops, fingertips just moments from the Maia, from His other half. It stays there like one warms their hands on a cold day by the fireside, anticipation broiling in the core of their souls while thin lines of their sable and gold auras twirled and courted one another in the vastness.
His Precious is but a diluted shade of his former glory, and secretly the Little Flame thinks that He will not even recognise him as his Hröa is now despite the glow of his soul. He is scrawny and ashen, his once copper skin greyed and dulled and pulled taut across sharp bone; his hair thin and limp, the colour of bleached straw; and his face lined with white scarring and bloody wounds, sclera flushed angry red with broken capillaries.
To Melkor, however, he still smelled like cinnamon and firewood and brown sugar; saffron, honey and pepper- all that is sweet and lively and pleasant. Still his eyes held the penetrating fire that enraptured him in the Beginning, that was chatoyant with the desire to create and to order. And still his form trembled at the thought of Melkor’s cool touch.
The pale, forlorn figure, condemned until the end of Arda, sang again and this time it sounded like a sigh- like a zephyr over lapping waves or the twitching halitus of leaves- and it was such that He was relieved, like He was reveling in the liberation from an oppressive and unbearable burden and He could move again. His murmurs, the susurrations of praise were unintelligible but sparked a surge in both of their Fëa at being so deliciously
near
after ages of being sundered. Sobs quaked the small frame of the Golden Maia, and minutely, sluggishly they sunk into each others grasp. Slowly they folded in on one another, the shadowy figure curling protectively around His Precious, around the only light and heat of the Void.
In their thoughts- for they were infirm and exhausted- they spoke; first in gentle whispers and careful proddings, in music like all the timid plucking of harps and the rustling blow of wind in leaves or the distant signing of choirs or in the solitude of their accustomed voices. The slim shoulders of Mairon--
Mairon:
the name long unspoken but now sacrosanct-- his slim, sickly shoulders heaved in time with the thoughts that emptied unchecked from his mind: of failure, apologies and prostration, even of unworthiness. But the cold, the forlorn, He would not hear it and hushed His Precious with a singular deep strum that vibrated both of their Fëa. Warm, golden rays and ebony darkness bled into the Void, and then Mairon knew that there was nothing for Melkor to forgive, that his Master loved and sheltered him.
Carefully, from the entwined forms a gentle, sorrowful harmony began, despairing: as if it were not two, but one voice. The song was in tune to the surroundings and the waves of illumination and stygian shade and sound rippled like water, until it seemed for a moment to the two reunited that the Void was not so much
the Void
as simply
a void,
so long as both were there. And with the harmony of their music, their energies mingled like they did in Utumno when their Hröa first joined and grew ever stronger in one another. Heat and cold, light and dark; age-old antithesis married in notes of despair and longing, metamorphosing into hope and love, joy and fulfillment, and Bliss. Utter, whole, and complete Bliss that filled the soul such that their music became sobbing at times, the gentle brush of lips at others, and the frantic, exuberant sounds of their coupling: of the bite of teeth and the sting of nails.
Crimson aura bled with soot until they could not be distinguished, their embrace never unlocked, their music never ceased in its endless and exquisite harmony and natural evolution even as the stillness threatened to crush both vulnerable, exposed spirits. Drifting like the waters of Léthé, they relinquished their trouble and their cares and swayed in the fathomless abyss listening to the low, pervasive hum and sometimes bursting into song. But never apart and always in comfort to the other they were Eä,
to be.
Drifting, sustaining and throbbing they grew slowly,
achingly
back into their old power as the Little Flame darkened, skin like burnished copper freckled with shimmering gold, eyes a vibrant and scarlet flame, hair thick orange curls like the fire of his soul. And to Melkor He grew ever in strength with His Precious, skin aglow, hair a glossy raven sheen and His eyes no longer dull but absorbent, ever trained on the Maia He held forever in His arms. And never in their time did they think of escape.
And Mairon forgot his failure on Middle Earth and the Vala forgot His, and they surged and melded and drifted and tasted the Nepenthe on each other’s lips and forgot nothing but themselves, but of their time simply
to be.
Flitting memories of Utumno and Angband, the nights spent in the sweat-soaked silks and furs, and of the night when they wed- or even the contentment of the days when Melkor would rest His head in His Maia’s lap as he fretted over troop reports. Of the days when the Mighty Arising would visit the isolated smith in Aulë’s forges, imagining from the lurking shadows this Golden Spirit in all his splendor, draped in gold and incoronated with all the jewels of Arda at His side on an obsidian throne. . .
They forgot even the pain as they healed, the Vala’s charred hands flexing under new, tingling feeling, His retinas ever fixing their once silmaril-blinded blur, and the scar across His terrible visage fading into nothing. The Little Flame, unaware, settled himself in his Master’s lap and nuzzled under his chin and planted kisses like magma to where the memory of these wounds were- even the finger long shorn from Mairon’s right hand steadily regrew until he twisted the digit absentmindedly, a ghost of a weight of a ring placed there long ago.
Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.
Centuries passed, and Mairon grew so vibrant and Melkor so intense and their harmony so tuned that the Void became transformed and was now merely the void, tamed and headful. Unto the pair came visions that were not memories, visions of world for none but themselves and the joint offspring of their thoughts, of the creatures once abhorred. And Melkor thought of things for His Precious that held no motive beyond the comfort and safety of His beloved; and Mairon dreamt of things that could soothe his Master, that would give fulfillment and joy. And at last they knew peace.
There was no selfishness held, no malice, nor hatred or contempt- only a deep and unfathomable will to shelter and further reassure the other half, and a burning yearning of Eä, and of creation to share wholly with the other and
not to possess.
For in His arms, Melkor held His own Flame Imperishable and they were in serenity, their melody filling the emptiness until it replied back, until the blanket of black space wrapped around them and responded to their touch, their whispers, their caresses and the slow thrusting of their hips (even now, they relished the joining of Hröa).
Forgetfulness, it seemed, Arda but a treasured, yet ever-fading memory until both spirits wanted nothing more than to stay in this forever entwined, the sleep-like dream, until the opening of the Doors of the Night seemed an infinitely cruel intrusion. And the eons stretched on and on and on until it seemed even Eru forgot them, until Arda itself began to wither and collapse.
None did bother them, and their bliss was sustained and everlasting, their connection inseverable until they curled into themselves and their energy condensed and their voices like all the instruments and all the choirs grew so strong; their energy issuing forth so suddenly from them like a supernova that only Eru could bear to watch, having never forgotten His firstborn Ainur and Maiar. Only He could see that at last the intertwined spirits forgot even the feeling (let alone the desire) of rancor and selfishness, of domination and discord, and from their conjoined bodies birthed a vast and infinite universe even further than the void, expanding with things new and unthought of, beautiful things of love and passion and comfort and charity that were not a twisted mockery of others.
Until the music from their lips was so harmonious, was so naturally evolved and progressed that the two spirits did not even know that their music was now the original music of creation that Eru had sung in the Beginning.
And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in Me.
And it was perceived that Eru smiled.
But still, tight in their embrace, forgetful of all save themselves, bound inextricably, the Flame of Creation and the Shadows of Entropy still sing, and still make love unaware that they birthed the stars of a universe free from Discord. |
11134743 | Dreamcatcher | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Amphigorym",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2003-07-02T00:00:00",
"words": "954",
"Additional Tags": "Series, Alternate Universe",
"Relationship": "Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "Due South Archive",
"Fandoms": null,
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} | Dreamcatcher
Dreamcatcher
by MR
Author's website: http://unhinged.kixxster.org
Disclaimer: Not mine. Given the way I've been treating them recently, that's probably a good thing.
Author's Notes:
Story Notes:
This story is a sequel to: Fourth in the "Slipping Through the Cracks" Series. Takes place immediately after "InnerVision"
Dreamcatcher
By MR
In the end, despite my firm conviction that I would not involve anyone else in the affair, I contacted Quinn.
It wasn't that hard to do really. One of us has to go into town periodically for supplies, and as Ray's fond of saying, he's certainly not the person to be doing it. And much as it shames me to admit it, I've actually begun to look forward to these brief respites from the cabin. Not because I love Ray any less, but because he's starting to frighten me.
I debated about us meeting in town, but in the end I told Quinn to come to the cabin. I detest hiding things from Ray, though I'm positive he's hiding something from me. His near panic when we first came here has, over time, given way to an eerie calm I find more disturbing than his initial hysterics. I sometimes get the feeling he's waiting for something.
I mentioned this to him once and he simply laughed. "And what do you think I'm waiting for, Ben?" The fact that I couldn't tell him seemed to settle the matter, at least in his mind.
"Frase?"
I look at him, framed in the bedroom doorway. If it weren't for the wrap-around mirrored sunglasses, which replaced the bandages several months ago, and the fact that he's thinner now than when we first moved here, I could almost believe nothing's changed. His posture is the same boneless slouch it was in Chicago.
He smiles slightly. "That supper I smell?"
I almost nod, then remember he can't see me. "Caribou stew again, I'm afraid. We're almost out of everything else."
He nods, moving into the room, easily weaving a path between the table and chairs and other furniture, until he's standing on the other side of the counter. "Time to go for more supplies." It's not a question, just a statement of fact.
"Probably tomorrow or the next day." I add some spices to the stew. "Though if worse comes to worse, I suppose we could always send Dief out to catch rabbits."
That makes him laugh softly. "Think you could talk'im into not half-eating them before he brings them home?"
It's these moments of normalcy that scare me the most. As if what happened in Chicago and our nightmare flight to here, the only place Ray feels truly safe, were nothing more but a bad dream.
"Ben." I glance up to find him standing next to me, head titled to one side, and oh God, I wish I could see his eyes again; those beautiful clear blue eyes, instead of the flat starkness of my own reflection distorted back at me.
And before I know it he's got his arms around me, pulling me close, holding me, and as I struggle against threatening tears, one hand begins to stroke my hair. "Shh. It'll be okay, Ben. I promise it'll be okay."
The idea strikes me then that both of us have gone mad. The isolation of the wilderness has finally exacted its toll. It seems such a perfectly reasonable idea.
Unresisting, I allow him to lead me into the bedroom, where he strips me, then himself, and guides us both onto the bed, intent on easing my mind in what is probably the only way he can. Kisses and touching, and in the heat of the moment, the heady rush of this connection between us that even the horror hasn't managed to break, I can almost believe nothing's changed. So sweet, my Ray is, so gentle, and the end comes far too fast for both of us.
Lying sated in the aftermath, my head pillowed on his chest, more than half asleep, I realize he's whispering under his breath.
"It'll be okay, Ben, I promise. I'll take care of you, 'kay? I won't let'em have you. I'll keep you safe. You've just gotta trust me a little longer. I know what to do now, really, and I'll know when they get close, and I won't let them hurt you. Can you do that, Ben? Can you trust me that much?"
I look up at him, wishing I could strip those sunglasses off and look into his eyes. But I know better than to try. "Do you mean that?"
His arms tighten around me. "I mean it, Ben. I'll keep you safe. Just...can you be patient a little longer? There's so much I wanna tell you, but I can't right now. I've gotta concentrate."
I open my mouth to ask him what he's concentrating on, then close it, question unasked. "Ray, the stew..."
"S'okay. I turned it off. You need to sleep, Ben. I know you haven't been sleeping like you should." His hands brush my hair out of my eyes. "Go to sleep, Ben. I'll stand guard."
I'm so tired. So tired, and so very afraid that this will never end; that we're doomed to spend the remainder of our lives isolated in the middle of nowhere. "You'll be my dream catcher?"
He laughs softly. "Yeah, Ben. Your own personal dream catcher."
I nod, snuggling closer, feeling his hands draw the quilt over us, and I fall asleep to the sound of his words, soft and quiet as a summer shower, telling me how much he loves me and how he'll never, ever let me down.
FIN
End Dreamcatcher by MR:Author and story notes above. |
11150892 | The New Girl | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Negan (Walking Dead), Simon (Walking Dead: Saviors), Lauren, Jamie: Darkest Desire, Lana: Mockery",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by AshZombie13",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-09T00:00:00",
"words": "2,654",
"Additional Tags": "Negan - Freeform, Negan fic, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Possessive Negan (Walking Dead), Jealous Negan (Walking Dead), Sexy Negan (Walking Dead), Sweet Negan (Walking Dead)",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Female Character(s), Negan (Walking Dead)/You",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (Comics)",
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"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | It had been a long, lonely month.
I was the last surviving member of my group. I had been alone on the road for a month before I finally ran into another living human. I was almost dragging my body along the country road when a car came towards me. Honestly, I thought it was a dream. I was actually seeing a real car, and there was a person I was about to meet. He was a kind man named Jesus, who offered to take me back to his community called the Hilltop. He claimed it was safe there, and I knew I had no choice but to believe him. Anywhere would be safer than being on this empty road with the dead.The community had welcomed me with open arms, except their leader, Gregory, who was quite rude to me. I’m not sure how he even became a leader; the man lacked all leadership qualities, and he was a coward. He was constantly worried about another group that he claimed would be arriving any day now.
That day had finally come.
Loud trucks roared up the road to the Hilltop gates. Everyone began to panic, especially Gregory, who became shaky. The trucks entered through the gate and parked in front of the big house on the property. A man with a moustache jumped out of one of the trucks and immediately made his way to Gregory.“Simon, we don’t have it.” Gregory visibly shook as he spoke, and I could see the sweat building, even from where I was standing.“What? Huh? Excuse me?! Whoa… I almost thought I heard you say that you don’t have a pick up for us!” Simon laughed, “That would’ve been really bad for you!”Gregory seemed to become more pale as he stood before Simon. I stood off to the side watching it all take place. Suddenly, Simon’s gaze met mine.Simon’s head whipped around, “Well hello there! Who is this pretty lady?”“My name is Lauren.” I stood confidently before him.“Hello Lauren! My name is Simon!” He reached his hand out to touch mine.I shook his hand, and noticed Simon seemed to look over me carefully. A huge grin formed on his face. It made me feel uneasy. He was up to something.“Lauren… How would you like to come live at the Sanctuary?”I studied his face, trying to understand why he wanted me to come with him. I looked over at Gregory to see how nervous he had become. At the moment, Hilltop didn’t seem as safe anymore. I would rather live at this place called the Sanctuary if they were going to be calling the shots around here. I smiled and nodded my head. Simon quickly lead me over to his truck and helped me inside. He went back and exchanged a few words with Gregory before he returned to the truck.It was a few hours of driving until we pulled up to a large factory building. It had a gate surrounding it that was full of dead people. Some might look at that as creepy, but I thought it was incredibly smart.“Home Sweet Home!” Simon grinned as the truck drove through the gates.Simon jumped out of the truck, and I watched as he greeted a man that came out of the front doors. He was tall, with dark hair that was slicked back. He wore a black leather jacket with a red scarf. Over his shoulder hung a bat covered in barbed wire. They both looked towards the truck, and I could see Simon gesture towards me. As they approached, I could hear Simon speaking to this man. The closer they got, the more I realized how insanely attractive this man was. I was able to hear Simon speak to him,“Boss, you’re gonna love what I found at Hilltop.”I watched as the man with Simon looked at me sitting in the passenger seat of the truck. His lips curled up into a grin as he approached the door and opened it for me.“Hi. I’m Negan.” He held out his hand to me.I quickly shook his hand, “I’m Lauren.”Negan kept my hand in his as he gently pulled me from the truck. I stumbled slightly, making Negan chuckle. He was so extremely attractive, and it was making me blush.“Are you the leader here?” I asked Negan.“Fuck yes I am!” Negan held his arms out as if he was showing myself off, “Impressed?” he smirked.I couldn’t help but laugh, yet I was impressed. Negan seemed brave and kind of badass, which was nothing like Gregory, who was timid and a coward.“Follow me.” We began walking through the large entrance doors. “One of the Saviors is going to take you on a tour. Not me though. I don’t do that shit. You’ll be meeting me in my fucking room later to discuss some important shit. Until then, try to make some friends.”This place was impressive. I was instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people living here.“Lauren, I’d like you to meet one of my Saviors, Lana. She will be giving you the whole fucking tour. See you later, Doll!” Negan winked before he walked away.I could instantly tell that Lana was sizing me up. She walked around me like a shark circling its prey.“New girl, huh? Did he ask you yet?” Lana crossed her arms in front of her chest.“Ask me what?” I asked, confused as hell at what she meant.Lana laughed and shook her head, “You’ll find out soon enough.”Lana showed me around the entire factory. I was impressed to see that this place had a rec room and showers. Lana showed me my room, which was small, but all mine.“Don’t get too comfy. I’m sure you won’t end up staying in this room!” Lana laughed.“How’s the food here?” I asked as my stomach growled.“Oh, we haven’t had food in days. We are starving here!” Lana stared at me with a grim expression.I heard my stomach now growl even louder, and I could tell Lana heard it too.“I’m just messing with you!” Lana smirked, “Come on. Let’s go see what the kitchen cooked up today.”Lana led me back to the first floor. We entered the large cafeteria that was already full of people sitting down to eat. Lana led me back to where the kitchen was. The smell of fresh bread hung heavy in the air.“Spaghetti again?!” Lana growled at the staff.Lana grabbed both of our plates and filled them with spaghetti and fresh bread. When she was finished, she shoved my plate in front of me, forcing me to grab it.“I’m sick of spaghetti. The staff always makes it cause it’s Negan’s favorite, but I don’t give a shit!” Lana rolled her eyes, and I followed her out of the kitchen.She scanned the tables as if she was looking for someone. She saw a young man with dark blonde curly hair, sitting alone at a table. She rushed over, and I followed.“Hey, Jamie!” She took a seat at the table.“Hey!” he responded, “This the new girl?”“Yeah. Her name’s Lauren. And before you ask, Negan hasn’t asked her yet.” Lana stuck a fork full of noodles in her mouth.I felt like I was able to talk to them comfortably. I was surprised by how quick I was making friends. Jamie kept his eyes on a table across the room. I glanced over to notice that it was a small group of women wearing short, black dresses and heels. Jamie seemed focused on someone in particular. The women seemed to be arguing as their voices were raising.“Ugh, I hate when they eat down here!” Lana rolled her eyes.Suddenly, one of them stood up from the table. She slammed her tray down, making the other women sitting there jump, and she began walking over to us. She shook her head of blonde hair, and was breathing heavily. She sat down next to Jamie, and glared back at the table she had come from.“I hate them. Every fucking one of them!” she growled.“You okay, Ash?” Jamie looked at her concerned.“No. I am so pissed off!” she growled again.“What’s wrong, Ashley? Trouble with the other wives? Not enough Negan to go around?” Lana smirked.“All they do is sit around all day and complain! I am tired of it!” Ashley huffed.“Sweetheart, you are sitting on your ass all day too, and here you are complaining!” Lana chuckled.“No, I’m not like them. I’d rather work than be lazy. Negan won’t let me work.”“Well you have the option to work instead of being a wife,” Jamie reminded her.“Working means no Negan, and you know I want Negan.” Ashley smirked back at Jamie.“Excuse me, but did you say wives?” I had to interrupt this conversation. There was no way this could be true. “Yeah. All the women at that table are wives, including me.” Ashley responded, looking at me confused.I could feel my jaw instantly drop. Negan had multiple wives.“She’s new,” Jamie interjected.“Ohhh,” Ashley began looking at me up and down. Why was everyone sizing me up?“He hasn’t asked her yet,” Lana added.“I’m sure he will tonight.” Ashley smirked.“Ask me what!” I was so lost in this conversation.“You’ll see soon enough.” Lana said.“Just say yes. You won’t regret it!” Ashley smiled and hummed a little, as if she was thinking of something that pleased her.“Are you guys suggesting that Negan is going to ask me to become a wife?” I felt so dumb asking.Jamie sighed, “You’re supposed to meet with him later, right?” I nodded at Jamie, “Then he is going to ask you. If he wasn’t going to give you the option, than you would’ve already been assigned a job.”There was no way they were right. Negan couldn’t want me. I felt like I couldn’t compare to his other wives. Plus I had just met him.Simon entered the cafeteria and grinned as he locked his eyes with mine. He began making his way over to our table.“Hey guys, do you think if I flirt with Simon that will make Negan jealous? But you know, since it’s Simon, that means Negan won’t try to kill him?” Ashley grinned mischievously.“Damn. You must really want to get punished, huh?” Lana smirked. “Negan will definitely get jealous. And he will definitely punish you twice as much, since he can’t kill his right hand man.”“I’ll definitely be jealous,” Jamie whispered as Simon stopped in front of the table.“Hello pretty ladies… and fella.” He pointed at Jamie, and I swore I could hear him let out a shaky breath.“Negan wants you in his room now.” Simon looked down at me.This was the moment they were talking about. Negan was apparently going to ask me to become a wife, even though I just met him a few hours ago. How could I say yes?“Come on. He hates waiting. I’ll walk you.” Simon gestured for me to move. I quickly got up, and so did Ashley.“I’ll come with you guys!” she giggled.The entire walk to Negan’s room, Ashley was flirting with Simon, making sure everyone we passed knew she was doing it. She was definitely going to get Negan’s attention. It made me wonder, should I say yes? Should I also want his attention as badly?We stopped in front of a large set of double doors, and Simon knocked three times. Ashley leaned up against the wall and waited patiently for Simon to finish his task. I could hear Negan through the door. “Come in,” he commanded. Simon opened the door, and I followed him inside. I expected him to stay, but he quickly left the room.
Leaving me alone with Negan.
“Enjoy your stay so far?” Negan leaned back against the couch he was sitting on.“Yes, actually I am. Already made some friends!” I smiled nervously at him as I sat on the other couch.“Oh really? Who?” Negan tilted his head at me.“Lana, Jamie, and Ashley.”“Ah, already met one of my wives!” Negan chuckled.I kind of wanted the attention off me. I saw an opportunity to distract him.“Oh, she is a wife of yours? I thought she was with Simon?!” I pretended to act confused.“What the fuck would give you that idea?” He gritted his teeth.“She just seemed really close to him. Uh, giggling a lot and uh, touching him.” I gulped, starting to feel nervous.Negan took a deep, hard breath, and looked straight at me. I felt the heavy tension in the air.“I’m gonna have to fucking deal with that right now, so we gotta get straight to the fucking point.” Negan leaned forward in his seat.“I’m gonna give you two fucking options, doll. You can either work for me and earn points, or you can become one of my wives. That means you don’t work. You only fuck when I want you.”
My jaw dropped. He actually asked me.
At first, I didn’t know what to do or say. “Can I think about it?” I asked hesitantly.“Take your time, doll,” Negan smiled and winked at me.He got up and walked to his door, gesturing me to follow him.“Go do some exploring, but make sure you’re in your room once curfew starts in two hours.”I watched as Negan disappeared down the hall, on his way to punish his wife that was begging for it. I decided to go find Jamie and Lana. Maybe they could show me around some more before I turned in for the night.I was tossing and turning. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this, but I couldn’t deny what I was feeling. I wanted Negan. Sure I hated that I was going to have to share him with a group of wives, but there was no other way to have Negan. Plus, I wouldn’t have to work.I ripped my blanket off. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight. My mind only thought of Negan, and it was ridiculous. I had just met this man today, and he already had me wrapped around his finger.
To hell with it.
It was the middle of the night, but I was determined. I walked out of my room and began heading in the direction of Negan’s. My bare feet felt the cold ground as I walked through the empty halls. I knew it was after curfew, but I didn’t care. Negan could punish me for it.After getting lost just a handful of times, I found the hall that lead to Negan’s room. I felt my heart rapidly beat, and began to run to the end of the hall. I raised my hand to the door and lightly knocked three times, just as Simon did earlier. After giving him a few seconds, I realized he didn’t hear me. I knocked again, this time pounding my fist against the wood.I suddenly heard Negan shouting a slew of curse words on the other side of the door. I felt nervous as loud feet came stomping to the door. Maybe I had made a mistake?The door flew open, and Negan stood before me wearing only his boxers. I couldn’t stop myself from licking my lips, and he noticed. I heard him chuckle darkly, and I looked up to meet his gaze.“Damn, doll. You made up your mind fucking quick!” Negan chuckled again, “Come in here and show me what you got!”He grinned and opened his door wide, inviting me inside.
I was ready to become his. |
11165892 | Behind The Veil | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Sirius Black, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Severus Snape",
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"author": "by TheFandomIdjit",
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} | The fall seemed to take hours and when it was over Sirius was forced to blink a lot for now that he seemed to have stopped falling he appeared to be outside. In front of him was a wall with an archway around it. Sirius felt fairly sure this was the veil he had fallen into after being hit by Bellatrix’s wand. Damn that bitch she had caught him by surprise with a spell that only made him fly across the room and into the veil never knowing there was another side to it.He dusted himself off and was about to try rushing the wall when a familiar voice shouted at him from behind.“Sirius? But how are you still alive? I mean everyone swore up and down that you had died of the dragon pox ages ago?” Confused Sirius looked the man in the face feeling a heart full of joy “James?” “Of course old friend, we've all missed you dearly since that dreadful night at Saint Mongo’s.”Sirius was completely baffled as to how James could be alive or why he was thought to be dead of Dragon Pox.Sirius glanced back at the wall and something clicked he reasoned that somehow the veil had brought him to alternate dimension or reality and that things in this dimension were slightly different.“James, You’re probably going to think I'm crazy but Im not the same Sirius Black you know..you see I fell through that wall there into this world. Where I come from you are the one that has been gone for ages murdered by an evil wizard while protecting your family only your son Harry survived the attack in that world. I an sworn to protect that child with my life and must get back to my own reality back to Harry!” Sirius told James his heart bending horribly.His mind wanted to stay and enjoy the new life of comfort with his now living friend but his heart was with his Godson who he believed needed him back to protect him.James didn't even look like he believed Sirius to be crazy instead it was screwed up with a serious expression that he had seen James wear all too often in his own world.“Actually Sirius that makes a whole more sense as to how you're alive, how about you come to my place for dinner and we’ll talk about how we can send you back maybe even a trip to visit Albus is in order, Besides I'm sure the gang would be real happy to see you alive again.” James suggested kindly.Sirius hesitated almost afraid if he spent too much time with James here that it would be harder for him to want to go home. How could he say no to being with his old friends again?But in the end he had to admit defeat as he had no idea how to get home on his own and Albus would possibly be a good idea to consult about the veil.Sirius was half reluctant but truth be told he was a bit excited to have at least a bit of extra time with them before having to return home to a reality where James only existed in his son. |
11153454 | You cant Deny Youre | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Poe Dameron, Finn (Star Wars), Armitage Hux, Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, Rey (Star Wars)",
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} | For Tassia...
Chapter one.It wasn’t as if she was the most prepared for a job like this. September first had rolled around a lot quicker than she had anticipated. Rey had picked up and left Los Angelos faster than the Road Runner. She had left behind her sunshine, so she had dressed appropriately. It wasn’t common for a new teacher to be liked, let alone welcomed. It was partially the reason that she had arrived at five thirty that morning to start putting her classroom in order. The janitorial staff thought she was a lunatic.
It was that early that her conquest to spruce up her classroom had begun. Multiple trips were taken back and forth from her car to the room. In less than an hour, the room had been transformed into an oasis of learning. Plants rested on the windowsills as brightly colored lanterns littered the ceiling. The walls were covered with inspirational words and posters about positivity. The whiteboards had been cleaned and organized and the children’s names were laminated and stuck unto their desks and their cubbies.
The last thing that needed to be taken care of was the large banner that was to hang over the whiteboard. Rey had gotten a step stool and everything but couldn’t reach the other pin that was up there. As she attempted once more to reach high to pin it, the cloth fell on her head and a deep, rich laugh could be heard from the doorway. Her body turned towards the sound and the banner pulled from her head. There was a man, about twice her size was leaning against the doorway. He was dressed in dark colors from head to toe and he radiated an attitude and a cocky sense of style. He had dark hair, and his smile was toothy but warm. He was most definitely making fun of her. Her cheeks turned a dark crimson as he continued to laugh. It was nearly seven thirty, she would have this banner up before they arrived. Rey had been sure of that.
“You know.. I think you are just a little too short to reach that hook…” He chuckled a little, his tall form making his way into her room as she scowled. “No, Really?” her voice filled with sarcasm. His smile persisted, there to mock and tease her, “Well, let me…” He said as Rey gave up and stepped down from the stool in her little red heels. The unknown man stepped up unto the stool and took the banner in his hand before hanging it perfectly above the chalk board. "I could have gotten it myself… But thank you… really, Mr?” She shook her head. Before she could ask what his name was he took her hand, shaking it gently, “Solo. Ben Solo. I teach third and fourth grade across the hall..” He smiled again, “Forgive me but I had been watching you struggle with that banner for half an hour and I just- I couldn’t let you continue in good faith.” He smiled, chuckling before clapping his hands together lightly, “And you are? I can’t help you put up your banner without knowing your name…” He smirked, “Let me guess, your name is…. Ms. Sunshine?”
His comment was clearly referring to the yellow dress she was wearing and the bright nature of her persona and of her room. Rey shook her head, hiding her smile as she crossed her arms. “Actually, It’s Kenobi… Ms. Kenobi to you, Mr. Solo.” She raised her eyebrow at him. Her students were starting to filter into her room slowly but surely as the clock ticked closer to eight. “I suppose I’ll see you around.” She said, nodding gently a smirk on her lips. “Yes, you will…” He nodded leaving her classroom rather quickly as the school day began.
----------------------------------------------------------------
It wasn’t until later at the staff meeting did they get reacquainted. It appeared that the two of them sitting next to each other was by chance. The rest of the staff was ancient and most certainly already wanting to be done with yet another year. That part was frustrating to Rey. She was excited about her job, and it was hard for her to understand why everyone else wasn’t. The whole meeting she tried to pay attention, but honestly, she couldn’t help but get irritated at the fact that most of the teachers were dismissing the thought of educating the children in a fun way. When the meeting was over, Ben being the gentleman he was walked her back to her classroom, all the while discussing the age and lack of motivation of most of the other teachers.
Ben dropped her off at her room, biting his lip, “I will say this, I’m glad to have someone who isn’t a hundred years old and who actually wants to do their job.. It’s been this way for a few years, trust me, nothing will change them. They’re all ready to retire, but there just- isn’t enough people to fill all the positions….I can be your friend here if you let me..” He ran his hand through his hair before nodding to her, “It was… Nice to meet you Rey.” His deep voiced echoed through her head as he walked back to his room and then out the door. She really didn’t think that much of it. She returned to her hotel, ready to brave the next day of her new job. Little did she know she was burning in his mind.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The rest of the week had gone rather smoothly. Rey had been slowly adjusting to her life as a first grade teacher at William Elementary. A rhythm had been established. She had lunch at the same time as two other elementary teachers. Poe Dameron and Finn Parker. They were both kind to her and always complimented her personal style of brightly colored outfits and interesting hair choices. Ben Solo on the other hand had become somewhat of an acquaintance. He was polite, but he was not what she would call a good friend. In fact, he was far from that. He was truly beyond irritating sometimes. He constantly would make comments about her obsession with the color yellow and her decision to teach her students positivity. He was negative in almost every way. Between his dark clothes and the way he taught his students. Ben had sat in on one of her classes when he had a free period and once she was done, he let her know all the things she was doing wrong. Including teaching her students that everything could be solved with a little positivity. He had been most against that. It had escalated to where one of his own students had verbally attacked one of her first graders. Peter Letts came crying to her about an hour after lunch. He was saying that someone from Mr. Solo’s class had told him that everything he had learned from Ms. Kenobi was a lie. Rey was beyond furious. Right before last period Rey took her ruby colored shoes and her bright blue dress and marched her way down to his classroom, anger with each click of her heels. Anger was deliberate on her face as she entered his classroom. His feet were up on his desk and he was munching on the leftover bits of his lunch. His smirk grew as she closed in on him. “Oh sunshine, I knew you’d come around. Finally seeing that life isn’t all rainbows and lollipops.” He chuckled plopping a chip into his mouth. Rey was fuming, anger boiling up inside of her, “One of your students bullied one of mine, and frankly I think it’s quite inappropriate the outlook you are giving your students.” She said, huffing as she crossed her arms, her brows drawn together in frustration. Ben just continued to smile and smirk at her as she continued her rant at him. “Go on a date with me.” He blurted out, smirking, his eyes alight. Rey thought she misheard him, not really realizing what he was saying as she continued on with her sentences about how awful he was. “WHAT?!” she shook her head, her brain finally adjusting to the situation at hand, “No- I’m not going to go on a date with you.. You are rude, thoughtless and beyond frustrating.” She huffed at him as a deep laugh radiated from within his body. “This Saturday. I’ll makeup for whatever you’re mad about.. “ He smirked, still picking at his lunch. “You can’t- and besides, I’m moving into my apartment Saturday- I am NOT going to go on a date with you. I don’t want to and I don’t have to..” Ben chuckled, “I never said you had to go on a date with me, I was just asking out out on one. I figured it would be nice. I could...get to know you a little bit better and we could discuss what has made you so obviously upset before you hate me. And- I could help you move..” His offer was beyond tempting to her. No one had offered and she would be doing this all by herself. “No- I can’t… I will be busy..” She shook her head. He had single handedly diverted her attention and shifted her focus from the wrong his student had committed to the idea of going on a date with him. His smile grew and he chuckled as she crossed her arms and left his room. “See you saturday, Sunshine!” he called after her, smirking. She was infuriated and it bothered her beyond measure that he would even try such a thing. She wasn’t interested in dating, and not him of all people. Rey finished her last period class before grabbing her yellow coat and slipping it on. When she turned around, Ben Solo was standing in her doorway, smirking. “You look stressed, Sunshine…” He hummed, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes flicked over her slender frame, his smile growing when he saw the little bees that graced her yellow dress. “Listen, I put my number in your bag.. Call me if you need anything… I mean it.” His eyes showed true sincerity as he nodded his head and walked out towards the parking lot, towards his car. Rey rubbed her forehead, sighing before she too grabbed her bag and headed out towards her little yellow gremlin. Rey drove to her hotel, laying on her bed before passing out, exhausted. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next morning was filled headaches and a bunch of regrets. Rey went for a run before officially moving into her apartment. Everything was in it, her plants, her bed all of her dishes. Everything, all except her bright yellow couch. God, she should have parted with the couch when she left Los Angeles, but she had spent a fortune on it, and she refused to leave it behind with someone who was less than deserving of the couch and of her. It was when she realized that her couch had been delivered but had not been moved to the top of her apartment that she was in trouble. She tried as hard as she could, pushing and pulling, but the couch wouldn’t budge. It was two hours later. She relented and her fingers dialed the number. In about an hour, the tall strong form of none other than Ben Solo was approaching her apartment. When he arrived he laughed, tsking gently. “Should have called sooner sunshine. I would have been here sooner.” Rey scowled, shaking her head, “Can you just… help me push the couch up the stairs?” Ben chuckled, “On one condition… You go on a date with me. Today, four hours tops.” Rey groaned loudly, biting her lip. “Fine…” The next hour was spent pushing and pulling that damned yellow couch to the top of the stairs and into the quaint little living room that was decorated in a typical manner for her. Ben couldn’t help but keep a smirk plastered on his face. When it was in place, he waited patiently for her to get ready. Rey exited her bedroom wearing some black slacks and yellow heels with a white shirt and black jacket. She grabbed her little yellow purse before following him out begrudgingly to his car. Black of course, she thought just like his soul, she supposed. They both got in, Ben chuckled, “You know, I’m not as mean as you think I am, I just don’t believe in happy endings and the pink unicorn crap you tell your first graders.” He shrugged as they pulled into a movie theater. “You know, I happen to have reasons for teaching positivity..” She said as they exited his car and waited in line to get tickets. Before he could ask more questions, One of Ben’s students approached them. “Mr. Solo, Ms. Kenobi?” He asked, smiling, “Are you two on a date?” Rey’s cheeks turned a dark red and Ben was quick to smirk and assure the little boy’s suspicions. “Yes Billy, but you have to promise you won’t say anything, okay? Now go along. Go enjoy your movie.” Ben winked at the boy before he left and they bought their tickets. Once the movie was over, he drove her back to her apartment. “I like you…” He said as they parked. “Despite what you think, sunshine, I really do like you, and if you’d let me, I’d gladly get to know you better. If that’s okay with you?” Rey blinked at him, biting her lip, “Okay…” She chuckled, smiling a little bit, “You got me… But I’d rather not be caught engaging in a romantic affair with my coworkers… i’ve been down that road before, and… it’s not exactly ideal…” he nodded as she spoke. “That’s fine.. We can keep it on the down low, and if you change your mind at any time, no hurt feelings…” Rey smiled, “I’ll see you monday…” her voice was soft, unsure, “See you monday…” |
11103300 | Please Go Slowly | {
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"Characters": "Fenris (Dragon Age), Lyra Hawke, Female Hawke, Hawke, Mage Hawke",
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} | It was nearing midnight. Lyra and Fenris were lying on Lyra’s bed, doing what they did best out of all things, aside from fighting, stealing, complaining, and making stupid jokes. This was nowhere near their first time - since reuniting, they'd been sleeping together at least once every few days.Tonight, Lyra stilled Fenris’s hand. “Wait,” she breathed, stroking her thumb down his palm. “Is everything alright?” Fenris asked, loosening his grip on her slightly. There was already a satisfyingly tight feeling in the centre of his breeches, but he wasn’t going to press it if Lyra wasn’t willing tonight. But contrary to what he had expected, she smiled gently and cupped his cheek with one hand. “Everything is fine, Fenris. I just thought of something.”“Mmm?”Fenris’s shirt was hanging half-open, and now Lyra trailed her fingertips softly down the front of his chest. The resulting shivers through his body demanded that he grab Lyra and resume kissing her right away, but Fenris was a model of self-control, and so, did not. “What are you doing?” he said, self-control not extending far enough to keep him from asking.“I was just thinking,” Lyra murmured. “Every time we have sex, it’s like this. It’s sort of desperate, isn’t it?” She laughed, a sweet little tinkling thing, accompanied by a twinkle of her eyes which let Fenris know that she didn’t regret a single one of those times, desperate or not. “But I’m not going anywhere. So I want to treat you, tonight.”What does that mean? Fenris wondered. It had never before occurred to him that there was another way to have sex apart from passionately. He usually just acted on instinct, trying to touch every part of Lyra he could reach, kissing her fiercely so that the both of them could barely breathe. He did not think this was such a bad arrangement. But apparently, Lyra did.Just more reminders that he was very, very new to this. To sex as well as to love. “Well, if you’ll wait, then you’ll see,” Lyra said teasingly, blue eyes drawing him in like magnets at the bottom of a very deep pool. Suddenly he was filled with a restless, nervous anticipation, though for what, he did not know. “Stop me if you don’t like it,” Lyra said, and placed her hand gently on Fenris’s neck, at the joint with his shoulder. Involuntarily, Fenris swallowed, and Lyra gently stroked down the side of his neck, stopping when she reached his collarbone. There, she began to run her thumb along it, while her other hand reached up and did the same on the other side. Without speaking, Lyra began to trace the exposed skin between Fenris’s tattoos, fingers gliding over the small hills and valleys at the base of his ribs, following the lines of hard muscles, rubbing in little circles in the most frustrating, tantalising, yet tender way. Fenris had never experienced any touch like that before in his life. It seemed to gentle to possibly be real. There was some kind of emotion twisting in his gut, something he didn’t recognise but which seemed very urgent. The strength of it made him feel panicky, like he had to run away. “Stop,” he managed to choke out. For a moment he was irrationally afraid that Lyra wouldn’t listen. But of course, her hands instantly stilled. “No?” she said, brow wrinkled in concern as she tried to read his face. Rolling over, Fenris sat up, hooking his legs over the edge of the bed and resting his face in his hands. “What’s wrong? Was it bad?” Lyra asked, sounding confused. Fenris was confused too. Nothing about that had been bad - or - or wrong. It had been good. It had all been good. It had felt so... intimate. Struggling with himself, Fenris managed to find that word. Well, no wonder he felt so strange now. Somewhere inside of him lived a timid, frightened creature, who knew that nothing so good in this world could ever belong to it for long. That it deserved nothing, and especially not this.But now that he had felt it once, Fenris wanted so badly to feel it again. Love, radiating directly from Lyra’s fingertips, and onto his bare and mostly virginal skin. What would it be like if she put those sweet and gentle hands onto his stomach, his sides, his back, his arms, his legs, his hips, his thighs? What would happen if she put them there and then there and then he - I can’t do this, Fenris thought, and turned to Lyra to tell her so. But the expression on her face stopped him dead in his tracks. Love. Concern. Lyra wants this. He took a deep breath.“Let me try... on you,” Fenris said. Slowly he would learn. It would have to be enough for now. |
11162292 | I Your Loved Ones Watch | {
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} | Jordis crouched low on her left, wincing when her armor inevitably creaked and shifted with her body. The shadows cast down the mountain left them cloaked in relative darkness for the moment, but the sunlight that left the shore line glittering so beautifully with snow, salt, and ice would only illuminate them for the Thalmor guards in the keep. Aneira almost wished for the Elven armor that she'd given to Malborn instead of her wolf armor, because at least then she might be able to get close enough to start using her magic before anyone realized she wasn't actually an Altmer.Alas, that armor was safely or soon to be safely secured away somewhere in the Thalmor Embassy, awaiting her break-in that hopefully wouldn't involve too much breaking. And she refused to wait that long to bring Eorlund and Fralia word of their son."There may be another entrance around the other side, my Th-" Jordis cut off her whisper, the sound barely carrying in the silence. "But we cannot get there without the guards along the wall spotting us."Aneira chose not to bother thanking Jordis for dropping the formal address at that moment. It could wait until later. "I agree. My main concern is that we will be spotted no matter where we come from." She flicked her gaze along the top of the mountains, noting the dark peaks that would only obscure the sun for so much longer. "We've missed our chance to take them by surprise already.""We could still begin with our bows," her housecarl whispered carefully. "Between us we could take out at least three of the guards along the battlements.""I don't think we're going to even get close enough for that without them seeing us." Aneira slid her focus along the grey stone of the keep's walls. "There are two facing this direction, and there will be more along every stairwell and the other walls. There aren't enough trees or rocks for us to hide behind to get in range." As if to emphasize her point, a Thalmor along the wall shifted or turned around so that the sharp glint of their armor flashed toward them."Well, what do you suggest? Do you want to go back to the cave and wait until nightfall?"Aneira scoffed, running her hand across the stones in annoyance. "I'm not dragging us back to sit along the shoreline for another day. We're going now, but…" Aneira trailed off, her lips twitching as she glanced over at her recently acquired friend."What?" Jordis asked, tone appropriately wary and no longer fearing reprimand for challenging her Thane's decisions. It hadn't taken long to knock that out of her, but still. It was gratifying."You aren't going to like it," Aneira grinned a little lopsidedly at her, returning her enchanted Nordic bow to her back.Jordis gave a huff of laughter. "You know, this journey along the coast has been full of plans like that. But then we're charging into some terrible situation and your plans get us out alive. So," the blonde gestured carelessly toward the fortress, "lead on.""Now I suggest you turn around and go back the way you came."Aneira brought her hands behind her back, clasping them together once before returning them to her sides. Hopefully Jordis was positioned somewhere that she could see the signal.The guard looked irritated, but Aneira knew enough about the world to know that the Thalmor weren't all fools. The imperious mer wouldn't take his eyes off her, and he wouldn't just assume that she would walk away with nothing after she'd apparently made the trek out to the border of Skyrim.He was right, in that respect. Aneira would not leave this place without Thorald. Or, if the worst came to be true, without giving his poor mother and father what little closure she could."This doesn't concern the Imperial Legion, or General Tullius. The only person you should be concerned with right now is me.""You are attempting to interfere with Aldmeri business. Now leave!" Aneira leaned into position. "Or be dealt with swiftly!"He made a strange hiccupping noise, hand half raised in the attack motion of mages as Aneira jerked Bloodthorn back out of his throat as smoothly as she could. It hadn't gone through at the greatest angle, the Altmer's curving gold helmet forcing her to shove it through the center of his neck and up into his head. The Altmer flailed for a moment as his left hand changed from the purple shade of some conjuration spell to a familiar golden glow. The light faded away again so quickly that the mer never got the spell off, blood pushing through his mouth to stain the material and armor beneath his chin.Aneira darted back, listening for the alarm of any of the other elves. The kill had been quiet enough, but the guards along the wall had surely been on alert ever since she approached the fort.Sure enough, another golden clad head appeared over the ramparts a few moments later, leaning over to get a look at Aneira's recent mess."Foolish human! Your time is-" Aneira's lightning bolt caught his helmet, sending the purple strings of power through the mer's body. The soldier didn't even have time to shake it off before an arrow landed in his shoulder, sending him out of sight with a metallic clang!The shouts of the other guards rose up from within the walls, followed swiftly by the sounds of stomping feet. Aneira darted backward past the meager blockade, hoping it could at least help to keep them all confined for a moment while she did her best to hinder them. She drew her bow quickly from her back, notching one of the old Nordic arrows. The first elf that appeared from the left received a blow to her breastplate, piercing her below her right breast.Jordis launched another arrow into the mass of burnished gold, catch one of the mer at the crease of her thigh. The Altmer stumbled, falling to one knee and catching a few of her comrades in the process. The other Thalmor didn't pay her much heed, swiftly moving around and past her until they were almost past the barricade."Iiz!"The first three guards toppled like trees, their limbs frozen comically in front of them. The next three slowed in the face of the ice, moving more stiffly until they were stepping over their comrades. Aneira managed to put another arrow in one, and Jordis another, before they were upon her. It was fortunate that none were the wizards, or there'd have been more magic involved beyond conjured swords.As it was, she hooked her bow around her back as quickly as she could and readied the frost in her hands. It was a simple matter of aiming correctly from there.An ice spike struck the closest in the chest, penetrating the armor enough that the shiny yellow was quickly stained with red. Jordis thankfully put on arrow in another soldier before he could get too close, delaying him long enough for Aneira to use another spike on him."Pathetic human!" The last standing Thalmor bellowed, arm raised high to bring the sword down on her. She cupped her hands together and sent a wave of frost directly into his face, making her foe falter long enough to force Bloodthorn through the weaker armor beneath his arm.The ice shattered and fell away from the three Thalmor still affected by her shout, and Aneira rolled her shoulders to loosen the muscles before bringing her magicka up once more.Thorald was going home to his family. She would make damn sure of that."I never thought I'd see another friendly face." The man took a deep breath, legs twitching beneath him. "We need to get to safety as soon as possible. Let's move."His strong words were belied almost immediately when the large Nord pitched to the side as the first handcuff came free, swinging helplessly by the wrist that was still secured. Aneira hurried to undo the other lock, calling anxiously to Jordis to see if she found any potions or garments. Thorald's wrists were bruised and bleeding, flakes and fresh blood coating the inside of the restraints.The rest of him wasn't much better. His legs didn't support him, lying bent at the ankle, but still looked thick enough to work once they got him free. The cuts and burns along his torso would be healed well enough if they were as fresh as they looked. If they didn't find some stamina potions, he wasn't going to make it very far with them, and they had a long journey still ahead. If they lingered anywhere along the coast to let themselves rest, their own exhaustion could mean their demise if more Thalmor arrived at the Keep."I'm sorry, there's only this one stamina and magicka potions. I can't find anything else in here." Jordis set out the potions on the torturer's table, hastily sweeping aside the disgusting and rust colored daggers. "There was plenty of food back through the keep, though. I'll double back and pick up as much of that that we can carry. The mead will bolster him enough to get us out of here." The housecarl reached out to help Aneira ease the large man to the ground as the cuff finally clicked open, caked as it had been with blood. "There's got to be more clothes left in other rooms. I'll see what I can find for him." The blonde looked pointedly at his bare feet. "He needs shoes at the very least."Aneira nodded, positioning the man against the wall to heal him as quickly and thoroughly as possible. "Go, find what you can." She looked at Thorald as her left hand moved from his head to his neck. "You're going to have to eat something before we leave, even if it's just a bit of bread or soup. The provisions we have stored down the coast are still a good distance away." Aneira put both hands on his chest, trying to force the burned skin away with heavy doses of high level restoration. She panted a little, feeling her magicka reserves depleting quickly from the constant use."Whatever you say," Thorald replied dully, breathing heavily but shakily from where he was propped. "Just get us out of here before more of them come back." The large man's voice trembled the slightest bit on the last word."We will," Aneira stated firmly, reaching over to quickly gulp down the magicka potion and continue healing him.When the last of his wounds had sealed shut and his internal injuries could no longer be felt, she brought him up gingerly to sit in one of the chairs. "Rest here until Jordis gets back. She'll have something for you." Aneira reached over, pressing the lip of the stamina potion against his. "Have a few sips. Let's see if we can give you some strength back."Thorald did as he was bid, and soon enough was sitting up straight against the chair. "Divines, usually they just throw me a healing potion and shove wet bread into my mouth. I feel like a newborn colt.""Have you lost a lot of blood?" Aneira asked, popping the cork back into the bottle."Ah, not as much as it looks like, I don't think." His mouth twitched as he glanced behind himself. "They mostly stuck to the irons and prods. Didn't break the skin too often.""I hate to say it, but that's a good thing." She frowned apologetically at his depressed grimace. "If you didn't lose too much blood, we have one less thing to worry about while we move along the coast.""You keep mentioning the coast, but," Thorald trailed off, working his throat to clear it. Aneira quickly moved away to her pack, pulling out a bottle of water to give him. Gulping it down quickly, Thorald wiped a hand across his mouth. "I don't know where we are. They grabbed me outside Whiterun while I was heading out to," he paused again, "to get something for my mother, I think." His hair swayed across his face in silvery wisps as he shook his head. "They put a dart in my neck, and I couldn't move. One of those paralyzing poisons, the bastards." Thorald's face grew stormy. "Snatching people in our holds. What has this country come to?" He glared over her shoulder, no doubt eyeing the embalming tools on the table near the entryway. "Did the Jarl even send anyone out for me? Are you from Balgruuf? Or did everyone just say I went missing?"Aneira bit her lip. "It seemed," she began haltingly, "that your mother and family always knew the truth. Your mother gave quite the tongue lashing to the Battle-Borns in the market. To be honest, I never spoke to the Jarl about it."Thorald let his head fall backwards with a derisive laugh. "The Battle-Borns. Sons of bitches probably turned me over to the damn Thalmor themselves. Earned a few more pieces of gold." His face grew hard, and he brought his fist down weakly against the wood table. "Their hands ought to run red with their kinsman's blood, and all they do is run off to fawn over the gods damned elves!"Moving to pick up a mostly clean rag from a different table, Aneira covered it in some of the water. She rubbed it across the prisoner's face, clearing away at least a layer of the dirt and blood. He hummed gratefully, tilting his head to allow her access to his neck. Aneira took a quiet breath before speaking lowly."We're at Northwatch Keep. It's an older fortress along the coast. Just about as far along the coast as you could go before Skyrim ends." She rewet the cloth, moving down to the scarlets bracelets around his wrists. "We didn't see any Thalmor patrolling along the coast on the way here, but that may not mean much.""Gods above, I didn't realize we were so close to the border." A shudder ran through him. "Perhaps I should be grateful they didn't drop me on a damn ship." He took his cleaned hand and brought it to his knotted and mangled hair. Thorald swallowed, looking at her again. "But why would you risk your life for me, a stranger? You haven't said who you are."Aneira gave him a soft smile. "You family was concerned for you."Snorting, Thorald shook his head. "Of course. I should have known. This was all Avulstein's idea, wasn't it? Where is he?""I told him to wait in Whiterun. It didn't seem right to risk his life as well, when your mother," Aneira paused, hesitating, before she continued. "I didn't want to risk both of her sons, when the thought of losing you has left her so desperate." She glanced back toward the entryway, hoping Jordis would bring back new clothes soon.Thorald's expression turned to grief. "Aye, I can't imagine how hard this must've been on her. And at her age…" Thorald wiped a tired and across his eyes."She's the one who begged me to find you, if I could. Your father told her about me, I guess."Now Thorald frowned again. "How does my father know you? Are you a Companion?""I am," Aneira said a little proudly, knocking a fist against the grey armor. "Your father outfitted this for me not so long ago." She didn't need to mention that the smith had probably told Fralia about her because she was the Dragonborn. Being a Companion was more than honorable enough.Thorald's eyes dropped to the wolf's face roaring out at him. "Oh, aye, of course. I should have recognized that." He raised her eyes back to hers. "How much did they have to pay for a Companion to be sent? Rescue missions don't come cheap.""Nothing at all," Aneira replied, setting down the cloth and bringing up the stamina potion again. "I owe your father a great deal for this armor, and for allowing me to use his forge."Thorald narrowed his eyes at her. "You're a Companion that smiths?""I am," She answered, tipping the potion up a second time for him to swallow. "And I couldn't let your parents linger in misery as they have been."His mouth worked a little, eyes tracking her face slowly. After a moment he nodded, lowering his gaze to the floor."And you should know," she began hesitantly, kneeling in front of him to start peeling away the worn and filthy trousers from his ankles, "that Idolaf was the reason I was able to find you."She had managed to roll his left pant leg up to his knee and begin washing his calf by the time he gruffly spoke."How?""I basically hounded him until he told me the truth. After you went missing, he still cared enough to make inquiries through his connections with the Legion." The second leg now. "He had a letter stating where you were, and to stop looking into it. Cruel as it may have been," she paused again, "he didn't think you could be saved. He'd rather your family think that you were simply dead than… here.""Hmph." Thorald made a noise halfway between disgust and grief. "More like he was too much of a damn coward to admit his precious Empire was letting the Thalmor run off with innocent Nords.""Maybe," Aneira replied, turning as she heard footsteps approaching. "But he did search until he knew the truth."Thorald didn't say anything to that, looking at Jordis and grimacing when it turned out all she could find were some fine clothes and thin boots."None of these elves have feet large enough to fit you," the housecarl murmured apologetically, handing him the clothes. "But I found plenty of mead and food for you."Reaching out to take the bits of bread and bits of salmon, the snowy haired man thanked her housecarl fervently. Aneira eyed him carefully as she catalogued what Jordis had found, lips pressed together in thought."They'll go looking for me, and Whiterun will be the first place they search.Almost a full day's walk, ducking and dodging anyone coming along the coast, darting into pathetic caves and nearly alerting an entire fortress of bandits and scum that there were travelers about, and the man was still sticking to the same path."I cannot thank you enough for rescuing me from that place. I suspect I'd never see the light of day otherwise."Aneira stiffly bit the inside of her lip, fighting more so than usual to remain calm and try to convince the stubborn man not to do this."But I cannot stay. Not here, not in Whiterun. It likely won't be safe for Avulstein, either." Thorald waved his recently acquired iron mace, testing the balance of it in his hand despite having used it on a handful of bandits along the coastline earlier. "Our best hope now is to fall in with the ranks of the Stormcloaks."Aneira sighed heavily, resolving herself to make her argument again."But would you do me a favor? Tell my mother to suffer the winter's cold wind, for it bears aloft next summer's seeds." Thorald gave Aneira a small smile over the fire. "She'll know what it means."Aneira ran her left hand through her hair, sighing quietly. "I truly wish you would reconsider this," she began carefully. The last thing she needed was to upset the man again. He'd only been free from captivity for about three fourths of a day. "You should give her that message yourself. It's been far too long since they could see you in person." She tried hard not to raise her voice at him, at a man left hanging by his wrists in agony for who knows how long. Her father would be reprimanding her very sharply if she did that now. "Your mother was nearly out of her mind with worry about you. Your father wants to know what happened to his youngest son more than a year ago. And your brother," she scoffed sadly, tilting her face toward the dusty rock ceiling of High Gate. "He was ready to tear the Keep apart and get himself killed just to find you. I made him stay home so he didn't end up dead."Thorald's eyes glittered in the firelight, his jaw clenching and twitching, emphasizing how thin and gaunt he had become under the Thalmor's horrendous care. Aneira felt a twitch of guilt at upsetting him, but still. She strived in everything she did to do the right thing, the wise thing, the just thing. Julianos was the Divine most often beseeched by her, but Kynareth and Stendarr were never far behind. And she couldn't forgive herself if she returned to Fralia without her son and hadn't even tried to talk him out of running away.Jordis broke the silence by cautiously stirring the vegetable soup over the fire, scraping and tapping the spoon as she poured Thorald a second bowl of broth."You didn't hear the things they asked," Gray-Mane coughed out brokenly. "If I go back, if I talk to anyone, they'll be taken away."Jordis looked up now, watching their charge warily as he stood shakily to his feet."They asked over and over and over again." Thorald rasped out harshly, staring at her while his face grew flushed. "Where are the Talos shrines? Who worships him? Where does my, my family keep their amulets?" Aneira watched him, shame beginning to burn in her full belly at his deep, mournful tone. "And then they'd leave me alone in one of those damn cells for weeks. If I take even a step into Whiterun," He made another sound of grief, and the Dragonborn shifted on the ground, her own dinner unappealing now. "You want me to risk my family just to spend a few minutes with them again?""I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you," she said softly, watching as he inhaled and exhaled heavily. "Truly. But you do need to think about this." She pushed past her hesitation, knowing he would resent her words but needing to speak them all the same. "The Stormcloaks are not going to win. The rebellion is not going to win."Thorald looked at her, clearly affronted. "We've lasted far longer than any of their soldiers thought we would. And we'll outlast that broken Empire that cannot even protect its citizens from a sadistic group of murderers!" He began to yell at the end, looking between Jordis and Aneira in outrage. "You're a Nord, Housecarl, and you said you were her Thane. But you're both from Solitude." Thorald rolled his shoulders back, flexing the meager muscles. "You've both been living too long with Tullius's lies to see anything clearly.Jordis opened her mouth, no doubt ready to tell their rescued kinsman where he could take his theory, when Aneira spoke over her."I am not, from Solitude, or even from this country, actually." Thorald looked at her again, eyes still narrowed in angry disbelief. "I'm from Bruma, and I've only been in Skyrim for some months now. But," she held up a hand to halt his reply, "I've seen firsthand what this civil war is doing to the people. All of the people, and not just the Nords. Ulfric's icy sanctuary in Windhelm is only a haven for Nords. Everyone else is left to live in poverty and persecution. He doesn't even deign to have their streets and houses repaired, while the wealthy Nords live in well maintained homes. He makes the Argonians live outside the protection of the walls, practically dropping them into the Yorgrim and ice." Thorald didn't look appropriately outraged at that, and Aneira's frustration with the whole situation only escalated. "That is not what Skyrim is going to turn into. The countryside is nearly unlivable thanks to the bandits that have taken over. The guards are all too busy preparing for the Holds to launch assaults on each other. Not to mention the terror over the dragons' return."Aneira would've gone on, intent on driving home her point about the Stormcloak's idiotic "Skyrim for the Nords" mentality, when Thorald's mouth dropped open and he gaped at her dumbly."The whats returning?"Jordis jerked a look between her Thane and Thorald, mouth opening and closing like she had also just realize an important point. And Aneira, for her part, was suddenly reminded of just how long this man had been held as a prisoner to a sadistic group of mass murderers with no help from the faltering Empire that had sworn to protect him.Jordis handed Thorald another bottle of water as he gathered the meager belongings he had. The iron, hide, and leather armor pieces they'd lifted from the bandits keeping watch at the caves along the coast could hardly be warm enough for him. But it wasn't as though it would be safe to march him through Solitude the day before to have Beirand outfit him with a leftover set of armor."Thank you," he said quietly, tucking the bottle into the sack and tying it closed. They'd given him every piece of food he could carry and a few extra potions, so he had more than enough to get him to Dawnstar. The daggers from the Keep weighed down his pack, but they'd fetch a good price from the blacksmith there.Aneira hung back a bit, still desperately trying not to argue with the distraught man again.While he'd taken the news about the dragons in stride, with all the forced bravery she'd come to expect from the Nords, her revelation as to what she was had been less easy to swallow. To Thorald, the idea that the Dragonborn, Talos reborn, could even think of siding with the Empire that had abandon its founder's divinity was intolerable. Even if she hadn't joined the Legion, her disgust with Ulfric had made it quite plain that she would never join the Stormcloaks either.The Empire had without a doubt slipped from its former glory and honor. But Aneira had seen what Skyrim would fall into with Ulfric and his Stormcloaks in charge, and that was far from tolerable to her either. The White-Gold Concordat was keeping a tenuous peace until Cyrodiil could strike back against the Elves. The Nords in Ulfric's camps were simply angry bigots.But she couldn't possibly argue with anymore Thorald over this point. The Thalmor had kept him locked away like a dog, and the Empire had known where he was and hadn't lifted a finger to free him. There could be no defense that would make a difference to the hurting Nord now."Be careful out there," Aneira said as Jordis back away. She stood with her back to High Gate Ruins, giving her Thane and soon to be departed companion some space. "The Thalmor aren't usually this far north, but now you know there's a great deal more to fear than them. And that Imperial camp is just east of here." Smiling softly, she added, "Try not to start any fights."Thorald gave her a small chuckle, nodding and bracing a hand on her shoulder. "I thank you again, friend. You've given me my life back.""It was my pleasure to help your family, and to rout out some of those fiends in the bargain," Aneira answered simply, clasping a hand over his. "And before you go, let me just say something."Thorald grimaced, no doubt knowing the tenor of her words, but he did not try to stop her."I will make sure that you are always welcome in Whiterun if you ever feel that it is safe to return. But you should know," she said seriously, "that the day may come when I will have to choose a side in all of this. I'm trying to avoid that, truth be told, but," she patted his hand, letting it fall away as he took a step back. "Be far, far away from any of the Stormcloak camps if that day should arise. Alright?"Thorald looked grim, and he clearly thought she was in the wrong over her loyalties. But in the end, he nodded slowly."I'm going to give your family word that you are alive. Don't make me a liar too soon." Aneira tried to lighten the mood with her joke, stepping away from him and back to where Jordis was waiting.The man obliged her, giving her a handsome smile before grunting in agreement. "Farewell, Dragonborn. Thank you for everything you did for me."He turned away then, and began the long walk toward Dawnstar and Skald's protection, assuming the Imperial camp in the mountains didn't cause him any problems and he was careful along the coast.Jordis nudged their shoulders together, making her wolf armor clink against Jordis's steel. "Well, my Thane. That was quite the first adventure. Should I expect that type of action every time you come to the city?"Aneira laughed softly without really realizing it, the first bit of genuine humor she'd had since they'd attacked Northwatch only the morning before."May not be taking down Thalmoric forts every time, but unfortunately yes." Glancing at her young housecarl, she smiled a little. "You're in for a long haul if you want to stick with me."Jordis grinned a little wickedly. "I've never been so happy to be put to work."Aneira let out another breath of laughter, trying to calm herself from her turbulent thoughts with her easy going housecarl's presence. But her eyes inevitably followed the shrinking Gray-Mane's trail, and her features pinched again."You saved his life, Aneira." Jordis spoke up to her left as they watched the man slowly make his way out of sight. "What he chooses to do with it now is not your responsibility. Or your fault," the blonde added pointedly. "And a man must always do what he believes to be right, even when we don't all agree."Aneira hummed in agreement. "That is true. And it isn't really my place to gainsay any adult. But," she shook her head in helplessness. "I promised his mother that I would bring her son back to her if he was still living. That I would do everything in my power to deliver him home safely." Thorald winked out of sight as a strong gust of wind and snow rolled down the mountain between them all. "It may sound self-absorbed, but it's been some time since I broke a promise like this." Aneira thought of Fralia's tired face, the lines that ran so deep with worry. "He's been saved from the Thalmor for now, that true. I'd much rather tell Fralia that he's alive than not. But like this? He's just out of the frying pan and into the fire."Jordis seemed to chew on her words, making Aneira turn away to move back toward the other woman down the trail."The Gray-Manes asked you to save their son and brother." The blonde reached down to pick up her pack, wincing at the load of weapons and food she'd carried from the Keep. "That's what matters to them."The Dragonborn mimicked her housecarl, hoisting her loot higher onto her shoulders. "You're right," she said simply, even if it didn't erase the sadness churning in her gut. The sun was still rising above them, early morning light making she and her housecarl turn their faces into the warmth."For everything else? He'll have the strength it took to survive those monsters to keep him alive. And I guess he'll just have to remember your advice." Jordis looked at her, face resigned, and Aneira turned them east back to Solitude so they could stock up again and turn around to bring the news to the sweet old jeweler and her brusque and honorable husband that, for now, their son was alive.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The children and Constance had been asleep for about an hour now. From the small fenced play area, Aneira had been able to hear the noise in the main hall die down to nothing once the Imperial woman and young ones finished their daily chores. Constance had bid them all good night and turned in herself after midnight from what Aneira could see with detect life.The old woman had retreated into her own room some time before that, snapping at the kids one more time before slamming a door.Aneira shifted her shoulders, body cramping a little from sitting against the stone wall. The dark tunic and pants she wore left her cold, but they kept her covered well thanks to the addition of a thief’s hood she’d long since taken from a reckless Guild member. If anyone in the orphanage saw her, they wouldn’t recognize her past the ordinary clothes, hood, and dark green war paint handprint she’d thrown on her face. No one had seen her jump behind the stone fence, thanks to a sizeable collection of invisibility potions, but it was too risky to open the door next to the children’s beds. She had to wait until well after dark, when no one would notice when she jumped back out and slipped inside the main double doors.She brought up her left hand every so often, cloaking it in purple to watch the pattern of the guard’s movements around the marketplace through detect life. They usually left Honorhall alone.The Dragonborn waited.
She’d thought Aventus had been exaggerating.
The smell of sour milk and scraps that should have been thrown to the wild dogs was the first clue. The filthy dining tables were visible after a few steps through the unlocked door, covered in a layer of grime that rested against the wood beneath the unwashed plates, bowls, and ancient cutlery. Some held the remains of bits of cheese that weren’t meant to be moldy, or crusts of bread that looked hard and unpalatable. There wasn’t any meat on the table beyond a slice of salmon steak, and the vegetables were raw or dried and mealy.
The second clue came when Aneira moved further into the house, frowning at the bottles upon bottles of mead and wine that sat out on the shelves near the door. The bottles looked newer than some of the food attracting bugs on the table.
The third clue came from the grating voice around the corner, unseen and unpleasant. Her eyes went wide as she realized what was being said.
“Those who shirk their duties will get an extra beating.”
An elderly woman with a pinched pale face and cruel eyes stood among four children, turning in a circle around them as she berated their bent heads.
“And one more thing! I will hear no more talk of adoptions,” she sneered, purple and weathered face twisting. “None of you riff-raff is getting adopted. Nobody needs you, nobody wants you.”
The Dragonborn hadn’t needed a fourth clue, but that was more than enough.
The door still creaked as she opened it, drawing a wince after she’d secured it again. She waited for a moment, listening to see if anyone would approach. The old building remained quiet, even with Constance’s room so close. Her left-hand cast detect life again, revealing all horizontal lifeforms.Quickly casting muffle again, Aneira crept past the dining table until she reached the main hall. She paused again, waiting.The children slept on.She was grateful that the fire was almost entirely banked, even as she was certain the residents shivered in their beds. The handle of the double doors was cold, and she pulled as lightly as possible until the door finally gave.The old woman was asleep in her bed, the room dimly lit by firelight.Aneira closed the door behind her with a soft click, staying in a crouched position as she crept to the other side of the bed.Grelod was deeply cocooned in her fur blankets, snoring slightly.Her eyes popped open shock as Aneira’s gloved hands came down: one on her shoulder, and one on her mouth.“Do not scream,” she warned.Jerking a little, the woman blinked rapidly for a moment. But soon her eyes narrowed back into their usual position. Aneira glared back.“We’re going to have a few words, Grelod.”
“My Jarl, you cannot allow this to continue. The woman is-”
“Grelod has provided a home to orphaned and helpless children for decades, Thane Aneira. She is perfectly capable of disciplining and tending to their needs as she sees fit.”
Jarl Laila passed the bowl of grilled leeks to her housecarl, barely looking up from her luxurious supper to make eye contact with Aneira.
“Quite. And surely there are more pressing matters to be dealt with than a few unruly children that require strict guidance.” Anuriel added coolly, unafraid to look the Dragonborn in the face. “Or don’t you think the civil war and the dragons should take precedence?”
Aneira felt her face grow stony, watching as Anuriel went back to her venison without a care in the world.
“On the contrary,” she bit out politely, “the safety and well-being of children in your hold and under your care at that orphanage should be extremely important. Especially considering this whole situation can be rectified with a single document. It would hardly take more than a few minutes to draw up the document removing Grelod from her position.”
“And who would you have run the place instead? You?” Anuriel sliced a clean piece of meat, chewing on it in mock contemplation as she watched Aneira again.
Roggi was sitting down at the end of the Jarl’s long dinner table, slowly eating the bit of beef the servants had put in front of him. He looked decidedly uncomfortable, sitting for the first time in a Jarl’s longhouse while his companion argued with her. Roggi was not a cowardly man, nor was he meek. When Aneira had begun to make her case against Grelod, Roggi had piped up that the woman seemed touched in the head, barely even noticing that he and Aneira were in the house. But having a mine laborer argue against the Jarl, her Steward, and her wealthy dinner guests wasn’t accomplishing much today. The blonde had been predominantly ignored.
“There is already an assistant that does most of the work in the house anyway,” Aneira replied in exasperation. “Constance. Put her in charge of things. Stendarr’s mercy, the old woman isn’t even allowing adopt-”
“What would you have us do with Grelod then, Dragonborn?” Maven Black-Briar spoke calmly from her seat not far from the Jarl’s side. “Cast her out into the cold? After years of loyal and dedicated service to the hold? Surely you don’t intend to treat an old woman so cruelly.”
“An excellent point, Maven. And we have no funds in our coffers to pay Grelod some sort of stipend to live elsewhere. No, it would be best if Grelod continue to run the orphanage. We’ve never had any complaints before now, and all the children reach the age of majority without incident.” Laila nodded with a smile to the Dragonborn, moving on to speak with Anuriel again. “We should look into sending more troops along the northern roads. I don’t want to take any chances with the ore from Shor’s stone.”
“Of course, my Jarl. I’ll look into diverting a few more from the road South of the Capital.” Anuriel glanced at Aneira again. “Since our Thane intends to take care of those awful bandits holed up in the fort, we won’t need as many down that way.”
“Think you can intimidate me? In my own orphanage? Ha!” The old woman scoffed, straightening her spine as she sat back against the headboard of her bed. “Who do you think you are?”“A person with some shred of decency!” Aneira glared at the scowling weathered face, the deep wrinkles cast in stark relief in the dim torchlight. “Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to beat innocent children?”“What are you, stupid?” Grelod snapped back. “I am their guardian! I can do as I damn well please.” The old woman swung her legs around the bed, curled and purple toes seeking out her slippers. “Barging into an old woman’s room in the middle of the night like some sort of ruffian. You wait until the Jarl hears about this! I'm going to get the guards-”Aneira gripped Grelod by the left arm, fingers circling her bicep before shoving her back onto the mattress. “Get the guards? You? And tell them what?” Grelod growled back, lips pursed out as her eyes blazed. Aneira pointed a finger toward the wall, indicating the sleeping children beyond. “Are you going to explain the fresh bruises on those children? Or the scars?” The Dragonborn kept her voice a low hiss, desperate both to leave the children in the outer room to their sleep as well as keep her identity hidden. She couldn’t afford to have this known, not after speaking to the Jarl. Every second since entering the orphanage was a risk. “What are you even doing to them? What are those wounds on their wrists? Do you tie them up?”The old woman’s eyes darted away from Aneira’s face, lighting on the wall behind her as her wrinkled lips curled into a frown. Grelod said nothing in response, leaning back on her bed and pulling her legs away from Aneira’s.“What do you do?” Aneira demanded, leaning her body over the crone’s as she reigned in her temper.Nothing about this was wise. Aneira had no misgivings about that. Julianos, her most turned to adviser, was not who she had prayed to when asking for guidance in this.
Roggi hurried away from the graveyard and back into the marketplace, giving a last quick goodbye over his shoulder. Aneira closed her eyes, hands reaching into her sack for the amulet of Stendarr she and Roggi had taken from the murdered Vigilants of Stendarr along the road just the day before.
“God of mercy,” she whispered, while reaching out to the shrine of Talos, letting a blessing wash over her. “Give me guidance in this.”
Ever since coming to Skyrim, Aneira felt herself praying to the compassionate and lawful god more and more; in Helgen, when she begged for deliverance when she woke up in that carriage. In Bleak Falls, when she faced the undead for the first time. Another time outside Whiterun, when she’d helped the guards and Irileth slay a dragon. Countless more when thugs and daedra and beasts of every nature came upon her.
What did mercy and compassion call for? Spare one cruel human, even at the expense of those she would continue to hurt, because she was a life Aneira didn’t have the right to take? Or spare the innocents the pain of staying with that horrible wretch until they were finally sixteen and thrown out into the world?
“Protect the weak, heal the sick, and give to the needy.” She recited the creed to herself again and again, staring at the shrine of Talos while holding an Amulet of Stendarr until the sun had long since slipped beyond the mountains.
The young woman couldn’t say if Stendarr was with her now.“Why do you keep looking over there?” Aneira whispered lowly, turning to face the wall. There wasn't anything there that she could see, only the usual tanned hide nailed to the wood and the door back into the main room along the side.Grelod lurched, making an uncoordinated attempted to get off the other side of the bed. Aneira pulled back with a curse, moving to the foot of the bed while raising her right hand with a blue green light.The calm spell landed right on the caretaker’s chest, bringing up short the large breath she'd sucked in. The air sped out of her again as she exhaled calmly.“Stay there,” Aneira ordered quietly, watching as Grelod turned to look at her with a slow blink.Hurrying on quiet feet, Aneira went back outside Grelod’s room to peer out at the children. They hadn't moved that she could see, still shifting on their tiny beds. She exhaled in relief before stepping out into the room, her ordinary clothing and soft boots allowing her to move without any excessive noise. Another calming spell struck Grelod’s body, giving her enough time to look around quickly.There was another set of double doors to the left of Grelod’s room, closed at the moment. It would be exactly beyond the wall in Grelod's room, with limited space before the main building wall.Aneira swallowed, sweat beginning to bloom on her head. She brought her right hand up again, letting detect life seek out the living bodies in the orphanage. To her paradoxical relief and apprehension, nothing began to glow beyond the doors.Keeping a careful ear on the children and spelled-Grelod, Aneira opened the doors as quietly as possible. Muffle could only do so much to help her, especially with one of the boys so close.The room within was dark, nearly pitch black and windowless. She would have to use a light to see what was inside, and that would mean going in and closing the door behind her.That meant another shot of calm at Grelod before it faded and she started hollering for the guards.Darting back to the dark room, Aneira hurriedly closed the door behind her before bringing up magelight. It landed on the far wall only a few feet away.Aneira stumbled back into the wall.Numb horror filled her mind as she stared at the newly illuminated metal.The shackles were dark iron, place low enough along the wall that a child’s feet could reach the ground, but high enough that their wrists and shoulders would bear the strain of most of their weight.Reaching out with a trembling hand, Aneira moved to close one of the latches. They were tight enough to draw blood, much like the scars Hroar had tried to hide from her with his sleeve.Stendarr was not here with Grelod. And he would not be here for her now.
With a wave goodbye, Aneira watched Roggi head off into the night to find friends and laughter at the Bee and Barb. He’d become very fond of Talen-Jei’s specialty drinks, although Aneira had started to worry that he would spend all his coin and end up in the same situation he’d been in back at Kynesgrove.
Aneira had told Roggi that she was going out into Skyrim for the night to gather alchemy ingredients. Roggi, as she expected, hadn’t been overly interested in catching luna moths and torchbugs.
Iona had only nodded, watching her as always with those probing eyes. Aneira had wondered idly who Iona actually reported on her to: Maven or Anuriel. It hardly mattered, since she didn’t give her much to go on. But she couldn’t have Iona offering to follow her for the night. It would cause too many problems to try to lose her.
Her tenacity for planning for as many details as possible would aid her tonight, but it couldn’t cover everything that might happen in Skyrim’s city of thieves.
She left through the side door of Honeyside, changing hurriedly out of her usual scaled armor and into the long sleeves of the brown tunic and pants she’d collected from Cragslane a few weeks before. The armor was all left under the porch dining table, with a prayer that Iona wouldn’t come out to find it.
Moving quickly, Aneira took her fishing boat to the mostly unused portion of fishery docks before shoving it powerfully back toward Honeyside. It would rest against the shore, and wouldn’t raise any alarm should a passerby see it.
If she had to jump in the water after her conversation with Grelod, so be it.
The invisibility potion and muffle spell got her back inside behind one of the guards on patrol through the doors at the fishery, and the bitter drink lasted long enough for her to leap over the low stone wall to wait for the orphanage to be silent.
“You-” Aneira couldn’t finished, choking on the words while the latest calming spell faded. Grelod blinked blearily a few times, looking around the room for a moment before taking a step back.“Get out.” The wretch ordered, not bothering to modulate her voice low enough. But Aneira was past caring.“How do you sleep at night?” Aneira whispered, moving closer until Grelod was sitting down on her bed again, still trying to shift backwards. Her mouth twisted into another sneer.“Just fine, when worthless Riften gutter trash isn’t waking me up!” The crone sat up straighter, reaching up with her left hand to point a crooked finger at Aneira’s chest. “That’s all you are. And I’ve had enough of your filth for one night.”Aneira seized that raised hand, fingers wrapping tightly around the pale bony wrist.“You torture children.” Even as she said it, even as she remembered the small room, Aneira couldn’t quite believe it. Her voice still held that incredulous note, even as she tried to sound fierce. “You torture children.”Her father had been a healer. Her grandmother taught her potions of healing before all others. Her mother had told her of the necessity to kill in battle, where at least there would be honor in death.Her family had taught her to value the lives of others.The Dragonborn valued the lives of the four children sleeping battered and beaten in the other room.More than her conscience.And more than the wicked woman cursing at Aneira to let her go.She tightened her grip, letting her magicka concentrate around her fingers until it bloomed into the crackle of lightning.Grelod stiffened, her last great inhale turning into a scream. The shriek escaped before Aneira let the spell release, sending a surge of lighting up the frail and skinny arm for several endless seconds until the cry cut off.The elderly body collapsed against the bed, legs draped over the edge so that her torso was held aloft by only Aneira’s grip on her wrist. The The Dragonborn released her, letting the arm fall to the bed with a gentle thump. She backed away, moving until her shoulders pressed against the wall opposite the bed. The wall that separated the bedroom from the shackles.Sounds had started up in the main room, the frantic whispers of the children slipping past the door.Aneira watched the doors as the sounds grew nearer, an awful numbness taking over her mind after the fury and disgust that had been choking her in the punishment room. Dimly, she understood that her survival instincts had just kicked in. And they had always been painfully pragmatic.Throwing up another muffle, she readied her Illusion magicka in both hands.Heavy footsteps thudded closer until the doors began to move.“Grelod? Ma’am, are you alright?”Constance opened the doors to a blast of calm against her heart, leaving her wide eyes drooping and unfocused. The children were huddled behind her, looking around in the darkness and blinking sleepily.She couldn’t hesitate now. Aneira kept her head turned away from the light as she rushed past Constance, feeling the children yelp and gasp as pushed through them and headed toward the door.“Oh, hello.” Constance spoke distantly. “What did you need?”Aneira pressed her lips tightly together to hold back her apology, unable to do anything except launch one final calm at Constance before she left the orphanage, desperate to buy herself a few extra seconds before the guards came running. The children’s voices were already raised in alarm as their main caretaker stood motionless among them.There was no chance that Constance wasn’t going to scream bloody murder, almost literally, once that illusion spell faded.The Bruma native was out the main door in seconds, darting into the darkness while her fingers felt frantically for the last invisibility potion in her small satchel. She drank it down hurriedly before moving away from the wooden wall, sprinting without much concern for the tap of her feet on the marketplace bridges as she sped toward the doors at the fishery.The invisibility potion was dispelled as she went through the door at the fishery, and the large door closed just as Constance’s scream pierced the night air. It echoed over the still water of the lake as Aneira dashed for the dock closest to Honeyside and dove swiftly into the chilled water.Once she was safely standing on her back porch again, incriminating clothing removed and war paint thoroughly scrubbed away, Aneira let herself sink to the wooden planks and rest her back against the house. Her head hit the wood slowly, the weathered grain of the logs digging into her scalp through her hair as the Dragonborn listened to the gentle-hearted woman’s hysterical cries. |
11172663 | Caught by the Cat | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Chat Noir, Ladybug, Tikki (Miraculous Ladybug), Adrien Agreste, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Hawkmoth - Character",
"Fandom": "Miraculous Ladybug",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by orphan_account",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-11T00:00:00",
"words": "853",
"Additional Tags": "Smut, Fluff, Blow Job, Sex, Chat Blanc - Freeform, Identity Reveal, Fluff and Smut",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chat Noir/Ladybug, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng",
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} | Ladybug woke up to a dark room. The last thing she remembered was Hawkmoth loosing control over Chat. The reason he became akumatized is because the one he loved doesn't love him. The first thing she noticed is that she was tied down with rough ropes to a hard bed. The last thing she noticed was the illuminated purple eyes in the corner. Staring at her. "Ah... Bugaboo you are awake. Now that you are awake my plans can start," he said stepping closer to her. "What are you planning to do with me? What about the one you love?" Ladybug questioned following his eyes as he got closer to her. "You! You are the one I love! Were you seriously blind enough to see that? Or was because of your crush?" Chat said jealousy reeking out of his voice. "Little bit of both. You never answered my first question," Ladybug pointed out."I'm going to make you mine," Chat said with a smirk. "Chat! That is not the correct way to make me fall for you," Ladybug stated as she struggled. The more she struggled the tighter the ropes became. "Wow you thought of everything.""Bugaboo let's start," Chat said he was now at the foot of the bed. "Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way? Easy was you detransform, hard way I take out your earrings.""Tikki, spots off," Ladybug hissed. A pink glow filled. Then she said. "Leave Tikki.""Yes," She said sadly then left. "So lets see my beautiful love," Chat said then looked down at her. "My... my... Marinette Dupain-Cheng. My beautiful goddess was there the whole time.""Now lets start this process," Chat said kneeling in between her legs. He took off her shirt, admired her perfectly toned body. He then arched her back and undone her bra. He leaned down and licked her nipples. She tried to hold it back but it came out. Her groan was a great reward for him so he started to massage her breast while they became harder. After a couple more groaned filled minutes Chat unzipped his suit. He then stuck his dick in her mouth. He moved up and down it was now his turn to grown out in pleasure. "Marinette! You are a FUCKING GODDESS!" Chat groaned. In response closed her mouth a little more so her teeth scraped up against the sensitive skin. She was rewarded with a groan. "Mari! Give me more!" Chat groaned. "When I come, you swallow."After a minute, he came and she obediently swallowed and fuck that was amazing. He took his dick out of her mouth. She then groaned. "More! Fuck Chat give me more!"He untied one of her hands at this point. He pulled down her pants and panties. He then stuck his face in between her thighs and started to shit eat her pussy. He left hickeys up and down her legs. She started to tug on his hair which made him groan. "Fuck Chat how are you so fucking good?!?" Marinette said arching her back."Naturally talented," Chat said laying on top of her. "Is this what you want?""Yes, fuck, yes," Marinette said. "I'm going to untie you, if you are deceiving me. I will hunt down you family, because I want you to have an enjoyable first time," Chat said untying her hand and feet. "Chat. Just. Fuck. Me," Marinette said bringing her knees up to his waist. He then entered her. She screamed either out of pleasure or pain. Chat groaned at her scream. He started out by not going the full way in. After a couple thrusts she got used to it. "Fuck! Chat! Go! Faster!" Marinette said in between groans. She grabbed fistfuls of the sheets and cries out in pleasure. After she started to tugging on his hair. Fifteen minutes later an akuma flew out of his ring. He was still banging her, so when he came to his senses, he was Adrien. It was Adrien fucking Marinette, not Chat Noir banging Ladybug. He slowed at the realization. "Chat why are you slowing down?" Marinette asked opening her eyes. "Adrien! You are Chat Noir?""Yeah, I'm so sorry I took your first, but what the heck? Where is Ladybug? She and I were just on Notrè Dame," Adrien asked confused. He took his dick out of her clit and laid down next to her. "You don't remember do you? You became an akuma and Hawkmoth lost control over you. You told me to detransform and then we fucked," Marinette explained with a blush over her face. "That means... I fucked my Lady," Adrien said. "What about the guy you like?""You mean you. Why did you think I let you fuck me? I loved Adrien and Chat Noir," Marinette explained her blush still getting deeper. "You said loved. What changed?" Adrien asked worriedly. "Now you guys are one," Marinette explained. "Marinette, I love you so fucking much," Adrien said giving her a hug. "I love you, with or without cat ears," Marinette said kissing Adrien |
11133927 | Disclosure | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by elaine",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "1999-04-10T00:00:00",
"words": "3,100",
"Additional Tags": "Romance, Slash",
"Relationship": "Benton Fraser/Ray Vecchio",
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} | DisclosureDisclosureBenny?... I suppose you're wondering why I'm here so early... ...there's something I gotta tell you. Something important,
and if I don't do it now, I'll never be able to do it at all.
It's taken me all day just to get the nerve to come here... ...I want you to know, I wasn't going to do this. I thought
I'd go away for a couple of days till it was all over, but then I thought
what've I got to lose? Nothing, that's what.. but I was
gonna just call you, I didn't want to do this face to face. Then
I realised that if I tried to do it over the phone you'd keep
interrupting me and I'd never get it out. So here I am, and I've
got... let's see... just over an hour to tell you and you can't
say a damn thing till your shift ends... You know it's really only starting to sink in that you're
leaving. Didn't take long, huh? Only a week. You should've told
me sooner, so I could get the screaming and shouting over with
before you left. It only hit me this morning... I woke up and I
thought, today's the last day, tomorrow he'll be on the plane and I'll
never have to listen to one of those damn Inuit stories
again. And then I started to cry... I can still remember the last time
I cried. I was seven. There was this big party and all us
kids were running around being stupid and I fell over and skinned my
knees. I went inside crying and my old man saw me... he'd been drinking,
well he was always drinking... he shouted at me for
acting like a baby, and he slapped me on the face so hard you
could still see the mark two hours later. Everyone was staring at us...
I thought they were staring at me, and I was so ashamed
that I swore I'd never let myself cry again. Not even when Irene
died, not when Ange and I got divorced, never. And there I am
crying over those damned Inuit stories. And I hate those stories, Benny.
I kept telling you I hated them, but you never believed
me. ...So anyway, I guess I won't be coming to the airport
tomorrow, it wouldn't be a good idea. I'd only embarrass us both
if I lost it in front of everybody. I've gotta work with most of
them after all... Oh, yeah! That's something I wanted to ask
you... why the hell did you tell me like that, in the precinct
with everyone there.. "Hello, Ray... Oh, by the way, I've
been transferred back to the Territories, nice knowing you,
Ray." Why'd you do it Benny? Are you tired of Chicago? Of
me? Maybe you just didn't care how I felt. You sure didn't try
very hard to stop that transfer. I could've helped you, I've got
connections, I could've done something... at least I could've
tried... That isn't what I came here to say... trouble is, I just don't know
how to say it... Do you remember when we first met? Of course you do, you
remember everything... I still can't believe the way you just
walked in, some yutz from the North Pole, and took over my life.
I didn't want to help you, I mean you were weird, really weird... asking
for Detective Armani for God's sake, didn't you know
anything then? And then you tell me you're looking for your
father's murderer and stand there with that look on your face.
The big eyed Mountie look... I never could resist it, even when I think
you're putting it on... next thing I know I'm being blown
up. And shot at by men in snow suits. I shoulda known then what
it was going to be like, but I was actually glad when you came
back to Chicago. I guess I really liked you right from the start, but
I'm still not sure why... and how can I tell, now? You've
changed everything... you've changed me... sometimes I hardly
recognise myself anymore. I don't know why I put up with all the things you did to me,
dragging me through sewers and dumpsters, and more crud than I
ever knew existed in the whole of Chicago. It always stuck to me, never
you. Never, ever you... that probably means something,
don't you think? If you ever figure it out, write me a letter...
And I lost track of the times you nearly got me killed. But when
I was with you I always felt safe, like nothing really bad could
happen to me when I was with you. The funny thing is, I always
felt I had to protect you... not from being hurt, but from
people. You always care too much about other people and half the
time you'd be risking your neck for them and they wouldn't give a damn.
Like when you saved that rat-trap apartment building of
yours. Did any of the other tenants turn up? No, I had to pay
people to come in off the street to listen to you. And it never
bothered you, did it? But it bothered me... God, this is so hard... At first I thought you were crazy, the way you used to taste
things and smell things... it was really gross. And you'd track
people through Chicago like you were out in the backwoods. I'd
never seen anything like that. But it worked, didn't it? (At
least till Carver got to you. I couldn't help respecting the guy
for that, though I would have killed him, if he'd really hurt
you.) So I guess I started to believe you could do anything ...I
should have believed you when you said Zuko didn't plant that
bomb, I would have, if I hadn't felt so damn guilty about Louie.
You never said anything later, but I know I must have hurt you,
walking away from you in the squad room, with everyone staring at you,
hating you for getting Zuko off the hook. I hated you too,
then... I really wasn't thinking straight, but it's no excuse.
I'll never forget the look on your face... and I never said I was sorry,
but you still stood by me when Irene died. I was sorry,
Benny, I still am, but you know that already, don't you? I know
you don't like talking about feelings... well I don't either...
anyway... I forgot what I was going to say... oh, yeah. That time when
we arrested Tyree and you bailed him out... and you kept
telling me he hadn't shot that kid, remember? We were in court
and you were telling me about the sound of the gunfire... and I
heard it, Benny, just like you said. It was one of the most
important moments of my life. Does that sound crazy? But I felt
so close to you just then. And I wanted to be close to you. I
wanted it so much that sometimes it felt like I could talk to
you, and you could hear me, even though you weren't there. That
really is crazy, right? Maybe that's what's wrong with me, maybe I've gone crazy. God, I wish
it was that easy... The thing is... the thing I came here to say is... ...I love you, Benny... You probably don't understand what all the
fuss is about. Would you say that you love me? As friend? If
that was all, I wouldn't need to say anything... we never needed
to talk about that, it was just there, at least, I thought it
was. Now you're leaving, I'm not so sure ...It doesn't matter,
anyway, because that's not what I mean. I love you... no, I'm in
love with you. You know... touching... kissing... I want... I
want... ...sex... ...everything... I want everything, Benny... ...I don't know when it happened, when I started feeling this
way... I can remember that time when we were locked in that
freezer and you said we should conserve body heat by hugging each other.
I wouldn't do it, remember? Just the thought of it scared
the hell out of me. So I guess it must have started before then,
but I didn't know until you told me about Frannie coming to your
apartment. I know I acted kinda crazy then, you probably thought
it was because I hadn't had any sleep... Have you got any idea
how I felt? I find out I'm in love with a man, with my best
friend, for God's sake! And he's been sleeping with my kid
sister... it's like something out of a soap. At least it didn't
take me long to figure out you hadn't been sleeping with Frannie. Just
as well, or I might have really gone crazy. For a while I
thought I might even have a chance with you. I mean, you didn't
act like you knew what women were for, let alone that you knew
what to do with them... until Victoria showed up. I knew she was
trouble. You started to change when she was around, you weren't
the same person. But, if she'd made you happy, I would have
accepted that, even if it meant the end of our friendship... I
told her if she hurt you, I'd kill her. I would have too... I
really did think she had a gun, though. I was sure I saw her
aiming at you. I had her right in my sights and then I suddenly
thought, what will it do to Benny and me if I kill her? And I
hesitated, just for a second. And I shot you instead... I still
feel sick when I think about that. I always will. Even taking a
bullet for you didn't change that. Besides, I'd rather have died
than go through it all again. Three days, before they were sure
you'd live. Then, when they decided to leave my bullet in your
back... Anything would have been better than that. Anything.
...After that, I tried to put it all behind me, to forget how I
felt about you. First I dated Louise, but it never went anywhere. I guess
I wasn't really trying very hard. Until I saw Irene in
that restaurant... That would have worked. She was the first girl I ever
loved, and she was always special. Like you. Do you know
how special you are? Of course you don't... that's part of it, I
guess. Irene never knew, either. And then she was dead... I don't know
how I would've got through that without you. You didn't say
anything, but just having you there was all I needed. Listening
to me talk about her. Just being there... After that, I was too
numb to feel anything for a while, even for you. Next thing I
know, you're falling for the Dragon Lady. You sure know how to
pick 'em. I never did figure out what happened there, not a lot
by the look of it... I can't say I'm sorry about that, even if I
had given up any hope you might look at me... I was tempted
though, when you lost your memory. You were so different then,
and it almost seemed like you might be interested. But I couldn't do
it... I don't know why. Probably because I knew it wouldn't
last, that your memory would come back and you'd hate me for what I'd
done... No. I guess I just couldn't betray you like that. It
would have been a betrayal, wouldn't it, Benny? ...After that I
knew I'd never say anything, I'd never dare take the risk. But
now it doesn't matter, you're leaving and you don't even care, do you?
Well, at least I told you... Don't worry though, I'm not going to make a scene... that's
the last thing I want. No, I'll be outa here in a few minutes and you
can think about it until your shift ends. Then you can go.
Maybe you can think up an Inuit story to cover this, eh, Benny?
But who're you gonna tell it to? ...oh, shit... ...I've gotta get out of here...
*
Next day.... At the Consulate..... Ben was on the proverbial mat. Very much in his Constable
Benton Fraser, RCMP persona, he stood at attention while his
superior dressed him down over his unprofessional behaviour, but
occasionally a fatuous smile would stray onto his perfect
features. Meg sighed. Her previously dutiful subordinate had left his
post early yesterday, arrived late for work today and had
been seen kissing a member of the public while in uniform. The
fact that the member of the public in question was not one of her favourite
people was beside the point. She allowed a sense of
outrage to surface. He'd come to her three days ago, almost
begging for help in stopping that transfer. She'd spent hours and hours,
calling every contact she had, and no sooner had she told
him of her success than he pulled this stunt on her. Now he had
the gall to turn up looking ridiculously happy and as though he
hadn't slept at all last night. Even worse, she had the
impression that he wasn't listening to a word she said. "Dismissed, Constable!" "Thank you, Sir." He headed for the door, trying not
to look like he was bolting. Just as he reached for the doorknob, she
struck. "Oh, Fraser..." He turned obediently. "There's
a hickey on your neck. Kindly ask Det. Vecchio to be more
careful." His hand crept up to touch the mark that was not quite covered by
the collar of his uniform. His face turned an interesting
shade of scarlet. "Oh, dear... um, yes, Sir. I'll do that." The door
closed behind him and Meg was finally able to succumb to the
giggles that had been building for the last ten minutes. At the Precinct.... Huey and Elaine were watching Ray with the kind of fascination usually
reserved for zoo animals. He'd arrived late for work,
though that wasn't so unusual, but he didn't often look that
tired or that happy. Especially at the same time. He was sitting
at his desk now, but he hadn't done a thing for the last twenty
minutes except stare into space with a remarkably silly smile on
his face. "Oh, God, he's in love again. I wonder who she is." Elaine looked at Huey incredulously. Ray had been moping
around all week because Fraser was leaving Chicago, and then this morning
he'd come bouncing in wearing the same clothes he'd had
on yesterday, waltzed her to his desk and announced that Fraser
wasn't leaving after all. Then he'd sat down and, well... stared
into space. She handed Huey the armful of files she'd looked out
for him. "You're the detective, Jack. You figure it out." Huey stared after her in surprise as she walked away. At the apartment..... Dief lay in a patch of warm sunlight. On the floor. He lifted
his head occasionally and stared mournfully at the bed. Although
he had let his human sleep in it sometimes, he had always
considered the bed wolf territory, but now his human and his mate had
claimed it off him. Even though they had stripped the bed of
its coverings that morning, their scent still haunted it. He'd known as soon as the small human brought him back here
last night what had happened. But his human had sat down with
him, taken his muzzle in his hand so that Dief knew it was
serious, and started telling him all about it. Please!
Did they think he was sight and scent deprived as well as deaf?
He'd listened politely of course, ignoring the wise cracks of his human's
mate. He wasn't supposed to be able to hear them anyway
and there was a limit to how far he could stretch that lip
reading scam. Then they'd gone back to their mating, and after a few minutes he'd
turned his back on them, since his staring appeared to be
making them both uncomfortable. Humans had no social instincts at all.
It was disgusting, how had they managed to survive as a
species? Their reaction shouldn't surprise him, though, considering how long
it had taken them to get this far. The first time he'd seen
them together, he'd noticed that prickling of interest that
happens when meeting a potential mate, and since he'd approved,
he'd dropped a few hints which neither of them seemed to have
noticed. He'd watched them go through the mating ritual, spending time
together, scouting territory, the occasional touch, the way
their voices would change when they were together. He'd sensed
when the bond was complete, but then nothing had happened. He'd
wondered about that for a while and then lost interest as the
seasons passed. Now, it seemed, they didn't want to do anything
but mate! He'd been lucky to be fed at all last night. He'd never understand humans. Never. About 2 weeks later in San Francisco.... "OK, where are we now?" The video was showing a
series of generic high-rise buildings, it could have been
anywhere. Then a building came into view. "Isn't that the car museum?" "Yeah... that means it must be... Chicago, wasn't
it?" Cat calls from their friends were ignored while they
conferred and decided that, yes, it was Chicago. They all stared
at the antique cars appreciatively. Then the scene cut back to
the street and a mint green '71 Buick Riviera. Moans of sheer
envy were heard. "Oh, man. Look at that, will you..." "You mean the car, or the hunk in uniform?" Cushions
were thrown. "The other guy's not bad either." "Yeah, but that uniform..." One of the hosts sat up suddenly. "Hey, isn't this that
Mountie we saw, and the cop?" "Oh, yeah. Watch this guys, it's so sweet." The video abruptly focused on the two men. The one in the suit had
turned away, headed for the Riviera. The Mountie suddenly
broke from his place and followed him. "Are they allowed to do that?" "Shh!" The two men were standing facing each other in the middle of
the sidewalk, oblivious to the passersby who had stopped to
watch. The Mountie pulled off his Stetson and flung it back
towards the building he was supposed to be guarding. Then he
grabbed the other man's face between his hands and kissed him
passionately. The room erupted into cheers and whistles. |
11163072 | Roadtrip | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Saeran Choi, Yoosung Kim, stinky choi lmao",
"Fandom": "Mystic Messenger (Video Game)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by 6am",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-10T00:00:00",
"words": "5,180",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff, it's just gay - Freeform, a big gay birthday present",
"Relationship": "Saeran Choi/Yoosung Kim",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "The Legend of Stinky Choi",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | Ting ting
Ting ting brrrrring
Yoosung’s phone is vibrating so much it falls off of his nightstand, and the thud is what wakes him up more than anything. He sits up quickly, nearly choking himself on his sheets the way they’re wrapped around his neck-
jesus
how did they get all the way up there, what the hell. He wrestles with the blankets for a moment before he can wiggle himself out enough to pat around on the floor for his phone. It goes off one more time just before he gets his hands on it, and Yoosung squints at the light when he flips it open.
☁♥Saeran♥☁: check out this meme
☁♥Saeran♥☁: img_89475928.png
It’s just a really badly oversaturated picture of some cartoon with much higher quality fire being shot from the eyes with the words “be gone thot” on the top and bottom. Yoosung snorts and saves the picture to his phone.
Yoosung
★: ok you keep sending me these but what is a thot
Yoosung★: saeyoung won’t tell me??
☁♥Saeran♥☁: wtf are you doing awake right now
☁♥Saeran♥☁: it’s 4 am
It is? Yoosung looks at the clock on his phone, then blinks a few times. He thought that maybe it was at least 7 am or something. He had passed out around 5 or so after he had taken his last final for this semester, and he had
really
only meant to nap for a few hours at most. But now he’s not really that tired after sleeping for so long, even though it’s so early.
Yoosung
★: i fell asleep really early T_T
Yoosung
★: you’re the one sending me memes at 4 in the morning
☁♥Saeran♥☁: whats new
☁♥Saeran♥☁: i took a nap earlier
Still, Yoosung feels like he should be sleeping, but he’s still just greedy enough to be happy just talking to his boyfriend despite the hour and both of their terrible sleeping schedules. He doesn’t even get to finish typing out his gently chiding message for Saeran to sleep when a new message comes onto the screen.
☁♥Saeran♥☁: lets go somewhere
☁♥Saeran♥☁: i can pick you up in like 15 minutes
Yoosung
★: babe where are … Maybe that’s too much, Yoosung hits the delete key to clear out his answer. Dating for almost 6 months and he’s still shy about the whole… petnames thing. When do you even start? He fills his cheeks with air and lets it out noisily, next time he’ll do it.
Yoosung
★: where are we even going?
☁♥Saeran♥☁: idk
☁♥Saeran♥☁: we can just go for a drive maybe
Should “a drive” be so exciting? Especially at 4 in the morning? Yoosung jumps out of bed to brush his teeth and change out of the day-clothes he had slept in anyway, typing so fast he has to delete about thirty typos.
Yoosung
★: ill pack a bag just in case ₍ᐢ•ﻌ•ᐢ₎*･ﾟ｡
-
The front desk attendant in the lobby of his dorm building is one he’s never seen before, some older man who gives him a bright smile that’s too much for such an early hour and the few students he can see bustling to get out the door and to get to a hellishly early final. He gives one girl a pitiful smile when she looks at him with the most dead eyes he’s ever seen and holds the door open for her, he’s pretty sure she sobbed a little when he offers a weak wish of good luck. Poor girl.
The bright red car sitting in the parking lot captures his attention much more than the probably crying girl though, and he jogs over to it. The car makes a small chirping sound when the doors unlock, and Yoosung has to steel himself. This is it..! The perfect chance to drop a cute little petname. Not too gooey, not too formal- can they even be formal? Whatever, he takes a deep breath and pulls the door open.
“Hi b… Stinky?”
The cat jumps from Saeran’s lap and into the passenger seat, readying himself to be picked up. Yoosung stares at him for a moment, and then he just laughs. He scoops Stinky up and holds him to his chest as he seats himself in the car.
“You didn’t tell me he was coming with us.” Yoosung chuckles, not even having it in himself to fake some kind of chiding tone. Saeran just shrugs, looking over his shoulder as he pulls out of the parking space. He buckles himself in with some difficulty with having to work it around an excited cat, but he gets a good look at his boyfriend once it clicks into place. He looks rested enough, with only a little bit of darkness under his eyes that he just can’t seem to shake yet. Saeran looks comfortable in the seat, in a soft zip up hoodie and… and…
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in shorts before.” Yoosung comments, laughing when Saeran looks down at his own bare legs like he forgot he had put on shorts earlier.
Saeran gives him a weird look, but he’s smiling too. “I guess not, sorry you have to see my chicken legs.”
“They’re not chicken legs!!” Yoosung puffs air out of his mouth when Stinky aggressively brushes against his cheeks, trying to get the cat hair out of his mouth. “They’re… they’re just,” Saeran sits patiently while Yoosung tries to sort out his words. “I mean, they’re. Legs.”
“Uh-huh.” Saeran taps on the screen of his phone for a minute before he plugs it into the radio. “Are we going to sit here and discuss my legs, or are we going to go?”
Yoosung gives up, playing with the little bell on Stinky’s collar instead. “Let’s discuss why Stinky is coming with
while
we go- not that I’m upset that he’s going.”
“He just kept following me around so…” Stinky meows loudly, like he’s agreeing to it. “I figured it wouldn’t be a bad idea to bring him. He likes the car.”
Stinky really does seem to be relaxed even as Saeran speeds up to a probably - definitely- illegal speed for the highway. The cat is content to be in Yoosung’s lap, soaking up the attention and pets he’s getting now. What a weird cat, Yoosung thinks, but that’s probably fitting considering this cat is officially a Choi.
In 3.45 kilometers, exit left.
Yoosung looks down at Saeran’s phone where it’s plugged into the radio, but he can’t decipher the end location just from the slowly moving arrow on the map screen. “Where are we going?”
He just shrugs again, reaching for his phone to glance at the directions it’s giving him. “It’s a surprise, I guess.” Saeran leaves it at that, but hands his phone over to Yoosung. “Here, you can play some music if you want.” He puts both his hands back on the wheel once Yoosung has the phone, and Yoosung watches his fingers flex around it. “Uhm…” He starts, and Yoosung stops his search from his scrolling to look at him. Saeran takes one hand off of the wheel to run it through his hair, and Yoosung loves the way the unruly curls get even messier. “It’s going to be kind of a long drive, sorry.”
Yoosung frowns and puts the phone down in his lap for Stinky to sniff at. He puts his hand on Saeran’s arm, and he can see Saeran look at him out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t care, I like long rides.” His hand slides down from his bicep to the inside of his forearm, and he grins when Saeran’s hand turns palm up so Yoosung can continue the trail down to hold his hand. “And I get to spend time with you, so I could sit in the car for a long time.”
“Hush.” Saeran tries to bump their still-together hands against Yoosung’s thigh, but he ends up pushing against Stinky instead. “Just put some music on, we’re going to be in here for a while.” Their hands rest comfortably just about the center console, and Yoosung uses his free hand to pick the phone up from his lap again. Stinky is back to staring out the window for a while, and Yoosung just enjoys the ride and having an excuse to hold Saeran’s hand for such a long time.
Soft, synthy pop music fills the silence of the car for the first leg of the drive. Saeran is quiet like he usually is, Yoosung has come to enjoy the quiet times they have in the car. It used to be a little awkward, where he felt like he had to try and start some kind of conversation, to talk about something to pass the time. But with more and more time together in - and out - of the car, Yoosung has found some comfort in it. There’s nothing more to do than just sitting in the seat and listening to music he and his boyfriend had put together into a playlist.
With the addition of having to hold a cat this time, but Stinky is fine just looking out the window or sprawling himself out in Yoosung’s lap. Yoosung can see the cat eyeing their hands, but as long as someone is petting Stinky he’ll stay put without complaint. Yoosung will gladly accept kitty patrol to go on this early morning adventure with Saeran, he just hopes that Stinky had taken a stop by the litterbox before the trip.
Yoosung turns to look at Saeran, about to try and get an answer out of him about just where they could be going at - he checks his phone for the time - 4:57 am, but when he turns to him the question dies in his throat. Saeran is tapping his thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of the song, his lips barely moving as he mouths the words and Yoosung is relieved that he’s too focused on driving and listening to notice him grinning like an idiot at him.
He flips his phone open and tries to be as sneaky as possible about opening up Slapchat and pointing his phone at him. The app is ridiculously chopping on his aging phone, but it finally cooperates with him and he starts recording the video. He’s done this so many times he doesn’t know how Saeran hasn’t somehow developed a sense for it, but Yoosung is delighted to have even this ten second clip for himself. He never sends these to anyone, and maybe that’s a little weird, but he likes looking at them along with the few pictures he can get Saeran to take with him.
Is this a good time to drop something cute? Should he have Saeran’s first reaction to being called something like
baby
or
honey
or
something
on camera? But what if Yoosung’s voice cracks., or if he loses his nerve halfway through… he can’t sacrifice a cute video for that. Next time, he tells himself, clearing his throat softly. “Hey, Saeran.” Yoosung speaks up just as the little timer is about to go out, and he beams whenever Saeran looks over at him. He’s smiling just a bit, a cute little upward turn to the corners of his mouth that immediately drops when he sees the phone being pointed at him.
“You’re the worst.” Saeran grumbles, letting his head fall back against the headrest of the seat with a grumpy expression, but Yoosung can’t stop laughing. He leans across the console, pressing his cheek against Saeran’s shoulder.
“I’m
sorrrryyy
,” He giggles, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric of the jacket like Stinky does when he wants attention. “But you were being so cute, I had to capture that forever.”
Saeran takes their still intertwined hands and punches softly against Yoosung’s stomach. “The
worst.
” He says again, but makes no other move to try and push Yoosung away. “I swear you have like, two thousand videos of me where I don’t even look at you until the end.”
“It’s not
that
many.” Yoosung huffs. Stinky is trying to get into another comfortable position with Yoosung leaning like this, and Yoosung’s leg twitches when the cat starts kneading at his thigh. “Can you at least give me a hint for where we’re going? What’s even open this early?”
“It’s not a surprise if I tell you where it is, Yoosung.” Saeran speeds by another car just as it’s pulling onto the highway. He taps his fingers against the wheel again. “But it doesn’t really ever close, so it’s not a big deal.”
Yoosung furrows his brows, trying to think of where this place that doesn’t close could be. Is it some kind of 24 hour store? There’s no sense in driving for a few hours to go to a convenience store or something when there’s several not even ten minutes from Yoosung’s dorm building. Some fancy forever open restaurant? No, Saeran definitely wouldn’t be wearing holey jean shorts to some fancy place, his fashion sense might be questionable but he’s not
that
bad- no matter what Zen says. Maybe a cat playground? A cat party? Do people even have parties for their cats?
Then Yoosung remembers that he knows Jumin Han on a personal level, and realizes that that was probably a dumb question to ask himself. Definitely a dumb question.
“Well, have you been there before? Or have
I
been there before?” He asks, and Saeran purses his lips while he tries to think of an answer.
“I’ve never been before,” Saeran starts, taking an exit when his phone gives the direction. “You have, but maybe not this one.” Yoosung can feel his shoulders move a little when he laughs softly at the way Yoosung groans in response.
“What kind of answer is that?” Yoosung rubs his face harder into his boyfriend’s shoulder. This is too much for maybe a little after five in the morning, even if he’s had a good amount of sleep beforehand.
Saeran takes his eyes off the road long enough to press a quick kiss to the top of Yoosung’s head. “It’s a good one, so take it. I don’t think we’re too far away from it now.” Yoosung heaves a dramatic sigh, but he can tell that Saeran isn’t going to budge. He makes himself comfortable resting against his arm, pulling his legs up to cram most of his lower body into the seat. Stinky gives him some impressive stinkeye for a cat, then slinks down onto the floor of the car to nap undisturbed.
Yoosung keeps trying to think of places that might be possibilities, but there’s only so much he can try to figure out before he decides to give up on it. Plus, the car is decently comfortable, and he’s so used to cuddling up to Saeran’s side when they sleep can’t really help dozing off for a few minutes, or maybe it’s longer, but he doesn’t really have any grasp of time until the voice of the GPS sounds off again.
In 1 kilometer, you will arrive at your destination.
Yoosung lifts his head from Saeran’s shoulder, looking out the windows to try and see something he recognizes. It’s a pretty sparse area, where he doesn’t see many buildings or trees, but some of it looks vaguely familiar. The sun has started rising steadily now, and the sky is slowly bursting to life. They fly by a sign so fast that Yoosung almost can’t read it, but he had seen enough of it to look over excitedly when his slightly fuzzy brain catches up to speed.
“We’re going to the beach?” He grins, and squeezes Saeran’s hand when he nods. He looks down into the footwell where Stinky is sleeping belly up, and the cat barely responds to the noise. “Did you hear that, cutie? We’re going to the beach!”
“I figured there wouldn’t be too many people here this early, and you were saying a few days ago that it’s been a while since you’ve been able to go.” Saeran slows the car down as the small parking lot appears. “I um, I did want it to just be us… but
somebody
wouldn’t leave me alone.” He looks pointedly at Stinky, who only does a cute little wiggle while he’s still on his back.
Yoosung is still grinning, and he’s craning his neck to try and see the ocean from here. “He’ll be fine, no one should really be here, like you said.” Oh, he’s so excited. He wants to hug Saeran, wants to kiss him to thank him for his thoughtfulness, but he really shouldn’t do that while he’s driving. Yoosung brings their hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of Saeran’s hand instead.
Saeran’s fingers twitch, and Yoosung can see his face getting red, so of course he has to do it again. Saeran lets the assault of tiny kisses go on until he has to park, and he wiggles his hand free and grumbles about it, but Yoosung knows it’s just for show. He reaches down to pick Stinky up as Saeran parks the car and lifts up the middle of the center console to grab the little harness for Stinky, and Stinky looks absolutely appalled at the sight of it. He meows, then goes entirely limp in Yoosung’s lap when Saeran brings it closer to him.
“Oh, come on, you little shit. You don’t even hate this thing that much. ” He gives Yoosung a look when all he does is laugh, but the two manage to coax Stinky into the harness after only a bit of fighting. “It’s just until we get down there, nerd, cry about it.”
Stinky only continues to be as limp as possible in Yoosung’s arms, making it as difficult as he possibly can for the straps to be put in place properly over his body. Saeran clips the leash onto the ring between Stinky’s shoulderblades, giving him a little tug once he opens the car door. He jumps right out after Saeran, already pulling on the leash so he can sniff around in the small patches of grass that are taller than him.
Saeran waits patiently for Yoosung to step out of the car, snorting when he does a few overexaggerated stretches. Saeran points the keyfob over his shoulder to lock the car as they make the trip down the messily paved walkway toward the beach, trying to keep Stinky up with their pace even though the little cat is trying to sniff every blade of grass that he can see.
“So this is the place that doesn’t close, huh?” Yoosung laughs, walking mostly on the tips of his toes to try and see the ocean. “You’ve never really been to the ocean before, though?”
Saeran shakes his head. “No, I’ve always wanted to, but I never really had the time. Or a car and a GPS to get me there.”
“It’s so
fun
,” Yoosung starts walking faster now that he can hear the waves coming in, and he’s pretty sure he can see the glimmer of water in the distance. “I’ve never been in the morning before, we always went in the middle of summer when I was a kid. There’s shells all over the place, and there’s crabs! One time I found a starfish, too.”
Saeran smirks, and Stinky’s bell is jingling like mad as he follows his owner. “Is that the story your dad told me where you thought it was going to grow into your hand or something if you held it too long?”
Yoosung stops mid-step, but Saeran continues down the trail and laughs. “Okay, my
sister
told me that, first of all. I was like, six years old! She was so mean to me as a kid, I
swear
.” He has to jog for a few steps to catch up with his boyfriend, and he pushes against his shoulder when he’s walking by his side again. Saeran just bumps into him in return, and the two of them play this game of back and forth until their feet hit the sand, and Saeran looks up. Yoosung watches his eyes widen and his jaw go slightly slack.
“Wow.” He breathes, just watching the water come and go against the sand. Yoosung looks out as well, and it’s even a little overwhelming for him considering he’s been out at the ocean several times.
The sun is reflecting off the water as it rises more and more steadily, and the few clouds that are out are such a pretty shade of maroon. It’s so serene, and Yoosung has never been so happy to be awake at such an obnoxious hour. The way Saeran is so enamoured by the ocean, the way his hair whips around in the soft breeze, the smile that’s blooming on his face without him even realizing it. He’s so beautiful it almost makes Yoosung’s heart ache.
Ting ting ting
The soft jingling sound breaks Yoosung out of his trance, and he pats at his pocket to see if his phone is going off. There’s no vibration coming from his pocket though, and the sound keeps happening. He looks down at the ground toward Stinky and he’s…
Stinky is sitting in the sand, one leg kicked up in the air as he thoroughly licks his butt.
Incredible.
Saeran looks over at Yoosung when he bursts out in laughter, and it takes him a minute to see what’s so funny until he looks down at his cat. “Way to go, Stinky.” He rolls his eyes, and Yoosung only laughs harder.
“C’mon,” Yoosung breathes deeply to try and tame the giggles, reaching down to untie his shoes so he can pull them off. “Let’s go walk around, let’s see if we can find some tide pools.”
Saeran kicks off his shoes as well, whistling once to get Stinky’s attention so he can lead him out onto the beach. He waits until they’ve been walking along for a few minutes to unclip the lease from the harness, and Stinky only strays a few feet from them, sniffing the sand and getting incredibly close to the water before it creeps up just a bit too far and washes over his feet. Yoosung and Saeran both snicker at the way the cat leaps into the air at the sensation, and Stinky nearly falls in the sand as he books it over to Saeran.
Stinky wails, lifting his paws a little too high when he realizes that the sand has turned to mud against his wet feet. Saeran sighs, but squats down to scratch behind his ears. “You’re fine, dummy. It’s just water.” He pushes against his side before he stands upright again. “Go run around, you’ll live.”
It takes a few nudges with his foot, but Saeran finally gets Stinky to go off on his own, and the two of them follow a few feet behind Stinky as he explores the beach. They walk silently, but Yoosung doesn’t mind when he can watch Saeran’s face as he takes in the surroundings. He stares out at the ocean as they walk, not even caring when the water brushes up against his bare feet when they walk closer to the water. They don’t find any tide pools, but they watch and laugh together when Stinky manages to find a few crabs skittering around in the sand and he bats them around, leaping into the air and wiggling his butt as he prepares to pounce on another.
They continue to walk along the beach, stopping here and there to pick up shells or to laugh at Stinky’s antics as he loses his mind when a bird lands on the beach. He only manages to get a few feet away from the bird until it flies away, and he meows pitifully at the sky as he watches it disappear into the sky.
The sun is rising higher into the sky when Stinky seems to get tired of running around, and Yoosung finds a spot next to the water where they can still keep an eye on the cat while they sit. Yoosung wishes he had brought a blanket or something, but all he had brought with him was a few snacks and his wallet, both of which are still in the car. Saeran leans into Yoosung’s side just a few moments after they settle into the sand, wrapping his arms around his legs. Yoosung puts his arm over his shoulders, feeling warm when Saeran scoots even closer to him.
“I’m really glad you brought me here.” Yoosung murmurs, resting his cheek on top of Saeran’s head. Saeran hums softly in reply, but Yoosung can feel his body stiffen up a bit. Is something wrong..? Yoosung rubs his hand up and down Saeran’s arm gently, giving him a squeeze. “... are you okay?”
Saeran hums again, but he hasn’t relaxed in Yoosung’s hold yet. He takes a deep breath, and then another, Yoosung keeps petting him gently, waiting patiently for him to sort out the words. They sit quietly for a while, watching the sun rise and listening to the tide. Yoosung can feel Saeran’s chest expand as he takes one last breath, much deeper than the rest.
“There’s… there’s a reason I brought you here.” He says quietly, and the way his voice shakes just the slightest big has Yoosung’s heart beating a little harder. Yoosung stays quiet though, staring out at the ocean while Saeran talks. “There’s something I really… that I really wanted to tell you, I didn’t really know how to do it, and it just kind of came up.” He can hear Saeran swallow hard, and Yoosung kisses his temple, nuzzling his nose into his hair.
“You can tell me anything, baby.” Yoosung murmurs, and he doesn’t even think about it this time. It just comes out, but the way Saeran ducks his head and snuggles up even closer into his side is a good enough sign that yeah, this was definitely the right time to get a little mushy. He can’t help the way his heart races though, he’s only heard Saeran be this hesitant when he feels like he’s done something wrong, and the anxiety is slowly creeping into Yoosung’s throat.
Saeran takes another deep breath, letting it out as slow as he can before he lifts his head, and Yoosung’s heart twists painfully. His eyes are wide, his eyebrows drawn up in the middle and his bottom lip quivers for half a second. Saeran holds his gaze for just a moment before he turns back to the ocean. “I’ve just been thinking a lot,” He sighs, resting his chin on his knees. “And I don’t really know how or when to do any of this, and I don’t want to do it wrong but…”
The waves come up just a little bit higher, the water is cool when it washes up against Yoosung’s bare feet. A few birds fly across overhead, cawing and screeching just loud enough that Yoosung doesn’t entirely catch what Saeran says under his breath.
“What?” He pulls back just enough to look down at his boyfriend where he’s curled up against his side. Saeran puts his forehead against his knees, but he talks loud enough for Yoosung to hear this time.
“I’m in love with you.”
Yoosung is absolutely certain that his heart has just leapt out of his chest and into the ocean. He stares at Saeran, his mouth hanging open. Saeran tightens his grip on his legs, and Yoosung feels terrible that he’s obviously taking his silence as a bad thing, but he’s desperately trying to reign his emotions in before the ground swallows him whole.
“I just. I’ve been thinking a lot, and it just. It feels really… really good to be with you.” Saeran stares out at the water while he talks, taking his time to let every word out. “I’ve never really thought that I would… that I would get to feel this way about someone. I always thought that I wouldn’t get to…” He sniffles just a little and Yoosung’s heart
throbs.
“I just… I’m so in love with you, Yoosung.”
Say something.
Yoosung screams to himself, blinking hard to make sure he’s not still asleep, that this isn’t a dream. Saeran is
in love with him.
Saeran opens his mouth again, and Yoosung can tell by the way he shivers in his hold that he’s thinking that he’s messed it up, that he’s ruined everything. Yoosung doesn’t even think twice before he tackles Saeran to the ground, wrapping his arms tight around his neck. Saeran yelps at the sudden movement, staring up at his boyfriend with wide eyes.
Yoosung blinks, then blinks again before he starts to laugh. Saeran looks terribly confused under him. Yoosung shakes his head, still laughing as he leans down so his forehead touches Saeran’s. “I love you.” He breathes. “I love you, I love you.” He says it over and over, kissing all over Saeran’s cheeks when he wraps his arms around his neck. “I love you so much, Saeran.”
He finally lands a kiss on his lips, and Saeran pulls him closer, letting his hand slip into Yoosung’s hair. They continue to kiss until the waves roll in closer and Yoosung can feel the water brushing up against his arms, and it startles him enough that he jumps away and nearly falls onto his back with a shout.
Saeran erupts into laughter, folding his arms over his stomach and even though half of Yoosung’s shirt is soaked he’s so, so in love with this boy laughing at him because he was scared of some water. This boy that took him to the beach at four in the morning just to tell him he’s in love with him, the boy who brought his cat along for such an important moment.
Speaking of cats…
“Oh my god,” Yoosung scrambles to his feet. “Where’s Stinky?”
Saeran’s laughter stops abruptly, and he leans up on his elbows to look around frantically. Yoosung turns around, calling for Stinky as loud as he can. Oh god,
please
don’t let this be ruined by Stinky getting lost at the beach, where did he go? What if he got caught up in the tide? What if he got lost in one of the patches of tall grass? What if-
“Oh,
hell
yeah.” Saeran says, and Yoosung turns around to where he’s looking. Oh, thank god, Stinky is right over there and-
Oh.
Oh.
He’s…
He’s pooping.
“I’m so proud of him.” Saeran sounds entirely too serious as he watches Stinky bury his mess in the sand, and Stinky also looks very proud of himself for using the biggest litterbox of his life. Yoosung really doesn’t think he should feel so warm inside when he watches his boyfriend give his cat a high five for using the bathroom, but he can’t help it.
Love is weird, but Yoosung is pretty sure he can handle it. |
11178357 | Xin Bo Shui De Fa Qing | {
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} | 高管昕！x猫妖博！ 兽耳、尾巴出现。一个脑洞。弱化博儿一块非常不好吃的肉，一辆只有一个轮子的破三轮。OOC OOC OOC请在无人情况下食用 公司终于在年底早早的放了假。比起上班上到小年夜*，许昕在大年夜的一周前就放了假。年初和上上任女朋友果断的分个手，后来又好不容易谈了一个男朋友，却又在7月份急着赶各种财务账单报表的时候被急的焦头烂额，硬是把男朋友冷落了大半个月。半年内两次感情都不了了之的27岁许昕决定，还是先把工作做好。于是心无旁骛的决定一心工作，坐稳自己的CFO。在结束一整年的忙进忙出和高压运转，终于坐上了自己买了好久却没坐过几次的皮质沙发，刷着师兄马龙的朋友圈，看到自家公司CEO和副总卿卿我我的马尔代夫蜜月照片，终于忍不住说了句，辣眼睛。却与此同时传来了阳台外挠玻璃的声响。是一只看着没几个月大的小花猫。背上的黄毛夹杂着大量的黑色毛发，四肢倒是雪白雪白的。被工作总是压倒喘不过气的许昕此时感到会心一击。小家伙不遗余力的挠着玻璃门大概是饿了。许昕刚一开门，小奶猫就用小巧的脑袋蹭着许昕的裤脚，一点都不见生的样子。看着小家伙一点都不怕生，反而神兜兜的在自己脚边绕来绕去，许昕抱着被挠的准备，索性一屁股坐在了地板上，长臂一伸把小猫抱到自己怀里。小家伙露出了白乎乎的肚子，褐色的大眼睛舒服的眯成了一条缝，耳朵都耷拉下来，用小脑袋蹭着许昕的手。“天啦。”许昕的嘴都快咧到了耳根，想了想，抱着小家伙占了起来跑到自家储藏室找了最后一点之前张继科和马龙出差时存养道格时留下的狗粮给他充饥。小猫倒也不嫌弃的呼哧呼哧的吃了起来。尾巴在空中挥来挥去。许昕看的心痒痒的从尾巴根儿那边呼噜了一把到尾巴尖儿。吃着东西的小猫回头看都没看许昕一眼似乎认定许昕不会伤害他。“方博儿”许昕几乎是脱口而出的给眼前还没认识几分钟的小家伙取了一个人类一般的名字。许昕好像是被自己的反应乐到了，咧着嘴自言自语“诶这个名字不错。嘿嘿。”抱着这个小家伙从家里找了一床破旧了不用的毛毯放在之前别人送的装水果的盒子里面，算是给了方博儿一个室内的一个窝。“你别在家里乱来，我现在给你从网上订点猫砂之类的，知道没。”许昕修长的手指指着小方博儿粉嫩的鼻子。也许许昕自己也觉得对着一只猫说话有点智障，挠了挠后脑勺，便坐在沙发上摆弄味道的人类发明淘宝去了。好在这只小野猫虽然年纪小但是却通人性，也不挠家里的家具，也不捣乱。在许昕在家的这两个礼拜，方博儿一下子就变成了圆博儿。 “我今天要去上班啦！在家里听话一点听到没？张姨会来打扫卫生，别给她添乱。把吃的吃干净。晚上等我回来？”这是许昕放假后第一天上班，虽然方博儿圆了一大圈，但是还是第一次把他留在家里不管这只小猫有多听话，许昕都有点不放心。 “喵~” “乖！”许昕揉着方博儿蹭过来的脑袋，又捏了捏方博儿的小肉垫。带着点不放心上班去了。 作为财务执行总监，许昕的工作很忙，十分忙。但是忙到上班第一天就要加班还是第一次。随便在公司吃完晚饭的许昕，一头扎入了最后的核对工作。而在所有核对都结束，素来在职场上十分难缠今天却被工作缠的无法分身的许昕拖着疲惫的身体回到家中的时候，已经早上一点多了。 “方博儿？”许昕忽然想起来家里最近的租客，脑子混混沌沌的，努力的想把眼皮撑起来。 方博儿闻声一溜烟的跑到自己脚边蹭了蹭。许昕见状就安心的走进了自己的卧室，睡了过去。 也许是因为太累了。许昕错过了早上的闹钟，是在下午饥肠辘辘的时候被客厅传来的一阵呻吟吵醒的。 近半年的许昕忙到天旋地转，没时间约炮，更没带过除了男女朋友以外的人回家，这样的呻吟，让许昕突然一惊，开了一道卧室的门缝向外看去。 一个浑身赤裸的少年顶着带有些杂毛的猫耳朵和尾巴坐在自己家的沙发上。双腿之间的性器翘的老高。少年跪爬在宽阔的沙发上，丝毫没有察觉到门后的许昕正透过门缝看的目瞪口呆。不管这么说，许昕也是有正常需求的青壮年。这样香艳的画面，几乎是一秒，就硬了。 此刻的方博儿正一只手在自己嘴里，努力的用口水打湿手指，另外一只手抚慰着尾巴根部和臀部连接的位置。尾巴在空中一甩一甩的，尾巴尖因为自己的抚摸舒服的发直。 “你是谁？”看着熟悉的毛发色，许昕心中的答案呼之欲出，但是却不敢相信，毕竟，建国之后，不能成精。 许昕还是一脸正直的根正苗红的祖国好少年。当然，前提是忽视他下体早已搭起的小帐篷。方博儿似乎是受了惊吓，抚摸着尾巴的手胡乱中碰到了哪里，眼睛和嘴巴都一下子长得极大，胸口和腿间一下子喷布出的白灼一下子飞的到处都是，弄脏了许昕的皮质高档沙发，还弄到了方博自己的脸上。方博的舌头飞快的在嘴唇上转了一圈，不经意间带走了刚刚溅在嘴边的精液。许昕觉得自己被眼前的小妖精勾引的快不行了，慢慢走近了方博，把方博整个人都笼罩在自己的阴影之下，“你是方博儿？” 方博的脸颊上还带着刚刚高潮时不经意留下的生理泪水，整个人泛着一种粉嫩的红色，可怜兮兮的，顶着像是挑染过姜黄色的头发，点了点头。 “怎么回事？”许昕努力摆出了严肃的脸却在方博儿一句充满了水汽的恳求“我发情期到了，许……许昕你帮帮我好不好，好难受”许昕来不及怀疑种种，一切思绪就被方博儿接下来的动作完完全全的打断了。 方博儿从沙发上直接跪在了大理石地上。 冰凉的地板让方博儿不习惯的“呼”了一声。接着毫不拖泥带水的拉开了许昕的拉链。原本在内裤中搭着小帐篷的肉棒，一下子没有了束缚带着一些前液打在方博脸上。方博却丝毫不在意的伸出小舌头努力勾勒出巨大上的经脉，时不时的扫过马眼，抬起头带着一些挑衅的看着许昕。饶是许昕耐力再好也受不住方博这样的挑逗，左手抓住方博的后脑勺就把自己的肉棒往对方嘴里送。注意力全部集中在舌头上的方博一下子没有反应过来，被顶到了嗓子眼，不自觉的情况下帮许昕来了一个深喉。“嘶……”许昕眯起了眼睛，勾了勾唇角，不用于平时露出牙龈的蠢笑，方博看的有些后背发麻，还没晃过神就被许昕一把捞起，双腿在许昕腰侧，而最敏感的尾巴和股缝的连接处则对着许昕的巨大。许昕坏心眼的抬了抬腰，看着眼角犯红有些急躁的方博，“自己扩张”方博羞红了脸，却不得不屈服于许昕的淫威。刚刚在口腔里沾湿了的手指还略带着些湿意，方博有些迫不及待的就把手指伸向了自己身后的穴口。猫妖在发情期时分泌的淫液此时已经几乎打湿了花穴和小半段尾巴，两根手指几乎是没有什么难度的就进去了。“嗯……呼……”方博已经顾不上什么羞耻，似乎也忘记了许昕的存在，两根手指在自己穴内来回进出，漂亮的眼睛已经因为生理上的快感无法聚焦。许昕看着方博一个人玩的开心眼神一暗，一手把玩着方博敏感的尾巴尖，另外一只手随着方博自渎的手指深入了让方博已经欲仙欲死的地方。“啊啊啊……”似乎是因为手指进去的有些急了，一不小心碰到了方博的点，在没有照顾前面的情况下，粉嫩的前端又有了要射的征兆。许昕不慌不忙的堵住了马眼，撤出了方博体内扩张的手指，换上了早就迫不及待的分身。“啊……哈…………”方博被同时填满却的不到释放的感觉折磨的头皮发麻。本就是骑乘的体位更是让许昕的巨大仿佛顶到了自己的胃。已经没有理智的方博用腾出了的手摸了摸自己的肚子，舔了舔嘴唇“真好吃……”眼神却带着天真。许昕脑子里面的一根玄似乎断了就着这个姿势深深的挺动了起来。方博的手玩弄着自己胸口早已因为刺激而挺立的乳头，而尾巴也紧紧地缠在了许昕的大腿根。许昕此时没有什么闲心再堵着方博的马眼，把方博推到在沙发上，不遗余力的狠狠干了起来。方博的敏感点被不停地被碾压。“要……要坏掉了啊……不要…………恩…………昕哥哥”许昕被这个称呼弄得眼睛发红，非但没留情反而更加发狠的挺动。 “啊………………”方博如同一条被搁浅的鱼，被灭顶的快感折磨的眼前一白，稀薄的精液再次射出，粘在了许昕精壮的小腹。后穴因为高潮而不断的收缩，许昕也终于随着低吼，射在方博身体深处。 软了的性器并没因为情事的结束而抽出身体。许昕看着还是喘着粗气的方博伸手揉了揉可爱的耳朵，忍不住吻上了方博的嘴唇。看着方博有些无辜的眼神。许昕就着在对方身体中的姿势抱起，走向卧室。反正今天班上不了了。虽然方博的发情期快结束了但许昕的发情期，还长着呢。 |
11112672 | Building Atlantis | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Layne Ishay, Lee \"Apollo\" Adama, Sherman Cottle, Caprica Six, Gaius Baltar",
"Fandom": "Battlestar Galactica (2003)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by bikefiend",
"chapters": "30/30",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-06T00:00:00",
"words": "52,671",
"Additional Tags": "Romance, Adventure & Romance, Feminist Themes, Strong Female Characters, Science",
"Relationship": "Lee \"Apollo\" Adama/Layne Ishay",
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} | Chapter 1
The lion came out of nowhere. They had not been keeping watch, all four of them excited about the prospect of the hunt, the rich pickings around the watering hole offering possible targets even for their still inexperienced group. They had not considered that there would be other hunters present, surveying the crowd for the easiest prey. The most inattentive, ill-guarded prey. The beast crept up on them unnoticed and exploded in their midst, massive paws pushing and clawing, huge jaws roaring, golden eyes fixed on the target. Before any of them had had a chance to react, the crushing jaws were around Lewis’s neck, one strike sufficient to both break the spine and puncture the carotid artery. The blood spurted over the lion’s muzzle, and when it dropped the lifeless body and turned its head toward Lee the golden fur was glistening bright red. The glowing eyes, huge and strangely calm, were fixed on him now, and clearly the lion had no sense of urgency. Hypnotized by the gaze, Lee could only watch as it approached, halting just three feet away from him. He could smell the blood on the hot breath, and hear the deep rumbling growl emanating from somewhere low in the chest. Lee was still lying flat on his back where he had landed, his crossbow dropped several meters away. As his senses returned to him he realised that his only option was the knife strapped to his belt, and as the lion crouched, opening the bloodstained jaws once more for attack, he grabbed for the knife, feeling more than understanding where he would need to stab to have any chance. The lion pounced, and he made his move in the same moment, stabbing the knife as hard as he could upwards and to the side, aiming for the throat rather than the head. He knew that he had missed, and was crushed so completely under the weight and smell of the lion, sharp fangs scraping his face, that at first he didn’t realise that it had missed too. He pulled his arm back as much as he could and stabbed again, blind, just seeking the contact and the chance to at least make some damage, to not be sniffed out without having taken a single point. The beast didn’t move, and he was pinned down. The eyes, still open, but unfocussed. The teeth huge and red, but not moving. He looked up, and over the lion’s dead shoulder he could see Scully’s worried face. “Lee? Are you ok? Lee? Oh man.”Scully’s face disappeared and he could feel the body on top of him shift, so he pushed upwards to help, rolling sideways to get out from under it. He was covered in blood, his clothes completely soaked from his shoulders to his knees. He was buzzing with adrenalin and numb from the impact, and couldn’t tell where he was hurt. He opened his shirt with stiff fingers, but couldn’t find a wound. The blood, it appeared, all belonged to the lion. He looked down on the dead animal, a fly already settling on the open eye, and then over towards Lewis. Bram was on his knees next to him, hands uselessly pressing on his neck. It was obvious that he was dead. Lee stumbled over to pick up his crossbow, and surveyed their surroundings. Astonishingly, all other animals were still gathering, drinking at the water’s edge, slowly wandering about. As if carnage was just a part of life. “We’ve seen lions before, they usually hunt in groups. We’d better keep watch.”“Are you ok? Lewis is dead. He didn’t stand a chance, it happened so fast.”He couldn’t believe he had let this happen, a rookie mistake if he ever made one. Leaving the group unguarded in unknown territory, not keeping his weapon loaded and close by. It should be as natural as breathing after the time at war and on the run, but life here had a million new challenges and they were coming at him hard and fast. Scully was kneeling next to Bram now, speaking in a low voice. Then he got to his feet and went in search of his pack.“Bram is injured. It got him pretty bad, scratch all over the leg. Are you ok to keep watch while I sort him out?”Scully was good, focussing on the task at hand rather than the enormity of their screw-up. Bram was a trouper too – only the merest whimper drew Lee’s attention to his leg as Scully peeled the trouser leg away to investigate the wound. Three horrifying gashes ran the length of his thigh, from hip to knee, and he was bleeding heavily. He forced his gaze away from them, scanning their surroundings for more threats. A bandage and the morpha in Scully’s pack wouldn’t be enough to make those deep wounds go away. He was going to need proper medical help. As in a hospital. Antibiotics. Surgery perhaps. He was going to have to bring them back to the base camp, and they would be at the mercy of that awful woman. He had really hoped he would never have to see Layne Ishay ever again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Eleven month earlier:“Major Adama? Medic Ishay is here to see you. Again, sir.”“Alright, ask her to come in. And just call me Lee. Please?”Lee smiled, but the smile he got back from the younger man looked pained.“Yes, sir – I mean, Major Lee… I mean…”“Just ask her to join me, ok? I just need to get this stuff ready for tomorrow, but I can do two things at once.” He remained seated, carefully inserting the bolts for his new crossbow into the cartridge belt, as Ishay stomped into the room.“For someone who has allegedly left the fleet, you have an awful lot of minions to do your bidding.” He looked up at her, surprised by the animosity in her voice. She crossed her arms over her chest and levelled her cool green eyes on him.“I have tried to talk to you for days, and there is always someone trying to stop me.” Lee may have wondered about this himself, but he wasn’t about to have a heart to heart with this unpleasant woman about it.“So what do you want, Medic? As you say, I’ve left the fleet so there isn’t a lot I can do for you.”“That’s it. That’s exactly it. How can you do this? You have to see how foolish this is? You can’t just leave!” He watched her, not sure how to respond. He didn’t really know her, what was it to her? Sure, she had taken very good care of him when he got shot, but her bedside manner had been abrasive as hell. He had gotten out of sick bay as soon as he was conscious enough to force someone to disconnect the tubes.“This whole ‘back to basics’ idea – you must see how insane it is? How are people going to survive if they leave everything we know about technology and science behind?” Finally, he got it. It wasn’t him she would miss. She just didn’t like the idea of splitting up and living off what the land could offer. He set his jaw.“That’s not my decision, as you know. I suggested it, and lots of people liked the idea. We have to do something differently this time, otherwise we’ll just end up with another bunch of cylons chasing us out of this planet as well.”“That’s ridiculous!”His eyes widened. What was her problem? How dared she talk to him like this? The people around him had made sure he had all the space he wanted after Kara disappeared, watching him to assess his mood, bringing him food and water and anything he’d happened to ask for. Nobody had questioned his decision, all agreeing that it was a great idea, the only possible solution. And now here was Ishay, shouting and gesturing and calling him ridiculous? Simply not acceptable. He looked coldly at her, answering in the slow and measured manner that had so often helped him gain the upper hand in arguments.“Say what you want, but what I choose to do with my life is my decision. You and everyone else must make the choice that works best for you. Mine is not up for debate.”“But that’s just it, you’re not choosing just for you. There are people here who can’t survive without access to medication – medication that takes a community to make! There are 42 diabetics, did you know that? They can’t just go off hunting and gathering, they’d be dead within a year without insulin!”She dragged her hand through her hair in frustration, then reached out towards him, stopping her hand in mid air. “Some of them are just children.”The idea of sick kids jolted something inside him, and the questions lined up in his mind – what supplies did she need, what expertise was there to ensure delivery, what facilities were required for production – and then he rapidly shut down that line of thinking. This was the last thing he needed. What he wanted – needed – was to get away, to be in charge of himself, get back in touch with nature. Surely this was not too much to ask.“It sounds as if you are doing good work here, Medic Ishay. A lot of people depend on you. I don’t think there is much I could add, in fact, so I can’t see why you’d miss me.”He tried his most charming smile, willing her to go away and let him get on with his packing. She, however, remained unmoved, and unsmiling.“Don’t pretend you don’t understand this. If everything is a free for all, how long do you think we will be able to do our work? We need protection, rule of law, a functioning society. It’s not just about diabetes, this is about everything we have achieved as humans. If we don’t look after the knowledge we have, soon it will be lost. Who knows – even reading, writing, speaking the same language. We need you to stay here. People listen to you. They would do what you tell them – just look around you!”“I’m sorry, I really am. But I can’t stay. I have to go.”She watched him for a moment, dark eye brows slightly drawn together giving her a quizzical expression.“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I know that Captain Thrace is… gone… and that…”‘That’s enough!”. His calm had run out, and he was desperate to get rid of her. “I’m leaving tomorrow, and that’s all you need to know.”“I don’t know what you think you’ll find. You want to find yourself? You want to be self sufficient? You know, the first injury you get is going to be life threatening without antibiotics. And if you happen to survive, because you are so strong, and you have great teeth and are… “ She trailed off, looking a bit embarrassed as he stared at her, “…well, if you find a wife and she gets pregnant, did you know there is a 1 in 20 risk of her dying in childbirth?”, Ishay’s voice was louder now, red spots appearing high on her cheeks, “and it’s very unlikely that the child would live past the age of five without vaccines. Is that what you want?”“My wife”- images of Dee invaded his mind, Dee smiling, Dee crying, Dee under a sheet on a gurney “…is dead.” Lee’s chair fell with a rattle to the earth floor as he suddenly stood up to face her, his jaw clamped so tight in anger he could hardly get the words out. “My friends…” the image of Kara jumping out of her Viper, Kara against the starlit sky of New Caprica, Kara with Zak, Kara with Sam, Kara turning away… “my friends are all gone.”Ishay didn’t step back, or even flinch, but held her ground, again crossing her arms. He was glad for it, finally a chance to let the rage in his chest out, and he savoured his opportunity to direct his anger toward this mean, overfamiliar woman. “I have risked my life hundreds of times to get us here. I’ve done my bit. I don’t need you to thank me, but if you think I’m gonna let you or anyone else order me around you’ve got another thing coming.”“Do you honestly think that argument is going to work on me? Or on anyone here?” Her eyes were sparkling with fury and the flush on her cheeks was spreading down her neck. “Don’t forget that I was there too, all the way. I was in the infirmary for the final mission, and every day before that. I was even there to patch you up when you got shot!”She uncrossed her arms to jab at his shoulder, hard, right on the scar from the bullet wound. He felt the familiar thrill of anger at the violation of his personal space, and he savoured it, the provocation blasting away the rest of the barriers normally keeping his temper in control.“It’s not the same thing and you know it! That one wound wasn’t even in the top ten list of times I’ve been close to death. Not even the top fifty. You just have no idea, no idea what it’s like. I’ve had to give orders risking other people’s lives, more than I can even remember, and many of them did die. And I’ve had it! I’m through!” His voice had gradually gained in volume until he was shouting to her face. Still, she did not turn away, her face so close he could see the darker ring of blue around the startling green of her irises. His heart was beating hard in his chest, and he was feeling a bit lightheaded. This was the most he has spoken in days, and the most honest he had been in months. “Now it’s over, and I’ve deserved… I’ve deserved… some damn peace and quiet…”His voice trailed off, and he looked toward the entrance to the tent to get a break from her relentless gaze.When she spoke again, her voice was lower, but still clipped and angry.“So that’s it. You think it’s over. Well that’s just great.” She stepped back, threw her arms outwards in an unconscious gesture of frustration “Don’t you see? The war may be over, the fight against our enemies may be over, but the fight for survival? That fight is only just beginning.”“Not for me. You can count me out. I’m leaving in the morning and I’m not coming back.”A calm descended over him, the calm after a discharge of energy. He looked back at Ishay. Her cheeks were still flushed, and her chest was heaving, clearly still recovering from the emotion of their exchange. She returned his gaze for a long moment, but just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, anything, she turned around, and ducked out of the tent. Once more he was alone.
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“Ouch!”The spanner clanked to the ground as Layne released it to suck on her sore knuckle. Damn but those bolts were hard to budge. There must be an easier way to release the CO2 tubing from the inlet to the incubator, but the instruction booklet, like most other things in the universe, was nowhere to be found.“What’s up doc?” Tina entered the lab carrying a set of weighing scales. “I think I fixed it for you, but you’ll have to run through the calibration to set it up properly again. Do you know how to do it?”“No” She rubbed her knuckle on her leg, “but I’ll figure it out. Thanks Tina.”“What are you working on? Is it another incubator?”“Yes, an older one. We need all the ones we can find, but I want to disconnect the CO2 canisters. They’re empty anyway, we’ll just have to buffer chemically for now.”Tina put the scales down on the bench and waddled over, unconsciously rubbing her pregnant belly, squinting at the tubing and the valves snaking up the back of the incubator cabinet.“I’ll sort it out for you. Any other problems I should know about?”“It switches on fine, it will need a clean out with ethanol though. The major thing will be getting enough juice out of the wind turbines to keep the batteries charged.” Layne leaned back against the bench, watching Tina examine the cabinet. Tina had been part of the deck team on board the Galactica, and had proven invaluable in fixing any piece of equipment around the camp and the growing infirmary laboratory. She had brought all equipment she could get her hands on with her, and was happily adopting anything left behind by the people who decided to leave.“I’m working on a back-up battery set so we won’t lose power again. Though if you keep adding to the machine park the capacity won’t be enough.”“I want to add even more. We need more. I have to keep the antibiotics cultures running, and the recombinant protein expression. Do you think you could build one? “Tina opened the cabinet and stuck her head inside. She fished out a wind up torch and leaned in even further.“I think I could, yeah.” Her voice echoed from the back of the incubator. “I have stuff I could repurpose. It’s not a very complicated setup. But what about the cell culture medium?” Layne nodded to herself. Yes, they would need more. Even if they were careful, what they had would not last forever. They needed more, more of everything. And that meant manufacturing it themselves. They needed sodium chloride, phosphates, clean serum – the list was endless. The provision pathways she had set up while the fleet was still gathered had been torn apart by the exodus after the landing. Was there anyone still around who knew about how to find these things? How to process them? She would have to find them and get them to stay, or at least write down everything they knew before they left. There might be someone… but he’d never do something to help her. In the eleven months since the landing the base camp had been haemorrhaging people, and her efforts to make them stay had been largely unsuccessful. Most of the people who had decided to stay and work together were the ones with a personal interest, like Tina. Her partner Caleb needed daily insulin injections, and Tina would do anything to make sure the injections kept coming. She was also pregnant, and wanted to have her baby in as safe an environment as possible.“Ha! Got it!” Tina reemerged from the depth of the cabinet, a triumphant look on her face and a small screw held gingerly between thumb and index finger. “The fixes all sit on the inside, what a stupid way of doing it.”Shouting from the outside made them both look through the workshop door towards the infirmary building. A group of people were approaching and entering the infirmary.“Hang on Tina, I’ll go and see what’s going on out there.”Layne hurried over to the infirmary, where two men were depositing a third on one of the beds. The man was unconscious and his head slammed back against the bed when they others let him go.“Careful! What’s happened here? What’s wrong with him?”“He was bitten by a snake, a big one, over by the latrines. It got him in the leg, above the boot. Lammy got the frakker, but not until after he’d bitten Ash.”As if on cue, a fourth man entered carrying the dead snake. It was at least five feet long with grey and white patterns across the back and a sickly pale belly. He dropped it unceremoniously on the earth floor, and Layne could see that it was split in two parts, chopped off at the middle.The unconscious man on the bed was very pale, and wet with sweat. Yet when Layne touched him he was cold, clammy to the touch. His pulse was fast but weak, a fragile flutter under her fingertips. Shock, she thought. She put a pillow under his feet and pulled a blanket over his torso.“Give me some space please!” The men moved back, and she removed the boot and cut away the trouser leg with a pair of scissors. The snake bite was obvious, two dark puncture wounds with angry red swelling around it. Everyone was looking at her, as if she would know what to do, but she had never dealt with a snake bite in her life. She had heard of at least two cases, but both the victims had died before making it to the infirmary. The poison was already in this man’s body, and there was no anti-serum to give. What would happen next? She didn’t know how dangerous this particular type of snake was, but the patient’s breathing was laboured and shallow. He would need help with his breathing, that much was clear. She grabbed a manual ventilation bag and fitted the mouth piece over the man’s mouth and nose. She compressed it once, then counted five seconds under her breath until compressing again. This would have to do, there was no pure oxygen left. Just keep him comfortable and hope for the best – things she wasn’t very good at. Continuing to compress the bag, she turned to one of the men standing by, silently watching her work. Her eyes dipped to the name tag above the breast pocket on the army standard issue shirt. “Specialist Gage?” He looked up at her, confused. “Do you know this man?” He nodded, his gaze going back to his friend. “It’s Ash. We’ve served together for five years.”“Ok, so why don’t you take a seat? Talk to him. Hold his hand. You two-” she turned to the other men “-please wait outside.” She looked around for Raj or Wanda, but neither of them was to be seen. She kept compressing the bag, keeping an eye on his chest and the pulse at the side of his neck. Her own pulse was rushing in her ears, and her arms were getting tired from keeping up the strong compression of the bag. She could hear the quiet murmur of Specialist Gage, who was holding the patient’s hand in both of his own. He was talking about the sunshine. About building a house. About meeting a girl, about having a family. She supposed he was speaking as much to himself as to his friend now, the patient appearing completely unconscious and deathly pale. She removed the bag and pressed two fingers to his neck, but could feel no pulse. She pressed harder, her fingers shaking a bit – still nothing. Specialist Gage had fallen quiet and was looking at her. She fished out her wind up torch, and gently parted the man’s eyelid to check the pupil. It was fixed in the mid-position and did not respond to the light. Could that be due to the snake venom? Dr Cottle’s coat was hanging on the back of the door, and she got the stethoscope from the pocket. She warmed up the diaphragm on her palm, more to calm herself than because she thought it would make a difference, and then resolutely placed it on his bare chest. His chest didn’t move, and she could hear nothing. She rose and looked at his still face for a moment, then reached out and closed his eyes with her fingertips. “I’m very sorry Mr Gage. Your friend is dead. This type of snake must be very venomous indeed.”“But he’s such a big guy, stronger than all of us…? And he seemed fine at first. It was just a little bite, you know? We killed it immediately, chopped it in two.” He waved over to where his friend had dropped the remnants of the snake. He looked dazed. “I can’t believe it. To get through all of this, away from the cylon bastards… And then be bitten by a frakking snake on the way to the frakking head...” His voice broke, and she could see tears in his eyes. He stumbled forward, enveloping her in an embrace. She patted him awkwardly on the back while he shook against her, feeling very ill at ease with her head crushed to the chest of this man she didn’t know. He was very large, and smelled strongly of sweat. He is in shock, she reminded herself. He needs comfort. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you a glass of water. Do you want to speak with your other friends?” He didn’t respond, so she led him carefully back to the chair, and then went in search of water. When she brought the glass back, Gage had collected himself and was leaning back in the chair, his head turned away from his dead friend. “Don’t you have anything stronger? You have lots of alcohol here, don’t you?” He looked at her speculatively. “We need our supplies for keeping a sterile environment.” “Well, that didn’t do poor Ash much good, did it?” he said nastily, the vulnerability of a moment ago already dissipating. “Better drink it than mess about with it I’d say. That way at least someone will be better off.”She remembered the struggle for supplies after the landing, how she had tried to protect the precious alcohol supply for laboratory use. A lot of it had taken by those strong enough to help themselves. Had Specialist Gage been among them? She pushed down the instant resentment and made sure her voice was calm and reassuring.“I’m very sorry for your loss. And I am going to make an antiserum. It may be too late for your friend, but this infirmary, and the lab, are here for all of us. We may not have been able to help Ash, but with your help we will get better and better.”Raj entered the infirmary, stopping dead upon seeing the bits of snake on the floor. He quickly assessed the situation, his eyes seeking out the dead man on the bed and the live one sprawling in the chair next to him. Then he looked at Layne, slightly lifting one eyebrow. An almost imperceptible movement with her chin was enough to convey the message to Ray, and he stepped over to Gage putting a hand on his shoulder.“You ok mate? I heard what happened, I’m so sorry about your friend. Good on you for getting the snake, it’s big one too. Are those your guys out front? Do you want to come and talk to them?”He guided Gage outside to relay the news, leaving the door open and Layne alone in the infirmary. She slowly covered the dead man’s face with the blanket, and then closed her eyes briefly, hoping to regain her balance and decide what to do next. The snake. Right. She grabbed her note book and approached the dead snake, crouching down to sketch the shape of the arrow shaped head and the pattern on the back. The body was thick and muscular, with a menacing air even in death. Layne felt the hairs on her neck rise as she forced herself to slowly stretch out her arm to turn the head over.“No!”She pulled her arm back as if burnt and froze, lifting her eyes to the doorway. The silhouette of a man was outlined against the bright sunshine.“Don’t touch it – they can bite even after they’re dead. I’ve seen it.”She rose slowly, straining her eyes to make out the features of the man in front of her. That voice… Then he took a step further into the room, and she saw him more clearly. His face was very tanned and streaked with dirt, making the startling blue of his eyes even more striking. He watched her impassively, waiting for her to react, but in the corner of her eye she could see his jaw clench slightly. “Lee Adama. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
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The journey back had only taken 6 days, but they had not been easy. On the second day after the attack, Bram’s wounds had become inflamed, and the morpha had quickly run out leaving him to deal with the pain unaided. They had fashioned a stretcher out of two sinewy tree trunks and one of the sleeping bags, and had carried him like that from sunrise to sunset, all the time on the lookout for potential threats. They stopped to fill their water supply and at one point to snare some rabbits, but although unspoken, the need to keep moving was at the forefront of both men’s minds. As the infection got worse, Bram was sustaining a high fever, and spent many of his waking hours in a confused state. From the fifth day they had thought he might not survive, his fever raging and the exhaustion from dealing with the pain so clearly taking a toll. The men had taken turns keeping watch, but Scully had not slept much even when it was his turn rest, instead watching Bram and attempting to reduce his temperature by changing the wet cloths on his forehead and chest. Lee had felt useless, the only thing he could offer being keeping a fast pace to get him closer to the base camp, to the promise of treatment and rescue.Seeing him resting comfortably on one of the beds in the infirmary with an antibiotic drip in his arm was as close to contented as he had felt in a long time. Scully was asleep on the chair next to him, his large body and long legs sprawled at such impossibly uncomfortable angles that just watching him made Lee wince. Layne Ishay was changing the drip bag, and then touched the back of her hand to Bram’s forehead to check his temperature. Pleased, she tucked the blanket in securely and turned to Lee.“His temperature has gone down a lot. He must have a great immune system to hold the infection off for this long. It’s a good thing you got him here when you did though, or we wouldn’t have been able to clean the wounds and stitch them so well.”He was so tired, so to-the-bone exhausted, that just listening to her voice had a hypnotic quality. He knew he should say something to respond, but he couldn’t. He just looked at her, and it was a bit like looking and listening through water. A small crinkle appeared between her eyebrows as she studied him. Then, her hand was on his neck, a strong thumb on his jaw, tilting it to the side.“The lion got you too? What’s this?”He tried to answer her, opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words. Her hand was steady, warm and dry against his throat, and he leaned into it slightly, closing his eyes. Then she was supporting him, dragging his arm across her shoulders to walk him to an empty bed. He allowed her to carry much more of his weight than he normally would have, the embarrassment and resentment still gnawing away, but at a level of his consciousness that was in this moment completely bypassed. So tired. And so peaceful in the shady infirmary, with the clean beds and the tidy shelves. So comforting, to be held up and then deposited by her strong and capable arms, his shoulders pressed down on the mattress, his boots efficiently removed.“Are you hurt? Is there something wrong with you?” Her face was very close, the crinkle between her eyebrows more pronounced now. Again he tried to answer her, but he didn’t know what to say. Yes I am hurt. Yes there is something wrong with me. Please just press your hand to my forehead and hold it while I sleep, so that my head doesn’t explode. He closed his eyes as she started opening his shirt, and then he was asleep.When he awoke, at first he didn’t know where he was. Light streamed in through the windows, and he could hear voices and scraping sounds from somewhere. The infirmary. Base camp. Right. He could smell cooking, and realised that he was hungry. Bram was sleeping in the bed across from him, a drip still in his arm and a peaceful expression on his face. They must have dosed him up on morpha, because Lee could see blood seeping through the bandages where they had performed surgery on his leg. That would hurt. He put on his shoes but stayed seated for a while, weighing up his options. He may have been out of it last night, but now he was rested and the embarrassment of the situation, and the potential problems, were considerable. He had thought about this during the journey back, about how he would have to apologise and prostrate himself for his behaviour before leaving the camp, anything to get Bram the treatment he needed. No reproaches had been made when admitting him into the infirmary, but he was under no illusion that he had heard the end of the argument that had been abandoned rather than concluded several months previously. Layne Ishay would definitely take their return as an admission of having made the wrong decision, a concession that organised society was a better way of life. He could hardly say she was wrong. But the thought of resuming his role within this society, the ever present expectation, the sometimes sickening deference coupled with incomprehensible blame for things he had nothing to do with – it filled him with dread. He owed them now, he understood that. He would have to offer something in return for Bram’s treatment. But it didn’t have to be a complete return to how things used to be. He would have to keep his wits about him, and negotiate something that could satisfy all parties. Help with a particular project perhaps, something defined. Not get drawn back in.He rose, and winced at the stiffness in his body. He saw how dirty his hands were, realised just how filthy and smelly he must be, and in the same moment, realised just how close Ishay had been to him last night. She had more or less carried him to this bed. The embarrassment that didn’t trouble him then rose in his chest now, but he was determined to tamp it down. I may owe her. But that doesn’t mean I have to give up everything.He rose and walked through the door through which he could hear voices, and entered another, smaller room. Scully and the man named Raj, whom he had met when entering the camp, were seated at the table. Scully got up and gave him a hug, and it felt good.“Lee, man, you were so out of it! I was too, I fell asleep on a chair. I’m all lopsided!” He grinned, and clapped Lee on the shoulder. “But we did it! We got him here, and he’s gonna be fine!”Lee smiled at his friend, his happiness lifting his own spirits. Scully didn’t seem to blame Lee for the attack, although Lee certainly blamed himself. If only I had planned better, he thought, for the hundredth time. Then he would have been fine all along.Raj offered his right hand to shake, and then a mug of soup with the left. “I’m Raj Kumar, it’s nice to meet you. I didn’t get a chance to greet you properly yesterday.”“Lee Adama, it’s a pleasure.” Lee accepted the mug and inhaled the steam coming off the top. It smelled amazing. “Thanks for this, it’s been a while since we had a chance to eat. Is that… Is that an egg?” Raj smiled. “We’ve got chickens! The earthlings came to check us out, and they realised pretty quickly that our medical care was useful. They don’t have anything like it, although they’ve been giving us some advice on plants to use. They have given us some really great stuff in return. My favourite is the chickens!”“I think my favourite thing is this bath house you told me about” said Scully . “I really need a wash, and to clean my clothes.” He turned to Lee. “Apparently we can use it all, as long as we carry water and fire wood to refill the stores. Did you say you had some soap Raj?”“Well, it’s soap – but perhaps not what you expect it to look like” said Raj, and walked over to a shelf to fetch a large bowl. The content was grey and greasy-looking. “It’s ashes mixed with animal fat, it works for cleaning. But it’s not… it’s not…” His voice faltered, and he just held it out to Scully. “You are welcome to use it if you like.”“You made this yourself? This is so great, thanks!” Scully’s genuine gratitude and sunny smile filled Lee with warmth towards the man. Not for the first time he thought how much easier everything is when you’re surrounded by positive people. Scully certainly was that, no challenge was to great, no problem impossible. A grey and horrible-smelling mess? A wonderful opportunity to get clean! Lee turned to Raj.“So you are making quite a few things here yourselves?”“Yes, we try to. We are making penicillin and insulin in the lab, and we have to make everything we need to keep the process going. We have a wind farm to generate electricity, so we can keep our fridges and other stuff working. We even have a freezer in the lab. But every day we realise that there is something else we’re running out of or that we didn’t even have in the first place, and so many of the folks who could have helped have left already.”“The Medic performed surgery on Bram yesterday. Where is Cottle? Did he leave too?”Raj’s eyes briefly flicked to another door that Lee had not noticed before, and then back to Lee. His voice was lower when he answered.“Dr Cottle is not very well.” He hesitated, again casting a quick glance toward the door, “We all knew he had had lung cancer for a while and we don’t have anything here to treat it with. He’s still helping out though, he’s teaching students over in the school about anatomy and stuff. When he’s well enough that is. These days he mostly rests.”“I’m sorry to hear that. I’d like to see him later if that’s possible.”“No one is going to stop you – I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see you! I’m sure everyone will be really excited that you’re back, it will be really great for morale. I can’t believe there’s an Adama back in the camp!”Lee stopped the wince that spontaneously formed on his face and forced a friendly smile instead. Raj was a good person, someone who was willing to work hard to help others, and he was clearly willing to listen to Lee for direction. He didn’t need to know that this was the last thing Lee wanted, or felt he deserved. Lee cast around for a way to take the conversation in a different direction, and remembered the mug of soup in his hand. He took a deep swig, enjoying the heat and the fragrant saltiness.“This soup is fantastic, thanks. And a wash and some clean clothes would be really good too. But I don’t want to leave here without thanking Medic Ishay for her help.”“That’s right” Scully echoed, “I’m so grateful for the help we’ve had, it’s almost too good to be true. What you’re doing here is amazing, I can’t believe how much I took it for granted before. I’m definitely sticking around to help, whatever you need man.” Raj and Scully beamed at each other, as Lee’s gaze flicked between them. Of course Scully would feel like that. His feelings for Bram, and Bram’s for him, had been obvious to both Lee and Lewis although none of them had ever talked about it directly. In fact, Scully was the only one in the party who had talked much at all, keeping the rest of them entertained or distracted or, in Lee’s case, able to withdraw in his own thoughts. Scully had left with them because he went where Bram went, but he was someone who thrived in the company of others and would be an asset in any society.“I’m sure she’d be really pleased to hear that, but she’ll be in the atlantis for the rest of the morning. We have to scrub in to do cell culture to keep the infection risk down, so once you’re in you stay in until the work is done.”“She’s in the what?”Raj gestured to the second door, the one Lee had noticed earlier. He saw a sign on it saying ATLINTIS in bold letters, followed by and even bolder STAY OUT!!!. “That’s what she and Wanda call the cell culture lab. It was kind of a joke – they both did their PhD training at the Astrios Transcolonial Laboratory for Infection, Tumour and Inflammation Studies in Delphi, so when they set up the lab on Galactica they named it ATLINTIS. It being all that was left of medical science from all the colonies.”So she wasn’t a medic by training, that made sense. He wondered briefly how she had ended up working with Cottle when she so clearly disliked working with people, but dismissed the thought. They had all ended up doing work that didn’t suit them. He found himself to be both relieved and disappointed not to see her this morning, having steeled himself for the encounter. But looking over at Scully the realisation of how filthy they both were hit him afresh, and the promise of a bath house was irresistible. He rose, placing the mug on the table, and leaned forward to shake Raj’s hand once more.“We’ll be back later then, to check on Bram and” he nodded vaguely towards the ATLINTIS door, “see the Medic again. Thanks a lot, we really appreciate it.”Walking though the camp Lee noticed details that he had not seen the day before. The buildings were all rough prefab panels clearly salvaged from the fleet, but there were many, and they were organised in a practical way. Outside the infirmary there was an open space with a large tree in the centre, in the shade of which a group of people were working. As they approached they saw that they were taking apart scrap to salvage materials. To the right was a building with large doors wide open, and they could hear children’s voices from inside. Patterns were drawn in the dirt outside, and drawings covered the wall facing the forum. A school. There were several more buildings facing the forum, but Scully lead them south, along a wide road lined with smaller buildings and some tents. Another, larger square opened up, with a well in the centre. Solar panels were organised around the well, and water was pouring out of several faucets into the waiting buckets. On the other side of the well, an open structure consisting of a large roof covered in solar panels held aloft by pillars stood on an elevation, with washing lines covered in colourful towels flapping merrily in the breeze. A man was busy hanging up towels on one of the lines, and Lee and Scully walked over to him. Scully gave him a beaming smile.“Hey, this wasn’t here when we left. Is this the bath house we’ve heard so much about?The man looked proud. “Yes, it was only finished last month. Everyone helps to collect water and fire wood for the hot water, but as long as you help out you’re free to use it. Do you have soap and towels?“We have soap, check it out. But no towels, we lost them.” They had used the towels to cool Bram during the walk back, they were unrecognizable as fleet property now. Still they should have brought them. Everything had a value here.“No worries, I can issue towels. In exchange for some help of course – can you come on the fire wood collection run this afternoon?”“Yeah, great!” Scully looked as if he had never heard of anything more thrilling than a fire wood run in his life. Lee hid a smile and nodded. It would be interesting to see how they had organised such a thing.A woman’s angry voice made them turn around. The people waiting in turn at the pump had been joined by two men driving up in a fork lift. Lee recognized it as part of the machine park on the Galactica’s maintenance deck. “You can’t just muscle in ahead of everyone to charge this thing! We have been queuing, and we need water!” “Come on, it will only take thirty minutes! These batteries belong to everyone right? You can’t monopolise them.” The two men were tall and intimidating, in faded military outfits. “You have to wait your turn, just like everyone else!”The tallest man languorously stepped right up to the woman, and leaned in to smirk in her face. “So make me.” She straightened her back, but still only reached up to his shoulder. She took a step back, and as Lee and Scully had walked over to join them, she stepped right onto Scully’s foot.“Sorry Ma’m. I didn’t mean to get in your way” He gave her one of his most dazzling smiles. Lee, meanwhile, was not smiling. “What’s going on here then?” His eyes sought out the name tags on the shirts, and he vaguely recognised them. They were part of the old Pegasus crew. “Petty Officer Vireem. Private Tanner. Are you trying to push ahead in the queue?”“Commander Adama! I mean… Major Adama, sir. I thought…” Private Tanner was shuffling his feet, a complete change from his confident demeanour a moment ago. “We thought you’d left, sir”.“I’m here now.” He narrowed his eyes at them “And I’m not happy to see members of the fleet use their power to get unfair advantages.”He turned to the woman, who was clutching her bucket to her chest while watching the interaction. “Is there a time when the demand is not as high at the pump?”She nodded. “At mid-day it’s very hot, so people prefer to be in the shade.”Lee turned back. “That sounds like a good opportunity. Any equipment that needs charging should be charged at mid-day, then it can be left in the heat while everyone seeks shelter. Return in…” He glanced at his watch, “three hours, and you can have your thirty minutes of charge.”Petty officer Vireem stole a glance at his companion, but Private Tanner stared right ahead in concordance with military protocol. “Yes sir!” he whipped out smartly, and turned back to the vehicle. Vireem turned too, but with less enthusiasm. Lee’s face remained impassive as he watched them retreat. Then he turned to the bath house manager. “Does this happen often?”He spread out his hands. “Well, yeah. Nobody quite knows how things are supposed to work now. Just after the landing everyone was still doing things the way we had gotten used to – you know, following the rules. But now people are beginning to realise how changed the situation is. That if you’re strong enough there isn’t necessarily anyone who can stop you from taking what you want. Even if it isn’t yours.”The man gestured back toward the bath house. “But we are also doing great things. This here, it belongs to everyone, and it’s good for everyone! As long as there are enough of us here who work together, we’ll be able to resist.”Lee was about to follow him back towards the bath house, when the woman lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned back to face her.“You’re Apollo. I recognise you now. Thanks for standing up to those men. I know you saved us all many times during the Exodus, you and the other heroes on the Galactica. I just want you to know how much it means to know that you’re still here protecting us. I’d vote for you as president again. Any time.” She smiled, and rubbed his arm lightly. “Welcome back!”“Thanks. I appreciate it” he said mechanically, but remembered his manners and smiled back at her. As he again walked toward the bath house he contemplated the absurdity of the situation. That he should be able to put a couple of brutes like Vireem and Tanner in their place when others failed. He hadn’t done anything more than the woman had done. Less, in fact. But the authority of his name, his reputation, had changed the power balance, given hope to the people waiting for water and made the big strong men turn on their heels. It was ridiculous. It was a power he didn’t want. But it was clearly a power that he had.
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Layne placed the final plate in the drying cabinet and closed the hatch. Once the liquid had evaporated, the penicillin would crystallize and could then be collected and stored for future use. She carefully sprayed all surfaces with ethanol and wiped them down, adding the rags to the lab-laundry. They would have to be boiled before being used again. The lack of a steady stream of disinfectant and single use consumables meant compensating with cleaning and laundry. And the two chambers of the lab had to be kept separate, there must be no contamination with the penicillin mould in the transgenic cell culture. She removed her head scarf, the gloves, the coat and placed them all in the laundry bag, and then tied it up to bring outside. Her neck and shoulders ached after spending several hours in front of the cell culture hood, pipetting the antibiotics solutions for harvest and seeding new cultures. She rolled her shoulders while washing her hands thoroughly, all the way up past the elbows.Raj was in the back room when she entered, spooning a fragrant vegetable casserole into a bowl. “Hey, you hungry? This is some of the crop from the garden. It’s a new recipe, and it consists only of stuff I don’t know the name of. And some Caprican pepper of course.”“It smells good. I’m prepared to live dangerously if you are. What about our patient – has he eaten anything?”“I gave him some first of all. And he’s not dead yet so I think it’s safe”Layne laughed and reached out for her bowl. “How is he?”“Good. I checked the bandages, they’re fine, but I’m going to change them now just to make sure. He’s still on the drip, but I guess he could move on to oral soon.”She chewed thoughtfully. “How are the others? His friends? Adama passed out last night, but I think it was just exhaustion. I couldn’t find a mark on him except the cheek. And the older stuff…” her voice trailed off.“Checked, did you?” Raj’s eyes were glittering and she swatted at him. “He basically fainted in front of me, what was I supposed to do?” She was blushing. This was ridiculous.“They seemed fine, very grateful, wanted to thank you, but I said you’d be in the lab all day so they might as well do something useful. I suggested having a bath.” He wrinkled his nose. “They liked the idea. But that was hours ago, so I guess they must have been waylaid. A lot of people here will recognize the great Apollo. I could hardly believe it was him this morning, I was a total fan boy.”“He must have loved that.”“Nah, he seemed really awkward actually. The other guy though, Scully – he’s great! He seemed really happy to be back among people. Anything you need, he said. He’ll help out. Come to think of it, Adama said nothing of the sort, he just wanted to get out of here.”I bet he did, Layne thought, wolfing down the last of her casserole and getting up to rinse her bowl outside. He’d been desperate to leave a year ago, and although his friend’s injury had brought him back there was no reason to expect his attitude to have changed. It would be so useful to have someone around with his automatic authority, to keep rogue elements in check. The former army guys, with their semi-walled compound and growing sense of entitlement – they didn’t listen to Layne or Calum or Deidre. They only came out when they wanted something, like care for the snake bite yesterday. But Lee Adama – him they would respect. Him they would listen to. Setting her bowl to dry on the bench along the back wall, she stood in the shade below the awning looking out over the baking hot yard. It had grown gradually hotter and hotter over the last few months, and the vegetable patch was wilting, in desperate need of water. They’d need more provisions for proper irrigation. Drill more wells, build more solar panels. The salvaged ones were already working hard for them, every one they had had been mended and adapted. To expand they would need to build new ones from scratch, which meant… She was staring out across the low wall at the back of the yard, at first failing to take in what she was seeing. Some very tall creatures were approaching from the open plain, their features distorted by the hazy heat. As they came closer, she realised that they were in fact people, perched atop of the most extraordinary creatures Layne had ever seen. Honey coloured, with four long large-jointed legs and long shaggy necks. Their eyes were large and semi-hooded, giving the animals a regal air. The four earthlings were sitting on their backs, between two big humps on the animals’ backs. Like a seat created from flesh.Layne stepped out from the yard and walked toward the small party, raising an arm in greeting. “Molo”, she said, with an uncertain look at the front rider. She had tried to pick up some words from the earthlings, but now had no idea if she had just said was indeed a greeting. The front rider showed no sign of having understood her, with her face half covered in the leather hood of a large cloak. She made a clicking sound, and as the animal she was riding on sank to its knees she slid a leg over the front hump and glided off in a smooth motion. She took a step toward Layne, and pushed the hood from her face. Her eyes were large and dark, and her skin was as dark as that of all the other earthlings Layne had met before. Her hair was braided close to her scalp, with blue markings carefully painted along the partings. She was as slight as a child, at least a foot shorter than Layne, but fine wrinkles around her eyes indicated her true age. She raised her slim right hand with the palm facing forward. “Molokunjani”Ok, that sounded similar. A greeting then. Layne nodded and waved a little, not comfortable enough to try to repeat the phrase. She considered asking them to wait a moment while she went to get Calum. He had taken a great interest in the earthling language, and was collecting as many words as he could.“Atlantis?” The woman was looking at her intently, raising her eyebrows. She gestured to her companions, and as one they all clicked and dismounted their mounts as gracefully as the leader had done a moment before. “Laleh” A man stepped forward, and as he approached Layne realised that he was carrying a child, who was looking at her from behind the hide she was wrapped in. The man placed the child on the ground, and unceremoniously lifted away the hide. The child was very slight too, and Layne couldn’t guess her age. Then she smiled, and Layne spotted the two large front teeth. Six or seven then. She was almost naked, and Layne could immediately see that her tummy was swollen. Probably a worm infection. It was hard to know whether the girl’s growth was stunted as she was so slight, but Layne bet a stool sample would confirm the presence of worms. She raised her eyes to the leader again. “Atlantis?” she said again, now pointing to the child.Atlantis… what would that mean again? It did ring a bell, she must have heard it before. She was about to turn around to go get Calum when it hit her – ATLINTIS! She turned again.“ATLINTIS? Infirmary?” She pointed to the little girl’s tummy. “Medicine?”The woman smiled, showing a lovely smile with some missing teeth. “Atlantis.”Layne nodded. “Come with me.” She motioned for them to come with her into the building, and the leader turned around to give instructions to the rest of the party. They grabbed the reins of the animals and retreated toward a clutch of trees behind the washing lines. With one last look at the astonishing animals, Layne turned around and led the leader, the man and the child through the back room and into the infirmary. Raj was removing Bram’s bandages, but got up immediately when the new party entered. He smiled at everyone, raising his hand. “Molo, Molweni!” Layne saw his gaze drop quickly to the child’s tummy. “Why don’t you come over here, that’s right, and how about a gown for you as well, just to keep nice and warm…” He got a gown from one of the cupboards, and with careful gestures got her to raise her arms and slip it on in no time. It completely dwarfed her small frame, and she was pinching it curiously. Layne was struck, as she so often was, by how quickly Raj could read situations and communicate with people. Layne had not given a single thought to the fact that the child was almost naked among strangers, or how to make her comfortable.“I’ll get everyone some water.” She went into the back room, her mind whirring. It would be impossible to know what parasite the girl had without analysing a stool sample. But the idea of explaining something like that through the medium of mime made Layne snort while pouring the water into three mugs. It was possible that the child had several parasitic infections, and that whatever they found would not be the agent causing the symptoms. She returned to the infirmary, where all the earthlings were now looking at Bram’s leg. The bandages were off, and the three long neatly stitched gashes, although healing nicely, looked terrifying. There was a hush in the room. “Lion” said Bram, “Attacked” he made his hands into claws and roared and clawed in the air. The child’s eyes widened. “Lewis, my friend…” he showed his teeth and roared like a lion again. “Lion”.“Ngoniyama” the old woman said quietly, walking over to Bram, hovering her hand above his exposed wound. Layne was about to tell her not to touch it, when she pulled her arm back and instead put her fingertips on Bram’s forehead. “Banyuliweyo” she said, lightly pressing his head back into the cushion. “Ngoniyama banyuliweyo”. Then she laughed, a surprisingly delighted, filthy cackle “Mlehkazi!”. Her big grin was infectious, and Bram smiled too. “Thank you!” he said.Layne handed out the mugs of water and went to stand by Raj, next to the bed of the little girl. “I think the best thing to do is just to give her a course of anti-helminth drugs, without bothering to diagnose which one it is. Most are treated the same anyway, and we only have the Meziquantel.”“I agree. But another thing is to make sure she doesn’t get re-infected. If she goes walking in sewage without shoes she’d get it again.”“Do you think Calum could explain? Or perhaps you could draw it on the whiteboard in the school?”“You do it! I’m not drawing poop in front of people I’ve only just met! “You’re so precious Raj. It’s all just natural bodily functions, and ones you should be grateful for.”“Yeah yeah yeah, I’m grateful, but I have to draw the line somewhere. I’ll get the treatment started, and get her some food too. You think about the public health side of things. And don’t forget to be grateful!”She rolled her eyes at him and stepped out into the forum. She immediately spotted Calum and Tina, sitting in the shade outside the library. She raised an arm in greeting. “Molo!” Calum grinned. “If you’re greeting both of us, it’s technically ‘Molweni”. But still – pretty good!”“I hear you have Bram Sawyer in there” said Tina. ‘How is he?”“Oh, he’s doing fine. It’s lucky for him that his companions got him here in time. In fact, right now he’s entertaining some Earthling patients with stories of his adventures.”“Does he speak their language?” Calum looked interested.“Not a bit, I’m afraid. That’s why I need your help. I have to explain something to them. Can you help me?”Calum rose and brushed some crumbs off his trousers. “I’d be happy to try. But I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be”“Oh trust me. You’ll be very helpful.” Layne grinned.
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It was mid afternoon before they made it back to the infirmary, having cleaned both themselves and their clothes and also participated in a joint fire wood run. Lee felt that he could have used another shower after the vigorous chopping and carrying that Scully had coaxed him into, but they were both keen to check on Bram and Lee’s thoughts kept returning to Ishay. He told himself that there was nothing he could do to change their previous interaction, that he had pissed off plenty of people in the past, but somehow he could not dismiss the image of her angry face, her accusatory tone, and unfortunately, his own emotional outburst. It wasn’t something he was proud of. He felt that in showing her his anger and despair he had shown her too much of himself, and he hated that circumstance had brought him into her debt. Her, of all people.Bram was awake when they entered, and Scully was at his bedside in three long strides. Lee walked up behind him, catching Bram’s eye over Scully’s shoulder and reaching in to clasp his hand. “How are you doing?”“Hurts like hell” Bram grimaced, but it turned into a smile. “That hard-ass medic said she can’t give me any more morpha, so I’m just gonna have to tough it out. But I’m happy to be in pain if it means that I’m alive.” He tucked some of his long black hair behind his ear and glanced down on his damaged leg, which had been re-wrapped in fresh bandages. “Thanks for getting me back here, I can’t believe you guys carried me all the way.” He turned his gaze to Scully, and his smile widened. “Hi honey” Lee was a bit taken aback, as the two of them had not ever been explicit about their relationship before. Although the marine corps didn’t overtly discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation, there had always been plenty of prejudiced people around. Many adopted a position of don’t ask- don’t tell just to be safe. Lee was happy that they were both here, and alive, and finally ready to be more open about their feelings. He withdrew slowly, realising that in this moment his friends only had eyes for each other. He looked into the pantry, but it was empty, and he headed back outside. He heard banging from the next building along, and he put his head through the door. A small and very pregnant woman was hitting a large sheet of metal with a sledge hammer. She looked up, and he recognised her immediately.“Tina! It’s good to see you! Wow…” He gestured vaguely towards her, not quite knowing how to finish the sentence, “You look well!”Tina dropped the hammer and came up to him, enthusiastically shaking his hand. “It’s great to see you again, sir. I hear you got into a bit of trouble out there.”“Yeah, we did. Did you know Lewis?” “I did, yeah. I’m so sorry. But I’m glad you made it back, and that you got Bram here in time. Layne said that he is doing really well.” She smiled, and then looked over his shoulder. “Oh, there you are! I was wondering what had happened to you.” A slim red haired man had entered the workshop, carrying a whiteboard. “Did you manage to help Layne with whatever it was?”“I think so, yeah. But she ended up doing quite a bit of drawing. And miming.” He chuckled, then looked over at Lee.“Oh, sorry – this is Major Lee Adama. Major, this is my husband, Cal” Calum shook his outstretched hand “Of course I know who you are, it’s nice to meet you! We have your law books in the library, actually.”“Really? You’ve held on to those books? Why?” “Well, we can’t take the knowledge we have for granted. It has to be preserved somehow. We may not be in the Colonies anymore, and we may live in…” he gestured outside, “unusual circumstances, but eventually people are going to need laws. And we have lots of other books too – anything that could potentially be useful.”“Cal is a librarian. He takes care of all books we have here, and writes new ones too.” Tina looked very proud. “He’s writing an Earthling thesaurus!”“I learned a few new words today actually.” Calum looked rueful. He glanced down on the whiteboard. “I should write these down on paper before they get smudged.”They all stepped outside, just in time to see Ishay come around the corner of the lab and infirmary building. She was leading a huge honey coloured creature, which walked behind her in a way that could only be described as dignified. The animal looked calmly at them under half lowered eyelids, further contributing to its superior appearance. Ishay, on the other hand, looked excited. The hair around her face had come loose from her ponytail and was sticking to her sweaty face. “Calum! They gave me one of them! They insisted!” She stopped and looked up at the animal in awe. “Have any of you ever seen anything like it?” They all shook their heads. “They called it a… CHKamella…” she tried to add the Earthling click to the front of the word. “CHKamella. I suppose Camella is ok. So it’s a camella. And it’s mine!” She grinned at them, and Lee suddenly found that he couldn’t breathe. In all the years he had known Layne Ishay, he had never seen her smile before, and it was amazing. Her whole face was transformed, the severe dark eyebrows lifting, and those remarkable eyes glittering an unreal turquoise in the strong sunlight.“Yours?” Tina laughed. “So now you’re going to have a pet as well? You’re already working all the hours of the day, when are you going to find time to throw bones for your camella to catch?”Ishay didn’t stop smiling, just turned and patted the animal’s neck fondly. “She’s not a pet, she’s a working animal. She’s just what I needed. A domesticated large animal. I’m going to use her to make serum for snake bites.”Calum looked appalled. “And here I thought you’d grown a soft side. You’ve found a completely new species, and you’re going to… Experiment on it?”“What else would you do? She’s amazing, I want to know everything about her. She won’t mind.” She turned her gaze to Lee, and immediately looked more serious. “Bram is doing very well. He’s a poster boy for antibiotics.”The loss of her smile felt like a physical loss to Lee. He wanted to see it again. “I wanted to find you earlier, to thank you. We’re really very grateful.”She nodded. “Don’t worry about it. It’s what we do here.” She looked very serious now, not breaking eye contact, “but there is something I would like from you in return.”Here it comes, he thought, unconsciously pulling his shoulders back. Medic Ishay, as blunt as ever. He could see a small smile curl the right corner of her top lip, and then quickly being pursed down. “There is someone whose help we need. He’s a chemical engineer, and we need chemicals now to keep our cultures going. And he’d listen to you, not me.”Both she and her camella fixed him with equally cool stares, and he felt a giggle rise in his throat. He cleared it. “That’s it? I talk to this engineer guy, and that’s all you want from me?”“Well, that depends.”“Depends on what?”“On how grateful you really are I suppose.”He gave her a long look. Was she playing with him? She wasn’t very easy to figure out. “Doc?”They all turned to see Specialist Gage approach, a heavy keg in one hand. “Hey doc, thanks for yesterday. Thanks for trying with Ash.” He held out the keg towards her, and she hesitatingly reached out a hand to take it.“What’s this?”“It’s hooch – I mean alcohol. Ethanol. Pretty pure stuff. We’re making it – well, Tim Hallam is – and you said you needed it so... Here.” He motioned with the keg towards her again, and this time she grabbed the handle, the weight of it too great for her to hold up. “Oh, sorry. I’ll carry it for you. Where do you want it?”The camella snorted and he appeared to notice it for the first time. “Bloody hell! What’s this?”“It’s my camella. Thanks for this, that’s really very thoughtful of you.” She turned to Lee. ”Tim Hallam is the man I would like you to talk to actually. He clearly needs something important to do.”“We’re burying Ash this evening. I wanted to ask you to come. Perhaps you could say a few words?”Lee saw how Ishay’s features tensed. She didn’t like this, not at all. “I’m not sure I’m the right person – I didn’t know him…”“I mean – you cared for him at the end, and you’re a pretty important person around here.”She set her jaw, but Lee could see the whites of her eyes. She doesn’t like public speaking, flashed through his head.“I’ll do it” He spoke before he knew he was going to. “You’re talking about Ashok Varma? Who died yesterday? I was his commanding officer aboard the Pegasus, it would be my honour to speak at his funeral.”They all turned to look at him, Gage only now registering his presence. “Major Adama, sir! That would be really great.” He didn’t look too pleased though, and immediately looked over to Ishay. “But will you come too? It would mean a lot to Ash.” Like hell it would, thought Lee. He looked at the man with more attention. Gage. Specialist Gage in fact. He remembered him from the Pegasus, but couldn’t quite place him. Somehow, he didn’t like it that he was here giving presents to Ishay.“Of course. I’ll be there. And thanks for this”, she pointed to the keg, “it’s a very useful present.”“All right. Six o’clock at the burial site. Then send off drinks at the compound.”“Thanks Mr Gage”“Call me John!”But she had already turned away, back towards Lee. And she smiled.
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The hooch in her mug was of very high quality, that was certain. Mixed with fruit it was not unpleasant, but what gave her the most delight was that there was now a supply of very pure alcohol fit for laboratory use. She would just have to test it a little bit more to make sure.Lee Adama’s eulogy had been surprisingly heartfelt and well balanced considering how little time he had had to prepare. She had felt so elated by the stroke of fate that made him step forward to speak rather than her, that for a moment she forgot what funerals were like. The truth being that they are not great. By the time the funeral party made it back to the inner patio of the compound, she had felt raw and emotional, and had gratefully accepted a drink. She had kept to the fringes, sipping her drink and watching as people circulated under the lantern lit pergolas. At the centre of it all, always sought out, always with more people waiting on the side for their turn, was Lee Adama. She enjoyed studying him, trying to get an idea of how that magic worked that made people flock to him. It seemed so natural, a smile here, a hand shake there, a brief pat on the shoulder. He didn’t speak much, just gave his full attention to whomever he was speaking to at that moment. Making them feel special.“There you are! I found you some more punch, here.”Absentmindedly she took the glass and put the empty mug down. John Gage kept finding her, offering her more drinks, pieces from the roast, a more comfortable seat, and she kept finding excuses to get away. At one point she had spotted Tim, on the other side of the of the patio. Of course she’d seen him regularly around the camp, but she had made a point of not studying him. But now he was her mission. He looked quite a bit older than she remembered, but then who didn’t. She giggled to herself, drained her glass and gave it back to Gage, then strode purposefully towards the gravitational centre of the space. She tapped his shoulder lightly, and when he turned around she lifted an eyebrow and nodded in Tim’s direction. `’Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Without waiting, she turned and led the way, sensing rather than knowing that he was right behind her. “I thought you’d gone.” He had to raise his voice for her to hear him over the din and the music. “It’s a bit wilder than your average funeral reception.”“And leave you alone with your fanclub? No way.”He paused. “I seem to know almost everyone here. Lots of fleet people.”“Yes, they are. Many of them have secluded themselves in this ‘compound’, where they make their own rules. They don’t really listen to anyone who isn’t fleet. I’ve never even been inside before.” She stopped suddenly, so that Lee walked into her back. She swayed slightly. “Whoa, you ok there? That punch is pretty strong stuff” His hands came up to steady her shoulders for one second, and then they were gone. Perhaps she had just imagined it. She briefly closed her eyes and shook her head slightly to clear it.“See the man with the white hair? Over by the massive stack of solar panels?”“Yeah?”“That’s Tim Hallam. The chemical engineer. The hooch brewer. I’m going to ask him to perform a survey of the surrounding area for likely extraction sites for sodium choler… sodium chrol… SALT. Yes. Salt. And phosphates, and metals, and lime. And to make a plan for how to purify and refine the raw materials with only what we have or can make on site.” She swayed again, and this time his hand stayed on her arm. It was warm, and she could feel his arm behind her back, a solid warmth to lean against. “I’m a bit tipsy. I haven’t had alcohol in ages, unless you count the time I sprayed some up my nose in the lab. But that was an accident.”He heard him snort softly behind her, and felt the warm puff of air over her cheek. “This all sounds a bit complicated – are you sure this is the best time to do this?”“I could do this in my sleep Adama”, she stated boldly, grabbing his hand and dragging him the last ten steps over to the solar panels and Tim the hooch brewer.“Hi Tim”, she said, not wasting any time. She had the courage, she had her secret weapon. Better not think about it too much. “What’s a nice man like you doing in a creepy compound like this?”He looked at her is surprise, then over to her companion, and then back to her again. “Layne. You look…” His gaze dropped to her washed out ink stained khaki shirt, and then back to her face.“It doesn’t matter what I look like. This is Lee Adama, former Commander, war hero, deliverer of eulogies, I’m sure you recognise him?”Tim looked genuinely pleased. “Major Adama, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you. And what you said at the funeral – it was a great speech, a really great speech.” He shook Lee’s hand enthusiastically, and several people who were standing near them turned around and took the chance to do the same. Layne thought that a few of them had done so at least twice before. Lee gave her an imploring look. “So Tim, Lee and I were talking, and I was saying what a great chemical engineer you are.”“Yeah, she did say that” Lee agreed, nodding exaggeratedly. “You did?” Tim looked confused.“Yes, absolutely. And Lee here, he’s very interested in chemistry, and all the things we need for the ATLINTIS and the infirmary, and he was saying, how do we make sure that we can continue to get this stuff?“I did” Lee nodded severely.“And I said, well Tim is the guy for you. He knows this stuff. He was the chief chem officer on board the tylium refinery, and he’ll know all about how to mine and refine the things we need.”Tim Hallam looked at Lee, delighted. “Absolutely! Not many people understand how interesting and important these processes are, but it doesn’t surprise me that you are one of them.”Lee cast a long look at Layne, who smiled serenely. Then he turned his attention back to Tim. “I am, as a matter of fact. I want to know where we are most likely to find good sources of the things we need. I want to know what resources we will need to get to them, and to refine them to a state that is good enough to use.” He looked over to the bar where boisterous funeral goers were asking for refills. “You clearly have a superior method for distilling alcohol, and I’d really like to know what else you can do.”Tim clapped him on the back, beaming. “Well, let me get you another drink, and I’ll tell you all about it. I already have plenty of ideas!” He pulled Lee toward the bar without a single glance back at Layne. Lee, however, did manage a look back. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question, and she laughed. Yes, he had done well. She was pleased and a little annoyed at the same time. She couldn’t believe how easy it had been, how little encouragement and persuasion it had taken. Tim had practically fallen at Lee’s feet, he’d been so eager to talk about his craft. It might be tempting to think that he would have done so regardless of who had come asking, but she knew better. If she had tried it herself it would have been very different. She could see him by the bar now, sweeping his arm up in a grand gesture in front of a bemused-looking Lee. Tim probably didn’t realise it himself, how seduced he’d been by the attention of the great Adama. Those impossibly blue eyes, so very hard to look into. So very hard to look away from. She snorted, and swayed again. Lords of Kobol, no frak that, by the PERIODIC SYSTEM, she was drunk. She saw John Gage making his way through the crowd, and decided that now was a good time to duck out of this funeral party.
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Lee looked over toward the solar panels again, but this time, she was gone. He could see Specialist Gage, a head taller than almost everyone else in the courtyard, surveying the crowd with a forlorn look on his face. Lee turned his attention back to Tim Hallam, who was describing the initial survey reports that had been prepared for the area in preparation for the landing. There were abundant sources of metals in the mountains to the west, lime to the north, and salt flats to the east, although extraction there would be somewhat seasonal. Right now would be a good time actually, as it was the driest time of the year. He was excitedly detailing the minimum requisites for a scouting expedition. “We’d need to bring some vehicles, and probably solar panels to charge them. But Bella and Jonathan would agree to us taking them, I’m sure of it.” Tim ran a hand through his white hair, making it stand in all directions. “Will you come with us? We certainly could use your skills – not to mention your enthusiasm about chemistry.”Lee thought for a moment. It sounded… interesting. It was stimulating to be involved in a project again, to have complicated problems and to think about solutions. A little bit more wouldn’t do him any harm. “Yes, that would be very interesting. I would like that!”“Great! It will take a few days to prepare for it though, I need to think a bit about potential purification processes and get gear together.” He stared off into the distance. His lips were moving. Was he counting under his breath? “So, do you have a lot of vehicles in this compound?” Lee asked innocently.“Yes, absolutely. We made sure we got our hands on as much of the useful stuff as possible before and after the landing. We have great weapons and loads of ammo too. We look after each other in here, it’s good place to be. We have a hunting group and a building group. And a brewing group! You should come and join us, this is definitely the place for you.” Tim looked delighted with his new idea. “Thanks, I’ll think about it” Lee looked out over the courtyard, taking in the amount of cables and solar panels, the lanterns in the trees, the insect catcher lamps. The fridges by the bar. They certainly were looking after themselves. But it wasn’t for everyone. He remembered Ishay’s words. They don’t listen to anyone who isn’t fleet, she’d said. They make their own rules. And apparently, they had weapons. He thought back to the situation he’d witnessed by the pump earlier, and then thought of weapons added to the mix. This could get messy.“I’m thinking four days” said Tim, rousing Lee from his unpleasant train of thought. Four days to get everything prepared. But it’s the Landing celebration on Sunday, and it will be hard to get anyone to leave before then. I think we should aim for Monday, at a reasonable time. All things should be enjoyed in moderation” He looked around at the crowd, a proud smile on his lips. “Even if it is a very fine product indeed”Lee smiled and held up his mug. “So say we all!” He drained it, and put it on the bar. “Monday it is. After Landing Day.”Tim raised his mug in turn, and after shaking his hand Lee turned and made his way through the crowd. He had done his duty and then some, and he was exhausted. The eulogy had drained him. The fear and urgency of the march back and caring for Bram had put the grief over Lewis at the back of his mind, but the funeral had brought it all back and he had at last experienced the enormity of the loss. His words may have been at Ashok Varma’s grave side, but they were spoken for Lewis Green, whose own service had been brief and grim. “Apollo!” He looked over to the right, and saw Brendan Costanza lingering in a door way.“Hot Dog! It’s good to see you!” Lee’s eyes dropped to the bundle Brendan held in his arms. He smiled. “Gods, he’s so big! Soon he’ll be carrying you.” Brendan hoisted the sleeping boy up on his shoulder, kissing his sweaty temple. “He’s a big lump, that’s for sure. I’d better get him out of here before it gets even more rowdy, but I didn’t want to leave without saying hey. That was some eulogy you did, the best I’ve ever heard.”“Thanks. It wasn’t just for Varma, but for… everyone we’ve lost. A lot of people now.”“Yeah, that’s for sure. I dunno, I’d thought that once we got down here everything would be easy. But it’s still pretty damn hard.”“So you’re part of this compound then, you and Freddy? That must be… nice.”Brendan looked thoughtful. “I guess. For some things, of course. But…” He looked around “At the beginning, I thought that everything would get better, you know. But it sometimes feels as if they’re just getting worse. As if the wrong people end up making all the decisions around here.” Freddy whimpered in his sleep, and buried his face against Brendan’s neck. “It’s really good to see you Apollo. I hear you’ve had quite the year, but I’ll make you tell me all about it some other time!” He winked, and turned to take his child off to bed. Lee looked after him for a long moment. He realised how dark it was outside, and how difficult it was going to be to find his tent. It had been made abundantly clear that he was welcome to stay here, and it was certainly the route of least resistance. But…“Hey, you’re looking very thoughtful.” A woman with short red hair a big beaker in her hand was smiling at him.“Hi Tamar. It’s been a long day.” He smiled ruefully. “In a long week. I’m off to find my bed.”“Would you like to find mine instead?” She leaned in, all of a sudden very close and very soft. He could feel her breath on his face. It smelled strongly of alcohol. He wondered how Ishay was doing. She’d been pretty wasted, the way she’d grabbed his hand… He smiled. Tamar’s smile broadened, and she leaned in further to kiss him, and he pulled his head back as if stung. Panic rose in his chest, and feelings of guilt saturated with images of Dee and Kara flooded his mind. No, not this. Never again. “Um, thanks, but… I think I have to get back to my…” Get back to my what? This was so embarrassing. “I have to check on my friend!” Excellent, that’s exactly what he should do. Even if that friend was fast asleep. He smiled apologetically. “Thanks.”“Any time Apollo. So do you want to borrow my torch?” She held up a small wind up, and the look of relief on his face was enough to make her laugh. “Just make sure you bring it back, ok? These are worth their weight in gold around here. I’m not giving it to you unless you give me something very good in return.”He shook his head and smiled. “You’re insane. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.” He walked off towards the main gate.“Good night Apollo!”He lifted one arm and waved, without turning around. Then he disappeared into the night.
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The hum of the flow cabinet was quite soothing this morning, the repetitive movements of the pipette into the flasks, refilling the insulin pens, a comfortingly familiar ritual. She had not had alcohol in a very long time, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had been hung over. But now she had. And she was, just a bit.She counted the pens again, just to make sure, 40, 41, 42, great. And two extra just in case. All here, a neat row of their joint effort, another month of life saving insulin. People would be starting to drop in for collection soon, so she had better get them all into the infirmary. She looked forward to hearing the news form the satellite camps and the farms, and to perhaps see something new. Last time she had been given a clutch of fragrant waxy yellow fruit, which when peeled revealed pale and delicate flesh. It was one of the nicest things she had ever tasted. “Layne? Are you awake?” Wanda’s voice came through the door. “Are you lying face down in the cultures in there?”“Very funny.” Layne muttered. “I’m coming!” she called, transferring the pens to a basket and spraying the hood with a generous dousing of ethanol. She winced at the smell. Better keep it for cleaning. She shut down the sterile hood, closed the hatch and switched off the battery next to it. A final look around assured her that everything was in order, and she headed to the door and cracked it open. “Here are the pens. I’ll just wash up and change, and I’ll be right out.”Wanda grinned at her. ”Raj said you were hung over. How are you feeling?” “I’m perfectly fine. I was in the fleet compound last night, and you’d never believe the stuff they have in there. They have more solar panels than the rest of us together. And they distill excellent ethanol, which is great news.” She frowned “As long as they are willing to share.”“Is it true that they have fridges?”“Loads. I’ll tell you later!” She shut the door and went to remove the gown and shawl that covered her hair. She looked over towards the bottles of fresh cell culture media neatly stacked on the shelf, and then to the lower shelves that contained the supplies for preparing it. They had been brimming a year ago, it had been hard to find enough space for storage and even harder to imagine ever running out. But now there was plenty of space on the shelves. Recalling Tim’s delighted face when quizzed by Lee, she hoped yesterday’s efforts would prove rewarding. To think that Tim would prove to have such a thing for the military, and for male authority. Perhaps she should have guessed it. He had always treated her with mild disdain, making her feel as if what she was doing was pointless and that her questions were inane. She had always accepted it, expected it even, as he was so much cleverer, so much more experienced. She had been excited to learn from him. But she had been younger then, not just in years. She had been angered and amused to see Lee’s questions, if anything less insightful than hers ever were, answered with care and respect. She shook her head. She couldn’t for the life of her remember what she had seen in him, how she could have been so infatuated. It was as if she had been a completely different person.She was just about to leave when she remembered the agglutination assay she had set up earlier. Eager to learn more about the camella, she had taken a small blood sample when putting her out to graze the day before to assess the antibody content in the serum. The agglutination assay, testing the ability of the antibodies to bind and neutralise a parasite, had incubated for two hours now. A quick peak before heading outside wouldn’t hurt. She picked up the plate and held it up to the light. She saw a beautiful agglutination, totally dose dependent and indicating high titres of antibody. A pleased smile quirked her lip, and she was just about to flick the contents out when her gaze fell on the heat inactivated control. Now what was this? The boiling should have inactivated the protein, making it incapable of binding anything. Yet the agglutination of the parasite-presenting chicken blood cells was as potent in those wells as it was in the assay ones. She thought back to the process. She remembered putting the samples in the heat block, setting the timer, even smelling the distinctive smell of burnt dust from the block. What if… what if… she looked back to the wells. The hairs on her fore arms stood up, the dullness of the hang over swept away by a surge of adrenalin. What if the camella’s antibodies were heat resistant? They were smaller than human ones, she knew that from the mass spec she had done the day before. If they could retain their binding properties even at denaturing temperatures? The possibilities were endless. They could be boiled. They could be stored out of the fridge. They would last and last, just the sort of robust reagent required in the camp. She felt the thrill of the discovery course through her, the sharp energy of it making her realise just how much she had missed it. This. This was why she had become a scientist.Outside in the forum there were lots of people talking and laughing, greeting each other. The roasting pit was being set up for the barbecue, and the new arrivals were placing their brought goods on the tables in the shade under the big tree in the centre. Some men were suspending large tarpaulins to extend the shade. The fire wood detail were bringing more fuel for the fires, and the cooks were bringing joints of meat through from the larder which had been brought in by the hunting detail. Insulin day was a day they all looked forward to, as a chance to meet up, hear news, and share the bounty of the different outposts and the ATLINTIS. More people were taking part now than those who needed to hand in their used pens and pick up the new supply, and the crowd seemed to grow every month. Layne saw Wanda standing with her basket by the infirmary door, placing the old pens in a basket by her feet and giving out new ones as people came up to her. Layne walked over. “Has anyone had any problems with their dose?” It was important to keep track of how people were managing their blood glucose, especially when they were all so spread out. “Raj is inside talking to Mira. She’s worried about Carys, she’s apparently being difficult and sloppy with her measurements and injections.” She glanced over to Carys, who was chatting happily with some other children in the shade outside the school building. “It might just be puberty kicking in. Poor kid, it’s enough of a nightmare without having to deal with checking your blood all the time.” She rolled her eyes. “But otherwise, no problems so far.”“Maybe Raj could talk to her as well. If anyone can convince her to take better care, it will be him.”She looked over toward the barbecue pit and saw Lee and Scully pulling in a large cart of dry wood for the fires. They saw her approaching, and Lee grinned. “Good morning! Isn’t this a bit loud for you?”She smiled, her new discovery a glowing little secret making her immune to any jibe. “I’m tougher than you think. But what about you – isn’t this a bit menial for you two?”Scully wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Well, if you have a job peeling grapes somewhere, bring it on. For now, we have to help out wherever we can to earn our keep. We’re going on the salt mining expedition, but that’s not for another four days.”Layne raised her eyebrows. “You’re going with him? Both of you?” She shifted her eyes to Lee, who nodded. “Yeah, it seemed…” She couldn’t stop a big grin from spreading on her face, and he stopped talking. His eyes were intensely blue. She swallowed hard. “I guess I was more grateful than I realised.”She laughed. “That’s fantastic. I’m sure it will be a success now. I wish I could go with you, but I can’t be away that long from here.” She turned to look out across the forum. “It’s insulin day today, and then the work to prepare the new batch starts. Never ends.”A man carrying a large back pack approached them. He was dusty, and collapsed on a chair after swinging the pack off his shoulders. Scully grabbed a jug of water from one of the tables and poured him a mug. “Arnold! You’re early, you must have run here.” Layne took the mug from Scully and walked over to the man “Here, drink this.” “I hurried, that’s true. We found a big snake under the chicken coop this morning, and I need to get back to deal with it. I don’t want to leave it to anyone else. But I didn’t want to miss out on the library either!” He drained the water and sighed contentedly. “And I need to get Ed’s insulin as well. I’ve brought you some more of those bananas you liked.” He opened the backpack, but Layne was not interested in the fruit any more.“A big snake? Is it grey and white? Hang on.” She ran into the infirmary, and quickly came back out with her note book. “Does it look like this?” She held out the drawing she had made of the snake that had bitten Ashok Varma to Arnold, and he took the note book from her to take a closer look.“Yes, that’s the shape of the head. We’ve seen them before, they like the eggs and the chickens too, so you have to keep an eye out. Irhamba, the Ubuntu call it. Horrible creature.”“And it’s still there? Under the chicken coop?”“It’s happy there for now. It doesn’t know that I’m on my way back with a big shovel.”“I’ll come with you. That snake is exactly what I need, I’m going to catch it.”All three men stared at her. “There’s not a lot of meat on it…” offered Arnold finally. Lee and Scully laughed, and Layne rolled her eyes. “No no, I want to catch it to harvest the venom. You know, to make anti serum.”“Anti serum?”“Antibodies. So that when someone gets bitten by one of these, I can give the antibodies, they neutralise the venom, and they survive.” She looked at them expectantly. “It’s a great idea!” she added defensively as the men failed to express the enthusiasm she had expected.Lee and Scully exchanged a glance, and Arnold looked doubtful. “I had one bite my boot once.” Lee said. “It was…” remembered the panic, the instinctive revulsion he had felt seeing the contortion of the muscular body and the surprisingly hard impact of the head on his ankle. He shuddered. “They’re dangerous. They kill people, look what happened to Ashok Varma.”“That’s my point!” Layne said impatiently. “That’s what we need to do something about, right?”“Right.” Lee looked at her for a moment. “I’ll come with you. If that’s ok.”She opened her mouth to let him know where to stick his patronising attitude, but remained silent. He didn’t look disrespectful. He looked… She blinked. His eyebrows remained lifted, waiting for an answer.“I suppose I could use the help.” She nodded. “Thank you. We’d need some protective clothing then. And a box to carry it in. I have to find Tina.” She looked into the distance, worrying her lip. “Tina’s got some flight suits in there, that would work. Those fangs would have a hard time getting through that.”“Good idea. You get that, I’ll find some sort of box to keep it in. With a lock.”“Well I’ll go get a new book”, Arnold muttered. “Not that anyone cares!”, he added, more loudly, to their rapidly disappearing backs. Then he nodded to Scully, and walked off towards the library. Scully shrugged, and grabbed a banana. Someone had to eat them.
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Looking into the crate of abandoned flight suits was more emotional than he had realised. Athena. Hot Dog. Hornet. The names he found were a potent reminder of the ones that were not there anymore, the suits that had not been around to be discarded. His riffling hands were slowing down, a nugget of unease growing in his chest. There might be something green and slippery hiding in that crate, a flight suit with a name he didn’t want to read. A name that would bite. He swallowed and renewed his efforts. Apollo. He would have recognised it even without the name tag in the collar. The scratches next to the tag, the mended cuff, and, yeah. The patch on the leg. He didn’t feel nostalgic. It would still fit, that would do. He flung it to the side, then turned toward the crate again. He could just pick one off the top for Layne and be done with it. But there was someone else in the room with him now, hovering just behind his shoulder. Come on Lee. What, are you afraid? He drew a deep breath, and grabbed deep in the crate. Narcho. Cakewalk. Dewey. Starbuck. Starbuck. He lifted it and smoothed it out awkwardly. It was just a dumb suit, all distorted from lying in a crate for so long. There was a sticky stain all over one thigh, and without thinking Lee lowered his nose to sniff it. Pineapple? Ah – booze of some sort. He laughed to himself in the murky cluttered workshop, and it stuck in his throat. How could this crumpled suit, this fake pineapple scent, ever have belonged to a… what, an angel? Some kind of spirit guide? How could someone with such an overpowering physical presence just disappear into thin air. He hadn’t been able to make sense of it then, and he still couldn’t. But then he had never been able to fully understand her. She had been a drunk, a daredevil, a bully, but also wise far beyond her years. A comically fickle lover and a fiercely loyal friend. He had never quite known which Kara he was dealing with, trying to manage his expectations, adjust their relationship to a sustainable level, but then unable to resist when she would choose him. And desperately unhappy when she would reject him again. He folded the suit slowly and put it back in the crate. Athena or Cakewalk would be ok for Ishay. Give her Hot Dog! flashed through his head, and he scoffed, and patted Kara’s sleeve. “I wouldn’t get away with it”, he said softly. He grabbed some gloves and headed back out into the sunshine.Tina was attaching a Perspex lid to a box outside, then testing the clamps that would keep it shut. She looked up as Lee came out of the workshop. “This should keep it shut, but I would tie this rope around it too, just to make sure.” Ishay came around the corner, leading the camella. It had large saddle bags hung on either side, balanced in the space between the humps. “That’s a great box. Could you drill some little holes in the lid, so that it can get air?”“Sure, I just have to wait for the drill to charge. What do you think of this?” She held up a six foot long pole with a wide two pronged fork on the end. Ishay nodded, then looked at Lee. “What do you think?”“The stick is to hold it down? And then one of us grabs it, and puts it in the box?” It sounded absurd when said out loud. But he had done worse.“That’s the extent of my plan, yes.”“It’s good I found some thick gloves then. Take a look at these. I didn’t know what sort of size…” his voice trailed off, and he just held out the flight suits towards her. She handed him the leading rope for the camella and held up first Athena’s and then Cakewalk’s suit to her chest. The camella eyed Lee haughtily, and he felt self conscious holding the rope. He couldn’t remember ever being this close to a large animal. The camella seemed to sense it, and was pulling away. Ishay clicked her tongue to get her attention, and then stuffed Cakewalk’s suit into one of the saddlebags. “These are really good! I’m so glad you kept them Tina.” She held out a hand to Lee, and he gave her his suit as well.“I seem to remember someone making fun of me and said that I was a crazy hoarder lady. Hmm, who was that again…” Layne laughed. “I take it all back. Clearly everything can be useful.”Arnold joined them, with a pleased smile and a nearly empty back pack. “Ah, you’ve got one of those now. I’ve seen the Ubuntu ride them. Very useful.”“So how far are we going?” Lee asked.“We’re going west, towards the mountains. The farms are in the foothills, it should take about four hours without much to carry.”“Farms?”“Yes, the land is a bit better for cultivation higher up. Not as dry. We grow oats and wheat and maize, and we’ve started coffee and tobacco too. And we have all the bananas you could eat Layne.”“Once I’ve got my snake in the box, there is nothing I want more.” She finished cramming the box and the ropes into a saddlebag and turned around. “Is Mrs Baltar still there?”“Yes, very much so. She’s the one most keen on growing coffee. She wants wine next!”“Ok, I just have to get one more thing.” She ran swiftly into the infirmary. “Mrs Baltar? Is that…?”“The cylon lady, yes. They’re very happy it seems, always talking nonsense.”Baltar. A farmer. Cylon number 6, a farmer. Growing coffee. He shook his head, then patted the camella fondly on the side of the neck. She didn’t seem so unusual any more, in the grand scheme of things.Ishay came back with a cold pack, a medi kit and two canteens full of water, which she stuffed down into the nearest saddle bag. The camella accepted stoically. Then she grabbed the snake catching pole. “Let’s go! Lead the way Arnold.”The road leading out of the camp was wide at first, and Lee walked next to Ishay trying to see how she led the camella along. “You seem to know what you’re doing with that animal. You’d never guess you’ve never done it before.”“Oh I’ve done it before alright. Just not with one like this. I grew up on a farm on Aerilon.”“You did?” Lee couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice.“Yes. But I left when I was twelve, to go to school on Picon.”“What, none of the schools on Aerilon were good enough?” Lee mocked good-naturedly.“I got a scholarship to Eleusis.” “Eleusis!” He shot her a sideways look. “Should I call you mylady and ask the butler to bring the anthosmias?”She snorted. “It wasn’t like that. Well… Not all of it. I just knew I wanted to go to the best school, that’s the only one I knew, so that’s what I decided.”“Why?” He had asked because he wanted to know, but also as a natural flow of the conversation. Her pause made him realise that the answer might be more personal, and he looked at her again.“Aerilon is a big place. But it’s mostly poor, and superstitious, and backward. A lot of the things you’d take for granted, like common sense, cause and effect, don’t really matter there.” She wiped her forehead with her sleeve, and pressed the straw hat back down on her head. Her eyes were in shade. “My mum died when I was eight. In childbirth, just after. They said it was the will of the gods, that there was nothing to do, but I found out that it was totally preventable. I just used the school library, and found out about puerperal fever. And antibiotics. That there were people on other colonies who didn’t live like we did, who thought about things and came up with solutions rather than just leave it all to the gods. So I worked as hard as I could to learn everything I could get hold of, and I wrote to Eleusis and asked how I could go there. I did my entrance exams, got the grades they wanted, and got a scholarship. I didn’t realise until afterwards that that wasn’t how most of the students gained entry to Eleusis.” She chuckled. “Most of my class mates had lives I had never even imagined. Houses, travel, money. Huge libraries, many of them. I’d never seen anything like it. Many of them didn’t even appreciate it, but I did. I never went back to Aerilon again.”“I’m sorry about your mom.” “Thanks.”They walked in silence for a while.“So you really wrote to the Eleusis Boarding School when you were eight? To ask how to get a place there?”“I was nine, but yes. They even sent me books.”“And then you worked in a rural school on Aerilon to prepare for the entrance exams, and got the marks? That’s incredible.”“Every teacher in that school helped me. Most of the children didn’t attend regularly, they’d be taken out whenever they were needed for the farms, so the teachers liked helping me.” She was quiet for a moment. “I took it for granted then. But I wish I had gone back to thank them properly. At least once.”“What about your dad?” Now he knew this question was personal, but he couldn’t stop himself.“No.” She shook her head and said nothing more. The path was narrowing now that they were well away from the camp. Lee drifted to the back of the party, with his cross bow held in one hand, rather than slung over a shoulder. He wouldn’t be caught by surprise again.
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The cool breeze rustled the leaves of the banana trees, and dried the sweat on Layne’s forehead. She took a deep swig from the canteen and closed her eyes, enjoying the shade and the breeze for a moment. “Daddy! Daddy!” Two children came running along the track leading up towards large log cabin with a deep wrap around porch. “Did you get a mystery to read to us?”“Of course I did! And I’ve brought some visitors as well – Edward, this is the doctor who makes your insulin.” Edward stepped forward and grinned at Layne. “I remember you from before we came here. Thank you for giving my insulin to daddy.”Layne shook his hand. “It’s my pleasure Edward. I remember you too.”“Who are you?” The little girl was looking frankly at Lee.“I’m Lee. Lee Adama, it’s nice to meet you.” She shook his hand seriously. “I’m Lizzie.”“Lee and Layne are here to see our snake.” The children looked at them with big eyes. “You came all the way here for that?” asked Edward. “We get them all the time. They like eggs. Daddy just chops them in two with a shovel.”“I want to catch this one”, explained Layne. “I’m going to bring it back to the camp and use it to make a medicine against snake bites.”“I’ll show you where it is!” said Lizzie excitedly, and turned to run.“No you won’t.” Arnold grabbed her and swung her up on his shoulders. “You can watch from the porch.”They walked up to the house, where Arnold’s wife was waiting. She came towards them and gave Layne a hug. “Layne, it’s so lovely to see you!” She looked at Lee. “Julia, this is Lee Adama. We’re going to catch your snake.” Julia shook Lee’s hand, but looked perplexed. “Mummy, they’re making a medicine!” Lizzie clung to her mother’s arm.Layne was unsure what to do next. It had seemed simple enough plan, but it was becoming real a bit too quickly. She nodded to herself. First things first. “We should change. Into those flight suits, and gloves. Then we’ll go and find it. Arnold, do you have any long sticks or such to scare it out with?”“Sure, I’ll find something. The sooner we get it out, the sooner we can let the chickens out. They must be starving in there by now. Ed, can you get some water for the…” he looked at Layne.“Camella”, Layne filled in. “It’s a camella.”“What’s her name?” Lizzie asked. Layne stopped for a moment. A name. She hadn’t thought of that. She looked over at Lee, and found him looking at her. She lifted her eyebrows in a silent question. “Penelope”, he said. “Definitely Penelope. She looks at me just like my high school literature teacher used to.” She laughed, and he smiled at her. It made her feel better.He helped her lift the saddle bags off Penelope’s back, and get the gear out. She held up Cakewalk’s suit. “Right. Is there a trick to it, or does it work like I think it does?” She looked over at Lee, who was pulling his shirt over his head in one motion. Her breath hitched, and she looked away quickly. So no trick then. He was undressing quickly, completely used to shared facilities, and she did the same although she felt selfconscious. Surely she could keep her underwear on? She stole a quick glance and saw he was pulling the suit on over his boxers and tank. Thank Demeter. She pulled on the suit and pulled up the zipper, already feeling overheated in the insulating material. She took care to lace her boots up properly, and clicked the cuffs on the wrists tight. When she rose up, he was already done, leaning on one of the porch posts and looking out across the farm. Arnold was walking toward them with a shovel and a pitch fork.“Are you ready?”No, she wanted to say. “Yes.”Lee held the snake catching pole out towards her. “How do you see this panning out? We flush it out, you pin it, I catch it?” She shook her head. “No, the other way around. Your aim must be pretty good, right? Pin it just behind the head. I’ll keep the box open next to us, then I can put it in, and you can close the lid.” She swallowed. “More or less.”He held her gaze for a moment, then he nodded. He pulled the pole back, and held out the gloves to her. She put them on, making sure they were completely joined up with the cuffs of the suit. The gloves, which had seemed so thick back at the camp, felt flimsy. The chicken coop was very quiet although all the chickens were inside. They know, Layne thought. The base of the coop was close to the ground, with a narrow space underneath. She could see nothing under there. “Are you sure it’s still there?”“No snake has left without encouragement before, but no, I can’t be sure.” Arnold shook his pitchfork. “We’ll soon find out though!”“Arnold, I want you to stay back now. Lee and I are more protected, we’ll do this. We should have taken a suit for you too, but it’s too late now.” Lee was inspecting the coop, dropping to one knee to peer under it. “I can’t see anything. But the ground is flatter on this side. If you stick the fork under from the other side to chase it out, I’ll stand here and wait. I’ll shout the moment I see it.”Her heart was beating fast now, and the hairs on her neck were rising. Images of the triangular thick head of the snake that had killed Ashok Varma flooded her mind. She grabbed the pitchfork from Arnold. “I mean it – get back!” she barked. She stepped around the coop, and took a deep breath. She angled the pitch fork, and attempted a shallow stab into the darkness. She waited. Nothing. She swallowed, and tried again, a bit deeper this time. Nothing from Lee. Oh, to hell with it. She dropped down on one knee, and swiped with the fork from side to side.“Whoa!” She heard Lee’s voice, and Arnold shouted, “Here it comes!”She rose too quickly, and the blood drained from her head so she saw dark spots in front of her eyes. Grabbing the corner of the coop for support she propelled herself forward, around the side, and saw Lee leaning on the pole holding the open fork across the neck of the snake. The irhamba was thrashing to get free, the coiling body a display of pure muscle. Layne threw herself forward, grabbing just behind the fork with her right hand and further down the body with her left. “Do you have a grip, do you have it?” Lee shouted. “Yes!” Lee lifted the fork, and the snake was in her hands. It was encircling her arm with its tail, grasping for purchase and making it hard to hold on to the squirming form. Straining, it opened its jaws to display the horrific fangs. She tightened her grip, unable to resist the panic although she had thought carefully about not hurting the snake before. Right now, it was all about survival. Lee slammed the box down next to her. “In with it! Layne, now!” She more threw than released the snake into the box, and Lee shut the lid the second the snake hit the bottom. He flicked the clamps shut one by one, pulling his hand away when the snake’s head hit the transparent lid right next to his fingers. He stepped away from the box, and all three of them watched it in silence. Another thud shook the box as the snake tried to get out. “Well. That was… ““Yeah.”Arnold was pleased. “Well done! I must say I prefer the shovel method myself, but to each their own.” He stepped forward and peered into the box. “Not the biggest one I’ve seen, but a nasty fellow nonetheless.” He carefully stepped around the box and unlatched the coop, and the chickens came running out in a sudden cacophony of clucking.Layne’s legs were shaking and she felt sick. She leaned forward, put her hands on her knees and focussed on her breathing. She felt exhilarated that she had caught the irhamba, but she had been unprepared for the primal fear of the encounter and her mind was still boiling with images of snake. Lee cuffed her affectionately on the shoulder. “That was some move!” She nodded, not trusting her voice. “From now on, this is your suit. See this?” He pointed to her upper arm, where a patch was stitched on. It depicted a snake. She had not noticed that before. “This used to mean Viper pilot, but I guess it means Viper hunter now.” His eyes were glittering. “If I had a cigar I’d give it to you.”The thought of cigar smoke made her feel even sicker, and she puffed out her cheeks and looked away. “Hey, you ok?” Lee grabbed her shoulders gently and looked at her intently. Then he chuckled. “First mission. Of course.” He looked around. “Come on.” He turned her around and wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her to a fallen tree trunk. “Sit down. You’re too hot, take the suit off. Like this, ok.” Lee was peeling his suit off, tying the sleeves around his waist. “I’m gonna get you some water, hang on.” Layne closed her eyes and unzipped her suit, enjoying the breeze on her skin as she slowly shrugged out of the sleeves. “Here you go.” Lee was holding the canteen in front of her, and she grabbed it as he sat down next to her. “So you’re not affected by this sort of thing then?” She took a swig. “It’s just business as usual?”“Well yeah. More or less. You do know what I used to do right?”“Is this how it felt?”He was silent for a moment. “I don’t want to diminish your efforts or anything, but it was much worse.”She felt silly. Of course it was. “Right.” A distant thunk made them both look up, and she saw the box shake. He shuddered. “Some similarities though.” He grinned at her. She handed him the canteen and he drank deeply. She watched his adam’s apple moving as he swallowed, his jaw throwing a sharp shadow on the golden skin of his neck. A drop of water trickled down his chin into the hollow at the base of his throat, and she forced her eyes away before they followed it run any further. The breeze rustled the leaves of the banana trees in the grove and the canopy of larger trees just behind the cabin. The vegetation continued up toward a gentle hill top in the east, and beyond it higher peaks beckoned, blue and hazy in the distance. All around them they could hear the hum of bees and wild bird song contrasting to the clucking of the chickens.“It’s lovely here. Did you come this way at all, on your travels?”“No. We went north at first. The landscape was more open. We found a lake, a big one. You couldn’t see across it, but the water was sweet, not salty. Lots of fish. Lots of other things too.” He moved his boot as a chicken tried to get a seed out from under it, and the chicken turned and fled. “We were laying a net one day, close to the shore because we didn’t have a boat, and I saw a log floating on the water. I didn’t think anything of it, but then I realised it was swimming towards me. It was a… some sort of animal, with huge jaws, I think half the thing was just jaws, and it wanted me for dinner. It got pretty close, it had eyes just like a snake. You know, with the flat pupils.” He held up his hands, showing a narrow space between them. “Terrifying. We kept watch after that. We saw lots of amazing animals too, there were these birds, bright yellow birds, that built nests that hung like fruit in a tree. I spent days watching them, trying to figure out which one belonged where.”“Is that where you were attacked?”“No, no. That’s… I don’t know, but several weeks of travel at least. When it became drier again we wanted to hunt and we went with the animals. We had left the lake then, wanting to… explore…” His voice trailed off.“How did you find your way back?”“We were making maps, taking notes of everything we saw. I’ll show them to you if you like, although it doesn’t cover much yet. I’ll make notes to add this bit when we get back.”“I’d like that. I’ve never been out of the camp before today. I knew things were different here, but I hadn’t seen it. I’m glad I have now.”“You’ve never been away from the camp?”“I’ve always been needed. For the work in the infirmary, but especially in the lab. Only Wanda and I know how to do it. But we are training some more people now.” It was a different kind of fear, she thought, the constant worry just after the landing that something would happen to the cultures, that something would go wrong in the lab and all their hard work would be destroyed. Leave people without the treatment that they depended on. That fear had been gradually muted as they made progress, but it was never quite gone. The clean sharp fear of the snake, and the relief after having caught it was a much less complicated set of emotions.“So once you have trained them, you should explore. There’s an amazing world out there, and I’ve only seen a fraction of it. You should come with me.” His eyes were so blue, and a thrill of excitement rose in her chest for just one moment. Then she forced it down and made her voice steady and reasonable. “I couldn’t. I can’t. No matter how many people I train there will always be things that need to be done. Things that only I can contribute.” She rose, tying the sleeves of the flight suit around her waist like he had done earlier. “Speaking of which, it’s time for our second assignment.”“Second assignment? You’ve already caught a snake, what else do you want?” He screwed the top back on the canteen and peered up at her.“This may be even more difficult. I have to speak to the cylon.”
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Julia and Edward showed them the way, but not until after insisting they stay for some food. The meal had been delicious, with sweet corn, chick peas and okra cooked in oil and spices followed by mangoes. After a year of living off hunting and foraging, as satisfying as it had been, the change was enjoyable. After leaving Penelope with some fresh grazing and the snake secured in its box, they had set off up the path, further into the hill side forest. “It’s not far”, Julia reassured them. “We decided to all stay close to each other here, so we can take on big things like building and harvest together. It’s just around that bend.” She pointed up to a clutch of banana trees.Layne shaded her eyes to see where Julia pointed, and then set off.‘Hey” Lee called softly after her, and she turned around. “I guess I should tell you – Baltar and I – we’re not the best of friends. We’re ok I guess, but depending on what you need I may not be very helpful to you. Do you really want me there?”She looked at him for a moment. “Why?” Then she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not friends with him either, I often think he’s ridiculous. He’s an amazing informatician, he can do astonishing calculations in his head, but he’s not an experimentalist.” She jerked her chin towards the path to indicate that he should come along, and they started walking slowly, side by side.“You know, when everything started I volunteered to help him with his cylon detector. I went to see him, and I couldn’t understand anything he said. His methods made no sense to me, and I accepted that he was so much cleverer than I was and that he didn’t need my help. When it became obvious that he was just stalling I kicked myself – if I had only had more faith in myself I could have exposed him much earlier.”“Ok, I can see that. But that’s all water under the bridge, how is that gonna help now?”“This isn’t about the cylon detector. Do you remember how he used Hera’s blood to cure the President from her cancer? I was amazed by it, and I was so keen to find out how it worked. He said, so cock sure, that it was all about blood groups, but that’s absurd.” She had that deep furrow between her brows now.“Why? Why is that absurd?” he spread out his hands. “I don’t know anything about this stuff.”“Well I do. That’s what I was working on at the ATLINTIS, how to make the immune system kill tumours. It can, but the tumour cells have these incredibly powerful ways of hiding from the immune cells, or incapacitating them. It has nothing to do with the red blood cells, and everything to do with the white ones.”They were reaching the bend in the path now, Edward and Julia waiting up ahead. Layne slowed. “I think the cylons have a different immune system from us. We are all different, but I think that they have a fundamental difference in how their immune cells are restrained. Perhaps tumour cells can’t hide from them. I have some ideas about what it could be, but I won’t be able to investigate them with the equipment I have here. I’ll be able to test it in the most important way though.” She looked at him. “Did you know that Sherman has lung cancer?” Sherman? Cottle, of course. He nodded.“That’s why I need to see the cylon. I have nothing to treat him with, but this might just work. If she agrees to me taking her blood that is.”“The cylon.”She started walking again. “Yes.”He looked at the bag slung over her shoulder. So that was what the medkit was for. She seemed to be always coming up with ideas, always open to new opportunities. There was an irresistible energy about her that drew him in, that made him wonder what was next. He caught up with her and looked at her profile. Her face was tanned, with a few freckles across the cheeks. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail, showing the line of her jaw and the fine shell of her ear. A few strands of hair had escaped the tie at the neck and fell across her cheek. His hand twitched to smooth it back behind that ear, and he clenched it by his side. They could hear the Baltar homestead before they saw it. Unable to place the sound, Lee tried to imagine what Baltar’s place would be like, and was slightly disappointed to find the same low log buildings as at Julia and Arnold’s place. There were more buildings here, arranged around a central forum. Chickens were clucking, and the sound was revealed to be coming from a wind mill higher up on the hill side, whose large wooden blades were turning lazily in the breeze. Two men who had been chopping wood came over to greet them, immediately recognising Lee, and several children who had been playing by a stream came running to look at the newcomers. Edward joined them, telling them about the excitement of the snake hunt, and the snake now sitting in a box under his porch. “Hello. This in an unexpected pleasure.” They turned, and were face to face with the cylon. She was tanned and her hair was lighter than ever, like a halo around her face. She was wearing a dress made of tarpaulin material, with a big hood hanging down on her back. Lee could see her eyes quickly giving him a once over, then fixing him with that knowing look. He had never felt comfortable around her. Any of the versions of her.“Viper pilots.” She smiled. “I thought there were no vipers anymore.”“They were chasing the irhamba in our chicken coop!” Edward piped up. “They caught it too!”The cylon turned her head toward Edward, and her smile changed, became broader and more sincere. “Hi Edward. You’ll never guess what I’ve been doing.”“What Caprica? Why are you wearing that tarp?”“Because of bees. I want them to make honey for you.”Layne looked from Edward to Caprica. “Honey! That’s a fantastic idea!”Caprica looked at Layne for the first time. “You’re the medic from Galactica. Making the insulin in the camp.” It wasn’t a question. Layne nodded. ”I’m Layne. Layne Ishay.”“That’s really good, what you’re doing.” Her eyes dropped to the suit again, sleeves tied around Layne’s waist. “You used that suit to catch the snake?” Layne nodded again, then her eyes narrowed. “You need something like this for bee keeping. Perhaps a helmet as well, right?” Caprica pinched her tarp dress in an ironic curtesy. “What, don’t you think this is a fantastic suit?”Layne didn’t smile, and her face was set. Lee was fascinated by it. She really didn’t let go when she wanted something, even when a bit of diplomacy and small talk would give a better result. Is she really going to offer the suit in exchange for blood now?, he wondered. He didn’t put it past her. She might even succeed.“Why hello there! Medic Ishay! Major Adama!” An unmistakable voice made them all turn, seeing Gaius Baltar approaching from the mill. He was smiling, and he looked relaxed. His hair was long and loose, billowing over his open necked shirt. “Have you come to admire our new mill?” He made a grand gesture toward the mill, whose blades were still moving. “It’s going to make milling quick and easy for everyone around, we’ll be able to bring you more flour in exchange for your services! The bread – the bread is delicious!”Lee threw a quick glance at Ishay, and found her looking at him. It only lasted a second, but the message was clear. Do your thing. Lee stretched out a hand and shook Baltar’s, and then Caprica’s as well. “It’s good to see you all again. I’m amazed by what you’ve built in just one year!” Baltar looked very pleased, and put an arm around Lee’s shoulders to show him around. Then he looked down and frowned. “But Major, why are you wearing a flight suit?”“THEY WERE CATCHING A SNAKE!” rose a chorus from all the people who had already heard about it from Edward. Baltar raised an eyebrow. “Of course you were. You must tell us all about it, and everything else that has happened. We adore news of the world, don’t we darling?”“We certainly do”, Caprica chimed in with a seductive smile, grabbing Lee’s other arm. He looked as Ishay again, and she nodded at him. But the frown was still there, between her eyebrows.
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“What are they?”“We called them behemoths, but there must be an Earthling name for them. They’re the biggest and strangest animals I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying a lot after the year I’ve had.”They were sitting on a rock in the slanting morning sunshine, sharing the water in the canteen. Seeing the flock of large grey animals in their path, Lee had insisted they stop. They had removed Penelope’s bags and lifted the box with the snake out to sit in the shade behind the rock.“So they’re dangerous?” Layne watched one of them use its long trunk to pull down a tree branch to sample the leaves.“They seem to eat grass, but they are big and fast. And they can get very angry when they have their babies with them.” He pointed toward the middle of the herd, and for the first time Layne made out a much smaller shape, tottering along between the legs of the larger animals. Lee handed her the binoculars, and she watched in fascination as the mother draped her trunk over the baby’s back in a protective manner. Some of the other animals stopped too, to investigate the higher branches in the grove. “It’s best to wait until they move on, just to be sure.”Layne considered the blood bags tucked away in the cold pack in Penelope’s saddle bags. It would keep for at least 12 hours. Caprica had been happy to donate the blood, in fact had seemed to take a gleeful pleasure in hearing Layne explain the flaws in Baltar’s original explanation for the tumour shrinking properties of Hera’s blood. She had also been delighted to keep Cakewalk’s flight suit for her beekeeping, arranging to pick up a helmet when arriving for the landing day celebration in two day’s time. She had been knowledgeable and very enthusiastic about beekeeping and winemaking, and Layne had thoroughly enjoyed her company. When the invitation to stay over night was extended, so that they could collect the blood and leave first thing in the morning, Layne had not hesitated to accept.Lee was checking his compass and writing down some numbers in a notebook. “I make the Farm village to be about 25 kilometers from the base camp, almost true west. I’ll add this to our map system when we get back.” He was about to put the notebook away when Layne put the binoculars down and caught a glimpse of his drawings within.“Are those drawings of the animals you’ve seen?”He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been keeping a journal of everything new we’ve seen. Well…” He fell silent. “Until recently anyway.”“Do you mind if I look? I haven’t been far from the ATLINTIS yet, I even sleep there still. Is there a drawing of that log beast in the lake?” “Sure.” Lee flicked the pages and showed her the pictures. He had tried to draw from memory, and what had stayed with him most was the detail of the elongated pupil in the eye. “How big was it?”He laughed. “I want to say huge, but honestly I can’t quite remember. It felt huge, and to see those jaws emerge from the water… If it had pulled me under, that would have been it.”Layne nodded, then picked up the binoculars and looked at the behemoths again, collaborating to reach the highest branches in the grove ahead. So much life. So many things to learn. “You sleep in the lab?”She kept looking through the binoculars. “Yes. There’s been no time to get anything else sorted. But the builders are building a house for me now. It will be nice to have somewhere for me. Somewhere more suitable for Penelope to graze.” It was peaceful, sitting on this rock, her head shaded by the straw hat and the binoculars to watch the fascinating creatures ahead. Penelope let out a sigh and dropped down on the ground, contentedly ruminating. Lee leaned back on his elbows next to her. “It’s been good to be close to the infirmary and the lab, but now there are more of us to share the work I don’t have to actually sleep in the back room anymore.”“So how did you decide to become a medic? I mean, you obviously weren’t one before the attack. Where were you when the cylons attacked?”“I was on Cloud 9.”“Cloud 9?“ He sat up and looked at her, and she lowered the binoculars. “That’s… not what I would have guessed.”“Why not?”He narrowed his eyes as he smiled, and his eyelashes caught the sun and gleamed like gold. “It just seems a bit frivolous is all. Cloud 9...”“When the cylons attacked I did what everyone else did – I was confused and frightened, I hoped it would pass, that we’d be able to go back. I kept thinking about my lab and my life back home, and missing it. But after that initial time of escape I realised that I would never get it back, and I started thinking of what I could do to make things better. When Baltar didn’t need my help I asked Sherman, and he said yes. So he trained me, and I worked with him, and eventually I started making some things that we needed when we were running out of supplies.” It sounded so simple now. She remembered the shouting rows she had had with Tim, how unsure she had been of her decision. How disdainful he had been of her. It had not been simple at the time.“You wanted to serve.” Lee was watching the distant herd as well.“Yes. I did. And I haven’t regretted it, even though it’s been hard. I’m not a natural carer.”“What? Nooooo…” Lee laughed and nudged her arm, and she nudged back. “Shut up.” The herd was done investigating the canopy in the grove and was moving on. Layne felt completely content in the moment, hearing Penelope’s gentle snuffling, enjoying the shade of the straw hat and the lingering sensation of his touch along her arm.
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“So what do you think? Will I live long enough to smoke the first Earth cigar?” Cottle laughed and immediately doubled over in a coughing fit. Lee rose from his chair next to the bed, but could only stand uselessly by the side and wait for it to subside.“Take it easy old man.” He sat again. “Medic Ishay seems to think there’s a good chance. And I wouldn’t bet against her.”Cottle nodded and let his head fall back against the pillow. “That’s right. I never met anyone quite like her. As stubborn as an ass, that girl.”“Don’t talk. I didn’t mean to keep you talking, I just wanted to see you.”“It’s good to see you again Lee. It’s good to see you back in the camp. They’re building something really great here, with good people and good ideas.”Lee smiled a non-committal smile. He didn’t need to get into it with Cottle of all people. “There’s no lack of ideas, that’s for sure. I’m going on an expedition after Landing Day to arrange for chemical supplies.”“Layne put you up to it? There’s no stopping her.” Cottle closed his eyes briefly. “So have you seen the Admiral?”“Not since he left. I don’t know where he went, but it was clear that Laura didn’t have long.” He looked down on his hands, which were gripping his knees. He forced them to relax. Relax the shoulders, relax the jaw.“He’s a fool! How would he manage out there all alone? I can understand that he wanted to go away with her, but he should have come back. And what about Kara? Someone said she just disappeared, is that really true?”The tension was crawling in him now, and it took all his will power to remain seated in the chair. Deep breath. Acknowledge it. Accept it. “Yes. She did. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I don’t understand it any better now than I did when it happened.”Cottle nodded. “So, she said goodbye to you, and then she just… ‘poof’?”No one else had dared ask him about it before, and he hadn’t volunteered anything. He hadn’t known how to. In a way it was a relief. “Not in so many words… She didn’t say goodbye. But she said that she was done here. And that she wasn’t coming back.” He sniffed. “She never was big on explaining things.” “She had a lot of demons. I hope she’s found peace.““Yeah.”“Could have said goodbye though. Doesn’t cost anything, does it – a bit of common curtesy…” Lee let out an involuntary guffaw and looked fondly at the old man, who seemed to have drifted off to sleep. Somehow he felt lighter for having talked about Kara, to have said her name out loud.He remained seated next to the bed in the hushed shade of the infirmary, trying to imagine the battle that Layne had described raging inside Cottle’s gently wheezing chest. The white cells of the cylon blood attacking and killing the cancer cells, and the cancer unable to hide or defend itself. So much drama was going on so close by, and he could see no sign of it.Someone opened the door, and he looked up expecting to see Layne. He refused to acknowledge the flash of disappointment he felt when he saw Raj entering the room instead. Raj came over and placed the back of his hand on Cottle’s forehead to check his temperature.“Hey, thanks for keeping an eye in here. Layne watched him all night, but once she was content there wouldn’t be an acute reaction to the transfusion she went off to bed.” Lee eyes flicked involuntarily towards the door to the back room. Raj watched him and smiled. “She’s awake now, she’s in the library.” He jerked his chin across the forum. “Reading Freya as usual.”Lee rose. “I’ll go and find her. We were going to get venom from her snake.”“You do that. It’s good to get her out of that library, she’s getting a bit obsessed about the whole child birth thing.”“Child birth?”“Yes, she wants to be prepared for when Tina’s time comes. Which is perfectly reasonable of course, but she already knows that whole book by heart. And she’s helped Sherman lots of times in the past.”Child birth. Lee realised why this would be important to her. He looked at Raj. Did he not know? “Ok, I’ll see if I can get her out of the library. I’ll see you later Raj.”The ATLINTIS forum was a hive of activity this morning, with preparation for the Landing Day celebration. A stage was being erected for the band, and Tina was directing the stringing of lights between the buildings. The school children were all outside under the big tree, preparing bunting decoration with symbols of the journey. The smallest children were in a group together, and he spotted Freddy among them. At the open end of the forum, an amphitheatre was coming to completion for the story telling. People were calling out to each other, laughing, singing. The sense of joyous joint effort and progress was palpable. He looked up the avenue leading to the Bath House forum and saw the Fleet compound gates. They swung open and two vehicles drove out. They must also be preparing for the celebrations. Lee stopped and considered the closing gates. It worried him that there should be such a division in the camp. The community might be working well now, but if the situation became more stressed he had no doubt that the division would create deeper cracks. They needed to address it, and soon, to protect what had been built. He looked back toward Freddy, realising that Brendan had chosen to put his kid in the ATLINITIS forum school, not inside the compound. He remembered Brendan’s words from the funeral. ‘The wrong people are making the decisions.’ Something would have to be done about that.The library had neatly ordered shelves containing all the books rescued from the fleet before the landing. Layne was seated at a desk by a window at the far end of the first room, hunched over a book. She looked up as Lee approached.“Raj says you know that book by heart.”“Have you been to the infirmary? How’s Sherman?”“He’s fine, asleep now. Just as abrasive as always, but I guess that wasn’t ever gonna change.”She smiled. “No. I suppose not.”Lee looked over her shoulder into the book. The page contained vivid illustrations of how the baby would turn in the birth canal during the birth. Even though he knew very well that this was how babies came into the world, it looked impossible. He understood her wish to keep reassuring herself.“If everything goes to plan he’ll get better and he’ll be able to take charge of Tina’s delivery. But if he doesn’t…” She tapped the page, and he nodded.“Then you’ll be in charge. You ok with that?”She gave him a long look. “I don’t have a choice. And it would be harder for me to not do anything.”He nodded. He could understand that. That was how he had always felt himself, before. It had been so thoroughly beaten out of him by the war that he had thought he’d never want to be responsible for another person ever again. But working shoulder to shoulder with Layne he could feel that stirring again, that impulse to make things better, to help people.“I wanted to check if you were ready to grapple with the snake again. You wanted to get the venom ASAP, right?”She shut the book quietly and rose from the desk. Her face was almost level with his. “Will you help me?” Her pupils were large in the dusk away from the window. “Yeah. Of course.”“Shhh!” They both turned to see an angry looking woman looking pointedly at them over her book. “This is a library you know!”
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This new suit was so tight that she couldn’t get the zipper up all the way. Athena. She had been a very slight woman. Layne had vivid memories of Athena’s difficult labour, and the tightness of the suit around her hips added a physical dimension to her recollection. The challenge of bringing a baby into the world seemed absurd, almost perverse. She drew a deep breath, forcing the thoughts of child birth out of her mind. She was preparing for a very different challenge.“Here. Wear this.” Lee held out Athena’s helmet to her. “Just while handling the irhamba. You don’t want to get the venom in your eyes.”She accepted the helmet from him. “Thanks. This suit is a bit tight, but it will do for now.” His eyes flicked down to her chest and then he quickly looked away. He cleared his throat. “I could find you a different one, there are plenty of others in the workshop.”“Nah, let’s do this. I’ve psyched myself up. I wouldn’t admit this to anyone else, but I’m not looking forward to handling that snake again.”He grinned. “I don’t blame you.”“I don’t want to do this in the ATLINTIS, it doesn’t need to be sterile anyway. And we need daylight. But not among all these people. Let’s bring the box, the petri dish and the ether out behind the workshop.”Lee set up a table in the shade outside while Layne went in search of the things she needed. She placed the box with the snake in the shade under the table, and they both crouched down to look at it. It was lying still in a corner of the box, a slow uncoiling of the pale underbelly the only sign of life. Layne had checked on it before, but was unsure about what constituted signs of good health in an irhamba. “I had meant to harvest the venom and then kill it. But perhaps it would be useful to keep it, and get more. So we don’t have to go out chasing one again.”“To be honest, I enjoyed the chase. But I can see your point. You can’t keep it in that box though, it doesn’t like it.”“How do you know?” She lifted an eyebrow.“Just look at it! It’s mad as hell!” “Well, you’re the Viper pilot. I appear to be more of a bumble bee now.” She glanced down on the patch on her arm.“Raptor. Athena piloted raptors.”“Does that mean I’m better than you?”He smiled. “What, three seconds in the suit and already with the raptor pilot attitude? Must be a record.”“I’m a fast learner.” She tipped the ether onto a rag and placed it on the breathing holes in the lid of the box, then covered it with a bowl. “Don’t get the ether on your skin, ok? Once it’s under I’ll get it out, and I’ll press the glands to milk the venom into the dish. Could you just… have my back in case it gets loose or something?”He unsheathed his knife and placed it on the table, and patted the stick Tina had crafted for them. “Yeah, I’m ready.” He nodded to her zipper. “You’re gonna have to pull that up to fasten the helmet.” She groaned, but complied. “I hope this is quick, I’m boiling.”“Can you tighten those clasps on the side?” He pointed to his neck and she did as he asked. He then placed her helmet on her head and did the same for her. She could hear her own breathing very loudly inside the helmet. “Can you hear me?”She could see that he was shouting, but his voice was very weak through his own helmet and hers. She flicked her thumb up, and he nodded. They watched the box in silence. She didn’t know how to really tell when the snake was fully anaesthetised, it wasn’t as if it was very active before the application of the ether. What if it jumped out of the box and latched on to her arm? She rolled her shoulders to rid herself of the creeping unease, then tipped the box slightly to see if the snake would right itself automatically in response. The coiled body slid to the side with a dull thud, and the head lolled sideways exposing the pale scales underneath. Right. She swallowed. It was time.She carefully removed the bowl with the ether soaked rag and placed it to the side, then unlatched the lid. She glanced at Lee, and saw that he was fully focussed on the box, the stick and knife in his hands. Her hands trembled slightly, but she remembered what Lee had said before. There were things that were much worse. She resolutely reached into the box and took a firm hold around the irhamba’s neck, bracing the body with her other hand. The snake was relaxed in her grip. She gently coiled the body around her left arm, and slid her thumb and forefinger up along the neck to find the glands. She then picked up the petri dish and nudged the snakes jaw open with it. As the jaw opened, the fangs folded forward and she drew a breath. They were long and sharp. Placing the fangs over the edge of the dish, she squeezed the glands carefully, and to her delight she could see a droplet of pale amber liquid pearl at the tip of each fang. The droplets grew and splashed into the dish, and she renewed her efforts, careful not to use unnecessary pressure. Another drop, and then another, added to the harvest in the dish. She sensed Lee moving at the edge of her vision, and quickly looked over at him. She then looked at what he was reacting to, and saw a group of children from the school all staring at them, the baskets of flowers they had been carrying forgotten. Damn. Deirdre was coming up behind them, stopping when she saw what the children had been distracted by. Lee waved his arm for them to leave, and Deirdre quickly read the situation and ushered her flock away around the corner.Layne returned her attention to her precious harvest, seeing with pleasure that she had more than half a millilitre of liquid in the dish. No more drops were forming. She carefully placed the dish on the table and covered it with a lid, and then lowered the snake back into the box. When the lid was latched she stood and waited impatiently for Lee to take her helmet off. “How did you work like this, it’s intolerable!” She gasped as he lifted the helmet off her head, yanking the zipper of her suit down to get some air.“It’s colder in space. A lot colder. So did you get enough?” He peered into the petri dish, looking sceptical.“It may not look like much, but this is loads. I want to use it immediately, so that it doesn’t lose any activity. Can you come with me? Penelope likes you.”He nodded, lifting the box with the snake to carry it back to the shade behind the infirmary. Layne stood for a moment, enjoying the feeling of a task well done, a danger avoided. But the kids coming to see them, that had been a mistake. She would have to be more careful next time. She picked up the bowl with the ether soaked rag and the petri dish, and went after Lee. She disposed of it in the infirmary, and resuspended the venom in sterile saline before drawing it up in a syringe. Sherman was still sleeping in his bed, and there were no other patients in there. She placed the syringe on the bench and tied the sleeves of the suit around her waist like Lee had shown her. They’d better get to it. A kernel of unease was chilling her heart as she grabbed the syringe. She had accepted the gift of the camella with this project in mind, and had been amazed and delighted by how well everything was coming together. But she had come to like the company of the animal now, had come to think of her as an individual. A friend even. Penelope. She really didn’t want to hurt Penelope. She knew it was unlikely that the dose of venom would do any lasting harm to a large animal. But then how can you inflict even temporary harm on your friend? What sort of person does that? She remembered Ashok Varma’s still chest, and Edward and Lizzie’s freckled faces. ‘We get them all the time. They like eggs.’ Right. She squared her shoulders, and walked out into the sunlight. Lee was waiting.“Will this hurt her? Penelope I mean?” His voice was quiet. She looked at him, and for a moment she didn’t know what to say. “It might. It shouldn’t, but it might. I’d be lying if I said I’m not worried.” She swallowed. “I have made my mind up that the benefit is worth the risk. I can’t decide for you though. If you don’t want to do this, I won’t hold it against you.” The breeze blew his hair over his face, and he smoothed it back with both hands. It was bleached by the sun and long now, clearly not cut during all the time he had been exploring. “That’s ok. I just want to know the odds.” He nodded. “I’ve done worse.”So you keep saying, Layne thought. That’s not a good enough reason. She felt a sudden stab of guilt. He had been so desperate to leave, thinking that if he could just get away he would never have to hurt anything ever again. She was so focussed on her own goals, she’d not taken a moment to think about his feelings. Or anyone else’s. She pressed her lips together. “You really don’t have to.”He looked amused. “Let’s go.”Penelope was ruminating in splendid solitude under one of the acacias. Lee kneeled by her side, sliding the halter over her head to be able to better restrain her and then gently scratched behind her right ear. Layne probed the side of her neck and easily located the jugular vein. She slipped out the syringe, and inserted the needle. Penelope didn’t stir. Layne slowly pressed the plunger, injecting all the diluted venom, and then rubbed the injection site as she capped the needle.“Now we wait.”They remained silent for a long time, Lee continuing to rub Penelope’s head and Layne monitoring the pulse. It remained strong and slow, and Penelope didn’t ever pause her dignified rumination. The tension slowly dissipated.“I want to suggest electing a council. What do you think?”Layne looked up, confused. She had been thinking about antibodies. “What do you mean?”“A council. For the whole camp. It should have an overarching organisation, don’t you think? It’s no good with everyone just looking out for themselves, it’s going to lead to problems. You said so yourself.”The fight they had had a year ago had been a constant presence in their conversations, but neither of them had referred to it. Until now.She was annoyed to have her own words cited back to her, as if she was the one needing convincing. “I know I did. And I remember you saying that we should all just fend for ourselves.” She looked at him sharply. “I remember you saying that you weren’t interested in taking part.”“That’s the point. With a council it’s not up to one person to make any decisions. Everyone does the best they can to contribute.”“And would you stand for election?”He turned his head away, but she caught the wince. She frowned. “You know that I agree, that democracy and representation is key. But for this sort of thing to succeed right now, it needs people who can garner a lot of support.” She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “People like you.”He rose from his kneeling position next to Penelope, who gave him an affectionate nudge. Unconsciously he stretched out his hand to continue rubbing behind her ear, and Layne smiled despite herself.“I can’t see what difference it makes.” They started back towards the infirmary, and Layne checked that there was enough water left in Penelope’s trough. “A council should be composed of the people who are the most important for the running of a community, the people who provide the most crucial services.” They walked through the back room, and then quietly through the infirmary. Sherman was still asleep. They stood on the door step outside watching the preparations for the celebration. “It shouldn’t be about who is most popular.”Layne couldn’t help letting out an exasperated groan. “Have you not been paying attention? Everyone wants to talk to you. It’s a talent, a gift. When I say something, no one listens. When you say the same thing, everyone thinks it’s the best thing ever.” She turned to give him the full force of her angry stare, deep frown between her eyebrows. “Even you don’t like me very much!” He looked taken aback. “I like you.”“Doc?”They both turned. It was John Gage, sporting a new hair cut. “Hey Doc, are you going to the dance tomorrow?” He didn’t even acknowledge Lee. His eyes dropped to the tight suit encasing her hips, and then slowly swept up to her face again.Layne was confused again. A dance. Yes, of course, the dance. People kept changing the subject. “Yes. I mean I think so. Unless something happens of course.” She blinked at him, and remembered her manners. “And are you going?” “Yeah, of course.” He smiled. “So, will you save me a dance?”She nodded, and he watched her expectantly. A dance. Which dance? Not one where she would have to be too close to him, not a sweet hearts dance. Not Stripping The Willow. “How about The Dashing White Sergeant?” “Great!” He smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. He bowed to Layne, then finally acknowledged Lee. “Major.” He walked off, and Layne and Lee watched him go. “So, you’ve got a date then.” His voice was low.“It’s a dance. I don’t go on dates.”“Why not?” His voice was louder now, teasing. “Take your mind off things? Surely even you Eleusis girls like to have a good time?”She scoffed. “I’ve seen enough to know how ‘good times’ end, with a lot of pregnancies and a lot of STDs. No thanks, it’s not worth it.”“Oh come on, if he knows what he’s doing that wouldn’t be a problem.”She scoffed even louder, and cast him a disdainful look. “My gods! I can’t believe you’d say that. Such a typical bloke thing to say. I’ve seen literally hundreds of pull out babies, men are so useless…”“You’re so bloody quick to jump to conclusions! What I mean…”She looked into his eyes, and fell silent. They were brilliantly blue, and the contrast to his golden flecked eyelashes made the colour almost fluorescent. He narrowed them, and the intensity of his stare made her breath hitch. He stepped to face her, a warm hand gently enclosing her elbow. Suddenly he was very close. The din of the forum, the noise, the voices, they all faded. “I mean. If he knows. What he’s doing.” His voice was barely more than low growl, but she heard every word. She saw his gaze drop to her lips, and when he lifted it to hers once more it was like a punch in the gut. It surged straight to her core and coiled there like a spring, an immediate and overwhelming sense of arousal. She couldn’t look away. She wouldn’t look away. She could feel the pad his thumb draw a light circle above her elbow, and her whole arm was tingling. He leaned in further and she swallowed, lips parting, still unable to break eye contact. “Save the Willow for me.” His voice was still low. She let out the breath that she hadn’t known she was holding. She nodded, and he stepped back. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest she was sure he must be able to hear it. Finally she allowed herself to look at him, not just the scraps she had rationed out to herself, but to fully look at all of him. The sharp jaw line, the firm lips, the high cheek bones and the golden tipped hair swept back from his forehead. He was beautiful, and she knew that the desire she had finally acknowledged would be obvious in her gaze. He smiled. “Layne?” A coughing fit rattled from the infirmary. She turned her head toward the door, and then back to Lee. He nodded. “I know. Go. But don’t forget. The Willow is mine.” “I will. I mean, I won’t.”He took three steps backwards, then turned to leave. She made to enter the infirmary, but then looked back at him again. She found him already turned, looking at her. She smiled, and lifted her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”“Tomorrow.”
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Her hand gripped his hair and tugged his head firmly to one side, making him wince slightly. She crouched down in front of him, eyes flicking from side to side assessing her handiwork. Then she frowned and snipped away a bit more around his left ear. He tried to stay very still. As she circled around him her hand stayed on his neck and he unconsciously leaned away from the proprietary touch. She flicked his ear. “Ouch!”“Well sit still then! I’m doing you a favour. Another one, I should add.” She probed his head to move it the way she wanted again. “So, getting all prettified for the dance tonight.” It wasn’t a question. He could feel heat rise in his cheeks. He hadn’t really admitted it to himself, but that was pretty much it. He’d been fed up with the hair falling in his eyes, but he hadn’t noticed it enough to do anything about it until Specialist Gage had turned up on Layne’s doorstep with a sharp haircut and a smooth line. “Will you perhaps ask me for a dance?”He smiled. He knew just the one. “Sure. Will you do me the honour of reserving the Dashing White Sergeant for me Tamar?”She squealed. “Of course! I love the Sergeant, it’s so much fun.” She lifted the towel off his shoulders with a flourish and brushed them vigorously with her fingers. “You’re all done, and looking very dashing indeed.”“Tamar, can I ask you – who’s in charge in here? In the compound?”“Well, it’s Bella Hadrian and Jonathan Gao. And a few others. But that’s what all of us want, so that’s fine.”“Really? That’s what all of you want?”Tamar cast a furtive look around and licked her lips. “Well, it has worked out well enough for me so far.” Her voice was lower now. “And someone has to be in charge, you know. Otherwise… “ She didn’t finish the sentence.“Listen, I want to suggest elections to a camp council tonight. At the celebration. Would there be support for that in this compound? It would mean a chance to put your representatives in an elected camp council.”“I think so, yeah. We all want order and progress. I think it’s a good idea.”Lee didn’t mention that even if the compound did get their representatives on the council, they would be in a minority. “Good. I’ll go and speak to Hadrian and Gao now, and a few others to prepare the ground. He pulled his shirt over his head. “Thanks Tamar. I’ll see you later then.”He found Tim Hallam wrapping solar panels for transport in the garage and work shop. Hadrian and Gao were there with him. Tim’s face lit up when Lee entered. “There you are! Ready for our departure tomorrow?”“Absolutely. Just here to check if there’s anything I can do to help.”“I’ve got it all under control, but you can help me load these panels on this truck. Will you bring your map making instruments with you on the journey?”Hadrian and Gao had been listening intently, and now Hadrian spoke up. “Maps? You’re making maps?”“Yes. And that’s part of why I wanted to go on this expedition, to map the land properly.” He turned and spoke more directly to Hadrian and Gao. “I really appreciate you letting us have all this equipment for the expedition. I think what we find will be of benefit to everyone in this camp, and beyond.” Gao smiled, but Hadrian remained stern faced. She would require a bit more effort. “I’m sure you within this compound have needs that you are struggling to meet, right? Schooling, health care, supplies?” Hadrian nodded slowly. “If we all work together, our chances of providing all these things are much bigger. I want to suggest electing a camp council, and I’d like you to endorse it. Perhaps you would be interested in standing for election yourselves?” Lee looked intently at both of them, trying to evaluate the effect of his words. Gao spoke first. “I think that’s a wonderful idea!” He beamed at Lee, who smiled back and then turned his eyes to Bella Hadrian. She was watching him with an unreadable expression on her face. “I’m not against the idea in principle. But other people in this camp have very different ideas of how to prioritize, and I wouldn’t be happy with them having extended powers over me. I’d have to think about the implications. Are you suggesting this tonight?”“Yes. It’s been too long a period without democratic governance, and if left much longer we may lose it completely.”“This is very different from what you said just one year ago. If you remember, you said that you didn’t endorse the formation of cities, in fact you suggested that we should all disperse.”He clenched his jaw. He had said that. And in doing so, he had left the field open for anyone who fancied grabbing whatever power was left for themselves.“I was wrong. I see that now. I wanted to get away from our mistakes, but the way to do that is not to forget about them, but to learn from them. We have that chance now.”Bella Hadrian nodded. “If I may speak frankly, Major Adama.” Gods, these people. Still hanging on to titles long after they had all become moot. Lee squared his shoulders and smiled. ”If you suggest this it will be so. You are very popular, and this goes along with people’s sentiments anyway. But I’m sure you know that we, in this compound and those who share our values, are strong and well supported. If there is any double dealing to keep us from getting our fair share of the power, that would not go down well. Am I making myself clear?”Lee swallowed, and met her gaze. Gao was fretting nervously at the side lines. This was where the real power in the compound rested. He nodded. “No double dealing, completely democratic. One hundred signatures to stand, and then the twelve with the most votes get on the council. They select the leader, in accordance with colonial law.Hadrian nodded. “I’ll support it.” Lee extended his hand to her, and then to Gao. “I’ll see you at the celebration tonight. And you Tim – and you’d better keep your crew away from the bar!”
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The dress was wrinkled from lying at the bottom of her holdall for four years. She smoothed it out, and tried to remember when she had last worn it. On Cloud 9 probably. Fighting with Tim. It was an artefact from a different time and a different world, the laundry tag recommending hand wash as if there was any other kind. She looked at the sandals that had gone with it, but rejected the idea immediately. There was no way she was stepping outside without her boots on her feet. She hadn’t bothered about what she looked like in a long time, and it was making her feel terrible. She had felt glorious the night before, enclosed in the bubble of expectation, pleased with Penelope’s continued haughty grazing and with Sherman’s improved colour and oxygen saturation. During the hours of work in the ATLINITS this morning the doubts had set in, making her question her own judgement and even her experience. Had he really looked at her like that? How could he have. Everyone wanted him, he was the golden boy. Apollo. How could he want her? Then she recalled his voice and his words, and the hairs on her arms stood up from the physical recollection of the effect he had had on her. She never reacted like that, to anyone. It was real. But…She shook her head. Enough of this nonsense. She threw the dress down on her bed and stepped through to the infirmary. Sherman was sitting up in bed. “Layne! You’ve been busy in the lab I hear. How is the current batch going?”She was so pleased to see him looking so well, and she grinned at him. “It’s looking good, no thanks to you. Lazing about in bed all day.”“I’d be happy to get out, but Raj won’t let me.”“Caprica is coming to the camp today. I’m going to hit her for one more blood donation before I give her the helmet she wants. You seem to be responding well, but I want to make sure.”“I’d rather be of use, but I won’t be difficult. I’m still pretty tired.”Layne patted his arm fondly. “Just rest for a bit then. I’m sure there will be plenty of people with drunken head injuries later for you to get your teeth into if you’re still in the mood.”He chuckled. “You’re a good girl Layne.”“Knock knock.”They both turned to the door. Caprica was standing there, a vision in a white dress and her hair backlit like a halo. “Hi.”“Hi Caprica.” Layne’s voice had real warmth. “How was your journey?”“Uneventful. And it didn’t take long, I can’t believe I haven’t been back before. You’ve built so much.” She looked around the infirmary. “Dr Cottle. I hope you’re feeling better?”Layne did nothing to hide the excitement in her voice. “He is! And it’s all thanks to you”. Caprica looked at her with a shy smile, quite different from her usual assured behaviour. “And to you Layne. If you hadn’t thought of it, I never would have either. I’m glad you did.”“Listen, Caprica, I know you’re here for the celebration, but could I… Would you give some more? Just in case? He’s responding well, but I want to…” She didn’t have to finish.“Of course. I’ll come whenever you need me. I’m happy there is something so easy I can do – beekeeping is a total bitch.” She scratched her cheek absentmindedly where two bee stings stood out on her perfect skin.Layne withdrew fifty millilitres of blood, taking care not to spill a drop of the precious liquid on the white dress or anywhere else. “Are you joining the celebrations?” Caprica was gingerly holding the compress in place to stop the bleeding in the crook of her arm.“In a moment, I just want to prepare this for transfusion, and then I’ll be out. The amphitheatre was finished only earlier today, and Calum will tell the story of how we got here. I would like to see that.”“I would too. And then I want to dance with lots of men who aren’t my husband!” She winked at Sherman, and slid out of her seat. “I’ll see you later then?”“Absolutely. Thanks!”Layne watched Caprica go. That’s how you wear a dress, she thought. She shook her head again. At least Sherman was doing well.
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“Neither humans nor cylons alone could have made it here, but working together we managed keep the fleet intact, to keep moving, to keep our faith. And in a final demonstration of our joint destiny, Hera, child of a cylon woman and a human man, identified the coordinates that would lead us here. The final jump of the ailing fleet brought us to this solar system, to this green and wonderful planet, which will from now on be our home. Earth!”“SO SAY WE ALL!” The response came in unison, joyous and loud after the complete silence that had reigned while Calum told the story of the exodus. The amphitheatre was packed with people, and those who could not get a seat were perched or stood anywhere where they could get a glimpse of the stage. The light of the setting sun bathed them all in honey coloured light, dripping pure gold on the smiling faces. Calum held up a hand, and spoke again.“And speaking of our home, here is someone who was instrumental in bringing us all here – Lee Adama!” The crowd cheered again, as Calum gestured to the audience to encourage Lee to get into the centre. Layne’s gaze followed the direction of his arm, and identified him as he made his way through the crowd. His hair was different, cropped close to his skull and much darker than before. A woman in front of her leaned toward her friend and sighed exaggeratedly.“Oh gods, he’s so hot. He’s just as hot as in that film, d’you remember?”“I heard he’s a total slut, he got off with every woman on that ship.”The first woman giggled. “I don’t mind that, more chance he’ll get off with me tonight.”“That’s not what I heard”, a third woman joined the conversation, “He was totally devoted to his wingman and he’s completely devastated now he’s dead.”“He’s gay?”“He’s so not gay, he was married to the most beautiful woman in the fleet!”“Shh!”Lee had reached Calum, and was looking out across the crowd. A hush spread through the audience. Layne looked at him with a small frown on her forehead. How easily he commanded the attention of the crowd. ‘A total slut.’ ‘Completely devoted.’ ‘Most beautiful woman in the fleet.’ He looked down briefly, a small smile playing on his lips.“I’m very grateful to be here.” The crowd cheered. The sunlight made his face luminous, glinting on his eyelashes. “I must confess I never quite believed we’d find this place, and when we found it, I didn’t know how to make the most of it.” His voice gained in strength. ‘But others did, and what you have been built here fills me with admiration. My friends and I were attacked by a lion, we were alone, and we would never have made it if we hadn’t come here and benefitted from the community you have built.” “We’re happy to have you back Apollo!” a woman shouted from the back.“So say we all!” came a spread chorus, followed by laughter. Lee smiled. “Thank you.” He looked around, taking time to see every part of the audience. “Thanks for that. But what I want to say is, we can’t take what has been built here for granted. It needs to be taken care of to continue to thrive, and the time has come to make arrangements for governance. I think we are ready to elect a council to safeguard democracy and rule of law. Do you agree?”There were spread shouts of acclamation, and a more than a few enthusiastic “So say we all!”. Clearly a lot of people had known about this announcement beforehand. There was an equal number looking surprised, looking around for guidance. Layne could see that the eyes of many compound dwellers were seeking out the face of Bella Hadrian, inscrutable at the front of the crowd. She stepped into the centre next to Lee, and faced the audience. She raised an arm slowly, a smile on her face. A supercilious smile, Layne thought. “Let me be the first to say that I support this suggestion. It’s time to elect a council!” A cheer erupted from the compound contingent, who after being told the idea was good were happy adjust their enthusiasm accordingly.“Calum? Deidre?” Lee turned to the librarian and the school teacher.“We’re in!” cried Deirdre in her high pitched voice. Calum was nodding and smiling “So am I!” “Medic Ishay?” his eyes were scanning the crowd again, unable to spot her in her place at the back. “Layne?” She swallowed, then stretched her back and neck to make herself visible.“Over here! I think it’s a good idea!” His eyes fixed on her, and for a moment she felt that no one else was there. He smiled. “Good. I wouldn’t ever want to go up against you.”There was quite a lot of laughter at this, and Layne nodded grimly. “Good for you” she added softly, and the women in front of her laughed, the one who had pronounced Lee so slutty turning around and giving her a thumbs up.Lee spoke up again. “Four weeks from today, we will elect our first twelve person council. Any person over eighteen years of age can stand, provided they can get one hundred signatures to support their candidacy. Registration will be at the library, and representatives from the whole camp will be selected to oversee the proceedings, which will be arranged by Calum Mestler.” Calum looked around and waved, and was greeted with another cheer. “Counting of votes will start at sundown on election day, and the twelve will select the leader of the council among themselves. Is this agreed?”“SO SAY WE ALL!” Deirdre patted Lee’s arm, and took centre stage. “It’s decided – an election in four week’s time. But now it’s high time for something even more important! It’s time to clear the floor… for the DANCE!”The crowd cheered even more loudly. “The water dance! The water dance!” came cries from different parts of the audience. The orchestra was coming together, tuning their instruments, and there was commotion as people were rising from their seats and trying to get to the ground. “Apollo! Take the lead!” “Apollo! Apollo, take the handkerchief!”. Deirdre offered the red handkerchief to Lee, who held up his hands in front of him, instead gesturing to Deirdre to take it. The person leading the water dance was traditionally the most important person in the community, and not a role to be accepted lightly. A lot of people would be watching. Deirdre shook her head, pointing to her leg, and Lee took the handkerchief from her, bowing to her and then lifting it above his head in a confident gesture of triumph. The people around him cheered, delighted to see his display of joy, and ready to have some fun themselves. Layne wondered if she was the only one who had seen the tightening of his jaw before accepting.The orchestra started slowly, and people were lining up expectantly, trying to get organised into a line but finding it hard in the vast crowd. Lee turned to Bella Hadrian, and offered her his hand with a flourish. She accepted with what looked like a genuine laugh, reaching out to grab the person next to her to form the chain. Layne remained in her place, watching people scramble to join in. She could see Lee laugh, saying something to Bella, and then starting the step. It started slowly, a step to the side, one forward, one back, across, several to the side, then start again, making the chain of people move slowly across the open place and further into the forum. The orchestra remained in the amphitheatre, from where the sound was reflected across the ATLINITS forum where the water chain was slowly snaking along, led by Lee. The last rays of sunshine were illuminating the scene, with the amphitheatre casting a long shadow. The orchestra slowly picked up the speed, encouraging quicker steps and a faster speed of the chain, until the line of people was breaking apart in places and everyone was laughing. There were so many people in the forum, and the line was still forming. Layne had not yet joined it. It looked like fun, but somehow she couldn’t make herself join in. She was beginning to feel a familiar sense of loneliness, of being in the middle of a large gathering but somehow unable to take part. She could be so confident and assertive when dealing with a medical emergency or a scientific problem, but simple social interactions often felt overwhelmingly complicated. She withdrew further into the shadow of the amphitheatre structure, watching Lee as he laughed and cheered with everyone as he led the front of the chain back to face the people further back, for the traditional exchange of compliments, jokey insults and virtuoso exhibitions of modified steps.The water dance lasted all through the sunset, the orchestra slowing down and speeding up several times to allow everyone who fancied to join in the several chains that had now formed. When it finally finished a huge roar of joyous applause and whoops rose toward the rapidly darkening sky, where the first stars were twinkling in the east. The solar powered lanterns that Tina’s team had hung were coming alight, swinging gently in the big tree and between roof tops and solar panels. Many sought out the bars for something to drink, but the orchestra was already getting ready for the next dance. Deirdre got up from the seat where she had been resting her leg to announce it. “Ladies and gentlemen, after carrying the water, you all know what it’s time for!” Several couples were gravitating to the amphitheatre, jostling for space. “The time has come to find your partners. To STRIP. THE. WILLOW!” Deirdre laughed delightedly, looking around at the abundance of couples eager to join the dance. They were lining up in several groups, a line of women facing a line of men, waiting for the first note.“I thought this was where I saw you.” She looked to the side, and there he was. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead from the water dance, but he had not gone to find a drink. Instead, he’d come to find her. “So you chickened out of the…” His eyes dropped to her dress and he fell silent, “…the…”“Water dance, yes. You looked as if you enjoyed yourself though?” His hair was damp with sweat, and he drew a hand through it with an embarrassed smile. “Well, yeah. It’s fun. And it was… strategically important, I guess. I got Bella Hadrian dancing, did you see?”She nodded, and smiled at his rueful look. Suddenly she didn’t feel out of place at all. She felt a pleasant warmth in her chest when she saw him look her up and down out of the corner of his eye. “But this one is mine, if I’m not mistaken?” He looked up at her, and smiled. “Absolutely. Come on!” He grabbed her hand, and they walked out into the centre. “You look beautiful, by the way.”She felt the smile bloom on her face as the orchestra finally started the first few notes, looking into his eyes and seeing a similar smile reflected there. Then the woman next to her nudged her, and she realised that as they had joined in last they were at the top of the row and had to start. She more flew than stepped towards Lee, and he took her hand and spun around four turns, never breaking eye contact. Then he let go and she was propelled to the next man, spinning with him for four turns until returning to Lee in the middle. He grabbed her hand harder this time, and smiled as she grabbed back, turning, turning, and then on to the next. Down the line they spun, meeting in the middle to turn and then off to the side again to spin with another partner. The couple behind them had started off as well, and she could see them spinning at the corner of her eye. But she was completely focussed on Lee now, every time he returned to her in the middle their grips became stronger, the snap of the regained eye contact even more intense. Her head was spinning from the turns, but she felt as if she could have gone on forever. At the next turn, Lee grabbed her right hand with his left, and instead slung his right around her waist, lifting her as they spun so that her feet left the ground. The strong grip of his arm and the heat of his body pressed to hers from hip to shoulder was a shock, and it took her breath away. It felt like flying, and she laughed. They had reached the end of the line, and took their places opposite each other, both breathing fast. His shirt was open at the neck down to the third button, and when she pulled her eyes away she met his gaze and realised he knew what she’d been looking at. She held his gaze. Then the next man came spinning along, and lifted her high in exhilaration after his run down the middle. Along they came, one after the other, and she spun high and low smiling and laughing out loud, and then returning to her place and looking at him. As the orchestra dragged out the last note, the other dancers clapped and cheered, but Layne and Lee just stepped forward to meet in the middle, hands meeting once more. The moon had risen and bathed the dancers in its strong silver light. “I…”“There you are!” Both their heads snapped to the side, taking in the woman in a full skirted dress confidently slipping her arm under Lee’s. “Darling, you look amazing! Your hair is so much better this way.” She ruffled his cropped hair possessively, and then looked over at Layne. “Thanks for warming him up for me, but the next one is mine!”Lee looked between the two of them. “Look, Tamar…”“Doc! I was looking everywhere for you earlier. You didn’t forget, did you? White Sergeant?” John Gage was beaming at her, gallantly holding out his right elbow. Right. Dashing White Sergeant. She wasn’t sure she remembered the steps. She wasn’t sure she remembered anything but Lee’s arm around her waist, lifting her up and swinging her high in the air. She cleared her throat, looking at Tamar’s hand creeping up around his biceps.“Of course I remember. Yes.” She looked away from Lee, not wanting to see Tamar touch any other part of him. She smiled at John and slipped her arm under his. “Let’s dance!” In the corner of her eye she could see Lee and Tamar turn and join another group of six, ending up in front of Layne and John. She couldn’t avoid seeing them now. They appeared to be laughing about something, Tamar once more touching his hair. Layne had not touched his hair. She had wanted to, she realised. But she hadn’t. The music started, and she had to use all her concentration to keep up with the steps, stepping forward and then back, stomping feet, then splitting into trios and turning first with one and then another. John Gage was a good dancer, tall and strong and able to spin her beautifully by planting a foot at the centre of the spin. She just couldn’t enjoy the dance, unable to resist casting furtive glances toward Lee and his partner, who were spinning and laughing and clearly having a great time. She heard a “Whoop!” from Tamar and realised with a sickening feeling that he must have lifted her just as he had lifted Layne earlier. She turned her head and smiled at John, who beamed back and lifted her extra high. When the music stopped she clapped automatically, and John stepped closer. “I need something to drink! How about you?” He looked at her expectantly.“I think…” He was reaching out to take her elbow, when she looked over his shoulder and saw Lee and Tamar kissing, Tamar’s hand possessively cradling the back of his skull. Her eyes widened, and she looked away quickly. ‘A total slut.’ ‘Completely devoted.’ ‘Most beautiful woman in the fleet.’ “Sorry, another time” she mumbled, and pulling her arm away more forcefully than she had meant to, she turned and walked off.
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“Tamar, come on!” He grabbed her wrist and pulled it away before she could snake it around his neck, turning his head to get out of her grip. He schooled his features to not look annoyed, and tried for an amused smile instead. “You know I like you, but… “ He was looking for a diplomatic way out, a way to spare her feelings. He could hardly use the friend in hospital again, as Bram and Scully were drinking in the moon light not 20 metres away. Looking over at them, they appeared to be laughing, and he wished he could join them. Then they both looked at him and he realised they were laughing at him. Bastards.“But…” Tamar’s eyes were wide, uncomprehending. “You lifted me…” Her voice trailed off, realising that the argument wasn’t very strong. He knew what she meant though, and his lips tightened, annoyed with himself, not her. He had danced with Tamar, but had thought about Layne, and about gripping Layne’s waist and lifting her high in the air. And about pulling her back in towards him. He shouldn’t have danced with anyone else tonight. He looked back to where Layne and her Specialist had been dancing, and saw only Gage with a dumb look on his face staring off into the distance. Layne was gone, but following the directions of Gage’s gaze he understood that she must have walked off towards the infirmary. “Apollo!” Caprica and Baltar approached through the throng, hands entwined. They looked sweaty and happy. Baltar’s shirt was open to his navel, and his hair was wild around his shoulders. “Will you dance the next with me?” Caprica’s smile was open and sincere, and her white dress had a black hand smudge on the waist from the dancing. “Oh no, he’s dancing with me next!”, Baltar exclaimed with an exaggerated bow, “it’s the Peacock, only men allowed my dear.”Lee looked over the heads in the crowd towards the infirmary. He couldn’t see her. “Caprica, Baltar. I’m sorry – I have to go.” He looked at Tamar, but her eyes were downcast.
“I’ll see you later.”“Well we’ll just have to watch then”, Caprica sighed, turning to Tamar. “Do you want to get a drink to prepare for this experience?” “Oh I think we’d better!” Tamar slid an arm through Caprica’s and pulled her towards one of the bars, without another look at Lee. He could hear her laughing at something, and although it sounded exaggerated, he chose to take it as an absolution. He looked over at Baltar, who was fluffing his hair and squaring his shoulders in preparation for the Peacock, checking out his shirt and clearly being satisfied with the number of undone buttons. Lee couldn’t help but smile, and Baltar winked at him. “Are you quite certain you won’t join me?”Lee shook his head. ”I couldn’t compete with that. Make me proud, ok?” He turned, and weaved his way slowly through the assembling dancers, scanning over their heads for a glimpse of Layne. The crowd was getting gradually louder and rowdier, and groups of women were already whooping and cat calling in preparation for the men’s Peacock dance.
There was a throng at all the bars, the large uneven glass beakers from the glassworks brimming with mint-mixed sugar cane rum and glinting in the light from a thousand shivering fairy lights strung all over the forum. But she wouldn’t be at any of the bars, he was sure of it. She had walked off, and he knew it was because she had seen the kiss. There was an excitement in that knowledge, the fact that she had not even tried to seem unaffected, that she cared. That she cared about what he did. “Hey, Apollo!” A man grabbed his shoulder, a big smile on his sweaty face, but Lee shrugged him off without a word and side stepped him. The urge to find her was so strong, to see her again, to see that green dress and the way it clung to her slim waist, the feel of her hip through the fabric. The infirmary, that’s where she would have gone. The crowd was less dense at this side of the forum, and he could move more quickly. He sprung up the two steps to the infirmary door and burst inside, but as his eyes adapted to the darkness he realised it was empty except for Cottle asleep in one of the beds. He crossed the room quietly and looked through the open door into the back room. It was silent, the only sound the muffled noises from the party outside. She wasn’t there. He stood on the step outside the door, where they had stood the day before, overlooking the forum and taking in the sounds of the celebration. The hectic music and encouraging shouts accompanying the Peacock dance were bouncing across the moon lit facades, and there was the sudden sound of shattered glass followed by laughter. His gaze moved slowly across the faces in the crowd, intermittently lit by the flaring fires and the flickering fairy lights, then disappearing again into deep shadow. He was so wholly tuned to her presence, her step, her shape, that all other information was discarded as he surveyed the scene, and the tiniest glimpse of the precise green of her dress electrified him. There she was. He walked hurriedly towards the school building, his heart beating fast and hard in his chest. “Layne!” It wasn’t until she turned around that he realised that he had no idea what he wanted to say. Her face was illuminated by the moon light, her eyes large and dark. He swallowed, trying to think of a good explanation, something that wouldn’t just sound pathetic. She was so close, her bare arms and throat gleaming in the silvery light, a slight sheen of sweat across the clavicles making them shimmer. He lifted his eyes to hers as she reached out and placed her hand on the side of his neck, her thumb slowly stroking the hairline under his left ear. He shivered. She stepped closer, and in a rush he could feel the heat radiating from her body as she slid her hand around the back of his neck and her fingers gently through the cropped hair at the base of his skull. “I like your hair like this.” He remained silent, not really registering the words as the sensation of her hand on his neck and the nearness of her body were commanding all of his attention. His hands floated to her waist, and he could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric as she placed her other hand on his arm and slid her thumb along his biceps up to his shoulder. Her pupils were completely dilated in the faint light, her face so close that he could discern the mint on her breath. Her eyes dipped to his lips, and then she slid her arms around his neck to bring her body completely flush with his, and nudged his lips with hers. He gasped at the silky sensation, relishing the slow and gentle exploration while tightening his grip on her waist, and sliding one arm around her back to hold her against him. She sighed into his mouth as he splayed a hand on her lower back, and the sound sent a jolt of desire through him. He angled his head slightly and tasted her bottom lip, and she moaned and met his tongue with the tip of her own. He pursued her gently, and could not hold back a growl when she pulled her head back to breathe. He opened his eyes, and met her gaze, hooded and searing, her lips swollen and panting. She looked glorious. He skimmed his hands down her hips, reaching one around her to palm her buttock and press her into him, maintaining eye contact as he pressed his erection to her stomach. She smiled a slow smile and rubbed slowly against him, and he leaned in and kissed her again, allowing his left hand to ghost along her torso and cup her breast, and drew his palm in a slow firm circle around her nipple. She threw her head back as she moaned, and he kissed his way down her throat to one of those tempting clavicles, which he swiped with his tongue and licked a line along her neck up to her ear lobe. Her skin was warm and salty and the smell of her was intoxicating. He nuzzled the shell of her ear gently, letting her feel his hot and fast breath, and she leaned her head to the side, inviting him to kiss her neck again. She made a fist in the front of his shirt and pulled it towards her, and slid her hand under it up along his stomach, and he groaned into her neck and pressed into her so that they both staggered. He steadied them with his palm flat on the school house wall, and then pushed her firmly into the shadow and the wall with another kiss. Both her hands were under his shirt now, her touch on his naked skin sending ripples of pleasure through him and he grabbed her ass with both hands to hoist her up against the wall. They both groaned into the kiss as they slammed into contact in this new way, her dress up around her hips and the heat of her centre right there, grinding into his hardness. The noise of the party, the presence of other people had completely fallen away, and although he was vaguely aware of the surroundings anyone could have gotten the drop on him now. A big crash nearby followed by the sound of shattering glass and loud cries made them break the kiss, and he pulled his head back slightly to look at her. Her face was in shade, but he could see light glinting in her eyes, on her eyelashes. “We should…” Her voice was husky and low, and she swallowed. He could feel her chest rise and fall against him. “We should get out of here.” He could sense rather than see her smile. “Do you want to see my cabin?”He was suddenly very still. The noise of the party came crashing back, mingled with the same noise from a similar party years ago. A similar situation in fact, a similar sense of focus and desire and determination. Kara. He had not thought of her much lately, he had made a habit of sending both the happy and sad memories of her to the back of his mind. And recently, his mind had been easily distracted, with the presence of Layne making memories of the past seem more distant and manageable. ‘Do you want to see my cabin?’. The excitement, the lust, the happiness of that night on New Caprica irreversibly mingled with the rejection and despair of the next day. That’s what it all ends with. Being rejected and then rejecting in turn, and endless cycle of receiving and causing pain. He had stepped back, out into the moon light, and without him to hold her up she had slid down the wall. She too stepped forward, and he could see the confusion on her face, her swollen lips, the strap of her dress that had fallen off her shoulder. She didn’t reach out to him. “What’s wrong?”He opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say. Thoughts were rushing through his head. ‘You’re being stupid, stupid, stupid, you want her, she wants you, you want her, she wants you…’ He swallowed. She wants me now. But for how long? The memories of rejection, and hope, and then repeated rejection, were making him feel sick. He had never been one for one night stands, his need for romance turning even doomed relationships into painfully long lived misery. He had always wanted love, and had fooled himself into thinking he’d found it time after time even when he knew deep down that it wasn’t right. He stared at her face. She was beautiful, and right there, and all he wanted. But he knew by now that what he wanted was never what he needed, and that there was always a price to pay. He just couldn’t. Couldn’t pay that price again. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I thought… ““Oh my gods. OH MY GODS! Her arm - she’s cut on the glass, she’s cut on the glass!!” The woman’s desperate cries were from nearby. That crash must have caused some damage. Layne was pulling her dress strap up, her eyes looking over his shoulder to see where the commotion was. A man’s voice could be heard over the din and laughter of the Forum. ‘Come on! Let’s get her to the infirmary. COME ON!” Layne blinked. “Well, I’d better…” She gestured vaguely towards the forum, the crowd, the infirmary. He nodded miserably. “Right.” She took a few steps, then turned around. He was rooted to the spot, unable to move. “I’ll see you later”. He watched her walk away, following her shape all the way to the infirmary door, through the crowd and the lights and the shadows, the initial sense of relief turning into regret. He didn’t want her to go. His erection was uncomfortable against his pants, and suddenly he felt uneasy about being in such a public place. He turned toward the building, breathing deeply. He should feel proud of himself, he thought. This had been his plan, to get away from people, to cut all threads that kept him involved in and indebted to society. But he felt so empty. He looked properly at the school wall for the first time, and saw what Layne had been looking at when he found her. The children had prepared drawings to celebrate Landing Day, with images that they had deemed important. One of them depicted two figures standing facing each other, in flight suits. The helmets clearly spelled out ‘Athena’ and ‘Apollo’, and Athena was holding out a big snake, coiled around her arm over a bottle labelled “Medesin”, while Apollo held a knife. Above their heads, the sun was shining from a blue sky, and the words ‘ATLANTIS’ were spelled out. It made him smile, and then wince. It was something special, what he had with Layne. He just didn’t know how to hold on to it.
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So what the hell was that? She switched the shower off, and reached for her towel. She had kept turning the events of last night over and over in her mind, but she just couldn’t figure it out. She kept returning to that kiss, that moment, and her whole being would respond to the memory of his body and his hands and his lips. She had never had a kiss like that, ever. Every other experience, and there had been a few, paled and withered in comparison, leaving her mind full of images only of him, his lips on her neck, his tongue in her mouth, his taut muscular stomach under her palms. The smell of his skin, the heat of his erection against… Enough! She rubbed her hair forcefully with the towel, then smoothed it back with more pressure than strictly necessary. So what had happened? She had been called away, that was true. But things had changed before then. She had felt him still and stiffen when she asked him to come back to her cabin, and if she didn’t know better she’d have thought he had been offended. But… what? He’d been happy to go at it outside a school house no less, surely he wouldn’t be shocked by being asked back to her house? Which brought her thoughts back around to Tamar. Tamar was beautiful, with creamy skin and plump pink lips. Had he promised something to her? But why would he have come to find Layne then? She had thought she had missed her chance, and then there he had been, striding toward her so confidently, as if it was the most natural thing in the world that he would come to find her. She had felt as if she knew him then, but of course she didn’t, not really. Could he be so flaky? A total slut, that woman had said. If he was, then no big loss, right? Except… those kisses. Those hands. Perhaps… She shook her head, pulling her fresh tanks over her head and grabbing her wash bag. He was going away today anyway. Off on the chem quest, and would be away for at least two weeks. That should be enough time for her to get her thoughts under control.She left the bath house, the early hour meaning that not many people were up and about. She could see some revellers still passed out where they had fallen the night before, and felt grateful that she had not touched the cocktails at all. It had been a busy night at the infirmary, and there would be plenty of walk in business today. There was all the lab work to do as well. The early morning air was fresh and fragrant, and still cool enough to feel refreshing. The streets and the fora had not yet been tidied up, and looked a bit dishevelled and ashamed in the aftermath of the big celebration. The sun light glinted in the light bulbs and the broken glass on the ground, and Layne frowned at all the broken shards. She was intimately familiar with the challenges that had been overcome to get the glassworks up and running, and was annoyed that their efforts, even if wonky, had met such an untimely end. Typical of humanity, she thought, to go to all that trouble just to muck up and use the end result to injure themselves. She was occupied with plans to collect all the broken glass in the ATLINTIS forum for recycling, and didn’t at first realise that someone was waiting for her outside the infirmary door. He got to his feet as she approached, and she noticed him with a jolt to her stomach. So much for control. He was clean and shaved, every button present and correct, and his pack neatly packed next to him. She pulled a hand through her still wet hair. “Hi.”He smiled tentatively. “Hi. I wanted to… I’m off, with Hallam and the others. I wanted to say good bye before I left.” She nodded, but didn’t say anything. “And,” he swallowed, “to say sorry. About last night.”She looked at him sharply. Should she? Did it matter? “So what happened?” He looked down, and she bit her lip, but now she was determined to keep going. She wasn’t a little girl any more. She knew she deserved a straight answer. “Are you in a relationship with someone else? Is that what’s going on?”He looked shocked. “Gods, no. It’s… complicated.”“How complicated could it be?” She hadn’t quite realised how annoyed she was. She was 31, she though with a wry smile, and she’d had enough of guessing and pining over men. Men who should be grownups too. “Either you like me. Or you don’t. Do you like me?”He looked at her and blinked. “Yes. You know I do.” Yeah I do she thought, forcing away a micromemory of his groan in her ear. She swallowed. “But I have a bad history with relationships, ok? I never ever get it right, and it ends up being terrible.”“Terrible how?”“Gods, you don’t let up, do you?” He looked around the nearly empty forum. “You want to talk about this here? Now?”She did. She didn’t. But she knew that wondering about it would be worse. She nodded. “I know that it’s better to know than not to know. That goes for a lot of things. So talk to me.”He gestured to the bench encircling the trunk of the large tree. “I have a few minutes before we ship out, so…” She sat down on the side of the tree that faced east, to catch the rays of the rising sun. She felt cold. He sat down gingerly beside her. “You probably know… I mean, it seems everyone knows about Kara and me, right?” He flicked a quick glance at her. Starbuck. ‘Completely devoted’. She nodded. “She was my brother’s girl when I met her. That’s some indication of how frakked up the whole thing was. And then I married Dee, and you probably know what a train wreck that was, I mean, it all happened right there on Galactica. It was a bad thing to do, and I did it in a panic, just to get over Kara. It didn’t work.” “The most beautiful woman in the fleet’. Right. She didn’t actually know much about it at all, but she had heard the rumours along with everyone else. Of Starbuck and Apollo, inseparable heroes, soul mates, star crossed lovers. And total assholes, according to some. You never quite knew what was true on a ship like the Galactica. “You know she killed herself, don’t you? I was a terrible husband, and it drove her mad.”Layne cleared her throat. “You know that’s not true, right? It doesn’t sound like a good marriage, but it’s not your fault that she did that.”“I think I had a part in it. It would have been better for her to have nothing to do with me. Better for both of them. All of them.”“So you’re never going to have a relationship again ever? You’re never going to…” she trailed off, her cheeks feeling hot.“That’s not… well... I'm no good.”“Ok. So you don’t want to hurt me. I suppose… I suppose I can appreciate that.” Her chest felt constricted, burning. She was not going to cry in front of him, she just wasn’t. ‘Completely devoted’. The woman had been gone for a year, and she still held such power over him. She stood up quickly, desperate to get away from him now. “Good luck.” She stretched out a hand awkwardly towards him, and after rising slowly he took it. His hand was warm. “It’s an important expedition. I really hope it’s successful.” Finally she looked into his face, and his eyes were luminescently blue in the horizontal morning sunlight. She tried to pull her hand back, but he held on to it.“Layne, I…” She pulled harder on her hand, and he let go. “Thanks. For everything. I’ll try to find you everything that you need.” He hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, still watching her with those impossible eyes. She couldn’t look away, and a flash of anger went through her. He shouldn’t have such power over her, he didn’t even want her. She had a sudden visceral memory of the helpless yearning she had had, all those years waiting around for a gesture of affection from Tim, for a moment when he’d deign to choose her company. She didn’t want to continue this conversation any longer. “Right. Bye then.” She turned away quickly, and walked back to the infirmary. He didn’t move, and she could feel him watching her until she closed the door behind her.
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“So everybody, listen up. We’re starting the new basin today, and that will require not only digging, but also use of both the pneumatic drills and six of the panels. It’s unclear how long the drilling will take all, so the group over at the day break will have to make do with manual tools today.” He was standing in the shadow cast by a huge jutting rock, under which they had created their makeshift work shop. The team were spread out around him, sitting on boulders or leaning on the rock face. All except Scully, who was sprawling on the ground trying to stretch out his calf muscle. “Is that cramp, or a just shameless bid for attention?” Everyone laughed, and Scully looked pleased with himself. “A bit of both.”“It’s gonna get hot, and we will all need to stay hydrated. Drink plenty of water, and remind each other as well. A bit of muscle cramp is one thing, but I don’t want to see any full on heat stroke. Take breaks, use the shade.” He looked around, taking notice of everyone. “Nat.”“Yeah.”“Mira.” “Here.”“Scully.”“Yep” Scully straightened out and got to his feet.“Simmo and Aghaistos” Lee raised his gaze to the two men sitting on a shelf in the rock face, and they waved. “You’re with me in the basin.” Groans and laughter was heard around the group. “Tim, you wanted to lead the work at the phosphates break? You take Gordon, Mellie and Andromache with you. Ivan, Shalini and Narcho, you’ve all worked very hard for the last few days, you do hunting detail today.” Shalini punched the air. “Yesss!”“Same goes for Ferdie, Joanna and Bailey – you do firewood and water. But nothing’s stopping you from doing a bit of hunting too, if you can combine it. Frank and Antinous, you’re in charge of cooking, same as always.”Everyone was getting to their feet, getting ready to start their respective tasks. “Remember – look out for each other, especially when away from the camp. Someone is always the look out.” He thought for a moment, then smiled. “And good hunting!”The work, though hard, progressed well through the morning. The group had a great sense of camaraderie and humour, making even hard and repetitive tasks manageable. They had started on a third evaporation pond to the south, and they would be able to add several more should the need arise. Tim Hallam was pleased with the salt yield, and was expanding the venture to extract phosphates from the rocky surroundings and harvest essential amino acids from the algae in the briny water. The lake itself was a fascinating eco system, with the algae turning the water a deep red and feeding a wide variety of astonishing creatures. Huge flocks of large pink birds would wade around the builders, sieving the water through their slanted beaks. At mid-day the sun was high in the sky, and it got unbearably hot. They all took a break in the shade, to drink water and eat a light meal. Some of them dozed off. Lee was sketching the pink birds in his note book, trying to capture the assymetric shape of the beaks. Tim Hallam spotted him and came over. “We’ve made good progress today even without the drills, the rock is very porous. The thing is, I’ve calculated how much weight the vehicles will be able to take back, and we’re approaching that now, even if we carry some of the equipment on the side. I think we should prepare to leave in about two days.”“Two days. That’s in line with your initial calculations, right?”“It is. I hadn’t thought we would be this successful, but I thought we wouldn’t have enough resources to stay any longer. The way you’ve set up the camp we could stay here a long time, but as we’ve got as much as we can carry we might as well go. We’ll definitely be back later though, this is a chemical cornucopia.”Lee felt a sudden unease. Life at the salt works, although dirty and exhausting, was simple and pretty enjoyable. Going back meant dealing with a wider set of challenges again. He wasn’t sure he was ready. He swallowed. “Of course.”“I suppose Layne will be pleased with this. She’s always trying to get people to contribute to the common good, and this will definitely hit the spot.”Lee had started at the sudden mention of her name, but bristled at the man’s condescending tone. “She’s done amazing things for the camp. She’s working non-stop to build facilities to help other people. I admire her.” “Well, she’s very… abrasive. She’s changed a lot. I knew her before all this, you know. We used to be an item back in the day. She was very sweet, very supportive. Had to be kept a secret of course, she was a PhD student and I was an important professor!” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively at Lee, who was too stunned to answer. So there was history between Layne and Tim. But he was so old. And so… self satisfied. How could she have ever liked this guy?“But she got very opinionated and difficult after she got her PhD, it wasn’t ever quite the same. We were supposed to have a getaway on Cloud 9, far away from ATLINTIS and anyone who might recognise us, but then the cylon attack happened and she started fighting with me even more. She kept nagging that we offer our services, to help take care of the fleet. But what could we do? We didn’t know anything, Dr Baltar laughed in her face!”Lee watched him cooly. “But you did. You worked on the tylium refinery, didn’t you?”Tim Hallam snorted. “Well, they forced me! Someone told them about my background, and they came for me. It may have been her for all I know. I was angry then, but it turned out alright for.”Lee wasn’t really listening anymore. She’d been in a relationship with this guy. This old, smug guy. That’s why she’d been on Cloud 9 when the attack happened. He had thought that was an odd place for her to be. I guess I should be grateful to this asshole for getting her out of Caprica, he thought. He didn’t feel grateful though, he felt angry. Angry that she had wasted herself on this man. Angry that this man had ridiculed her and made her feel unvalued.“I can see her point now though. My time on the Hitei Kan was a real eye opener, and I realised that it was important to contribute in whatever way I could. That it felt good.” He took a deep swig of water. “I still stay away from her, mind you. She’s turned into such a ball breaker, I can’t get my head around it.”“Good for you.” Lee said quietly. He didn’t elaborate on why.
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The mid day heat was stifling even in the shade of the infirmary, but Layne was too restless to stop her work. She had carefully laid out all the surgical instruments, sterilised and ready to use on a clean drape, and was surveying them intensely. If she would have to perform an emergency c-section, she would have to act quickly. Scalpels, check. Retractors, check. Locking forceps, check. Suture materials and clamps, check. Ether, ethanol, clean drapes, check, check and check. She was going over the motions in her head, the possible problems, the necessary check points. Tina’s baby was turned completely now, its head pointing downward and the back curved out into Tina’s bulging tummy, all ready to come into the world and meet its parents. But these things could change. The obstetrics book was open to the section about c-sections on a chair next to her. She had taken it with her out of the library, and neither Calum nor anyone else would have wanted to get in her way. Every spare moment she had she was reading the book now, some passages so familiar that she knew them by heart. But every birth is different, and some things about the human body can only be learned through experience, not words. How do you know when a woman is really ready to push? What sort of support suits her best? What position will be the safest for the birth? And when, if things are not going well, do you make the decision for c-section? Layne was determined to do it if needed, but was torn with uncertainty about how to make the judgement. Major surgery was dangerous even under ideal circumstances, and here, with access only to crude methods of anaesthesia, pain relief and prevention of infection, it was a gamble. At which point would it be worth the risk?She checked the battery of the ultrasound machine, and then swapped it to the fetal heart rate monitor that Tina had built herself, finding the battery fully charged and both machines responsive and correct. She sighed. Just the same as yesterday.“Checking all the equipment again? Can’t be too careful.” Sherman groaned as he sat down heavily on a chair, exhausted by the effort of crossing the ATLINTIS forum in the heat and climbing the two steps to the infirmary. He was doing better, but was still in recovery.“Yes. Talk me through the c-section again.”Sherman leaned back in his chair, both hands on the top of the walking stick he had brought with him. “Ok, so first you make sure that you have support. Wanda and Raj and I will all be here, if not, Calum will get us. Then you check your supplies and the medication, your suture materials. If she bleeds, she’ll need fluids, and perhaps a blood transfer. You have your donors?”“Yes, I have five suitable, and they are aware.”“So you have that. All the instruments in case you’ll need to go down the surgical route.” He looked at the ether bottle. “I don’t like ether, you know what I think about that. But it’s better than nothing.” She nodded.“We all need to be scrubbed in, and wear clean things. Cover our heads. Once the patient is down, and you check her responses, you have to work fast. Clean the area once more, then find a line above the pubic bone, and draw a line as long as your hand on the skin. You know what pressure you need to use on the scalpel, you’ve done it before. I’ll be right there with you. Follow the line with the blade, and rather too long than too careful. Use your retractors, we’ll help you, and then cut the uterus with a fresh scalpel. Wanda will suction the amniotic fluid. You’re gonna have to get in there to get the head disengaged from the pelvis, and it may take some work, pushing upwards to get the head to come out through the incision you’ve made. Someone, Calum probably, will have to keep an eye on Tina then, because the baby is pushing on her stomach and if she’s sick there is a breathing problem.”Layne clenched her jaw. There was so much that could go wrong.“Once the baby it out you can relax a bit, take your time. Pull on the umbilical cord gently until you get the placenta, and check that it is whole. You have to get it all out. Clamp the umbilical cord. Then you start the stitching, and I know how good you are at that.” He smiled. “You’re gonna be great!”Layne didn’t answer immediately, instead going back to the table to check once more on the instruments. She knew that she was getting obsessive, but it seemed that the only thing that could interrupt her thoughts about disaster was to go through her preparations once more. She would need blood bags for any donor blood, and needles too. She walked over the cupboards where the sharpened and sterilised needles were kept.“Listen, Layne. Have you thought about the council elections?”She stared into the cupboard, identifying all the different gauge needles and seeing with satisfaction that they were well stocked for all their needle needs. “Yes. It’s a good thing to do.” She pulled a box out to check the seal.“It’s a damned good thing to do. What I want to know is, have you thought about standing for election yourself?”She turned around to look at him sharply. “Are you mad? Nobody would vote for me.”“That’s not what I hear. I have a list with 78 signatures right here saying otherwise.” He fished out a document from his pocked and waved it at her. She walked over and took the paper from his hand. She recognised every name. Imagine that. “Plenty of people like you, Layne. And what’s more important, plenty of people can see that you work hard for the camp.”“I’d still be 22 signatures short.”“This is what I got in one day, and I’m an old man. With cancer.”“You don’t have cancer anymore.”“And you’ve got my vote. You’d have it anyway, for what it’s worth. But you’d have to do some work yourself too.”“Thanks Sherman. I appreciate it.” She put the paper down, and leaned down to give him a hug. He patted her back fondly.“You’re a great force for good. Layne, and we need you. I know that running for the council isn’t your thing. But you have to think about it scientifically. What if only people who want power would run. What kind of council would we get then?”She thought of Lee. How frustrated he had made her with his refusal to run. How annoyed she had been with his principled stance. She squared her shoulders. “Alright. I’ll give it a go.”“That’s my girl!” Sherman beamed, and tapped his cane on the floor for emphasis. “And about that other thing. Young Adama leaving?” He peered up at her. What did he know? “You’re better off. Much better. He’s a nice boy, but not good enough for you. That wife of his, he was a real bastard to her. Mark my words. There was never anyone but Starbuck for him, and anyone who got in the way got hurt.”She nodded, unwilling to either protest of acquiesce. She knew he was right. She wasn’t going to think about him anymore. 78 signatures. In one day. She had recognised the names on there. People with relatives who needed insulin. People who had received antibiotics. The man she had liberated from a melanoma, and the woman with a broken arm. The man whose shoulder she had slipped back in its socket, the parents of the child with food poisoning. There was a warm sensation in her chest, and as she took a deep breath she felt a smile bloom across her face. They like me, she thought. And I like them.
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His muscles ached after another day of building, and his skin was sticky with the salt that never quite went away. The fresh water they had was kept for drinking. The air cooled quickly after sunset, and Lee relished the chill he got when the sweat evaporated off his chest. The climate by the salt lake was hotter than anything he had experienced, and only night brought relief from the relentless heat. Lee loved watching the lake at sunset, when the sun glowing in the red water turned it to liquid fire, and the luminescent pink birds would take off in large flocks like dancing flames. The sun had gone down, but it was not quite dark. The crescent moon was high in the western sky, and the stars were as bright as diamonds. He was lazily seeking out the constellations, so different from the ones he had learned and yet mapping some of the same stars. Trying to get his bearings in this kaleidoscope star system made his mind boggle. He should sleep, the gods knew he needed it. But just like every other night, despite his exhaustion, sleep evaded him. He would work at a furious tempo all through the day, keeping himself busy in the hope that the memory of her would fade, that he would start to really feel, rather than just understand, that his decision had been right. That it was better for them both if he stayed away. But as soon as he took a moments rest, the images of her would come flooding back. Her directness. Her green eyes. The way she had dived for that snake. The way she had grabbed his hand at the wake, the way her face changed when she smiled, the way she had stroked his neck, the way she felt, the way she smelled. What she had said, and what he had said in return. All those memories were getting stronger, not weaker. He sighed, and threw an arm over his eyes.“Lee? Lee, are you awake?” Scully’s whisper was soft, he could barely hear it over the chirping of the cikadas. “Yeah.”“Gods, I hate this place. I can’t wait to go back. Even my toes are sticky with damn salt.”“Really? I thought you loved it. You seem insanely happy all the time”, Lee said with a low snigger. “I think everyone believes you’re gonna stay here forever. We’re gonna make you the mayor of this lake.”“Very funny. What’s wrong with a bit of positive attitude, eh? We can’t all be broody drama queens like you.” Scully laughed quietly as Lee threw a well-aimed pebble at his sleeping bag. “But I’m glad it’s almost over. I miss Bram.”Almost over. They were bringing their haul back the next day, to start the purification process and for Tim to plan the next necessary steps.“So – are you gonna stay? Or are you gonna go? A few of the guys have been asking. You know – for the council elections. We’d all sign for you. If you’re staying, that is.”If he was staying. It was an odd mixture of emotions, the pride and gratitude for Scully’s confidence in him mingled with the dread of accepting an honour he was not qualified for, of being exposed as an impostor. “Scully. Thanks man, really. I appreciate it. But I’m just… the last thing anyone needs. You of all people should know that, look what happened to Lewis. Look what happened to Bram for gods’ sake.” “Come on Lee. You know you’re not to blame for that. You’ve always done your best, and your best is a hell of a lot better than most people’s best. I’m not stupid, you know. I don’t believe in you because you’re good looking, or because you can dance a hell of a water dance.” Scully was waving a handkerchief at him in the dusk, and Lee couldn’t help but laugh.“You’re such a dick. You know I didn’t ask to do that.”“No. But you did it when that little school teacher insisted, and you did it well. Let me ask you something – do you blame me for Lewis’s death?”“No, of course not.”“But do you think that I’m the worst person in the world for allowing my partner – the person I love most in the world - to be attacked by a lion?”“No, it wasn’t your fault.”“Can’t you see? It wasn’t your fault either. You hold yourself up to these impossible standards, and of course you’re gonna fail. But you’re not a god, Lee. You’re just named after one. You’re gonna make mistakes, and if you’re in charge of things they’re gonna be important mistakes. You have to forgive yourself.”“Yeah, well. It’s not that easy.”‘What do I know. But I can tell you one thing. I have known you for a long time now, and I know that you are happiest when you are being of use to other people. Even working with that hard-ass Ishay – most people would do anything to get out of it, but that’s the most happy I’ve seen you. Not sitting under a tree eating nuts.”“She’s special.”“So are you. Everyone here would vote for you. Everyone. That’s not because your name is Adama, or because of the things you did when you were a warrior. It’s because of how you act now. How you’ve lead the work, how you resolve conflict. How you look after people.”They were both silent for a while, and Lee saw a shooting star cross the sky to the east. He wondered if Scully had fallen asleep, when the silence was interrupted once more.“So, are you?”‘Am I what?”‘Staying.”“Yeah. I am.” He knew it as he said it. Of course he was going to stay. He was enjoying the work, he was enjoying seeing a problem, thinking of a solution, testing it, seeing the result. True, he was directing others. But he wasn’t asking them to kill. He wasn’t asking them to die. They were building something, together, for the benefit of everyone else, and it was fun. “Good night Lee.”“Good night.”He was staring up at the stars. It was true. The most fun he had had in as long as he could remember was working with Layne. Being with her made him feel like the person he wanted to be. There was an energy and positivity surrounding all his memories of her. Almost all his memories of her. He would have to put that right. An electrifying determination filled him, and he took a deep breath. It felt good to once more know exactly what he wanted, to have that sense of purpose reset his inner compass needle. And it was pointing straight to her.
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The morning sun was warm on her back as she slowly brushed Penelope’s fur in long smooth motions. Penelope stood very still, occasionally turning her head to gently nudge the crown of Layne’s head with her chin. Her eyes were almost completely shut. Layne enjoyed the warmth and closeness of the large animal, and the meditative repetitiveness of the work. Penelope’s fur gleamed like honey after being so thoroughly smoothed by the brush. She dropped everything when she saw Calum’s pale face, and ran with him back to the forum to find Tina eating a banana, with her feet in Deirdre’s lap. The contractions had been light at first, with up to fifteen minutes between, and had not begun to speed up until after midnight, when the waters broke. After this they had increased in frequency and strength, and Tina needed all their support to help her breathe through them. When Layne examined her at 3 in the morning, and found her still only about 2 centimetres open, Tina had groaned in frustration. The baby’s heart beat was strong and steady when Layne sought it out with the ultrasound, and there was no reason to speed things up yet, or introduce continuous heart rate monitoring. They worked through the increasingly painful contractions as the baby was slowly descending into the pelvis, trying to visualise how the cervix was widening through every contraction and preparing to allow the baby through. Deirdre, Wanda, Raj and Sherman were on standby in the back room, where they could rest and even sleep unless they were needed, but Layne and Calum were working, squeezing Tina’s hipbones hard to relieve pain through the contractions and helping her walk around in between. At six o’clock in the morning, as the first pink light of the morning was brightening the infirmary, Layne examined her and found the cervix obliterated and ready. She swiped it with her finger, hoping to gently encourage stronger contractions, and Tina roared at her. Layne drew a deep breath and braced Tina’s hips in preparation for the oncoming contraction. “I can’t do this! I can’t do it anymore!”“Yes you can. Your baby is coming now, that’s what the pain is.”As the contraction abated, Layne looked into Tina’s face. She was pale and sweaty, with dark circles under her eyes. Layne felt her heart swell in her chest with love and fear for her friend. She looked so small and fragile, too fragile to be able to handle what was next. Layne swallowed and forced her own fear to the side. “You’re doing great! You’re so strong, and soon your baby will be here. You’re completely open now, that’s what I wanted to say. We should get you off this bed, and to that stool over there. You can lean on me and Calum. Shall we do it?”Tina looked over to the stool in the corner with fierce determination on her face. “Yes. I want to see my baby.”Calum supported Tina as she walked slowly over towards the chair, and halfway there another contraction came along making her groan into Calum’s shoulder. Layne sprinted to her side to squeeze her pelvis to give some relief, and then helped her get seated on the stool. Tina leaned back onto Calum’s chest, bracing for the next contraction. Layne seated herself cross legged in front of her. “Your baby is ready to come out, and if you want to push through the next contraction, go ahead.” The contraction was strong and Tina’s face was contorted in pain.“Push! Come on, push through it! Great job!” The contraction ended, and they breathed deep breaths together through the respite.“It feels as if I’m gonna break. Layne, I’m afraid.”“You just go for it – I’ll look after you so that you don’t tear. That’s my job. I’ve done it before.” The warm clean water and towels were ready at her side for when the head would crown. She looked into Tina’s face, trying to conjure up confidence and ease that she wasn’t really feeling. Tina pressed her lips together, nodding. “I just… I want my mum.” Layne nodded. “I know.” She smiled. “Push!” Tina pushed through the contraction, bracing against Calum and screaming right out. Layne could feel the crown of the head lower in the birth canal after the contraction and she smiled at Tina. “It’s coming now.” She wondered if she should add the heart rate monitor now, but another contraction demanded her attention, and the head was even closer after. She prepared her towels by her side, and for the next contraction she pressed the wet towel to the perineum to brace for the impact of the head. “Calum! You have to brace her hips now, give it all you’ve got!”“Cal, for frak’s sake, do something!” Calum was just as pale as his wife, but all of Layne’s attention was focussed on Tina. Raj had entered the room quietly, and replaced the bowl of water next to Layne with a fresh one. Tina was working so hard, every muscle straining through the strong and frequent contractions.“Great! You’re doing great! Push! The head is coming!” Tina was sobbing with exhaustion, pushing furiously through the contraction, and the head, with hair stuck in fine dark rivulets to the scalp, was slowly emerging. It retracted slightly as the contraction ended. “Tina, the next one, that’s it. It’s soon over, the head is here. You can reach down and feel it.”Tina shook her head, and squeezed her eyes shut, leaning back into Calum for strength. Layne and Calum made eye contact, and Layne nodded to him. “Here we go.” Tina cried out again, a reverberating groan unlike anything Layne had heard from her before. The head descended again, and Layne braced the perineum with the warm towel and cradled the head gently with the other hand. “Yes! You’re doing it!”Tina whimpered and her nostrils flared. “Here’s another one, push!”. The baby’s face was facing away from Layne, and one of the tiny shoulders came with the next contraction. Layne chest contracted when she saw the dark umbilical cord coiled around the neck. She clenched her teeth together as she crooked her finger around it and gently pulled. It came loose, and she looped it over the head, her heart beating even faster in her chest. She could feel the prickles of adrenaline on her top lip and her arms. She renewed her pressure on the towel, and nudged another towel forward under the baby with her leg. “Push!” Tina groaned and pushed, and the slippery torso slid onto Layne’s forearm. She tossed the towel away, it’s function now over, and used both hands to cradle the baby as it slowly emerged from her mother’s body. It was a girl. Layne slowly pulled the baby toward her, the adrenaline still coursing through her body and no time yet for relief. The eyes were squeezed shut, but the tiny lips were moving, and she could feel the whole little compact body squirming in the unaccustomed cool air. I don’t care how many fingers and toes there are, Layne thought. She’s alive. She’s breathing. She’s wonderful. “She’s wonderful.” Tina opened her eyes, and both she and Calum watched their little girl being held up to them, and then placed on Tina’s chest. “It’s a girl? I have a girl?” They exchanged a look, and then immediately looked back to the baby.“Good job Tina. And you Calum. Can you stay like this for a moment Tina? You need to get the placenta out, and it’s already on its way.”“Yeah, I’m fine. Look at her. Wow…” Tina didn’t even look away from her baby’s face, and Layne focussed instead on the placenta. There was a gush of blood, and the cord slid out further, indicating that the placenta was being released. Layne pulled gently on the cord, and cast a furtive look on Tina’s face. She appeared completely unaffected, the onslaught of the birth making all other discomfort seem small by comparison. “Can you push please? Push hard, come on.” Layne pulled on the cord, and the placenta slid out. It was intact, and she looked up at Calum to see if he wanted to cut the cord. His face was gray and sweaty. Layne quickly put the clip on the cord and snipped it off, as Raj came over with a banana.“Calum man, congratulation! When’s the last time you ate something?” Calum looked blank, and Layne and Raj exchanged a look. Of course. He’d been working all night, so focused on his wife that he’d forgotten about his own condition. Raj peeled the banana and held it up to him. “Eat this. Now.” Raj grabbed Calum’s shoulders, and lead him over to one of the beds to sit down.“Tina, do you think you can stand? I want to take you over to that bed and examine you, ok?”Tina raised her eyes to Layne’s face, and her smile was the most radiant thing Layne had ever seen. “Layne. Thank you. I’m just… I could never have done this without you, never. Thank you so much.” Finally, the tension of the night, and the last few weeks was slipping away from Layne, and she could feel the burn as hot tears of relief rose in her eyes. She wiped at them clumsily with the back of her hand. “We did it.”“Yeah.” Tina wrapped an arm more securely around the baby. ‘If you help me get up, I’m sure I can get over there. I just don’t want to drop her.”Layne examined Tina thoroughly, but couldn’t find anything that required stitching. She had assisted Sherman at several births, always with her heart in her mouth and trying not to think about all the things that could go wrong. There had always been a need for stitches. She hadn’t realised that with all her reading and careful thinking about the process, she might be better at assisting at a birth than he was. Her friend was fine, she had helped her bring a new life into the world, and the little girl was just now latching on to suckle for the very first time. The sun was now streaming in through the windows, illuminating Tina and her suckling baby, and Layne felt a surge of love for them both. I’ll look after you, she thought. I can do it.“Will you stay with me for a while? I think Calum is out of it for the time being.”“Of course. I’ll stay.”
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The journey back had taken three days and three nights, one day longer than the journey there. The trucks were weighed down with the ores and the salt, and even though the sun was beating down it was not enough to keep the batteries charged without stopping. The climate on the savannah, though hot, had been a welcome change from the extreme heat of the salt basin as there was the occasional breeze. They were all musing about how much they missed the camp, missed eating vegetables, and above all, how wonderful it would be to reacquaint themselves with the joys of the bathhouse. No one had had a proper wash for three weeks, and although they had been able to wash off the worst of the grime, the salt penetrated everywhere and gave both clothes and skin a sticky feeling. As they got nearer to the camp around midday, Lee was overcome with restlessness. He wanted to seek out Layne immediately, but felt a responsibility to make sure all the cargo arrived safely and that everyone was accounted for. His eyes kept darting towards the ATLINTIS forum as they made their way along the compound street, but although plenty of people came out to greet them, there was no sign of her.“Welcome back!”“We were beginning to wonder if you had decided to split.”“That’s a good haul your bringing – is there any left out there?”“There’s plenty out there, this is just the beginning!” Tim was beaming at everyone, basking in the attention and the feeling of success. Bram came hopping at top speed, given momentum by his crutches, and threw them to the side to give Scully a big kiss. “Oh man, you reek. What, a couple of weeks away from civilisation and you forget basic hygiene?”Scully laughed and hugged Bram close. “If that’s what it takes. You know, I have single handedly convinced Adama to stay and run for the council, how about that?”“Really?” Bram turned to Lee. “You’re really staying? And you’re running for the council?”“Yeah. If I can get the signatures to let me stand that is.”“Everyone on the excursion has already signed!” Scully said proudly, pulling the folded piece of paper out of his top pocket.“Ok, give that to me. If you two go to the bath house and get cleaned up, I promise I’ll have the signatures for you by the time you get back.”Lee hesitated. “I was going to…”Scully smiled. “Trust me, you don’t want to go to see her smelling like this. Better get cleaned up and put on something pretty.”Lee shook his head. “That transparent, eh?”“I wouldn’t say that. But I know you pretty well by now.”They requisitioned some clothes from the disconcertingly vast stores in the compound, and headed over to the bath house. It was good to get clean, but initially he hurried, wanting to finish and hurry to see her. As he stood under the hot water his movements became slower and slower, as he considered what he wanted to say. She’d be pleased about him staying, surely she would. That was what she had wanted all along. But that other stuff… his mind wandered back to that morning. He would be able to explain, it was all so clear in his mind. How being away from her had focussed him, and made him realise that the past was in the past. That compared to her, everything else faded away. He switched the water off, and dried himself quickly. He may not have a plan, he admitted to himself, but if he could just see her again it would all fall into place.He rushed out of the bath house with his hair still wet and his tanks sticking awkwardly to his haphazardly dried body, taking two steps at a time, and almost ran into someone coming up the stairs. He staggered for a moment, at first not realising that it was her. She looked alarmed.“You’re back?”He stared at her. “Only just. I wanted to come to see you. I was just… We didn’t have any…”She interrupted him, looking him up and down with a frown between her eyebrows. “Why? What’s wrong with you?”“What? No, no, I’m not hurt. I wanted to see you because…” He faltered, looking into her serious face. Her dark eyebrows were pulled together, and she looked annoyed. So much for picking up where they had left off. Then he looked at her forehead. “Is that… blood?”She lifted a hand to her forehead and touched it gingerly. “Probably. It’s not mine, but that’s why I need a wash. Tina had her baby!” Suddenly, a radiant smile spread across her face, and changed her countenance completely. It took his breath away. “I did everything, and they are both fine. Well, Calum had a bit of a hypo, but he’s fine now. Her name is Rachel. Rachel Layne!” Her smile faltered, and she looked down.“That’s amazing Layne, I’m so happy for you! And for her. For all of them.”“Thanks. Well I’ll…” She gestured vaguely toward the bath house, “I’d better get cleaned up. I’ll see you later.”“Layne, hang on.” He reached out to grasp her arm without thinking, and released it quickly when she started. “Sorry, I just… I wanted to tell you. I’ve decided to stay. To stay and run for the council.”She gave him a long look, and nodded. “Good. Great. That’s just… great.” She nodded “I’m running too actually.”“You are? I thought you didn’t want to.”“I changed my mind.” “Can I come and see you?”“Why?” She looked straight at him now, her face serious.“I realised a few things while I was away. A lot of things actually. I missed you.”She didn’t smile, instead her frown deepened. But then she nodded. “I do need your help with something. Can you come by tomorrow?”He felt deflated, but this was better than nothing. He squared his shoulders. “Sure, tomorrow.” He smiled at her. “And congratulations on Rachel Layne. I know how important this was to you.” He walked off and didn’t turn around, even though it felt as if she was watching him as he continued down the street.
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The warm and silky weight of Rachel’s downy head resting against her throat filled her with an intense feeling of wellbeing. It felt as if her lungs could somehow take in more air, and her heart was beating more strongly and evenly in her chest. The forum was coming alive with morning activity, and she was standing on the steps outside the infirmary holding Rachel while Calum helped Tina get dressed and ready to go back to their own home. Layne didn’t feel ready to let them go. She lowered her nose and sniffed carefully at the crown of the baby’s head, enjoying the still fresh astonishment at how feral, yet incredibly sweet the scent of the baby was. She closed her eyes and breathed in a little more deeply. How was it even possible that something could be this lovely?She looked up, and looked straight into Lee’s eyes. He looked as startled as she felt, and for a moment they just stared at each other. “What are you doing here?” she blurted out.“You asked me to come. Yesterday.”She bent her head to Rachel’s sleeping one to gain some time and composure. “Yes. I did. I’m sorry.” She kept her voice quiet to not disturb the baby. ‘I thought you could help me with something.”Calum and Tina appeared in the doorway behind her. “Are you going to let us just take her home?” Tina laughed. “I can’t quite believe it.”“You’d better hurry, I’m about to change my mind.” Layne carefully handed over the sleeping baby to Calum. “I wonder if you’ll make it all the way across the forum before she wakes up and wants to feed again.”Lee shook Calum’s hand and gave Tina a careful hug. “Congratulations. Nice work Tina.”“Thanks! I was amazing. And Layne was amazing, so amazing. If you’re ever gonna have a baby, you should totally do it with her. I mean…” “I’ll keep that in mind.”Calum laughed and shook his head. “She’s sleep deprived. We both are. Come on, let’s get you both home.” He kissed Layne’s cheek while cradling the baby, and Tina gave her a big hug.“I’ll come over tomorrow. Or later today.”“You just stay put, I’ll come to you. Rest and breastfeed, eat and drink, and let everyone else do the running around.”Layne and Lee watched the little family as they walked across the forum. “So?”“Yes. I need your help. It’s time to harvest the anti-venom from Penelope.” He looked blank. “The what?” “The snake venom we injected. It’s been three weeks, and there will be lots of antibodies by now. I need to collect blood, quite a lot of blood actually, and I need you to keep her calm and happy. She likes you.”He nodded. “Ok.”“She’s over at my new paddock. I’ll just get the needles and the blood bags, and then we can head over there.”It had been a mistake to ask for his help, but she had panicked a bit when she had run into him the day before. Somehow her exhausted mind had gone blank, unable to recall even one of the phrases that she had rehearsed for the occasion. But she would make the best of it, and she would make it clear that she had no interest in him, and that she didn’t expect anything from him. He seemed very at ease, strolling along with his hands in his pockets. It grated on her that he should be so carefree while she felt so awkward.“So, the expedition – how was it?”“It was good. It was a crazy place, incredibly hot and difficult to work in, but we had a good team and worked well together. We got a lot of the things you wanted, but you’ll have to come over and see for yourself if it’s up to your exacting standards.” He grinned at her, and she pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling back. I’m not going to enjoy this, she told herself. That would just make it worse when he took it away again.“Well, salt and phosphates are not the only things we need. Far from it. We need metals as well, and calcium, and potassium.”He seemed unfazed by her unfriendly tone. “Yeah, absolutely. We were talking about where best to find metals actually, and there seems to be a good chance on finding iron and copper locally. Don’t know about the other stuff though – you’d have to talk to Tim.”She grimaced involuntarily, and felt his lingering gaze. There must be something else to talk about. Something that would rattle him. “And you decided to stay here. And run for a seat on the council. That’s a big change. Why did you do that?”He nodded. “It happened gradually, I just realised that I wasn’t uncomfortable with the responsibility anymore. It helps that we’re not fighting robots.” He was silent for a moment. “It’s really because of you. You made me work with you and others here, and at first I hated it. As you well know.” He shot her a sideways glance which she did not return. “But out there, on those salt flats, I really felt that I was comfortable, happy even, to work my ass off for the group and for everyone back at the camp. That I would be bored leaving it all behind.” He looked around. ‘Is this your place?”“Yes. Penelope is over there by those trees. Just be nice and calm and talk to her like you do. Here, put the halter over her head.” She opened the gate and watched him walk ahead, and gave herself a moment to gather her thoughts. This wasn’t going the way she had imagined. She must have forgotten just how powerful his presence was, and how much it affected her, but here he was again and it felt as if he was radiating more warmth and energy than ever. She felt happy that he was staying, happy to be talking to him again. She had to remind herself of Sherman’s advice, the bitterness of the rejection, and how she had promised herself to never let anyone make her feel that way again. Not even someone as charming as him.She stalked over to Lee and Penelope a bit more aggressively than she had intended. “I’m just going to brush her a bit first, she likes that and it relaxes her. You can do it too on the other side.” She handed him a camp made brush, and started brushing Penelope’s flank. Penelope’s eyes remained half lidded, and she stilled to enjoy the grooming. After a while Layne could hear a low gurgling sound that she knew by now corresponded to deep camel contentment. “She likes it. You keep brushing, and I’m going to collect the sample now.” She slipped out the needle and syringe, and connected it to the first collection bag. “Ok, I’m going to prick her now, be ready.” She inserted the needle, needing to apply a fair bit of pressure to pierce the skin, and got clean through into the jugular vein. The blood flowed immediately. She had decided to collect two litres of blood for the initial batch of anti-venom, as that would be a volume that Penelope could easily donate without adverse effect. The camel appeared oblivious to the needle, still gurgling appreciatively as Lee stroked her. Damn it – even camels liked him.When she had collected enough she withdrew the needle and pressed a compress to Penelope’s neck to stop the bleeding. Lee gave Penelope a final scratch behind her ear. “Well done old girl, you were very brave.” Then he smiled. “And you too, Penelope.”Layne rolled her eyes. “I think I was pretty brave. I hate the thought of hurting her. Would you like some water before we head back?”“Great, thanks.” He walked behind her toward the cabin, which was sitting on top of the hill, enveloped by a shading porch and with a central door. The water was in a covered bucket on the porch, and she poured some into two lopsided tumblers.“It’s not very cold.” She drank deeply, and he watched her. He didn’t touch his. She lowered her glass, and averted her eyes. “Right. We should…”“Layne.” He reached out slowly, and gently took hold of her hand. “I was happy to help. I’m happy to help with any of your projects. But I also needed to talk to you.” He was quiet until she looked up to meet his gaze. “I have missed you every moment since I left, and there was nothing complicated about it at all. I just missed you. And once I realised that I knew what I wanted, I just wanted to get back here and see you again. Because I want you.” His eyes were dark in the shade of the porch, and his hand was warm and rough. He slowly entwined his fingers with hers, and she squeezed his hand to make him stop. She took a deep breath.“Stop that. You can’t do that. Just… change your mind. It doesn’t work like that.” She glared at him. “I know that you loved the amazing Kara Thrace, and I understand. Believe me, I do. She was great. But I also know that I will never be someone’s second choice ever again, because I know I deserve better. So I’m just going to stop you right there and say – let’s not do this.”He didn’t let go of her hand, and didn’t look away. Instead he leaned in closer. “It’s not like that. But I can see that you would think so.” She frowned. “For me, that’s all in the past. You’re all that I want.” He was so close, and her heart was beating wildly in her chest. The light glinted on the side of his face, outlining his jaw and cheek bone. “But I understand if you don’t believe me. So I have a favour to ask.” He lifted her hand, which was still entwined with his, and placed it on his chest. She could feel his heart beating, strong and steady. It felt good. “Will you allow me,” he pressed her fingers slightly, “to try to convince you that I’m completely serious?” His voice was calm and low, his gaze steady. She had found him compelling before, and with this new level of confidence he was completely bloody irresistible. She was speechless, and unable to look away. “Will you allow me,” he placed his other hand on top of the one pressing her fingers to his chest, “to show you,” his fingers trailed down her wrist and the inside of her forearm to the crook of her elbow, “that you are the one I want?” He pressed his fingertips lightly along the soft skin on her forearm, and then circled them around to smooth her elbow with his thumb. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She swallowed. She didn’t want to say yes, but she couldn’t say no either. She nodded. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his hand swept from her elbow her waist. He maintained eye contact as he slowly closed the distance between them, stopping for a moment to gently rub her nose with his. Then he leaned in all the way and kissed her. He gently nudged her lips with his, and the touch was so light the she didn’t know if it was his lips or his breath warming her skin. His lips were warm and a bit chapped, and when she swiped at his lower lip with her tongue to get a taste of it he sighed into her mouth. A pulse of desire punched her in the stomach, and she slid her hand up to his neck and into his hair to grab his head and deepen the kiss. He released her palm on his chest to wrap his arm around her waist, and pressed her to him as she tasted and felt his tongue and his lips and his hot breath. “Ok, ok, ok, that’s enough.” She placed her palms on his shoulders and leaned back, and he immediately stepped away. She was breathing shakily, and so was he, and his pupils were dark and dilated. “I... I don’t know what to say.”“You don’t have to say anything. Take as much time as you need. Just give me a chance.”This was basically the opposite of what she had decided to do. All she could muster was another nod.
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“I want to make condoms. And acceptable tampons. Condoms and tampons.”For a moment Lee’s face was a study of shock, before he quickly looked down to hide a smile. “Right. And those are really important things, I can see that. They would make people’s lives better.”“I’ve given it a lot of thought. There are so many of things that we need, but these are my priorities.”“The thing is, you can’t really lead with that. You need to introduce yourself first, let everyone know what your background is. Why they should trust you, basically. Then, you say what your priorities are, like healthcare, sexual health, well being, and what the problems we face are. After that you describe your primary aims to address those problems – your condoms and your tampons. Otherwise, you won’t convince anybody who isn’t already on board.”She was studying him intently, her green eyes unwavering under the severe dark eyebrows. Then she nodded. “I take your point. I used to get that criticism in research seminars too. The thing is, back then, I could take half a beta blocker before I addressed a conference. I can’t believe I’m really doing this undrugged.”“You’ll be great, of course you will. You’re amazing.” He hadn’t meant to add the last bit, and bit his lip as she fixed him with another piercing look. She didn’t smile.“Easy for you to say. Speaking of which, what are you going to say? What are your ‘primary aims’ going to be?”They were sitting in the shade under the tree outside the ATLINTIS, Layne having finished a training session in the lab with two new recruits. Insulin day was in full swing, with people from the whole camp and from further afield milling around the forum sharing food and news. The election was only three days away, and all the candidates who had received the required one hundred signatures had duly registered their interest at the library. Layne and Lee were among the 33 hopeful, from whom twelve would be elected to form the first council. The night before the election they would all get the chance to explain their plans to the electorate, in an open session at the amphitheatre. Layne’s worry about the prospect of addressing the crowd had made her stop avoiding Lee and instead ask for his help, and he’d been more than happy to oblige.“I’ve given it a lot of thought too. Did you know that Calum kept all my books of Colonial law?”She shook her head. “I didn’t even know that you had books like that.” She frowned. “Why did you have them with you anyway?”“It’s a long story. The thing is, I left them behind thinking that I’d never need them again, but Calum took care of them. And we need something now. Not Colonial law, but a new set of rules for how we interact and keep records of things. And even how we are going to punish crime if it comes to that.”“And you would make new laws?”“I would suggest them. We would all have to agree. It would be a long process, but I’d start it.”“It’s a good idea. I didn’t know that you were interested in that sort of thing.”“I’m interested in everything.” He smiled at her, and she blinked. “I would support your policies too – public health is the key to keeping a functioning society here. Birth control – that’s genius!”She smiled back for the first time, and he felt elated. He couldn’t stop looking at her. “I know, right? But I need to convince everyone else too. So how do I do it? How do you do it? How do you get everyone’s attention the way you do?”“I just told you – prepare! Don’t just tell them what you want, but why and how. Make them want it too. The only way to make it convincing is to work hard at it and practise.”“Hi Layne! Lee!” Caprica approached, carrying two mugs. “I looked for you in the infirmary. I’ve brought you something.”They both rose and peered at the mugs. “What is it?”Caprica held one of them out, gently swirling the contents to release the rich aroma. Layne sniffed it gingerly, and then more deeply. “Is that… Caprica, is that coffee?”Caprica grinned. “It sure is. I roasted it myself, and it’s pretty good. I brought it here myself so that I could see your face. Here, have some.” She handed one mug to Layne, and one to Lee, and they both sipped it in silence.“Wow. That’s amazing.” The sweet and earthy bitterness was so familiar, but the strong roast gave it a unique and novel flavour. He looked up at Caprica, who was watching them. The big grin was still on her face. It was hard to imagine that this proud and excited farmer was the same woman he had found so unsettling and untrustworthy.Layne inhaled deeply in her mug, then gave a small laugh. “I can’t believe it’s coffee. I’ve missed it so much.” She gave Caprica a one armed hug, carefully cradling her mug. “Thanks!”“So, what are you two up to?”“Layne is practising her speech. She’s terrible, you have to help us.” Layne swatted at Lee as they all sat down on the benches again. “I’m not terrible, I’d describe myself as… succinct.”“So what are your main issues?” Lee and Layne exchanged a look, and he tilted his head ever so slightly. Here’s your chance. Layne put her mug down, and fixed Caprica with a firm gaze.“Ok. I’m going to do this. My name is Layne Ishay, and I’m a medic in the infirmary…”“Is this your speech?”“Yes. Just listen and see if you get the message, ok?”“Ok.” Caprica leaned forward, giving Layne her full attention.“I also run the ATLINTIS lab, where we manufacture antibiotics and insulin for the whole camp. Many of you have met me when I have taken care of a health problem for you, or for someone you care about...”Lee leaned back on the bench. She was going to be fine. Now he needed to think about his own speech if he was to join her.
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“My primary concern is the health of the people in this camp, and people everywhere. To be able to look after you all, my colleagues and I have set up production of antibiotics and recombinant eukaryotic insulin in the ATLINTIS, and we are expanding our drug production to pain killers as well. One of the things I care about most is maternal health, and I want to start a training program for midwifery. I know how important it is to have good care available during pregnancy and birth, and I want all families, and in particular all women, to feel safe in the knowledge that they will be well taken care of if they make the important decision to have a baby.”There was clapping from many people in the audience, and even loud whooping. Layne looked over and saw Tina with Rachel in her arms. She nodded, and tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She had not heard a word of what Deirdre had said before her, she had been too busy trying to calm down the rush of blood in her ears and the sense of nausea. What was she supposed to say next? Condoms. Condoms? But she couldn’t just say condoms, that would be weird… She looked to the side and saw Lee, standing to the side of the seats. He was immediately recognisable, his whole form radiating contained energy and confidence, and he was completely focused on her. He had delivered his own speech earlier, and had made his case briefly but clearly to great acclamation. He had seemed very carefree then, but now he was still and serious. He didn’t smile, but nodded slowly. Birth control! That was it. She ripped her gaze away from him and looked out over the audience.“However, I also want people, and women in particular, to have the choice of when to have a baby. I know that many of your contraceptive implants are running out. That is why one of my priorities is to initiate the manufacture of safe and comfortable condoms, so that anyone who wants it, and can find a willing partner, can have safe sex.”There was some laughter, but most importantly a huge swell of appreciation and applause. “Yeah Layne! You know what’s important in life!”, a woman in the crowd shouted. Layne smiled, and felt slightly more relaxed.“We all have important jobs to do here, and every day can bring new challenges. And I know as well as any woman how much more difficult that is on the days when you have your period.” The crowd fell noticably more silent, except for some spread tittering, and she saw two men look at each other in disgust. Women’s problems, Layne thought. Not to be talked about. A thrill of annoyance ran through her, dispersing any remnants of her nervousness. “This is a serious issue. We are all trying to build a life here, but some of us are simultaneously bleeding. Some of us in agonising pain.” There was more acclamation, all from women. Layne clenched her teeth briefly, then continued. “I can’t change that, but I can make it better. As I said, we are working on procuring better pain killers, both from bark and poppy, but another thing we really need is better sanitary products. If you elect me, I will initiate a tampon and moon cup manufacturing line in the camp!” The applause was enthusiastic, mostly from women, but she could see that men were nodding too. She’d get them with the condoms, she thought grimly. She felt good, and she could feel a smile tug at the corners of her lips. “So, vote for me if you like health care, safer births, birth control and tampons! Thank you!” She did an awkward little wave, and stepped off the improvised podium to what was now universal applause. Calum smiled at her and shook her hand, and then Deirdre.“You were so great, I’m going to vote for you!” said a woman she didn’t recognise, while enthusiastically shaking her hand.“Me too!”, another woman said, also leaning in to shake Layne’s hand. “Are you really working on making painkillers? I’d love to help.” Layne was elated, buzzing with the particular energy of a recent adrenaline rush. The aggression that had lifted her through it was still coursing through her veins, and she felt a strange urge for more of the same, more challenges to stand in her way so that she could feel the satisfaction of casting them aside. She didn’t realise that she was moving with a purpose until she was standing right in front of Lee. He was still leaning on one of the pillars, but straightened up when she approached. “That was…”“Did you mean what you said? About changing my mind?”He fell silent, eyes narrowing as he scrutinised her face. He nodded slowly, and that was all the encouragement she needed. She grabbed his hand, and pulled firmly. “So let’s go.”His eyes didn’t leave her hers. “What about the other candidates? There’s almost half still to go.”“Are you voting for any of them?” He shook his head, and squeezed her hand. They both simultaneously looked around to see if anyone was watching them, but everyone’s attention was now firmly on the next candidate taking the stage. She pulled more firmly on his hand, and he followed. As they walked across the forum she let go of his hand, and slid her hand up along the inside of his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin and the bulge of his triceps through his shirt. He grabbed her around the waist and swept her around the corner of the infirmary, and held her close to him in a breathless kiss. She sighed into the kiss, feeling all of the pent up energy finding a release in the points of contact with his skin. She needed more, and opened her lips to taste him, enjoying the scrape of his stubbly chin and the slight moan she drew from him when she slid her tongue along is bottom lip. He steadied her with a warm hand on her cheek to deepen the kiss, and the light pressure of his fingers on her scalp and the caress along the shell of her ear made her shiver with pleasure. “Come on.” She grabbed his hand again, and pulled him along, and he laughed and followed. They burst into her cabin kissing, and she closed the door by pinning him to it, grabbing his wrists and raising them over his head so that she could slide her hands over the swelling muscles of his arms and torso. She pressed her body into him as she lowered her head to inhale the scent at the base of his neck, and placed small kisses along the throat all the way up to his deliciously angular jaw bone. She nuzzled at it to feel the scratchiness of his stubble, and she couldn’t resist licking it to taste him. His skin was warm and salty, and the moan it elicited from him made the blood flow faster in her veins. She flicked the buttons of his shirt open and lowered her head further as she slid it off his arms to inhale the warmth of his hard bare chest. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”He slid a hand into her hair behind her ear and lifted her face to his again, kissing her tantalisingly slowly, then stopped. His face remained close to hers, and she could feel his breath on her lips. “I thought I was supposed to convince you?” His voice was low and raspy. She opened her eyes and found him looking at her, his eyes so close she couldn’t focus on them both. They were glittering pools in the dusk of the cabin, the striking blue replaced with stormy darkness. “So convince me.” Her voice sounded strange in her ears, barely more than a growl, and she saw close up how his eyes narrowed. Then he seized her waist and swung her around so that her back slammed against the door, his hand cradling the back of her head from the impact as he kissed her more deeply. He trailed open mouthed kisses down her neck, sucking at her collar bone as he flicked the buttons of her shirt open and pushed it off her shoulders. He lifted his face to hers as he slid a hand up to the bra clasp between her shoulder blades, and looked her straight in the eye as he flicked it open in a snap of his fingers. She gasped as he lowered his head once more, tracing kisses down to her nipple. He licked a broad stroke across the nipple, then sucked it gently into his mouth while covering her other breast with his warm palm, teasing the already sensitised flesh into puckered peaks. She groaned as and grabbed his head to push herself onto his tongue, and she could feel his responding groan vibrate against her breast. He pressed himself against her and she was thrilled to feel the hard length of his erection against her thigh. Instinctively, she lifted one leg to grind against him more effectively, and he grabbed her thigh to help and maximise the contact as she cradled the nape of his neck to pull him back into a kiss. They were chest to chest, and the sensation of his warm hard chest against hers was intoxicating. “Too much clothes”, she managed. “Get them off.” He pulled back to look her, and she felt a surge of satisfaction when she saw how fast he was breathing. His gaze flicked down her body, and without a word he fell to his knees at her feet to untie the laces of her boots. She leaned back against the door and watched the top of his head and his strong shoulders as he gently removed first one boot and then the other, gasping as he firmly dragged his thumb across the instep as he peeled off the sock. He looked up at her and quirked an eyebrow, then undid her belt buckle and slowly pulled her fatigues down her thighs, his warm hand pushing across the back of her knee and gently guiding the fabric off her calf. He leaned in to inhale at the junction of her thighs, and she whimpered. “You smell amazing.” She swallowed, at the same time excited and apprehensive about being so bare and so near him. It had been a while. She hesitated for a heart beat, then leaned down to stroke his cheek and pull him close in another kiss. Her other hand traced his chest to his belt, and as his worn soft fatigues fell from his hips she reached further down to grasp him through his underwear. His breath hitched and he sighed in her ear, and there was a punch of desire as she felt the proof of his arousal hot and hard on her palm. He shoved both hands into her underwear to grab her ass, and she moaned as he crushed her to him, just the wet slip of fabric of between them as she ground against him. She was frantic with lust for him, and dropped her feet to the ground to quickly shimmy out of her underwear. He understood without speaking, and lifted her and spread her against the door as their tongues entwined once more and his hard cock slid between her swollen slippery folds, almost there but somehow not quite finding the spot. She squirmed purposefully, seeking that slippery hardness, and he lifted her and moved with her, and suddenly he was right there and he stilled completely. She growled at him as she tried to pull him in with a strong leg around his hips, but he held back, lowering his forehead to hers and panting loudly. Oh no. Not again. “What’s wrong?”He swallowed. She squirmed again, and he let out a breathless laugh as he pulled back again. “I think… I think I promised you something else. You don’t want to get pregnant, right?”Her mind was so clear, but focussed only on one thing. She just needed him inside her. Then she slowly realised what he was talking about. She had completely forgotten about protection, just like the most irresponsible of teenagers. Protection. Condoms. “There are condoms. I have some. Come on.”She slid her feet to the floor and her arms around his neck, and leaned in to kiss him more gently. Then she took his hand and led him over to the bed, and fished out her old hold all from under it. “I think I have the last condoms in the universe.” Triumphantly she pulled out an unopened box of Titans that had been languishing in her bag since that unsuccessful getaway on Cloud 9, and tried to find the tab to open it in the dusk. Lee wrapped his arms around her again and pulled her close, kissing her neck and the tops of her breasts as she struggled with the box until she gave up and ripped it open with her teeth. The blue squares spilled out all over the floor, but she held on to one and pushed Lee down on the bed with her free hand. She straddled his strong thighs, finally getting a good look at his naked form and his gloriously hard and ready erection. He was watching her through hooded eyes, one arm behind his head and the other hand grabbing her thigh as she ripped the wrapper with her teeth and gently grabbed the base of his cock to roll the condom on. His lips parted as she slowly but firmly rolled it over the hard tip, her fingers slipping on the glossy precome that was coating him. She pulled her eyes away from it, and kept eye contact as she rolled the condom on fully, and then continued to stroke downward to feel the tautness of his ball sack and the quivering skin on the inside of his thigh. She leaned over him to kiss him, and he responded very gently, waiting for her to set the pace. She rubbed herself slowly along his length, feeling the jolts of pleasure as the warm hardness rubbed along her wet labia and swollen clit. As she rose up above him she grasped his cock and guided him to her entrance, staying suspended for a moment, shivering in anticipation and allowing the delay of fulfilment to once more heighten her desire. It was Lee’s turn to be impatient, and although he stayed his hips with admirable self control, his fingers grasped her hips with increasing urgency. She slowly rolled her hips, and her eyes fluttered shut as she felt him gradually enter her, simultaneously alleviating and heightening the pulsing ache that had been building. She allowed herself to sink down lower, and as her lips parted in a moan she heard a deep groan from Lee, turning her on even more. She opened her eyes and locked on to his intense gaze as she sank down on him once more, rolling her hips to feel as much as possible of him. He stroked her waist up to her rib cage, her thighs, her knees, any part of her that he could reach as she rode him slowly, savouring every inch of hard slippery flesh and every moan out of his gorgeous lips. She took hold of his hand and kissed the palm, then slid his thumb into her mouth, swiping her tongue over the pad. He understood, and trailed his fingers down her torso to rub his thumb gently but firmly over her clit, and the added stimulation made her shiver with pleasure. The simmering heat low in her belly slowly started to rise, and she clenched her core muscles to spur on the release. The heat and hardness of him inside her, the steady pressure of his circling thumb, his parted lips and intense gaze all stirred her on further, and she reached down behind her, trailing her fingertips over the soaked, puckered skin of his taut balls. He cried out and finally gave in, grabbing her hips and snapping his own up and pistoning into her, and the powerful stimulation pushed her over the edge into her gasping, trembling climax. He followed her, and she opened her eyes to savour the intimacy of seeing his face as the waves of his orgasm crashed through him. He really was beautiful.His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment he looked dazed. Then he smiled, and reached up to pull her to his chest. “Come here.” She allowed it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
There was no moment of disorientation, even though he awoke in the dark, in a strange bed in a strange house. His face was nuzzled in Layne’s hair, and the curve of her slim back was curled into him. He could feel her chest expand and sink as she breathed, and he trailed a hand up her waist to her shoulder just to feel her skin. She stirred, subtly moving to press herself into his touch, and emboldened he let his hand trail further, around to her stomach and up, up, briefly cupping a warm firm breast. She pressed herself more firmly into his palm, but he skimmed past, stroking back down to her hip and down her thigh, and then up, up again, and this time her nipple was taut and waiting for his touch. She sighed, and he buried his face more deeply against her neck to inhale her scent. She pushed back against him, and he knew that she must feel how hard he was against her lovely round ass. He kissed her neck slowly, wanting to explore every bit of her. He had looked at the graceful line of her neck and the shape of her ear so many times, and now he was free to drink his fill, encouraged to even, as her low moan told him just how much she enjoyed the attention. He continued to kiss her neck, the curve to her shoulder, the shell of her ear, all the time stroking her slowly from her knee to her chest, filling his palms with her strong warm flesh and his nose with her intoxicating scent. As she bucked against him impatiently he curled his hand slowly around the curve of her thigh, brushing the pubic hair, and he felt her hold her breath. He dipped his fingers lower, gently parting her lips, and finding just how wet she was sent a sweetly painful wave of arousal straight to his balls. He pushed against her ass as he gently rubbed the slippery clit, and she was breathing faster and harder. She reached an arm back to grasp the back of his head, holding his face to her neck as she parted her thighs to grant him better access. He slid his fingers lower, dipping into her swollen entrance, and she keened when he withdrew again to return to her clit. He snaked his other hand under her, splaying it on her abdomen and pressing her firmly into him. Alternating between rubbing and teasing her, he ground his cock against her ass to let her know just how much he wanted her, and she was getting more vocal, moaning more loudly. “Yes, that’s right, right there, yes… yes… yes…” Hearing and feeling her arousal made him more aroused too, and he thought he might come right there, before her even, when she inhaled loudly and shuddered against him, “Lee, Lee, ah Lee…” He shut his eyes and savoured the sweetness of her pulsing wet flesh against his fingers and his name on her breath. She rubbed the nape of his neck, and turned her head to kiss him. Then she leaned out of the narrow bed to feel around on the floor, and before he had a chance to figure out what she was doing in the darkness she turned back to him and, with a very gentle touch, rolled a condom on to his hard cock. He pushed her slowly onto her back and spread her thighs with his own, all the time kissing her. He couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, but he was mapping her body with his hands and his lips, and found her guiding him to what she wanted. She hooked an ankle around the curve of his ass to pull him closer, and he braced himself on his forearms above her, taking care not to crush her. “Now… Please, now…” Her urgent whisper pulled him in, and he raked a hand down to grab her ass as he surged forward and buried himself in her heat. They both cried out, and for a moment he stilled, until a roll of her hips spurred him on. He dipped his head to kiss her as he pulled back and pushed into her again, and was rewarded with a low groan. Her hands smoothed down his back and grabbed his buttocks, and at his next stroke she ground against him, sending a shock of pleasure through his core and almost pushing him over the edge. He moaned, and as she did it again he stilled, trying to hold back, to make it last. “Don’t hold back.” She too could read his body in the dark. “I want you to come. Don’t hold back.” He held for a heartbeat, staring into the darkness where he knew her face was, feeling her hot breath on his face, and then followed her command. Splaying his hand on her buttock and grabbing it more firmly, he buried his face in her neck and pounded into her over and over, completely immersing himself in the sensation of her, her scent and her moans until there was no turning back and his orgasm came surging through him.The next time he woke, sunlight was filtering in through the slats of the blinds and Layne was gently shaking his shoulder. “Lee. Lee. It’s time to wake up.” He was happy to see her face again, the green of her eyes even lovelier than he had remembered. He reached out for her, but she stepped back. “I have to get over to the ATLINTIS. And I have to wash before I go there.” He looked at her, but she was folding her towel, avoiding eye contact. It stung, but he had known it wouldn’t be easy. “So did I succeed?”“Succeed with what?”He raised an eyebrow, and she looked down on her towel again, folding it into a tighter square. “Last night was… well. But I think we need to take some time to figure this thing out.”“I told you, I know everything I need to know. A bit late perhaps, but that’s how I feel. And last night was amazing.” He dropped back against the pillows with his arms behind his head, allowing the sheet to slide down to his hips. “You, on the other hand, can take all the time you need.” She gave him a long look, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “Alright. I’ll see you later then.”“You can count on it.”. . . . .The morning air was still cool and fresh, and he could smell the coffee as he walked down the path towards the northern meadow. Scully and Bram were already there, laying out the tools and planning the shaping of the timber. The cabin was going up quickly now that the latest timber haul had arrived from the hills, but the timber had to be cut precisely as nails were in short supply. The frame was joined together using cut our shapes in the wood itself.Scully handed him a mug with a cheeky smile. “So…?”“So what?” Lee raised his eyebrows innocently as he hid his face behind the mug, taking a big gulp of the coffee. It was hot, but he swallowed it valiantly.Bram rose from the rough plank he was measuring and limped over. “Oh, come on!” He grinned. “Did you think we didn’t see you leave with Layne? You left right in the middle of Tiberius’s speech about how things need to be more fun around here. I guess you took it to heart more than most.”“To be fair, Bram didn’t see you. He was busy enjoying Tiberius’s pitch.”“You have to admit, he’s got a point…”“But Deirdre told us. Good for you.” Scully looked amused. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but we approve, don’t we darling?” He turned to Bram, who nodded vigorously.“Oh yeah, we love Layne. I mean, she’s pretty scary. But we love Layne.”Lee nodded. “Good to know.”Scully and Bram exchanged a look. “You can’t be all mopey and miserable about this. Layne’s a woman of action, she won’t put up with any nonsense.”Lee scoffed against his will. “Don’t I know it. I’m… working on it.” He smiled at both his friends. “I love her too you know. I just have to convince her that I’m her guy.”Scully clapped him on the back. “From what I hear you’re doing well already. And if you both get elected to the council you can pass her notes in class.”Bram laughed. “You’d have to get elected first though – and I know just how you can earn our votes. Just help me with this log.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
There were dark clouds on the horizon, and the breeze rustling the dry leaves of the big tree on the forum had a different smell. A fresh earthy smell, a clear change from the dry winds of the last few months. Soon the rains would come back, and with them, new life. There was a happy energy surrounding the forum, with many people staying around after casting their vote to see how the counting would proceed and what the outcome would be. Voting would end at sundown, and then the votes would be counted and the results announced.Layne and Wanda had spent the whole day in the ATLINTIS setting up new batches of penicillin culture and demonstrating the different steps of harvest and purification to the new assistants. It was so much more time consuming and exhausting to watch someone else do the work, but Layne enjoyed Dexter and Alexia’s interest and enthusiasm. However, the fact that the new recruits had no knowledge of the basics of molecular biology worried her.“Were going to have to start a theoretical training programme soon.” Wanda was standing next to her on the infirmary steps, vocalising the same concern that had occupied Layne. “It’s pretty overwhelming to think that we’re the last few people in the universe who understand how genetic information is stored. We have to share the knowledge somehow, or it’ll be lost forever.”Layne rolled her shoulders and then slowly leaned her head from side to side, stretching the sore muscles. Her skin was still alive with the recollection of Lee’s touch, every part of her now serving as a reminder of his touch and his kisses. She allowed herself to revel in the memory for a glorious moment before pushing it firmly to the side. Any notion that giving in to temptation would get him out of her system had been thoroughly dispelled, as her stubborn thoughts kept gliding back to the previous night. She longed to see him again, and she was annoyed with herself for it. She shrugged exaggeratedly and focussed on Wanda’s words. “It won’t be easy. So much is already lost – I don’t remember all the enzymes involved. So much is just… gone.”“We have to try. We should start to put together a text book, as soon as possible. Hi Sherman!” Layne looked up, and saw that Sherman limping toward them supported on his cane. She smiled at him.“Ladies. Busy day?”“Always, Sherman. Have you voted?”“Of course I have, hours ago. You’d better get over there before it’s too late.” “Are you voting for yourself then?” Wanda turned to Layne.“Heavens, no! I’m voting for…” She looked out across the forum, and there he was, walking towards her. She would have recognised him anywhere in an instant, she was so fully tuned to his form and his gait, that particular energy that radiated from him in everything he did. Her heart swelled, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. “Hi.”“Hi.” He smiled. “Have you voted yet?”“No, we just got out. Have you?”“Yes. We were building all day, and then we came here.” He pointed to the towel draped over his shoulder. “Dropped by the bath house first though.”“Oh.” She blushed. It was embarrassing, but she could feel her cheeks get hot. Wanda looked rolled her eyes. “As scintillating as this conversation is, do you think we could postpone it until after we have voted?” Sherman gave Lee a long look, but Lee just smiled graciously and held out his elbow to Layne to in an exaggerated offer to escort her. She felt acutely aware of Sherman’s scrutiny, and opted not to take it. They walked toward the library, followed by Wanda and Sherman.“Do you want to have dinner with me? I hear there’s barbecued antelope and barbecued antelope to choose from.”She did, she really did. But she could feel Sherman’s eyes on her back and remember his words. ‘There was never anyone but Starbuck for him.’ She didn’t want to give in only to find herself rejected again. Still, she would have to eat. “Sure, yes.”Lee grinned. “Alright, off you go. I’ll wait right here.”She entered the dusk of the library with Wanda, seeing the voting booths and the ballot boxes arranged on one of the desks. A young woman Layne had treated in the past sauntered by. “I’ve just voted for you, I hope you win!”“Thank you.”Calum had stepped down from organising the voting after deciding to run for council himself, so Tamar from the compound contingent had taken over as official election administrator. Layne had met her when she had registered as a candidate, and nodded to her across the room as she went to the desk to be ticked off in the lists. Another woman who wouldn’t mind a bit of Apollo. How clichéd. As the clerk looked her up she gazed out through the open doors, and saw Sherman and Lee in animated discussion. Sherman looked angry, and was waving the cane in front of Lee’s face. It was about her, it had to be. Lee looked tight jawed but composed. She felt embarrassed, this really wasn’t anybody’s business but hers. Though perhaps hearing it spelled out by Sherman would remind Lee where his true affection lay, and spare her getting in too deep, as there seemed to be no way for her to resist him.“Here you go.” The clerk handed her the ballot and directed her to a booth, and she quickly made her selection. Despite everything else going on, there was only one person she wanted to vote for, and she wrote his name swiftly and without any trepidation. Lee and Sherman both turned toward her when she exited the library, and for a moment she considered scurrying off to the tranquillity of the ATLINITIS. Then she squared her shoulders and stepped toward them. She would tell them both to mind their own business.“HELP! HELP!” Everyone in the forum fell silent, turning toward the bath house street. The crowd parted as Brendan Costanza came running across the forum with a wailing Freddy in his arms. “Oh my gods, please help! Please please help us!“ Brendan was looking around frantically, unsure to who among all the people in the forum that could actually help.Lee quickly made his way to him and called out, “What’s going on, what’s happened?”“A snake! A snake bit him when we were taking the chickens in for the night. Oh my gods, I turned my back for a second…” Brendan fell silent again, hugging Freddy’s red face to his chest.Layne weaved through the crowd. “A snake?” She felt a surge of adrenaline and fear. A snake at the chicken coop. It could be an irhamba. She looked at Lee, and saw the same realisation in his eyes. “Let’s go! Carry him to the infirmary. Hurry!”The crowd surged and parted as they ran toward the infirmary doors. Freddy was still wailing, which meant that the venom had not yet made him go into shock. She would have to get the needle into him quickly though, before the blood vessels became harder to find as the blood pressure dropped. She flew across the room to find the syringe and needles, and then opened the cupboard with the waiting antivenom preparations. She had tested them again for binding to the venom, and found that even after boiling, Penelope’s antibodies could bind the dangerous molecules. However, she still had no idea if it would work in a living being. A living child like Freddy. She drew the clear liquid into the syringe with trembling fingers, forcing herself to slow down and control each movement to avoid any mistake. Must get rid of all air bubbles. Then she approached the bed, and looked into Brendan’s tortured face. “Please, doc. Please…” She felt a lump in her throat, and all she could do was nod. Lee put an arm around Brendan’s shoulders and squeezed him. Freddy was still crying and sobbing, and Layne couldn’t figure out if he was having breathing difficulties of just normal crying. She would have to get the needle in fast. “Lee could you… hold Freddy. Take him on your lap, tell him a story.”Lee nodded, and lifted the small boy into his arms. He was so small, and looked at Lee with big eyes. He had stopped crying, but his whole leg was swelling up. The venom was working, and the quicker she could disable it the smaller the risk of any permanent damage. What would Lee tell Freddy about? Perhaps the time when he blew up a cylon tylium refinery, or when he was shot in a terrorist attack? The time he blew up a cylon resurrection ship perhaps? “Freddy, Layne is going to make you better. And do you know how? She’s made a medicine from a snake just like the one that bit you. Do you want to hear about the time when Layne and I went to catch a snake?” She held the boy’s thin arm gingerly, tapping the crook of the elbow to identify the vein. It was nice and blue, clearly visible though the smooth baby skin. She bit her lip. Mustn’t make a mistake. “Hold the lamp.” Raj had appeared, and held a wind up torch closer to allow her to work. “Sharp scratch”, she mumbled, and smoothly inserted the needle. Lee was talking in a low reassuring voice, telling Freddy about pinning the snake down, and how Layne had dived down to grab its neck. Layne pulled back on the plunger and saw a curl of blood in the clear antivenom. She was in the vein. She swallowed, and pushed the plunger slowly, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Don’t flinch, she thought, stay still. She withdrew the needle and pressed a compress to the punctured vein to stop the bleeding. She caught Brendan’s eye. “Now we wait.” Please work. She leaned on the bed, Raj, Brendan and herself all perfectly still listening to Lee’s story and watching Freddy. The boy was still, his leg still swollen, but he appeared alert and his breathing was normal. Layne carefully grasped his hand to check his pulse, and found it fast, but normal for a child. “Layne made the snake all sleepy with ether, and then she picked it up and made it spit out all of its venom in a little bottle. But then, just as she was getting the venom, all the children in the school came by because they had been looking for flowers. And they thought that we had gone crazy, playing with a snake.”“Don’t play with a snake!” Freddy looked alarmed.“That’s right Freddy. They’re not good to play with.”Lee’s calm voice had a soothing effect on Layne too, and she found that her own heart was calming down and her breathing getting deeper as she remembered the events of those days. Freddy’s condition was not changing. She checked his pulse again, and found it at a good and strong 110. Raj handed her the blood pressure cuff, and she used Sherman’s stethoscope to check Freddy’s blood pressure. She nodded to Brendan as she slipped the cuff off. “The antivenom seems to be working.” He nodded, his face pale and drawn. “Thanks Layne. Thank you so much. You have no idea…”She reached out to grasp his shoulder briefly. “I think I do. Now, I think it would be good if Raj could clean the bite out and put a bandage on.” He lifted his son out of Lee’s arms, and sat him on the bed while Raj prepared the tray with things for wound cleaning. Layne withdrew slowly, and slipped out through the door. Darkness had fallen while they were tending to Freddy, and the night air had an even stronger note of rain and freshness on it. She drew a deep breath, trying to purge the lingering zings of adrenaline and fear from her system. She lifted her hand in front of her, and saw that it was trembling. She clenched it quickly and bit her lip. It was such a great success, such a triumph of ideas and resourcefulness, but all she could think was Too close, too close, too bloody close. What if it hadn’t worked, if she’d been too late?“Hey.” Lee had stepped out behind her. “That was pretty amazing.”She nodded. “It worked. We did it.” She smiled. “I liked your story.”“It’s a good story.”“But you have so many stories. There are so many heroic things you’ve done, so many things to choose from.”“Layne. This, right here, helping you, is the most important thing I’ve ever done. It’s what I’m most proud of. And it’s the sort of thing you do every day.”She turned to face him fully, openly studying his face.“Listen, Layne, I spoke to Sherman. Or rather, Sherman spoke to me. Anyway, the last thing I want is to cause you any trouble. I’ve been selfish, thinking about what I want rather than what you want, and if you need more space, you’ve got it. I told you, I’m pretty bad at this, so I’ll just do whatever you want.”“Whatever I want?” He nodded slowly, and she watched how the weak light from the door way reflected off the side of his face. He had dropped everything to help Freddy tonight, and the success of the treatment was just as much due to his contribution as to hers. She had enjoyed every part of the project, every aspect of it enhanced and made more exciting because it was shared with him. He was right, they had something together, something neither of them had had before, and it was worth keeping. He was a most extraordinary man. And of course there was nobody else for him except her. The sudden realisation evaporated the bitterness and jealousy that had kept her feelings for him under control, and the wave of tenderness that welled up inside her was so strong it took her breath away. “Then kiss me.”His back was to the door way, and she couldn’t see his face, but she knew he could see hers. She smiled at him. “I’m convinced.” He stepped forward and took her in his arms, and dipped his face to hers. He rubbed her nose gently with his, then she leaned her head to the side and kissed him. His arms closed around her waist and lifted her up, all the while kissing her, and she laughed into the kiss.“I see you’ve heard!” Scully and Bram came out of the darkness. Bram stumbled. “I thought there was supposed to be a full moon tonight. Why won’t anyone switch the bloody lights on? I’m gonna complain to the council!”“Heard what?““You both won! If a seat on the council counts as a victory, that is.”Layne looked at Lee. She had forgotten about the election, and she could sense that he had too. “That’s fantastic!” But Lee didn’t look at his friends, and Bram and Scully exchanged a quick look and made a hasty retreat. “See you later!” They were giggling as they left, but Layne didn’t mind.“We won.”“Yeah. We did.” He kissed her again. “I love you”, he whispered, and she shivered, fascinated that those words could have such power. She turned them in her mind, seeing how they fit, and found that they felt completely natural.“I love you too.” Her lips sought out his, and it was a gentle and slow kiss, completely content in that there was all the time in the world to explore. One of his hands cupped her cheek, and the warmth of his hand made her realise how fresh the night air was. Then she felt a drop of water on her forehead, and then another. They both looked up.“It’s raining.”Somewhere someone hit a switch, and the forum was illuminated by a thousand fairy lights. A cheer went up, and someone shouted “Tina for president!”. Suddenly she could see his face, and the raindrops running down his cheeks. His eyes were glittering and he was smiling. He stroked a drop from her jaw with his thumb. “Do you want to go back inside?”She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cool breeze and the scent of rejuvenation it carried from the plains. The sound of a million raindrops on the tin roofs raised a low rumble around the forum. She shook her head. “No.” And then she kissed him again. |
11170992 | of your touch | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto",
"Fandom": "僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by celestialfics",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-11T00:00:00",
"words": "1,456",
"Additional Tags": "First Meetings, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Healing",
"Relationship": "Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "all we have, all we need",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | In the heat of battle, Izuku oftentimes doesn’t feel or even notice his own injuries. It’s just, he’s so preoccupied with so many other things, like detaining the villains, rescuing civilians in danger, keeping an eye out for the other heroes… Really, it’s not a feat that Izuku hadn’t noticed the gouge down his left shoulder and to his chest. It’s kind of just… normal.When he goes to take another step towards the commotion, though, he actually collapses to the ground. His endorphins wear off quickly, so he very suddenly feels a sharp, burning pain in his shoulder. He curls in on himself, pressing a hand to the wound, and he breathes harshly through clenched teeth.He’s a bit of a ways off from the action—he’d just been lured away by a villain, but had succeeded in defeating them—but he’s not so far off that nobody notices him. He vaguely discerns someone crouching over him, so he peels open his eyes to look at them.Izuku recognizes the person—he had been fighting villains with fire. He’s very distinct looking, with his hair color splitting down the middle, red on the left and white on the right. With him this close, Izuku notices that his eyes are different colors, as well—one a soft brown and the other a piercing blue. What looks to be a burn scar spans across the skin the left side of his face, around his blue eye.“Leave me,” Izuku says to this unnamed hero, hoarse. “I’ll be—fine. Go help the others.”The hero stares at him for only a second before his gaze flickers down to Izuku’s wound. “The others have it under control,” he replies, nodding back towards the commotion. “Backups have been called. And you’re losing a lot of blood.”Izuku coughs violently, and the hero winces. “Let me help you,” he says.Izuku blinks up at him, teeth still clenched. He’s built an insane pain tolerance over the years, but this cut is deep. He should—he needs help. So, he swallows thickly and nods at the hero.He purses his lips in response, sliding a glove off of his right hand. Izuku furrows his eyebrows—mostly, he’d just expected to be heaved up onto this guy’s shoulder and carried over to a medic.“Your quirk—?” Izuku eyes the man’s hand, which radiates a pale white glow.“Healing,” he says, following Izuku’s gaze down to his own hand before looking back at the wound.“But, I saw you—”“Don’t talk,” he shushes Izuku, “Let me…”The man carefully peels Izuku’s torn clothing away from the gouge, until he has a clear view of the entire wound. Izuku follows his glowing hand with his eyes until he can’t any longer; instead, he looks up at the sky.“Keep still,” the hero says, and he leans closer, over Izuku.Then, Izuku feels a fingertip press to the very top of his cut. It tingles intensely, the same kind of feeling as if he’s just woken up from sleeping oddly on his arm. It’s not entirely unpleasant—a decided improvement from the burning pain only seconds earlier—and slowly, the hero presses down with more of his hand, until his palm presses flat against the middle and deepest section of the wound.Izuku’s gaze flickers from the sky and to the hero’s face; his lips are pursed in concentration and his hair hangs down over Izuku, almost grazing Izuku’s forehead. He has a sudden urge to—to touch it, to comb his fingers through it.Their faces are incredibly close, and Izuku notes that this man is actually very attractive—Whoa, Izuku blinks hard. A side effect of the healing…?Izuku is torn from his thoughts when the hero drags a finalizing fingertip down the length of the now-sealed cut, and then he pulls away. His eyelids droop.Before the hero has time to say anything, Izuku sputters, “I—Could—Um, what’s your name?”“Shouto,” he says, and Izuku might be imagining the hint of a smile on his lips.“Shouto,” Izuku repeats back, like he’s trying it out. Stupidly, he blushes.“And yours?”“Midoriya Izuku—or Deku.”Shouto looks curiously at him and then stands, slipping his glove back on. He offers Izuku a hand to help haul him off of the ground.Once standing, Shouto shakes Izuku’s hand that he already holds. “Midoriya,” he says. Izuku shakes his hand back, and then they both let go, their hands falling to their sides.Amazingly, Izuku only feels a residual tingling in his shoulder as he stands. He rolls his shoulder around, pinwheels his arm. He freezes, though, when Shouto leans heavily into his other side.“Sorry,” Shouto says, though he makes no move to pull away and stand on his own. “My quirk… it drains my energy.”Izuku gapes. “I’m sorry—You didn’t have to…” he trails, and Shouto shakes his head.“It was my decision. Sorry, could we…” Shouto looks pointedly over to a street bench only a little ways away. Izuku easily complies to his request, shouldering his weight as they walk together to the bench.Once they sit down, Shouto lets his head loll back, face pointing up to the sky. Izuku strains to see what’s going on over where he had been initially headed, but Shouto was right—the others had it under control. Now, what appears from here to be news reporters congregate around the scene. Izuku lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping.A few moment pass, and then Izuku opens his mouth, turns his head to begin to say something to Shouto. But his eyes are closed, so Izuku stays quiet.He’s incredibly curious, though. He swears he saw Shouto using fire to fight villains earlier, but he had just obviously healed Izuku’s injury, so… is it possible that he could have two quirks? He does seem to be split down the middle, so perhaps each side has its own quirk?Izuku tugs his bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb as he thinks. He wonders, why hadn’t he known Shouto before? He keeps up with hero news like a religion, and he’s sure he would remember if he’d seen or read anything about someone as distinct as Shouto. Does he have a similar philosophy to Eraserhead?Questions swirl around Izuku’s head, but he still notices when Shouto begins to slip to the side opposite of him. Before he slips enough to fall, Izuku grips his shoulder gently and pulls him back. Shouto’s eyes crack open at the touch, and he lifts his head to look at Izuku.“Thanks,” he says, and Izuku resists snorting. “But you… don’t have to stay, if you have somewhere to be.”Izuku’s throat feels tight. He wonders, how do you tell someone you don’t want to leave because you’re thoroughly intrigued by them and also you may be a little attracted to them in an I want to take you out to dinner and maybe kiss you if I’m lucky kind of way? It seems impossible.“It’s okay,” he says instead.Shouto hums lowly in response, his eyes fluttering closed again.“Do you have two quirks?” Izuku blurts before Shouto falls back asleep. “Sorry—”“It’s one, technically,” Shouto says without opening his eyes. He shrugs. “Two halves make a whole.”“Oh,” Izuku breathes. “Well, it’s really cool.”Shouto cracks open one eye and looks at Izuku. “I guess,” he says.“You don’t think so?”After pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Shouto lets it go with a suctioning sound. “You ever heard of quirk marriages?”Izuku’s face falls. Shouto notices.“Don’t worry—it’s not a big deal. I shouldn’t have said that.”It doesn’t do much to reassure Izuku, but he doesn’t ask any more questions anyway. Though it then strikes him that he’d forgotten to do this earlier…“Hey, Shouto?” he starts, “Thank you, for earlier.”“It’s no problem.”Izuku raises an eyebrow as he eyes Shouto’s current state. “It’s a little bit of a problem,” he says.Shouto chuckles, soft. “Okay,” he gives, “It’s a little bit of a problem. But, it’s fine. I’m about ready to get going, anyway.”Izuku blinks, swallows. He opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it.Shouto fully opens his eyes, stretches his arms over his head. He rolls his head, and his neck cracks. He then presses his hands to the bench beneath him and stands. Izuku follows suit.Izuku feels his face heating—the tips of his ears and down his neck, too—as they stand together, about to part ways, and he says, “Can we see each other again?”Shouto breathes out. “Yeah, I’d like that.” |
11189271 | In the Garden of Walking | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "本命年 | Black Snow (1990)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by erebones",
"chapters": "10/10",
"completed": "2017-08-19",
"published": "2017-06-13T00:00:00",
"words": "52,183",
"Additional Tags": "Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Original Character(s), Fix-It, Literature, Internalized Homophobia, Non-Graphic Violence, Smoking, Depression",
"Relationship": "Li Huiquan/Male OC",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | Quanzi has seen the boy with the glasses before. He’s sure of it. Lanky but not underfed, stripped of flesh the way young men sometimes are when they’re still floundering in the early years of manhood. In the red glow of the lights, beyond the fog of his cigarette, he looks like a painting. Soft and smeared, a puppeteer’s doll made up fresh for festival. Behind the enormous lenses, his eyelashes blink slow, feathered out like drops of ink in a still pond.The music fades, just for a minute. The voice of the girl onstage, too young, too brittle-boned, is subsumed in the dim glare of the bar, swallowed up in silence. Whatever Cui had been saying is already forgotten. The sound of his voice slides like oil on wet pavement, slick and shiny, ever expanding. The boy is staring back.The walk home is fraught with faces he doesn’t yet know. Yaqiu, giggly, so strangely optimistic. She’s different on the streets than she is onstage, sticky flesh and blood instead of porcelain—still, he hardly dares to look at her, at the nervous flush on her face as she clatters along beside him with her pretty pink slippers and her too-big coat. She reminds him too much of a lady in a painting, slim and lily-white in her loincloth.And behind her eyes, he sees the boy. The boy with the glasses. The long line of his throat disappearing into his collar, and his lower lip bitten raw and red. Or perhaps that was just a trick of the light.Quanzi is restless in his own skin. He is afraid. He is alone, but he doesn’t feel alone, even when Yaqiu is gone and he is home, safe, with the covers over his head to block out the judgemental gleam of starlight through the window. It’s too hot under here. His lungs feel too tight. But he can’t. He can’t show his face, not even to the emptiness of his own apartment.Hot breaths puff against the underside of the blanket, warming his face. His ears are on fire. In his head, he sees the red light playing against the walls, against a slender chest. In real life, the boy’s white shirt had been buttoned, but now Quanzi’s brain peels it open, button by button, sees the gleam of sweat and the dark thumbprints of his nipples. He shuts his eyes tight, grabs at himself clumsily. The frame beneath the mattress creaks and sighs in protest as he digs his heels in. The boy is smiling at him across the bar. The boy is touching himself.
Stop!
The voice comes so suddenly and so loud that Quanzi sits straight up in bed, gasping, heart clawing its way out of his ribcage. But there is no one there. Nothing. There is nothing.He grabs the magazine he keeps wedged between the mattress and the wall, squinting myopically through the watery blue half-light. The girls in it are pretty—he knows because the man who sold it to him said so. He flips through the pages one at a time, idly, letting calm settle back into his bones. Some of the pages are stiff. Suddenly disgusted with himself, he throws it to the foot of the bed and stumbles upright to hunt for his cigarettes.His hands shake until the precise moment he lights the end and drags in, slow, baking his lungs like sand on a hot summer day. He shudders, shrugs off the memory, and exhales smoke into the cool air.He’s still hard, against all odds. His body longs for what it cannot have, for what does not exist—he’s an animal. Like a mindless rutting beast that craves another’s flesh even when it doesn’t quite know why. Breathe. In. Out. Half the stick is gone before he leans against the wall and reaches down. It feels… decadent. Flashes of instinct warn him away, to run, to hide, but he breathes them out of his lungs in great gulps of smoke and rubs himself through his shorts.The boy shimmers into his mind’s eye, but he tamps it down and reaches for generics. Bold strokes. Swipes of sloppy paint, like a child masquerading as a master painter—look, and see what masterpiece I have created! A man, fully-formed, muscular, glistening under the hot lights. Red lights. He grunts and tips his head against the wall, cigarette dribbling from his lips. He hasn’t even finished it and he already wants another.His hand is slippery with sweat, now. He jerks himself harder, shoves his shorts around his thighs and braces his feet against the cold floor. Behind him, his bed sits abandoned, covers thrown back in his temporary panic—but he doesn’t want to go back there. Instead he breathes, then holds his breath, holds and holds as he works the head, faster, even when his wrist begins to burn. Looking down, he can hide from himself with the strategic fold of an arm over his belly, a little slump to pull the fabric of his shirt askew. But he can’t hide the burst of wet across his palm. The spatter on the floor. Droplets glisten between his feet, accusatory, but for one ancient, stretched-out moment he feels only bliss, and not shame.///Business is good. The weather is decent, and he sits on a crate with his collar popped and his shins bared to the watery sunlight as he smokes and makes change. He feels, tentatively, kind of okay.A few stalls down, a bookseller has set up shop. He’s not sure why they bother. The river of people flows around it like a stone rising untouched from the rapids. Hardly anyone stops. The auntie who sits beside it doesn’t seem to mind. She’s buried herself in a tattered old book whose covers have been half-torn away, the motheaten pages turning slow as syrup in a summer haze. Quanzi’s eyes catch on it, sometimes, through the lacy haze of cigarette smoke. Her gnarled hands clutch the book like a babe to a breast, yet it’s she who suckles, the words like mother’s milk that Quanzi has never tasted.“Hey. How much?”Just a few foreign girls, stinking of perfume and wearing their shorts like skin is going out of style. He brushes them off with a resounding grunt. Maybe he should buy a book. Officer Liu seemed to think it was a good idea. The girls lose interest and wander off. Quanzi flicks ash off the end of his smoke and slides the filter back between his lips. Maybe the bookseller has something sexy in all that rubbish.He shies away from the thought as soon as it surfaces. Turns his eyes to the crowd. It’s thinned out, now, and he can see a bicycle coming down the walk. Faster, faster. Then someone shouts a curse word and the boy hops off with a churlish smile, a teasing flop of his hair. He bows like a marionette on a string and jerks back up again, and Quanzi’s mouth goes dry around the filter. Fuck.It’s him—Glasses Boy. Not an oil painting anymore. His limbs are all askew like he’s not grown into them yet, and he’s wearing a stupid pink shirt under a denim jacket that balloons around his slender, twisty waist. His glasses flash like fireworks in the sun. Quanzi ducks his head in a hurry and blows a stream of smoke to hide his face.“Hey.”Tap tap tap. He taps his smoke case hard against his palm.“Hey, excuse me. How much for these?”He looks up. Through a cloud of smoke, Glasses Boy looks down at him, hip propped against his bike and his red lips stretched around a smile that doesn’t quite fit his face. Quanzi swallows, but it doesn’t seem to do him any good—his throat is thick with something sticky and half-familiar. “Five,” he croaks, finally.Thick eyebrows draw together like a zipper pulled all the way up to the throat. “Five? For these?” Glasses Boy swings the pair of high tops in front of his face, and the end of one of the laces almost catches Quanzi in the cheek. It clips his cig instead, and it goes spinning across the sidewalk and into the gutter.“Hey!” Rage is easier to feel than fear—sits more readily on his shoulders. He lunges across the table and grabs the kid by the collar. He’s denser than he looks, but he still comes when Quanzi yanks, feeling the seams pop under his fingers. “Fuckin’ watch it, you little shit.”The guy grins at him. His glasses were knocked askew in the brief tussle, but he isn’t at all daunted by the sneer of nicotine-stained breath in his face. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? It was an accident. Look, I’ll buy you another one.”Quanzi isn’t expecting that—the grin, the blithe unconcern. He’s used to anger. One match catching on another, flaring to light, racing each other to the burnout.Glasses Boy, whoever he is, is all smiles. Doesn’t even flinch when Quanzi gives him a good shake before letting him go. He sniffs and straightens his collar conscientiously. “I wasn’t stealing or anything, man,” he announces archly.The whole display has an air of performance, like he’s playing to a crowd. But there’s no audience. Anyone close enough to witness their scuffle has no interest in whatever petty violence a pair of boys can scrounge up. A warm day like this, everyone’s minds are bent to other things. Quanzi shakes his head.“Whatever. Do you want the shoes or not?”“Oh! Are they still for sale?” He plucks them up without waiting for an answer and turns them this way and that. “Do you think I’d look good in them?”Unwilling, Quanzi’s eyes flick up and down. And down. His jeans are too tight, he thinks irritably—the voice inside his head belongs to Auntie Luo. But, “Guess so,” he says, fumbling for another light. Glasses Boy is looking at the shoes, but Quanzi still feels the weight of his attention like a boot jammed into the back of his neck, grinding his face to the ground. He nearly drops his lighter twice before getting a wisp of flame to catch and stay. “Go on then, if you want ’em.”“How much?” the guy presses. He is looking at him, now. His mouth is sober as a schoolmarm, but Quanzi is sure he’s laughing at him behind those shiny bug-eyed glasses.“Told you,” Quanzi grunts. “Five. Apiece,” he adds on a whim.Glasses Boy laughs. Not in a cruel way. He’s already digging in his wallet. “You sell shoes separate?”“People have different size feet sometimes,” Quanzi grunts defensively. He slurs the words around the filter and accepts the bills Glasses Boy presses into his hand. Fleetingly, they touch. The guy’s fingers are warm and a little sweaty, like the damp patch at the small of Quanzi’s back where his shirt rubs on the wrong side of his belt.His eyes disappear when he laughs. Then he bends down, right there, and takes off his shoes to trade them for the high tops. They’re ugly things, Quanzi thinks—probably girl’s shoes, with bright yellow and eye-searing pink trimmed in black. Likely to fall apart in a month as not. But Glasses Boy seems pleased. He chucks his old trainers in the basket of his bike and puts his hands on his hips, hopping from foot to foot and pointing his toes like a ballerina.“Ha! They’re smart, I think. I’ll wear them dancing.” He rocks back on his heels and grins. Quanzi wants to jam a cigarette between his lips just to shut him up. “Wanna dance, big guy?”Quanzi coughs out smoke. “Don’t be stupid. I don’t even know you.”“Sure you do. We met at the club last week. Well. Met is relative.” He whips his glasses off, polishes them energetically on his shirt, and pops them back on without pausing for breath. “I saw you, though. And you saw me. Watching that debutante. Pretty good voice, huh? We go to school together. Ah, we used to. She’s two years below me, I haven’t seen her since I left for university. Do you go to university? No? You look older.”He does pause for breath, finally, but he doesn’t seem to require any kind of response, so Quanzi just grunts and flicks ash away over his shoulder.“I guess that’s not who I am though. Heh. Xia Yongjun. Pleased to meet you.” He sticks out his hand, even though Quanzi’s arms are folded decisively over his chest. Yongjun frowns and waves his hand in front of Quanzi’s face. “Hey. I’m talking to you, you know?”Sigh. “Li.” He relents and reaches out to grasp Yongjun’s hand. “Huiquan.”“Hff. Nice to meet you, Li Huiquan. You can call me Ah Jun.” He grins again, all teeth. Like a shark lurking in shallow water. “What do you think, does she have any good books?” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at the disinterested Auntie.Quanzi rolls his eyes dismissively. “Bet she has some good titty mags, if you pay enough.”Scandal flashes across Ah Jun’s face, but laughter is hot on its heels. Five minutes of him standing here, and Quanzi thinks he’s never heard someone laugh so much in such a little time. “You’re cheeky,” Ah Jun informs him regally, like he’s imparting some faceted jewel of great wisdom and not a pithy punchline.“What else are books good for, then?” He’s mostly just being a shit, because Ah Jun is easy to rile. But there’s a healthy spoonful of shame sitting sour on the back of his tongue. He thinks of his pocket dictionary, well-thumbed, well-used. Poorly loved. For all the times he’s chucked it at the wall in a fit of frustration, he says a prayer of apology. Ah Jun probably doesn’t walk around with a dictionary. He’s probably already memorized it.Ah Jun is staring at him as if he were mad. “For everything,” he says at last, and that seems to be all he he has to say on the subject. He leans his bike against Quanzi’s table. “Watch this.”Quanzi doesn’t bother watching what’s right in front of him. Instead his eyes follow Ah Jun. He walks confidently, even in new kicks, with a swagger to his hips like he knows what a little peacock he is. A picture, again, but not a painting—a model on the cover of a magazine, ostentatious, about as deep as a puddle of water and proud of it.He plays to the auntie like a fisherman to a fish. Bow, chirp, chatter. He’s like a little squirrel, too much to say and not enough time to say it, and by the time he’s done you realize there was nothing of substance there after all. If he haggles, Quanzi can’t prove it. It’s just charm. No bargaining required.He comes back with a good haul—two books under one arm that look thicker than the width of his hand twice over, and another, slimmer volume that he flips like a coin to land face-down on a clumsily-folded jumper. Quanzi stares.“It’s not a cig,” Ah Jun says with an apologetic shrug. “But if you don’t like it after you finish it, I guess you can tear it up for rolling papers.” The other two books go in the basket alongside his shoes and his brownbag lunch, and he swings astride it with a little cheerful clang of the bell. “Thanks for the kicks, man. I’ll see you on the dancefloor.” He points right at Quanzi, like a popstar gesturing to a screaming fan from the safety of the stage. Except they’re on level ground, and Quanzi is only a few meters away. Quanzi tries not to shrink.“Guess so,” he says again. Seems like he’s been roped into playing escort for Yaqiu, anyway. He’ll probably be back.Ah Jun hops up onto the pedals and cruises off. Quanzi watches him go. Sits on the chair by his table and hunches over, elbows on his knees, and stares long after he’s disappeared into the crowd.///Ah Jun is making fun of him. He’s sure of it.A Madman’s Diary. He squints at the pages in the dim light of evening, casting back and forth between the book and his pocket dictionary like a fisherman trawling for clams in the low tide. His head is pounding with the effort of dissecting each character and putting it back together, but he rolls up his metaphorical dungarees and slogs deeper into the sand and the muck. He wants to know. He wants to be in on the joke. But the further he gets, crawling down the page like a particularly determined snail, the more idiotic it seems.This is stupid. Why is he reading this? He owes Ah Jun nothing. Least of all this splitting headache scrambling his brains to jelly. Still, irritation prickles at his heels, driving him on. If Ah Jun is laughing at him, then Quanzi will laugh, too.The man in the book is crazy, obviously. The title says so. And Quanzi is crazy for wanting to force feed himself with this rubbish. Muttering to himself, he rubs his palm against the throbbing meat of his skull and pushes away from the desk. Fuck books. Fuck Ah Jun, and fuck Officer Liu while he’s at it.The book makes a satisfying thwack against the wall when it hits and tumbles to the floor in a slurry of scattered pages. Quanzi leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. His brain feels thick inside his skull, throbbing in time to the slap of rain against the skylight. When he looks up, even the watery grey glow of an overcast day is like pouring acid straight into his eyeballs. He blinks away welling tears. It’s just like cutting onions. He wasn’t made for this kind of thing.There’s a letter to Guangde sitting half-finished on his desk. He feels momentarily stupid—what does Guangde care for his cobbled-together nonsense, the boring drudgery of his daily life? Then he remembers the endless stretch of grey days, how the monotony only seemed to lift when someone got correspondence. How, if they were a halfway decent sort, they would let everyone crowd around for the latest gossip that wasn’t spoon-fed from the newspaper. Petty stuff, mostly, or small-town nonsense that made no sense to anyone but the letter’s recipient. But it was something. Something real and colorful in a blank grey world.Quanzi rocks forward and braces his elbows on the desk. Doesn’t even bother picking up where he left off, just puts pen to paper and scratches out a few sentences like a chicken scraping barren dust for the last kernel of corn.
Met this guy today. Kind of a jerk. He needs a good seeing-to, but I’m not sure if I’m the man to do it.
He thinks he’s real smart. Thinks he can make me look like an idiot. But the joke’s on him. I know where he likes to hang out. This place I found—good singer. Cute. I think he likes her. But it won’t matter much when I break his glasses for him.
///Yaqiu’s voice grates on his ears tonight. It’s a disappointment. He’d hoped she, at least, would make him feel better, make him feel more like himself. But his head isn’t cooperating. He wants to put his head down on the table and muffle the sound—or better yet, just walk out. But he can’t. Brushes is determined to drown his sorrows over his latest spat with his girlfriend, and anyway, Quanzi is waiting for Ah Jun.He’s waiting so he can punch him in the face.He’s lurking on the fringes of the crowd tonight, feeling extraneous. Brushes has a girl on each arm and doesn’t seem to require his presence, so Quanzi ignores him in favor of scanning the club. It’s strange how their eyes slide over him. He’s not dressed badly, he doesn’t think. He doesn’t look out of place. But somehow, he has become part of the backdrop of this place. If he got up and left, he doesn’t think anyone would miss him.Someone kicks the chair on the other side of the table and Quanzi jumps, scattering ash all over himself. He scowls. Really invisible, huh? So invisible you can’t even see where you’re going. “Huiquan!”Ah Jun throws himself down in the chair he just tripped over, grinning like a con artist with the winning card up his sleeve. He’s already had a few drinks, by the look of him—flushed and pouty, with a wet sheen to his lower lip that doesn’t look entirely natural. Quanzi forgets all the words he’d been practicing in his head for when he saw Ah Jun again.“Look!” Ah Jun says, leaning back far enough that the front two legs of his chair lift off the ground. He’s wearing his new high tops. They look a little less ridiculous in the dark of the karaoke bar, but that’s not saying much. “Told you I was gonna wear them dancing.”Quanzi eyes him dubiously. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Dancing?”Ah Jun blinks wide, bashful dark eyes at him from behind his glasses, then bursts into laughter. It grates against the grain of the song, and a few heads turn, a few angry mutters slink into his ears like sibilant snakes. Quanzi ducks his head and stamps the butt of his cigarette out before it can scorch his fingertips.“You’re an idiot,” he mutters. “And you’re going to get us kicked out.”“For what?” Ah Jun wonders. He bats his eyes like he’s some kind of starlet, doesn’t even flinch when Quanzi kicks him under the table.“You better hope you weren’t kissing nobody’s girl, four-eyes. No one gives a shit if a guy wants to take you out back and show you what’s what for putting your hands on his property.”Ah Jun’s eyes go round and wide. “You know dancing sometimes just means dancing, right?” A sly look touches the edges of his lips, and Quanzi wants to shrink away. He doesn’t trust that smile. “What did you think I meant, yesterday? When I asked you to dance?”Quanzi makes himself look away, across the dim sea. Through the bodies he can see Yaqiu, framed in fits and starts by the shuffling crowd, like a pale pink lotus in a deep red pool. He tries to think about kissing her, tasting her, but his tongue just feels like sawdust at the water-thin image in his mind.“I thought you were being an idiot,” Quanzi says evenly.For once, Ah Jun doesn’t laugh. Instead he stares—Quanzi can feel the force of his gaze boring into the side of his face, sharp and deliberate.“How did you like the book?” he says at last. Quanzi nearly bites his cigarette in two. “It’s a favorite of mine. I see you haven’t used it for rolling papers, yet.”Quanzi slams back from the table and turns away. He’s too angry, too broiling-bright in the face of this puppy’s self-absorption. Rolling papers, indeed. He’d been tempted to tear more than a few pages out, for kindling if nothing else, but pride stayed his hand, as pride stays him now. He turns his collar up against Ah Jun’s indignant exclamation and shoulders his way to the front door.He’s only just managed to shake the teasing of the boys loitering out front when he hears the quick patter of cheap shoes on concrete, hears Ah Jun’s voice strung high and thin as he calls for him to wait. Quanzi doesn’t wait. He digs his hands deeper into his pockets, one thumb rubbing against the worn-down engraving on his lighter like a worry stone, and trudges on. Maybe Ah Jun will catch up with him—he doesn’t really care. At least here there won’t be anyone to watch him beat the tar out of him.“Huiquan! I said, wait up!”There’s a tickle at the edge of his coat, like Ah Jun had tried to grab him. Quanzi pulls up short and lets the other man slam into him from behind. There’s a very satisfying oof, and then a half-swallowed grunt as Quanzi spins around and shoves him. In the bleak glare of the nearest streetlight, Ah Jun’s face flashes surprise as he goes down in a heap. Something hard—his elbow?—hits concrete and he gives a yelp as his glasses go skittering across the pavement.Quanzi sinks his weight back in his heels, in the soft cartilage of his knees, ready for retaliation. But Ah Jun just lays there. Blinking. A fine mist has begun to fall, and it dampens his hair into loose curls around his forehead and flushed cheeks. Something hot and confusing twists Quanzi’s stomach, stabbing lower, and he crosses his arms over his chest to muffle it.“Leave me alone,” he snaps. He drags his toe back a few centimeters, half wanting to kick Ah Jun in the ribs for good measure. But Ah Jun doesn’t even make the effort to defend himself, and it draws Quanzi up short.“But,” Ah Jun blurts, “what about Yaqiu?”“What about her?”“She needs someone to walk her home. This isn’t—isn’t a nice part of town.” Ah Jun’s voice falters on this last declaration, and his eyes slink sideways. It occurs to Quanzi to wonder, for the first time, what valuables he might have on his person. Apart from the shoes, he reckons he could find a good buyer for most of it. Especially that pretty watch peeking out of his jacket sleeve.“Not a nice part of town, huh? What are you doing here, then, if you’re so high and mighty?” He nudges him in the ribs with his toe unkindly—and there, finally, Ah Jun’s stubborn lower lip makes an appearance. “And what do you know about Yaqiu, anyway? Were you stalking us or something?”“I just wanted to make sure,” Ah Jun insists, eyes gleaming strangely without his glasses to conceal them. “That you were…”“Fuck’s sake, four-eyes, spit it out.”“I told you, I went to school with her!” At last Ah Jun seems to tire of lying on the ground with Quanzi’s shoe in his side, and he climbs to his feet, brushing himself off. “What if you were unkind? I had to make sure you would do right by her.”Quanzi grits his teeth at the assumption that he would lay a single fucking finger on a schoolgirl, of all things—but Ah Jun has a point, even if he doesn’t know it. “Well, you were right. I’m not kind.”“That’s not true,” Ah Jun fires back, quick as a punch to the guts. Quanzi is so taken aback he doesn’t know how to respond. “You escorted her home, very nicely. A perfect gentleman.”“Between the two of us, I am not the gentleman,” Quanzi mumbles. He’s almost forgotten about that goddamned book. He doesn’t really want to think about it, though. Or talk about it. Or talk to Ah Jun ever again. He turns away and starts walking. “You walk her home, then, Junzi,” he calls over his shoulder to drown out the sound of Ah Jun’s sputtering. He doesn’t bother looking back.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
He doesn’t see Ah Jun at the bar again for a few weeks. Granted, Quanzi isn’t there every night. He isn’t made of money, even if the market is starting to pick up. Nor does Ah Jun show up at his stall again, or at the bookseller’s. Quanzi reluctantly drags his heels in that direction one day, after he’s packed up. The auntie is bundling her things together in slow motion. Quanzi thinks about offering to help, and decides against it.Instead, his eyes fall on a slender volume with a pretty green cover. It looks like new, but the pages have been artfully yellowed to give the appearance of antiquity. There’s a painting on the cover he recognizes from the museum—he remembers standing in front of it thoughtfully for about ten minutes, more keenly aware of the giggling art students at his back than the masterpiece in front of him. Perhaps they were drawing him, he’d thought at the time. Perhaps they saw something noble in his brow, something commendable in the curve of his shoulders. He was posing, though he didn’t care to admit it.He’d lost interest in the painting when the girls moved on, whispering to each other and passing their notebooks back and forth. He can’t remember the details, but something about the muted colors and the vague, swirling shapes catches his eye, and he suddenly feels a burning desire to have it.“Three fifty,” says the auntie before he can even inquire. The sum offends him, and he makes no bones of it, but she won’t budge. “Three fifty, and be quick. Daylight’s wasting.”Quanzi grumbles some more, and passes over the money. He’d made enough today to break even on his last shipment and a little extra, but it still burns his fingers and his gut—burns almost as badly as the need to have that book. He hasn’t even read the title.They’re all drops in a bucket, anyway. Coins and paper money all falling into the same gaping maw. Quanzi is just a brief stop on the way to whatever comes next.By the time he gets home, his enthusiasm has faded. He feels stupid. What was he thinking, buying a thing like this? He probably isn’t even going to read it. That book Ah Jun gave him is still on the floor. The angle of his throw landed it just outside of his normal line of sight, unless he’s sitting at his desk, and he hasn’t sat at the desk all week. Now he remembers it, with a stale pang of old anger. He goes and picks it up. It’s a blank grey canvas cover, like the color of chewed up old newspaper. With a grunt of irritation, he shoves it into the stove and lights a match. So much for rolling papers, but it’ll get a nice fire going to warm his frigid bones.His new purchase sits on the corner of his desk, forgotten. He’s still waiting for a letter from Guangde. It’ll be a few days.The next day, Ah Jun is at the market. Quanzi recognizes him first by his high tops, which seem to bounce and fray through the milling crowd like carbuncles thrown in with the pig slop. Gaudy and ridiculous and unnecessary. Quanzi immediately busies himself with attracting a potential customer, a painfully obvious out-of-towner with a frizzy perm and a mustache that looks like he shaved off his pubes that morning and stuck them to his face. He buys plenty, though, enough that Quanzi even smiles broadly when they make the trade.Unfortunately, as soon as he leaves, there is an immediate dearth of customers. Perhaps the man had a foul odor to him that deterred anyone else from coming near, and Quanzi hadn’t noticed. His nose has been running all day. He wipes it with the back of his wrist and looks around desperately.“Huiquan!”Fuck. Quanzi tucks his chin into his collar and bounces a little on the balls of his feet, pretending not to notice.“Hey man! Long time no see.” Ah Jun fetches up hard against his stall with his hip, and the whole thing shivers on impact.“Watch it,” Quanzi snaps. He can’t think why Ah Jun is so delighted to see him, after last time, and it makes him jittery. “If you break it, you buy it.”“Right, right,” Ah Jun says soothingly. He eyes a pair of suspenders hanging off the awning from a clip, tickles their shiny buckled ends with a curious hand. “Hey, man, I found another book you might like. Last one was kinda boring, right? I guess you didn’t like it.”Quanzi eyes him carefully. He can’t tell if he’s being mocked. The words suggest he is, but Ah Jun’s face is so open and trusting, and the glasses make him look five years younger—maybe ten. How old is he, anyway?Ah Jun’s bright and open face falls when Quanzi just stares at him. “That bad, huh? Well. What kind of stuff do you like to read, then?”“I’ll read anything,” Quanzi hears himself say. “I like crime.”Ah Jun squints at him. “Oh yeah?”Quanzi’s throat locks up. Does he know? If he does, how? And why is Quanzi so worried about it? He’s never cared before what people think of him, and the fact that he did time keeps the more annoying sorts at bay. That settles it, he thinks wryly to himself. He definitely doesn’t know, or else he’d be far away. “I guess,” Quanzi says.“Oh.” For some reason, Ah Jun looks disappointed. “Well, never mind then. You just… I thought…”“You thought what?”“You have kind eyes,” Ah Jun says at last, lamely. He almost looks like he regrets saying it. But he doesn’t take it back. “I had a teacher in high school with eyes like yours. He taught literature. He was a little weird,” he adds, picking up steam, “a little morbid, maybe. It was hard to tell. He was in the middle of a divorce, so who knows. But he gave me that book, since I liked it so much, and when I saw you standing there with your nose all red in the cold and your sleepy eyes, I thought, maybe he would like it, too. But that was stupid of me, I guess.”Quanzi doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been told his eyes were kind, before.“Well, sorry for bothering you,” Ah Jun says, rallying. But his cheerful tone falls flat. He half-turns away, gesturing wide, and for the first time Quanzi sees the booklet tucked into his coat pocket. “I’ll see you around, Li Huiquan.”“Wait.”He doesn’t know why he says it. Ah Jun is obviously touched in the head, if he likes reading books about eating people and going around telling strangers they have nice eyes. If he were anyone else—if he were a girl—Quanzi would think he was flirting. It gives him a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach as Ah Jun turns back, squinting against the light.“Let me see it, then.”Ah Jun hesitates, gnawing on his lower lip. Like an animal ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger, he draws close again and pulls the book from his pocket. It’s small but thick, like Quanzi’s pocket dictionary, the cover a nondescript red. Kidskin, Quanzi realizes, even if it’s flaking away from the binding in places.“It’s just some poetry,” Ah Jun says sheepishly. “Silly, I know. Not anything terribly modern, either—it’s the stuff they make you recite in school, or copy down until your hand wants to fall off. You probably know it.”Quanzi does. He remembers his mother having a copy on the shelf. He doesn’t ever remember her opening it.“So now you think I’m a child,” he says flatly. The truth comes to him even as he speaks the words. First Ah Jun laughed at him for being crazy, and now he’s mocking him for his ignorance.“Look!” Ah Jun snaps suddenly. He reaches out, quick as a blink, and grabs the book out of his hands. “I didn’t say you had to take it!” With a great deal of fussing, he shoves it back into his pocket and hunches his shoulders against the light drizzle that’s begun to mist from the slate sky. Quanzi watches the performance in shocked silence. How is it that he is the offender, here? Has he misread this whole debacle?“Hey. Don’t be like that, Junzi,” he wheedles. A salesman through and through. “I thought you were making fun.”“Fun of what?” Ah Jun says in an injured tone. But he isn’t walking away. “I just wanted to do something nice, to say sorry. Sorry for the Ah Qi, and sorry for—for thinking you were too rough-looking to walk Yaqiu home. There.” He gives a sharp little nod of his head, satisfied with himself. “Maybe next time we meet you won’t deck me, huh?”Quanzi feels a shred of guilt for that. Damn him, but it’s hard to keep hold of his dislike for Ah Jun—his smile turns everything slippery, and whenever Quanzi tries to grab for it and hold on, to cradle that familiar old nugget of pessimism to his chest, it passes through his fingers like smoke.“Is that what all this was about?” Quanzi snorts. “Seeing if I was good enough for your childhood sweetheart?”“She’s not my sweetheart,” Ah Jun says quickly, frowning behind his glasses. “And no one is good enough for her, so don’t worry about that. She’s a daddy’s girl. Don’t let the dollface fool you—she thinks highly of herself. Still. Old friends, and all. I felt like I had to look out for her.” He flashes a quick grin. “And like I said, you have nice eyes. Glad to see my intuition is still good.”Quanzi rolls his eyes. “Go on, then. You’re scaring off my customers.”“Oh!” Ah Jun startles like a flushed rabbit and plops the book down on the table. “There. Tell me which is your favorite, next time. Okay?”Next time? The bar isn’t a very good place for talking about literature. But Quanzi nods anyway, since it seems like the thing to do, and watches as Ah Jun takes off into the crowd, bobbing up and down like a ballet dancer until he dwindles, fades, and disappears.///The days are getting colder. Quanzi uses up all the leftover lumber under his bed and starts having to dole out cash for briquettes just like everybody else. The clothing trade ebbs and flows. Sometimes he puts enough away in a week to splurge a little—like spending money on a hot breakfast after his morning run, when it’s not so cold that it hurts to breathe—and other weeks he pinches his pennies and lives off of instant noodles and boiled eggs.Either way, he always finds his feet carrying him to the karaoke bar on Saturdays. Yaqiu’s star is rising, but she’s not the whole reason. Watching her tiptoe her precarious way up the lowest rungs of stardom is depressing. Sometimes Quanzi thinks he wouldn’t be there at all, listening to her trilling, incomprehensible warbles, watching her bat her eyes caked with too much makeup, if it weren’t for Ah Jun.Ah Jun seems just as obsessed with Yaqiu as Quanzi is, but for an entirely different reason. He watches her the way an older brother does, narrow-eyed and protective. He doesn’t seem to notice the way Quanzi stares at her for too long sometimes. Or if he does, he doesn’t say anything. He’s warned Quanzi off her already, anyway—perhaps he thinks he’s made his point.Point or no, Quanzi thinks, the warning falls flat. He is trapped in a spider’s web of guilt and fascination and mangled lust over the girl on the stage, and none of that is particularly endearing. To her or to anyone else. Even if she fancies him (absurd), or even if she respects him (laughable), Quanzi is still a stick in the mud beside her gaudy, girlish floundering onstage. He is disgusted by her clumsy wiles even as he’s drawn in by them. It makes his head hurt, sometimes, thinking about it.At least Ah Jun is oblivious. Quanzi doesn’t want to think about the shame he’d feel if Ah Jun knew about the tangled-up knots Quanzi carries strung up between his ribs like a poorly-made cat’s cradle. So he doesn’t tell him. For once, literature makes more sense to him than base desire.“I think you’re bonkers,” Ah Jun tells him cheerfully one night on the frosty cusp of earliest spring.“All right then,” Quanzi says affably. Yaqiu is between sets, leaving room for other half-drunk college students to try their luck on stage, and it’s easier to drown out their pathetic caterwauling, especially when he leans close across the table and into Ah Jun’s space. He stabs the page of the book sitting open on the table. “It says right there, if you don’t believe me.”There’s a wonderful thing he’s starting to understand: words aren’t finite. They can mean just one thing, or many things, and when you pull them apart soon it doesn’t matter what the author meant when he said—“The moon isn’t just the moon,” Ah Jun says insistently. “The moon is family—”“What am I, then?” Quanzi interrupts. He’s a little bit prickled now, and his fingers creep along his thigh to his pocket, subconsciously aching for a cigarette. “A crescent?”“It’s symbolic. You’re a moon, too, Quanzi.”Quanzi rolls his eyes and lights up. “And you’re ridiculous.”He remembers the poem from school, years and years ago, but he can’t say it made much of an impression beyond the rote rhythms of the half-remembered syllables. Of course Ah Jun would know the meaning behind it, but Quanzi is having more fun fucking with him.“I think he’s horny,” he says belligerently around the filter. Ah Jun bursts out laughing. “The moon is his enormous manhood… casting shadows…”“Fuck off,” Ah Jun gasps, clutching his sides. “Okay, what about this one?”He takes the book back and flips through it, muttering to himself. He’s declined a cigarette each time Quanzi asks, so his fingers are free of nicotine stains and his teeth are a frightening, brilliant white against his brandy-red mouth. Quanzi isn’t sure why he’s so compelled by it—like the fine, downy hairs on Yaqiu’s upper lip, Ah Jun’s mobile mouth draws his eye again and again.“...how about a cup of wine instead?”“Huh?”“The poem. Aren’t you paying attention to me?” He pouts, sticks his lower lip out like a child. Quanzi blows a stream of smoke into his face.“I never pay attention to you.”His eyes drift across the crowd to the stage. The magnetism of Yaqiu’s presence feels watered-down tonight. Perhaps it’s her hair, hanging limp and unattractive across her brow in the sticky, smoke-filled heat of the club. Maybe it’s the weather—rainy, perpetually damp. The city feels swollen and on edge, irritable, and Quanzi is carried along with it, a twig caught up in a river’s torrent.“I’m tired of sitting here,” he says suddenly. He’s caught sight of Cui through the crush of people, and he doesn’t fancy hanging around to make conversation. Things are still awkward between them after their trade. Quanzi would rather forget the whole business.“Where are we going, then?” Ah Jun asks, jumping to his feet. They soldier outside together, elbow to elbow—the empty spaces they left behind are quickly filled, like the suck and slurp of muck erasing a line of footprints in the sand.It’s early, still. Not even eleven. If he goes home, he’ll sit around and be bored; or he’ll pore over his little book of poetry to try and find something that will make Ah Jun laugh. He scrubs his head and turns up his collar with a grunt. “Wherever.”They end up walking through the park. The rain has stopped for now, but everything is still soaked through; soon they give up skirting puddles and let their soles seep with rainwater. Quanzi’s toes feel ready to fall off, but his hands are warm in his pockets and the pinch of fresh air on his cheeks is preferable to the dingy, clotted air of the club. Ah Jun still has his book, and he pauses every now and then beneath a streetlight to read aloud in dramatic tones.Quanzi still doesn’t know quite what happened. It’s not as if he’s trying to keep Ah Jun around. He just… sticks. Like a burr. A particularly talkative and energetic burr. He attends the same college that Xiaofen has just graduated from, but hasn’t ever met her—nor, he claims, is he keen to. He proclaimed her “stuck up” when Quanzi let slip that she scarcely ever gave him the time of day when they happened to meet in the street, and then laughed himself sick when Quanzi finally caved and told the story about Xiaofen’s unfortunate incident with the public toilet. Quanzi doesn’t know why he told that story—he had sworn to never disclose it, after all. But something about Ah Jun inspires talkativeness in him. Maybe it’s Ah Jun’s own mouth, which runs and runs like a faucet. Or maybe it’s Quanzi himself. Cooped up alone in his apartment, spending his days with only himself for company behind a steady stream of faceless, nameless customers, leaves a lot of room for thinking and not much else.He ends up telling Ah Jun a lot of things. He tells him about the labor camp—unlike everyone else, Ah Jun is actually curious, and he drinks up the details like a sponge—and about Political Instructor Xiu, the only person who ever made Quanzi want to be better. He tells him about lying awake at night as a child and thinking about dying. About what came after, if anything did. About his father’s shoes, stinking of leather polish.He tells him about his mother.Ah Jun’s parents are both alive, but they live apart. From the sound of it, Quanzi has nothing to be jealous of. If Quanzi is a crescent, Ah Jun has deliberately stepped into earth’s shadow, eclipsing himself with his studies. He works hard, plays hard, and somehow still has the energy to regale Quanzi with outrageous stories, stories he only recognizes later as bedtime tales from his own childhood. He paints himself as Guan Yu and Sun Wukong, twisting the well-worn tales into something Quanzi barely recognizes until Ah Jun peels back the layers, one at a time, and then, like a firework bursting in a new year’s sky, the pieces connect in Quanzi’s mind.“Your tongue is too clever for your own good,” he will say, torn between laughing and shaking him in amazed, amused frustration. Surely one boy—a man, in truth, but so irreverent and full of tricks that it’s easy to forget—should not be so quick with words?Tonight, under the light-stained sky, Quanzi feels strangely like he’s in the presence of a friend, a brother. But Ah Jun isn’t like any friend he’s ever had. He isn’t greedy like Brushes, or lustful like Guangde, or slimy like Cui. He gives the gift of laughter and requires nothing in return. If he were anyone else, walking side by side on the wet pavement, he could almost be a suitor. Quanzi tries to imagine Auntie Luo keeping an eye on them from a slight distance, and his face screws up—confusion, laughter, horror? He isn’t sure.He tries to picture Yaqiu beside him like this, reading to him aloud while he spins lazy circles around her on his bicycle. She would be too proud, he realizes with dismay. She was content to use him, once, to play on his affections, and he was blind enough to hope that walking her home like that was enough to constitute a courtship. If that’s the only requirement, he thinks bitterly, then Ah Jun’s hand in marriage would be easy to come by.Ah Jun seems to sense his change in mood. He tucks the book back into Quanzi’s overcoat pocket, giving him a hefty pat on the chest. “Time to call it a night? Or should we grab a bottle of something terrible and sit on the riverbank singing drunkenly until dawn?”Quanzi forces a smile. “Maybe next time.”“All right.” Like with everything, Ah Jun appears unbothered. Quanzi doesn’t know him well enough yet to be sure of his tone’s veracity. “The bus station isn’t far, let’s walk together.”It feels like Quanzi should be asking him for his number at the end of the night. A part of him, daring and desperate, almost wants to, just to see what would happen. But his body, ever miles and miles behind the churning of his mind, is sluggish, and only manages a weak nod as Ah Jun hops on the bus in one direction and Quanzi sits back to wait for the next.Sometime in that cold, lonely half-hour, it begins to rain. By the time he gets home he’s soaked through. He’s forgotten all about the book in his front pocket. He pulls out a sloppy, dissolving mess, and swallows down a bitter pill of guilt. He lays it out by the fire, along with his coat and boots, and by morning it’s crinkled and illegible, and he can’t remember the words well enough to be disappointed.///Dear Mother, Quanzi writes, and stops. Stares at the characters on the page. They seem to mock him in their brutality, in the wobbly edges of their strokes. In spite of the occasional letter he sends to Guangde, a steady hand eludes him.
Today, I saw the first flycatcher. It hopped around in the dirt outside my door. Brave thing. Or stupid. I squatted on the stoop and watched it for a while instead of going for a run. I don’t think it found much to eat, but it seemed happy enough.
He sits back in his chair and stares at what he’s written. It’s a bit clumsy, the little black towers leaning to one side like scaffolding on the wrong side of the equator. Maybe next time he’ll use a straight-edge.He’s not quite sure why he’s writing this. The idea had struck him upon waking, as if he’d been given a clear instructions in a dream. After he puttered around making breakfast and sitting on the stoop with a cup of tea, he sat down to write, and neither Guangde nor Yaqiu nor Xiaofen were in his mind when he set pen to paper.
You’re dead,
he writes, and then he has to put the pen down to breathe. What the fuck is wrong with him? How morbid is this, writing a letter to a dead woman? A woman he drove to death with his own stupidity, no less. Guilt claws at his stomach for a moment, a little rampaging demon hiding under his skin like a wasp trapped in his shirt, and then he bends down and writes very quickly, without thinking, the lines running together until the precariously-placed characters blur into a waterfall.
and I can’t change that, I can’t change that I miss you and I don’t know why I miss a woman who didn’t even birth me, who I didn’t see for three years and who never wrote me while I was in there
You should be here. If you were you would be telling me, dress nicer! Chin up! Shave every morning! Sit down so I can cut your hair
but instead of that (it would probably be annoying) I have Auntie Luo who tsks at me behind her curtains and shakes her finger at me the mornings after i come back too late and smelling like the bar. I don’t know how she knows but she does. I think she counts the cigarette butts I leave on the stoop she told me yesterday I was killing myself and I said so?
So???
The thing is, no one would care if he up and died, of smoking or of anything else. He’s convinced of it. Yaqiu would probably be relieved to be rid of him; then she and Ah Jun could walk home together arm in arm, laughing about the good old days. Somehow, in spite of their different paths in life, fate has decreed that they continue to cross, like two streams parting ways and then finding each other in the deep and lonely valleys. Meanwhile, Quanzi is a trickling creek, adrift and alone; he can remember, vaguely, like the first drip-drip-drips of snowmelt high in the mountains, the feel of Xiaofen’s hand in his. Of skipping along the train tracks together, without a care in the world. But whatever dark ravine he now finds himself in is so devoid of light, that any other conclusion seems impossible.He doesn’t go to the bar that week. He doesn’t feel like being in that crush, being buffeted from all sides like the ball in a pinball machine. At the mercy of the whims and dirty fancies of everyone around him. Last time he’d seen a guy put his hand up some slut’s skirt under the table—he’d ignored it, then, drawn away by the bright laughter of Ah Jun, but the memory of it now sickens him. People are all the same. Grunting and scrabbling in the muck for the same small rewards, all eager to point fingers, to fight to the death for the tiniest morsel. Quanzi is heartily sick of it.Instead he squats on the doorstep and chain smokes late into the night. One of the other tenants is playing the radio, something jangling and whiney and wistful all at once. He doesn’t mind it. There are no singers, at least, and so it’s a world of difference away from Yaqiu, from the cats in heat who frequent the karaoke bar.A little after midnight, the jazz upstairs is rolling out like a thick wool blanket over the crisp air, and someone is coming up the narrow street. Quanzi spat out the butt of his last cigarette a while ago. He’s just been sitting here, contemplating life. Contemplating not living, and whether anyone would miss him.“Hey,” says the someone. They come to a stop a few feet away, and their glasses flash bright white in the thin sliver of moonlight peeping down from the clouds. The last streetlight on Spirit Run Street died for good yesterday, and no one has been by to replace it yet.“Ah Jun?” Quanzi rasps, mouth like cotton. “The fuck are you doing here?”“Looking for you, obviously,” Ah Jun says sharply. He kicks his high tops in the dirt and comes closer, hands pushed into his pockets. He’s wearing a light windbreaker, too thin even for this not-quite-freezing frost-rimed weather, and his voice trembles a little as he speaks, like he’s trying to keep his teeth from chattering. “Why didn’t you come tonight?”Quanzi gives an expansive shrug that says everything and nothing. “Didn’t feel like it.” The doorpost digs into his spine as he settles back against it and fondles the length of another cigarette. He doesn’t light it though, not yet. He contemplates getting up for a drink of water and doesn’t do that, either.Ah Jun sniffs with the cold and adjusts his glasses. “Yaqiu’s gonna miss you.”“Yeah, right,” Quanzi says, more bitterly than he meant to. He clicks obsessively at his lighter cap, on, off, on, off. He barely registers the sharp metal snap of it against his thumb. “She could find a hundred guys just waiting to walk her home. Bunch of hyenas.”Ah Jun folds his arms tighter across his skinny chest. “What’s wrong with you, huh?”Quanzi chuffs. The lighter catches, flaring a hot yellow flame in front of his eyes. For an instant he sees it reflected twice over in Ah Jun’s glasses, sees his own crouched and wary form illuminated like two negatives taped side by side for printing. Then he thumbs it shut again with a decisive clack.“If you’re so worried about Yaqiu, why don’t you go walk her home?”Ah Jun seems to fight with himself for a bit before bursting out, “Because I’m more worried about you.”Quanzi doesn’t know what to say. No one has cared enough about him to worry, not since Mother. Auntie Luo doesn’t count—she’s just a busybody. More intrigued by the private lives of the tenants than their actual needs, Li Huiquan included.He wants to disbelieve Ah Jun, but he can’t. It’s an okay ride by bike to the nightclub, but to walk it, alone in the dark, feels like proof of something.“Why?” he asks finally, through numb lips.Ah Jun frowns. “Because you’re my friend, of course. We always meet there in the evenings. Or we have for the past few weeks, anyway.” He jerks his chin at the cracked-open door over Quanzi’s shoulder and waves his arm around. He’s holding a bottle of wine, Quanzi realizes—he hadn’t seen it before, lost to the shadows of his bulky jacket. “Are you gonna invite me in? Or are we just gonna stand out here and flap our gums all night in the cold?”“It’s not that cold,” Quanzi replies automatically, even though it is. The lingering warmth of the sun on the ground has leeched away, and when he pushes upright, the rush of blood to his legs feels like pins and needles.Inside, he’s ashamed. It’s messy in here—even worse in the bedroom, behind the curtain, and he vows not to let Ah Jun back there if he can help it. Ah Jun sits at the table without a word and unscrews the cap. By the hollow sound of the swish, he’s already dipped in. When Quanzi gets close enough, he can smell it on him, strong and acidic even though his words and movements are steady enough.“You hold your liquor pretty good for such a scrawny kid,” he says, fishing two cleanish tea cups from the nightmarish stack on the counter and plopping them down.Ah Jun narrows his eyes. “Kid, is it?”“Comrade, then,” Quanzi says magnanimously. Ah Jun gives him a funny look, but he ignores it, eyes fastened instead on the greenish pour of the wine from the bottle. It sounds a bit like piss against the porcelain, but then the smell hits him a moment later and it’s stark enough to feel like a slap in the face when he knocks back a healthy swallow.“How old are you, anyway?” Ah Jun asks once he’s had a sip or two of his own. His cheeks look pinker in here than they had outside. His lips are plump and wet with wine. “I’m twenty-two.”“Twenty-five,” Quanzi says reluctantly. For some reason that gap feels significant, even though Yaqiu is even younger.“Not so old then,” Ah Jun says cheerfully, ever oblivious of the doldrums in which Quanzi sails. “Do you get much sleep? Your tired eyes make you look older.” He takes another sip and then reaches out, bold as brass. Startled and at a loss, Quanzi just watches. A moment later he feels the soft touch of a fingertip near the corner of his eye, and he blinks slowly, looking at the table. “Little Li,” he murmurs. “Why does Yaqiu call you that?”“Dunno,” he mumbles. Ah Jun is still touching him. Even though it’s a light touch, barely there, the significance of it weighs on him like a ton of bricks. It’s the first time he’s been intentionally touched, barring handshakes, in years.“You’re not so little,” Ah Jun pronounces, and finally lets him go. He drains his cup and hefts the bottle, swishing it around invitingly. “C’mon. You’re sad, I can tell, even if you won’t talk about it. So drown your sorrows with me.”Quanzi snorts, but finishes off his wine and holds the cup out for more. “What do you have to be sad about, anyway?”“Me? Why!” He smacks his chest with his hand like an actor hamming up a parody of grief. “Isn’t it enough that my dearest and most beloved comrade is in mourning for some mysterious thing?”“No,” Quanzi says flatly. He doesn’t care for mockery on the whole, and he isn’t in the mood for Ah Jun’s particular brand of joviality tonight.“Hff.” Ah Jun drops his hand, elbow thunking down hard on the table. He braces his cheek on his closed fist, and for the first time Quanzi sees the bruising there, the way his knuckles swell and crack with use. He’s been hitting something, or someone. Badly, too. His hands are too white and delicate for that kind of work, and he’s obviously not used to it.“Don’t you know,” Quanzi says after a bit, nudging Ah Jun’s foot under the table with his own, “small fry, you’re supposed to ask your friends to back you up?”Ah Jun’s vague, disinterested mask falls away in an instant. For a heartbeat he almost looks frightened—then he laughs again, shrill and hollow, and his teeth are white as bleached bones against his red, red mouth. “I fight my own battles, thanks. You know something about that, don’t you, Basher Li?”Quanzi shrugs uncomfortably. He realizes that he’s starting thinking of himself that way less and less. He’s no longer as callous at the thought of blood as he used to be.“I’m just saying. If you need someone’s head kicked in, call me. I’ll bring my rolling pin.”Ah Jun belts out a startled laugh. “Your what?”“I’m serious! What, you think I ever only fought with my fists?”“Sure! Or knives, maybe.”“Only in dire straits. You gotta be prepared—never know what the other guy is gonna throw at you.” Against all odds, he’s warming to the subject. Quanzi nods at Ah Jun’s battered hand. “Gotta get you a proper weapon. Mine was a rolling pin—easy to carry, easy to throw away. You can whip it out in a second and man, it won’t cut you but it does the job. Crack it over someone’s head and they’re down. Here, let me see if I have one lying around—”“No, don’t!”Ah Jun has been smiling up til now, but suddenly the shrill sound of his voice is as far from amused as it could get. He stretches a belated smile across his gums, but the artificiality of it turns it ghastly. “I’m not—not really the fighting type, you know. Don’t waste a rolling pin on me.”Quanzi sits back down and frowns at him intently. He isn’t the type for eye contact, usually, but Ah Jun’s suddenly wavering gaze puts him on high alert. “What happened? Get on the wrong side of a turf war or something?”“No-ooo,” Ah Jun murmurs, dragging out the last syllable like he’s reluctant to let it go. He peers down at his cup of wine and gives it a bit of a swirl. “Just some kids at school.”“You get in fights in college?”“I don’t! Not normally, I mean. But it’s not so different from high school, really. Just the classes are harder, and the professors have no time for you unless they know your parents, and sometimes—”Quanzi cocks his head. “Sometimes what?”“Sometimes.” Ah Jun shrugs and takes a sip of wine. “People don’t really grow out of their childhoods, you know? Those kids on the playground who would push you around, they don’t go away just because they got older. Sometimes it’s not like, hey, c’mere kid, I’m gonna shove your face in a toilet, it’s more like—you looked at me wrong, so let’s meet behind the quad after dark and play a little game.”He sneers, affectatious, but Quanzi can’t find it in himself to be annoyed. Instead, he just feels rage. He’s a little bit shocked by it. The strength of it burns bright inside his belly, flaring up and scouring out the fog of alcohol and sadness—he feels like if he opened his mouth and roared, he would belch out flame.“Who,” he says flatly, instead. “I’ll take care of it.”“Quanzi.” Ah Jun stops himself there, almost startled, and it takes Quanzi a minute to recognize it. That this is the first time that Ah Jun has referred to him by that nickname. “I’m—I appreciate it. I do. But first of all… well, it’s just not realistic. And anyway, even if it was, don’t you think three years is enough?”Still on a rampage in his mind—the make-believe crack and splatter of skulls against his righteous rolling pin is very satisfying—Quanzi sticks his chin out and says, “I’d do another three, for you.”He almost wishes he could take it back, once it’s out. Not because it isn’t true. But because it is. He’s both shocked at the realization and afraid of it. It would be easier to swallow the words and pretend they never happened, and he tries, picking up his cup to guzzle its contents like he’s zooming full-tilt toward blackout.But then he puts down the cup. Ah Jun is very quiet. Sitting still as a statue, his soft face lit coarsely from above—his glasses hide his eyes, from this angle, but there’s a disturbing pucker to his lower lip that frightens Quanzi.“Hey,” he says carefully, like a kid poking an injured bird with a stick. “Don’t take it so hard, man. You’re just my friend, that’s all.”The word feels wooden coming out of his mouth. He hasn’t had a friend in a very long time. Across from him, Ah Jun gives a little sniff and nods. “Only took you a few months to admit it,” he mumbles.Quanzi kicks him under the table.The rest of the evening unspools into dark, unwoven threads interspersed with bright blurts of laughter. Ah Jun’s chair migrates around the table until he’s sitting practically in Quanzi’s lap. In his drunken state, it doesn’t seem that strange. It’s easier to share the bottle this way. They pass it back and forth, the cups long forgotten, and Quanzi feels the world tipping very slowly onto its side.With his head on the table, he watches Ah Jun’s hand come closer and closer. Feels it stroke through his hair like his mother used to do when he was small and woke from nightmares, trapped and confused by the moist dark of the earth pressing in at him from all sides. He doesn’t feel trapped now. Ah Jun’s mouth is red and glistening, breathing the heavy funk of wine into his face from behind too-big teeth. His glasses have slipped down his nose and he doesn’t seem to notice.Quanzi’s laughter sounds rusty in his own ears. Like a foreign language he once knew but then forgot, and is now slowly relearning. Ah Jun is fluent—he speaks it frequently, at volume, and at first Quanzi hadn’t understood it. He’d thought he was being mocked. Now he knows, Ah Jun is just trying to share it with him. Trying to teach him how to speak after years spent in solitary with no one to talk to but the blank cement walls.He doesn’t remember falling asleep. When he wakes up, he’s in bed—he doesn’t remember stumbling there. Doesn’t remember taking off his jeans. He’s in his sock feet, sprawled across the edge of the mattress with his boxers riding up his crack and his shirt twisted around his torso like a bizarre and ineffectual torture device. His mouth is drier than cotton and tastes like death. His dick is stiff inside his underpants.Where the fuck is my pillow? He groans and turns his head, and nearly jumps out of his skin. There, barely an inch away from his face, Ah Jun is asleep on his back, face turned toward him. He’s definitely asleep—his lips are parted on a permanent exhale, and his glasses have been shoved up into his hair, leaving his closed lids naked and shimmering with sleep-sweat in the early morning light. His lashes are very long and fringed with dried mucus. There’s a freckle, just under his left eye, that Quanzi has never seen before.His stomach twists up suddenly and he wonders for a second if he’s going to puke. That would be embarrassing. But it’s not that kind of discomfort, and neither is it the kind that threatens to send him to the pot as fast as his legs can carry him. His pelvis throbs, and a wash of heat clogs his pores—confusion and shame and hungover disgust all mangled together.Quanzi drags himself out of bed without waking Ah Jun. He flicks back the curtain to the kitchen and stands there, wavering. There are cigarette butts littered all over the table—he doesn’t remember smoking—and the bottle of wine is on its side, empty, the glass glowing a semi-translucent green beneath the label. He shuts his eyes.Something is happening to him. Something he doesn’t understand. Nor does he care to find out, in his present state—it’s all he can do to guzzle some water and stumble out to the bathroom and back without falling over. It’s early enough that no one is out and about to see him staggering around in his underwear and shoes, but that’s a small comfort. Auntie Luo probably peeked out at him through her curtains and had herself a nice tut over the breakfast table with her husband. Frankly, Quanzi’s too hungover to care.The dimness inside is refreshing. Moving on autopilot, he clears up the mess from last night and changes into a fresh shirt and pants. Ah Jun is still asleep. For a minute, Quanzi just stands by the bed and looks at him. He’s still fully dressed, including his shoes, with just a corner of the bedspread pulled over his chest like a child’s toy. He doesn’t look to have stirred at all in the ten or so minutes since Quanzi left the bed.He looks… tender. Soft. Quanzi wonders if he would melt away if he just reached out and…He snatches his hand away. He doesn’t know what impulse tugs at him, tingling his fingers and throbbing in time to the drumbeat in his head, but he doesn’t trust it. It’s not at all like the twisting, sour-edged desire he feels when he watches Yaqiu sing; not like the burning oil slick in his belly when he thinks about the magazine at Cui’s place. He doesn’t particularly like those things, but at least they’re familiar. Quantifiable.On the bed, Ah Jun stirs. He smacks his lips, frowning, and Quanzi rushes out again in a fuzzy, uncoordinated jumble to get him some water.“Here,” he says when he returns. Ah Jun’s head rolls on the flat pillow, all wrinkled up around the cherry of his nose. His glasses are tangled in the sheets, as are his legs, long and bare. Quanzi’s stomach flips over. “Drink, it helps.”“Drinking,” Ah Jun slurs, voice as cracked as a desert steppe, “is what got me here.” But he takes the cup and drains half of it in one go, throat bobbing in the half-light. Quanzi sits heavily on the edge of the bed and puts his head in his hands. “Hey.” Ah Jun taps him on the back with the water bottle. “You gonna be okay, big guy?”Quanzi just shrugs. He’s definitely not working today. He can’t imagine trying to make change or face the glaring sun in this state. “Don’t you have… class?” he mumbles, trying to remember what day of the week it is.“It’s Sunday,” is the muffled response. Ah Jun has given up trying to hand him the cup and sets it on the floor instead, his body now curled in a C shape around the top of the thin mattress pad. “I have a paper to write, later, but I’m not on any kind of pressing schedule.” His voice is still coarse, like the rough edges of a cauterized wound, but he sounds a little less groggy than before. Out of the corner of his eye, Quanzi watches him curl and uncurl his fingers in the edge of the bedspread. “D’you want me to leave?”“No,” Quanzi blurts. He doesn’t even have to think about it. Ah Jun’s hand goes still. “I mean, unless you want to.” He stares at the ground and wonders why he’s so anxious all of a sudden. He clears his throat and bends down to unlace his shoes. “I feel like shit so I’m going to sleep some more.”Ah Jun shuffles over wordlessly to give him some room. At first it’s awkward—in the sobering light of morning, lying beside him is not as innocent as it felt deep in his cups last night. He’s not hard anymore, at least. He shuts his eyes and wills himself to fall asleep. His head certainly aches enough that it should be easy to claw his way back into the forgiving cobwebs of unconsciousness.Ah Jun shifts onto his side, facing him. Quanzi holds his breath. “I’m sorry about the wine,” he whispers. His breath smells like a dead thing, but Quanzi doesn’t have much room to judge. He probes at his teeth with a cotton-dry tongue and hums.“‘S fine. It was… fun.” More fun than drinking alone. “Someone to share the misery with.”Ah Jun huffs a tiny laugh. “Anytime.”He doesn’t say anything more, and after a while, Quanzi drifts off. When he wakes again a few hours later to Auntie Luo knocking insistently on the door, Ah Jun is gone, and there’s a fresh cup of water sitting next to the bed, waiting for him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Spring is stuffy and thick with pollen; Quanzi’s nose runs almost constantly, and when it doesn’t, his head is a pounding drum skin pulled tight with heat and discomfort. His only consolation is his sales. There are slow days, of course—there always are—but the general trend feels like an up-and-up.He feels confident enough in his financial situation to make a few adjustments to his three-wheeler, and get some new tubing for his bicycle. It makes the ride to the club smoother, but that's not why he did it. He doesn't frequent the karaoke bar very often these days. Instead he takes long rides through the city on his off days, or in the evening when he's tired of standing and hoarse from talking, but still has bales of excess energy he can't seem to shift from his shoulders.Sometimes he bikes to Ah Jun's part of town and he finds a rowdy student bar to sit in and smoke until he can't feel his fingers. He isn’t really sure why he does. He feels stupid, circulating in a world he has no part in. He's afraid of seeing Xiaofen, too. Afraid that she will recognize him, his shabby clothes, his hangdog eyes, and laugh to see him: a monster from a nightmare made flesh, only the reality is so much less alarming than the fantasy that it’s kind of pathetic.He doesn't see her, though. Or Ah Jun. He tells himself he's not looking for him. That he's not concerned, even though it’s been weeks since Ah Jun has been to the nightclub. Exams are coming up—Quanzi knows because he overhears his fair share of drunken rambles about this paper or that professor. Foreign words, to him. Like this place is foreign, a separate echelon where he is an intruder, a spy slipping under the cover of night to mingle with the enemy.Quanzi is walking home in the gloaming hours of a weekend afternoon, some carefully-wrapped books tucked under his arm, when he sees Ah Jun next. Summer is licking at springtime’s sodden heels like a hungry, insistent fire, and he’s tacky with sweat from the walk—the exertion has left a darkish smear on the butcher’s paper.He’s hungry, walking quickly. Some leftovers from Auntie Luo’s birthday await him. He’d tried to avoid attending, and succeeded; tried to avoid being plied with sweets and barbecue, and failed. Now he doesn’t mind so much—it’s something to look forward to. His mouth is already watering.He makes a quick turn onto Spirit Run Street and is nearly flattened by a passing bicycle. He jumps out of the way just in time, spewing curses (what if he’d dropped his books?), and then he pulls up short when the rider squeaks to a stop and hops off, wearing a familiar face writ with apology.“Huiquan, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” Ah Jun rests his bike carefully on the ground and flutters into his space, an anxious butterfly hovering without quite making contact. “Are you okay?”Quanzi brushes him off. “I’m fine. What are you doing here?”Ah Jun stares at him, wide-eyed behind his glasses, and then grins, falteringly, with all of his teeth. “Coming to find you. You haven't been at the club this week. Yaqiu was getting worried.”He feels a strange, hot flush at those words. "What do you mean? You haven't been at the club, either.""How would you know?" Ah Jun says smugly, as if he's won an argument.Quanzi rolls his eyes. "Yaqiu probably doesn't even remember my name, so I know that part is a lie.""I never lie," Ah Jun says staunchly. He looks pointedly at the package cradled protectively under Quanzi’s arm. "What's this?""Just some things. Want to come in?" He jerks his thumb down the lane to where his apartment squats just out of sight. Ah Jun seems to hover indecisively for a moment.“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come out. With me. Not to the club,” he adds quickly when Quanzi's brow wrinkles. "Somewhere else. Somewhere fun."Quanzi narrows his eyes. It sounds like the beginning of a scam job. If it were anyone else, he would already be telling him to fuck off and find some other chump to do his dirty work. But… it’s Ah Jun. They’ve only known each other for a few months, but he already knows, deeply and without reservation, that he can trust him. Can trust him more than Guangde, or Brushes. More than Xiaofen, even though they grew up together.He glances at Ah Jun’s hands, but his knuckles have healed over and there are no signs of a recent beating. He wonders what happened, whether Ah Jun is looking to get revenge. He wonders if Ah Ju knows that Quanzi would back him up in a heartbeat.“All right,” he says at last. “Let me just put my things away.”They take the bus up to Dongcheng District. Ah Jun seems nervous. There’s plenty of chit-chat to catch up on, but he doesn’t say much, and Quanzi, sheeplike, follows suit. Instead he turns his focus inwards. His gut twinges and his fists grow stiff against his thighs, like his body is readying itself for battle. He lets it work its way through his system, embraces it. The calm before the storm. Even if he doesn’t have his old rolling pin anymore, he’s ready and willing to follow where Ah Jun leads.They disembark near the west gate and Quanzi shoves his hands in his coat pockets, following close on Ah Jun’s heels. He seems to know where he’s headed. A preordained meeting place, perhaps? That’s usually how it’s done. He feels in his pockets for something sharp to hold in his fist, just in case, and comes up empty except for his keys. Ah, well. He’s no slouch with bare knuckles.He tries not to think about Political Instructor Xiu’s disappointed face. Layers it over with Ah Jun’s instead. His blood burns hot in his veins and he picks up the pace.This part of town feels foreign on his palate. He is an interloper at Ah Jun’s side; gawky and graceless, thick-lipped, with hunched shoulders that strain the seams of his undersized coat. He sticks close and tries not to look at anyone. His eyes slide off into the dark.“Where are we headed?” he asks at last, when the crowds begin to thin. It rained earlier, and the pavement here is still wet. The soles of his shoes making slapping sounds as he matches his pace to Ah Jun, who is suddenly walking faster.“It’s down this way,” Ah Jun says, peeling away down a pedestrian lane. He moves so quickly that Quanzi has to skip a little to keep up. It’s a bit darker here. His shoulders loosen under the cover of night, lit up not by streetlights but by the putrid red-orange and cerulean glow of flashing signs and looping, squiggled advertisements that he can hardly read. “Just a place my friends and I hang out sometimes.”Quanzi skids to a stop. “What?”Ah Jun grabs at his sleeve. “Come on. Keep walking.” His eyes are darting this way and that behind his glasses. A chord of nervousness strums through Quanzi’s body and he pulls back, planting his feet like twin trees set on cracking the pavement.“What do you mean, friends? Why didn’t you mention this before?”“You know, friends! People I like! You’ll like them too, I promise.” Ah Jun tugs more insistently on his sleeve. “Can we just go? I think we’re being followed.”Quanzi stomps on the breaks. “What?”“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think they’d be hanging around here anymore.” Ah Jun’s eyes dart nervously from side to side, sliding around Quanzi’s bulk. “They’re just a couple of jerks from school. They think it’s funny to push people around, it’s not a big deal. Let’s just go.”Quanzi grabs his arm and pulls his hand to his face. The knuckles are clean and unbroken, but when his sleeve rides up he can see the dappled bruising decorating Ah Jun’s wrist. “They did this?” he growls. Anger boils in his belly but he lets go when Ah Jun pulls away. “Just point them out and I’ll deal with it.”“Don’t be stupid, it’s not worth it.”“Not worth it? Look at you! Cringing and cowering like a fucking dog!” He’s angry, so angry—it snaps at the back of his teeth and bites out into the heavy night air, unchecked. Ah Jun flinches away, and that makes it worse. Ah Jun is better than this.“Hey, Junzi!”Out of the thinning crowd, a few kids emerge—Quanzi feels like he’s looking into a warped mirror. They’re a year or two younger than him, probably, wearing ugly smiles, like hyenas prowling on a dark night. Quanzi was one of them, once. But they don’t recognize him for what he is, even though he recognizes them. They’re looking at their future and they don’t even know it.“Who’s your friend?“Yeah, who’s your friend? You think he’s gonna protect you?”“You gonna do something this time, tough guy? Or you just gonna cry for your momma?”One boy feints at them and Ah Jun startles back, provoking staggered laughter. “Oops! Don’t lose your glasses, four-eyes. You want to be able to see us so you can tattle later!”Quanzi pushes Ah Jun behind him ungently, and the other boy staggers back against the wall. “Fuck off, all of you,” he says calmly. He feels like he’s hearing his own voice through a telephone line, faded and tinny. “I’m only gonna tell you once.”There’s a chorus of whistles and cat calls, and ugly, snickering laughter as the hyenas close in.“Oooooh, Junzi, a white knight! You should tell him not to bother.” There’s one who seems to be the leader; shorter than the rest, but with sinewy forearms bared by his pushed-up sleeves, and a dead look in his eye that Quanzi recognizes. He is what Brushes could have been, if Brushes weren’t so goddamned afraid of everything, even his own shadow. “Step aside, man, we don’t know you. Run along.” He snaps his fingers and Quanzi almost loses it.“I said get lost!” he shouts. His voice echoes in the street, and the handful of nearby pedestrians suddenly walk a little faster. A bike zips by, ruffling the ringleader’s shaggy hair. “Fuck off, man, I’ll fucking kill you.”“Quanzi, don’t,” Ah Jun blurts in a strangled voice. Quanzi barely hears him. He just sees the glint of metal in the ringleader’s mouth, the twitching sclera of his squinted left eye. Quanzi curls his hands into fists and readies himself for the fight.“I beg your pardon, what’s going on here?”A smooth, cultured voice breaks through the haze, and Quanzi blinks away the dark film of bloodlust. It belongs to a man, materializing from the shadows cast in long, disjointed lines along the pavement—tall, lithely built, leering forward with a polite facade that’s almost more frightening than a sneer. He is wearing a suit, hair slicked back, wire-frame glasses glinting dully in the light of the apothecary across the street.He is out of place here. Alien enough that the hyenas sheathe their laughing teeth and stand back a little, darting glances at their ringleader. Then man sniffs, holding a handkerchief briefly to his nose in an affected manner.“Well? I asked you gentlemen a question, did I not?”There are only four of them, but apparently this newcomer weighs the scales enough in Quanzi’s favor. Spooked, they collect in a ragged line like scum in a gutter drain and trickle away into the night.Quanzi just stands there like an idiot for another minute or two, still hopped up on adrenaline and waiting for the buzz to settle. Behind him, Ah Jun gives a punchy sigh of relief and presses away from the wall.“Professor! Impeccable timing, as always.” His voice is still shaky, but he smoothes the front of his shirt with fastidious hands, and when he nods deeply to the newcomer he’s smiling bravely with two spots of color high on his cheeks. “Thank you for stepping in.”Quanzi’s mouth feels like it’s packed with dry meal. He steps back, trying to fade behind Ah Jun’s shoulder, but it’s too late—the professor’s ink-black gaze finds him anyway, bright with curiosity and something else, something that rubs Quanzi like the rough side of sandpaper.“It was no trouble,” the professor is saying, mouth moving independently of his roving, fish-hook eyes. “Serendipitous, I think. It’s been ages since I last saw you, Ah Jun.”His tongue curls familiarly around the syllables of Ah Jun’s name, and Quanzi bristles on his behalf. But Ah Jun just smiles, bright and beaming as a schoolgirl, and clasps the professor’s lily-white hands like an old friend. “Almost two years, I think. I haven’t seen you since you got back from your sabbatical.”“Oh, that! Yes, yes, it was quite enlightening. But who’s your friend?” the man inquires, slipping like a fish from Ah Jun’s eager grip. Out of the corner of his eye, Quanzi catches the way Ah Jun’s face falls, and he feels a spike of righteous justification at his instinctive dislike of the professor.Emboldened, Quanzi gives him the once-over, like he used to do when he was sizing up an opponent. He’s taller than Ah Jun but not taller than Quanzi, heron-slim, but dressed nicely enough that his proportions didn’t matter. There’s something slick about him that Quanzi doesn’t like. Like he’s privy to something that Quanzi doesn’t know, can never know.“Li Huiquan,” Ah Jun is saying, bright and effervescent. His voice bubbles up like wine in Quanzi’s ears, tickling them without really settling in.“Good to meet you,” the professor drawls. He sounds utterly uninterested in paying Quanzi any more attention, and in fact as soon as he can politely get away with it—maybe even before—he turns back and takes Ah Jun’s arm proprietarily. At his sides, Quanzi’s open hands turn to fists. “It must be fate, running into you. I was just thinking about you today, Junzi.”The back of Quanzi’s neck prickles. He’s never called Ah Jun something so childish and overly familiar. He only tolerates the same nickname in return because it’s better than Little Li.“Were you?” Ah Jun says. His voice sounds strange, almost distorted. “How funny.”Restless, wrong-footed, Quanzi lets his eyes wander over the street. They’re on the edge now, away from the main flow of traffic. People walk by them less than a foot away and don’t even notice. They aren’t bothered, like Quanzi is, by this strange man who materialized from the ground like a spirit, jaws slavering. He looks at Ah Jun, the way he talks to him, hungry, too intense. And Ah Jun, like a child, is playing right into his hands.Movement catches at the corner of his eye. Quanzi half-turns back and recoils as the professor seems to stroke Ah Jun’s cheek, tucking a loose strand of overlong hair behind his ear. Ah Jun’s cheeks are stained pink beneath the rosy splash of the dispensary across the street.Quanzi’s stomach revolts and his fists follow suit. So quick he can barely follow his own movements, he lunges the short distance across the paving stones and hits the professor square in the jaw.The crack of his knuckles against that rounded cheekbone is incredibly satisfying. He hasn’t hit someone in ages, a fact that only sinks in once the pain grips his hand—he’d gone about it all wrong, hadn’t held himself properly. He can already feel the twinge of complaint in his shoulder.“Quanzi!” Ah Jun’s fingers dig into his arm like claws, dragging him away as the nameless professor staggers upright. His face is pale and round like a moon in the darkness. “Quanzi, stop! What are you doing?”“Keep your filthy hands off him!” Quanzi shouts, struggling against Ah Jun’s surprisingly strong grip. “Fucking pervert!”“Quanzi.” Ah Jun lets go of him so suddenly he staggers, and has to catch himself with a hand to the pavement. When he lurches upright again, Ah Jun is staring at him in horror. Like he’s the one who called him Junzi and touched his cheek and looked at him like he was a piece of meat on the butcher’s slab. “Quanzi, stop, what are you doing?”“He’s fucking slime,” Quanzi snarls. Spittle wets the corners of his mouth, and he spits his rage onto the sidewalk.With great effort, looking as if someone stabbed him instead of just clocking him in the jaw, the professor straightens and dabs his mouth with the ever-present handkerchief. His glasses are askew, and it gives Quanzi a rush of furious delight to see him looking so ruffled. The handkerchief comes away spotted with blood.“I think you should leave,” the professor says thinly. He makes no effort to retaliate. Just stands there, scarecrow-like, his face bright pink and starting to bruise where Quanzi’s knuckles made contact.“I’m not going anywhere,” Quanzi snaps. But Ah Jun is drifting away from him, placing his feet carefully to put himself between Quanzi and the professor, and everything about this is wrong. “Jun, stop it. You can’t trust him. He’s a snake.”“He’s my friend,” Ah Jun says shakily. He lifts his chin like a proud little prince, fists clenched tightly at his sides. “I thought you were, too.”Quanzi stares at him. He doesn’t understand. How could Ah Jun not see this man was using him? Looking at him like he was a thing, an object to be possessed. He thinks of Ah Jun being coddled and wooed, treated like a girl, sat on his professor’s lap like a little doll. He wants to vomit.“Fine,” he chokes. “Go on, then. Eat out of his hand like a fucking dog. If that’s what your friends are like, I don’t want to be one.”Ah Jun looks at him like he’s been struck, but he doesn’t say anything. Quanzi waits a beat or two, hoping. Hoping. Please, let him take it back. But he stays silent, lips pressed into a thin line, his professor a lean shadow behind him like a specter. Shaking and sick to his stomach, Quanzi turns on his heel and walks away.The ride home feels interminable. He stares out the window without really seeing. The whole city is damp and grey and bleak, passing by in a featureless blur. He only gets off at his stop by force of habit, muscle memory stirring his frozen joints into action.He staggers out onto the street like a drunk and lists his way home. The lock fights with his key, gripped in his shaking, numb hands like a sword he doesn’t know how to wield, and when he finally gets inside he throws the damn thing across the room with a shout. It clangs against the wall and drops out of sight.The books he’d bought today are still on the table. He’d got them from a small shop that had opened recently a few blocks away—the proprietor was old and wrinkled up like a prune, but still moved in a spritely way about the shop, chattering away as he pulled books down from shelves and fumbled good-naturedly with the butcher’s paper. Quanzi had only meant to look in the window, but the fellow had poked his head out and invited him in with a strange, compelling friendliness that reminded him of—Quanzi slams his hand on the table and sweeps the package to the floor. The butcher’s paper rips a little but holds, and he lunges for it, tearing it open. The titles spill out across the table like a basket of bruised fruit. The shop had had a used section, a low shelf piled high with flaking pages and yellowed, well-used covers. Quanzi had felt some kinship with them, in the shop—abused, destitute things, but still worthwhile to the right buyer. Now he just looks at them and is ashamed of their shabbiness.He cracks open the topmost volume, its spine half-dissolved and crumbling. The characters blur together on the page.Quanzi is very tired all of a sudden. He wraps everything back up in the torn butcher paper as best he can—maybe the old fellow at the bookshop will let him return them tomorrow—and goes to hunt down the key. It takes him the better part of ten minutes, and by the time his fingers close around cool metal, his head is pounding and his cheeks are strangely wet.There is a strange, pent-up energy inside his body in spite of the way his spirit drags. He paces the small apartment, itching for something he can’t describe. Eventually he sponge-bathes just to rinse off the day’s sweat, and lies in bed in just his underpants with the covers flung about his feet.He can’t stop thinking about the professor. The way Ah Jun had greeted him so eagerly, had defended him without a second’s hesitation. Quanzi knows he didn’t imagine it. There was tenderness between them, at least on the professor’s side. And on Ah Jun’s, a kind of manic hero-worship. The way his voice had changed, going all soft and musical, still rang in Quanzi’s ears.His brain is twisting things up, and he can’t stop it. The professor with his dark, greedy eyes, grasping fingers around Ah Jun’s throat. Trailing his fingernails down Ah Jun’s chest. He isn’t wearing a shirt. Quanzi tries to clothe him, to preserve his modesty in front of the professor’s possessive, toothy smile—but then it’s Quanzi touching his chest, feeling the tender throb of blood in his neck. Ah Jun is small and quivering, helpless. Quanzi opens his mouth to swallow him whole.He jerks back to reality, gasping for air. His chest feels tight and strained, his heart beating frantically inside his chest, his dick hard in his shorts. When he swallows the saliva pooling beneath his tongue, it tastes vaguely bitter and metallic.Quanzi climbs out of bed on stiff legs and stands on a chair to crack open the rusty skylight. The air prickles against his skin. He stands there for a moment, just breathing—breathing in the city at night, the quiet, the cloaking dark. His forehead braces against the sill. His hand, trembling, rubs against his bare stomach, his hip. He can feel the flex and release of every breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale.
Exhale.
He staggers back to bed. Blanks out his mind, wipes it clean, like a page scrubbed clear of words. The mattress is damp with sweat as he kicks off his shorts and fists his cock, stomach tight like a drum, desperation clawing at his insides. He sobs aloud into the soupy air. He thinks, very determinedly, of nothing.He comes hard enough that blackness encroaches at the edges of his vision. Trembling, a little sick, he wipes himself off and turns over to put his face in the pillow. Maybe, if he’s very lucky, he’ll suffocate to death and none of it will matter in the morning.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Ah Jun is sitting on his stoop when Quanzi rides his rickety three-wheeler home after a long, wretched day at the market. He’d glowered so much that he only sold two items, and he couldn’t even bring himself to care. People were animals, petty and small-minded, and not worth his time. Money was useless, too—it flowed out just as quickly as it flowed in, like water through his fingers. If he just… stopped… no one would notice. No one would care. He could fade away into the peaceful oblivion of not-existence and just stay there, swaddled in the thick, grey cloak of detachment while the world passed him by, uncaring.But then he turns the corner and sees him. Crouched against the door like a tramp huddling out of the weather, or a grandfather squatting on his haunches while he gossips and shares smokes with his neighbor. He’s not smoking, though, just sitting there, chin tucked against his chest. Dragging patterns in the dirt with his fingers like a child.He doesn’t look up when Quanzi creaks into the yard. Doesn’t look up when Quanzi parks his three-wheeler and disembarks, stomping over to him, carried along by a strange blend of horror and curiosity. Horror that Ah Jun is here, daring to show his face, daring to breathe in Quanzi’s presence. Curiosity about the reason why. But he’s not going to ask. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction. Ah Jun picked that slimy, stringy good-for-nothing over Quanzi. Quanzi has nothing to say to him first.“You’re still angry with me,” Ah Jun says at last. He directs this statement at the ground. Quanzi snorts.“If you can’t even look at me when you’re talking, why did you come?”Ah Jun winces. He presses back on the door for leverage, standing up, and looks askance at Quanzi’s face. Whatever he finds there must not be encouraging, because he looks away again immediately. “I owe you an explanation. Could we… talk? Inside?”Quanzi shrugs as if it’s all the same to him.“You’ll have to move. So I can unlock the door.”Ah Jun shuffles obediently to the side and Quanzi pulls out his key, none the worse for having been thrown across the room the night before. Today, his hands don’t shake at all. He opens the door and walks inside, leaving it open behind him.It had rained again last night. He’d fallen asleep with the skylight cracked, so now the house feels damp and humid. He wipes a sheen of sweat from his brow and bangs around the kitchen out of habit, pouring them two cups of wine to take the edge off. He doesn’t invite Ah Jun to sit, but he does anyway. The chair gives a pained screech as he pulls it out and sits down, thin-faced, hands folded primly in front of him like a flimsy bastion against Quanzi’s ire.Quanzi sets the cups down a little harder than necessary and sits opposite him. The books from yesterday are still on the table, wrapped sloppily—he’d forgotten to return them.“So,” Ah Jun begins weakly. He reaches for the wine and takes a long draught, draining half the cup in one go. When he puts it back down on the table his cheeks are pink and he’s gnawing anxiously on his lip. “I’m sorry about—about last night. I didn’t think Wang Lei and his friends would still be looking out for me. I didn’t want you to get mixed up in that.”Quanzi grunts and jerks his chin across the table. “They the ones who beat you up, a few weeks ago?”“Yeah.” He winces, perhaps at the memory of it, and flexes one hand. The knuckles are still unblemished. Thanks to Quanzi. “I thought they’d given up.”Quanzi shrugs. “I would’ve scared ‘em off.” But they aren’t the ones he’s concerned about, not anymore. A couple of college punks are easy pickings. He understands them, how they think, how they act. He doesn’t understand the professor and his horrible, grasping eyes.Ah Jun rubs his thumb fitfully against the rim of his cup. He looks like he wants to drink more, but he’s restraining himself. If he does finish it off, Quanzi isn’t giving him a refill. This is the extent of his hospitality.“I took Professor Ke’s class a few semesters ago,” Ah Jun says. He speaks in fits and starts, like a train starting up its wheels on an icy, unforgiving track. Unrepentant, Quanzi stares him down. “He was brilliant. Not everyone is like that, up there. He spoke his mind to his students, really encouraged us to think critically about—about what was going on in politics, and in society. Sometimes I went to his office hours just to talk about things. He was good at… at drawing me out of my shell.”“I noticed,” Quanzi says grumpily. He buries his face in his little cup before Ah Jun can catch his eye.“He was kind to me when no one else was,” Ah Jun retorts. Quanzi’s silence seems to give him courage, and he drains the rest of his wine, sitting forward in his chair with his elbows sprawled across the table. “He helped me see myself in a new light—not ashamed, not hating myself, but accepting who I was. With him, I could be me.”Quanzi glares. “And who are you, then? If you’re so special.”Ah Jun swallows convulsively a few times. Then, instead of answering, he barrels on full speed ahead: “He was everything to me that year. I think—I think I sort of fell in love with him. And he was—he was so kind. He didn’t laugh at me, even though I was young and silly—”“Was,” Quanzi snorts under his breath. He’s finding it hard to think in a straight line. Ah Jun’s words aren’t making sense, but he keeps on talking anyway, a jumbled pile of syllables and strains that Quanzi can’t decipher.“Maybe I still am silly,” Ah Jun exclaims angrily, “but at least I know who I am! At least I’ve accepted that! Because I found someone, Quanzi. I found someone to teach me how to love myself, how to see who I really was and realize it wasn’t a sickness or a disease. That there are other people like me, like you, who can find each other and learn from each other and—and fall in love!”Quanzi stares at him. Flushed with anger and passion, eyes flashing behind the thick lenses of his glasses that swallow up his face like the eyes of an owl. For the first time since he saw him across the bar, lit up in red and shrouded in smoke, Ah Jun looks like a stranger.“You’re talking shit,” he says, pushing away from the table. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”“Yes you do,” Ah Jun insists. “You do, you just don’t want to hear it! You don’t want to admit that you’re different, like me, like Professor Ke—”“Don’t compare me to him,” Quanzi snarls. “I am nothing like him!”“I don’t understand why you hate him so much! You’ve only known him for a few minutes.” Desperate, Ah Jun levers himself up from the table and circles it even as Quanzi prowls toward him, keeping the table between them like a barricade. “If you would just give him a chance—”“He touched you!” Quanzi shouts. “He touched you, and he looked at you like you were a fucking piece of meat hanging on a hook! What do you see in him?”“I loved him.”Quanzi stops and stares. The table digs into his thigh, sharp and unrelenting. “What?”“Not anymore,” Ah Jun hastens to say, blushing deeply. “He… it’s not realistic. He’s much older than I am, has a different life. And I didn’t want to be his… toy. We fought about it,” he admits.But Quanzi’s head is still stuck on something else. “You loved him? I don’t understand.”Ah Jun looks unspeakably sad. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m—I don’t like girls. That way. I don’t want to marry one, and sleep with one, and give her children. I don’t want that life.”“What other life is there?” Quanzi asks blankly. He thinks of the girl Auntie Luo wants him to meet. The ticket-taker at the baths. He has no real interest in falling in love with her, but that doesn’t matter so much—all that matters is a wife, someone to come home to, someone to keep house while he works and keeps them fed. The prospect isn’t thrilling to him, but it’s comforting in the way that a gentle order from a parent is comforting. Being told what to do, not having to think about the future—those are enviable things. “Who will take care of you when you’re old, if you don’t have kids? Who will keep house?”“Quanzi…”“Don’t Quanzi me. You’re not making any sense.” He swallows, and swallows again. “Jun—there are—things that you, you think about sometimes, maybe, but they’re not real.” He’s shaking violently—he feels vaguely ill. Chilled, like the onset of fever. “They can’t be real.”Ah Jun’s brows are drawn taut, two little puckers over his glasses that Quanzi feels an inexplicable urge to smooth with his thumbs. “Why can’t they, Quanzi?”“Because—because they just can’t. It’s wrong. It’s—I’m not a good person, it’s no surprise—but you. I don’t understand why you—”He’s struggling to breathe, to put his words in the right order. Ah Jun is supposed to be good. Unsullied. Normal. Sailing by on his little skiff while Quanzi struggles with his oars and his heavy-bottomed rowboat. Perhaps their paths are crossing now, but it’s only temporary. Quanzi is destined to push his paddle endlessly against the silty river bottom, never gaining ground; Ah Jun sails on the wind, at the whims of the tide and the sky, free in a way that Quanzi never will be. Ah Jun isn’t supposed to be sick. “Quanzi,” Ah Jun begins, fumblingly.Quanzi’s fingers tearing at Ah Jun’s collar feels good. He bares his teeth and shakes him until his glasses come askew, until he can slam Ah Jun back against the wall and relish the satisfying crack of his skull against the wood. Detached, he watches as flecks of his own spittle glisten on Ah Jun’s cheek, on his trembling lower lip. Like a schoolboy about to cry.Quanzi is shouting something, but he can’t hear it for the roaring in his ears. It spews out of him like bile, like poison—it coats his tongue with black slick and drains the blood from Ah Jun’s face like a prowling vampire leeching the life from its victims, feasting on misery. Get out. Ah Jun’s mouth gapes, twists, and seals shut again, strained around the corners. White as a sheet, he struggles wordlessly out of Quanzi’s grip and fumbles for the door.“Get out,” Quanzi rasps. Reality is patching itself back in piece by piece, like a radio signal flaring in and out, a crackling jigsaw puzzle whose edges don’t quite match up. He lies, “I don’t ever want to see your face again.”“You’re wrong,” Ah Jun says. He stands his ground in the doorway, silhouetted against the empty yard, ready to flee. “You’re wrong, Quanzi, and you know it. There is nothing wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong with you.”Quanzi bites his lip so hard it bleeds bright copper into his mouth. For an instant, as he grabs for the front of Ah Jun’s shirt, he feels a split second of doubt. He imagines cradling his jaw instead, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear the way Professor Ke had done. He wonders whether Ah Jun would blush the way he had the night before.But reality sets back in, hard, and the moment is gone.“Get out of my house.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice. “I said get out.”Ah Jun gets. Quanzi slams the door behind him as hard as he can, forcing the bolt into place with an ungodly shriek, but even then he can hear Ah Jun’s echoing footsteps sticking like tar to the depths of his eardrums. Face screwed up, he hunches against the door and folds his head down, arms over his ears, trying to block out the sound. But he can still hear him, running.
There’s nothing wrong with you.
If only that were true.///Days blur together. Weeks lace themselves like shoes tied end to end, and Quanzi loses track of time. He works almost every day, even if it’s just a few hours in the evening; the rote repetition of it keeps him from swallowing his own tongue. He works, and he saves—he does a good trade for a couple thousand yuan worth of stylish shorts and flimsy gauze underthings, and he turns it over so quickly that the seller welcomes him back with open arms. The semi-regular influx of merchandise is good for him. He sits up late after market evenings with his ledger and inks out the numbers painstakingly. He’s holding steady.He works so much it’s easy to be too busy to go out. One day Auntie Luo stops him in the yard and mentions a skinny, oily-eyed man had dropped by asking after him, and had shifted as soon as he heard that Quanzi wouldn’t be back for hours. Cui, sniffing around an old connection. Quanzi thinks about him and feels nothing in particular. Not even pity.Brushes stops by his cart once or twice, complaining about his job, his girlfriend, the lack of excitement in his life. Quanzi doesn’t even try to mask his disgust for Brushes’ blatant sniffing and scrounging, and eventually he gives up.“Man, there’s something different about you,” he says on the last day. It’s a drizzly afternoon in late summer—the stifling heat isn’t cowed by the rain, and lurks instead beneath his tarp, soupy and conniving. Quanzi is sweating lightly, but Brushes has dark, ugly stains beneath his arms and around his collar, and there’s a nervous twitch around his occipital bone that prevents him from making direct eye contact. “You met a girl or something? Got you on the straight and narrow?”Quanzi shrugs. “Don’t need a girl to want to make money. Can’t keep my money if I’m always looking over my shoulder.”Brushes looks dubious at this, but makes no argument. When he leaves, slouching off into the sea of passersby, Quanzi feels a weight lift off his shoulders. Like cutting loose deadweight. There’s more of it, still, always more, feeding around his ankles like fishes in the sludge, gasping and gnawing for scraps of sustenance. But those nibbling bottom-feeders, in a way, are old friends. He knows his demons well, and he’s reluctant to let them all go. At least Brushes is no loss.He feels a twinge of guilt to think it out loud. It dogs his steps all the way home, and when he settles at his desk with cold soup and watered-down wine—he doesn’t trust himself with the full-strength stuff anymore—he rifles through his papers, through receipts and proofs of purchase to the letter he’s been putting off writing.
Hey Guangde,
it begins. A weak start. He pulls the sheet out and lays it flat on the desk on top of everything else, tapping the pen against his lower lip.
I found this book I think you’ll like. Got it at this place around the corner from me. Their used and trade-in stuff is really cheap, and the guy likes me, always gives me a discount. Don’t know why. Maybe because I don’t say much, just let him prattle on as long as he likes. He seems lonely. Old fellow, reminds me of Instructor Xiu except a few years older maybe.
Anyway. This book. In school they used to make us read these poems, right? I never really thought about what they were saying, just that I hated reciting. And my hand always cramped up copying lines. But now it’s different. This copy I picked up looks just like the one I used to have in school. Made me laugh for a second.
It’s strange to laugh—strange to make myself laugh, I guess. It’s a lonely world out here, Chaz. I don’t fucking know how much longer I can stand it.
He stops and looks at the page. That isn’t what he’d meant to say.
Remember that kid I told you about once. Turns out he was no good. Really disappointing. I thought maybe he was worth it, you know? Anyway you don’t have to keep the book. Give it away or burn it or smoke it—I don’t care. It was good for a laugh, anyway.
Say hi to Xiu for me. When you get out you better come see me. I’ll help you get back on your feet.
Li.
He reads it over, and blots out the part about being lonely. The truth is, he wasn’t lonely for a little while, and now it crushes him under its weight when before, he could bear up under it just enough to keep his head above water. But Guangde doesn’t need to know that.///In the early autumn, Quanzi is coming home with evening’s heavy shadow on his back when Auntie Luo flags him down from her doorway. Trapped in the fog of daily life, at first he doesn’t recognize the look in her eyes for what it is. He climbs off the three-wheeler and dusts off his hands, coming across the yard to meet her halfway.“Good afternoon,” he says politely, hoping whatever it is will be quick. He’s tired from the long day, aching in every bone and muscle. All he wants to do is lie down and smoke until he can’t see the ceiling for the fog.“Huiquan,” she says, and that’s how he knows it’s serious. His eyes snap to hers and see the reddened rims, puffy from crying, sees the tremble in her hands as she holds out a small package toward him. “A gentleman stopped by to see you. Called himself Instructor Xiu.” Her voice is flat with determination. Her hands, shaking like leaves, give her away. “He left this for you.”The package is very light, vaguely rectangular and badly wrapped in last week’s newspaper. The same newspaper they were given in the labor camp. There is no address, just the scribbled characters Li Huiquan written in a blank grey margin.Quanzi tears off the paper and nearly drops the contents to the ground. It’s the book he’d sent a month or so ago, the three hundred poems. Tucked inside the front cover are two piece of paper. The first, written in a neat, abrupt hand, the characters marching like soldiers in a straight line. It’s just a small note. Huiquan, I’m very sorry. He was writing this to you; I managed to smuggle it out. A last gift. Xiu. There’s a faint ringing in his ears. “What happened?” he asks dully. “Did he say?”“A fight,” Auntie Luo whispers. For lack of something to hold, she clasps her hands together in front of her, under her chin. “He went to see the family first. Said he was hoping to catch you—”Quanzi turns away and goes to hunker down by his front door. He fumbles with the book. Xiu’s note falls into the dust, but he lets it go, holding Guangde’s last letter to him close to his nose. His eyes are strangely cloudy.
Huiquan, there’s something different about you. Last time you write you said this kid was your only friend in the whole city. Now he’s dirt on your shoe. What am I to you? When it’s me who got you in here?
Don’t be angry with me. I’ve made a friend. You know how it was, when it was only me and you in here and against everyone else? Feeling like we were the only ones in the universe. I know you hated me then and I deserve it. You were sick. A head cold, I remember. I shouldn’t have made you come.
Zi Shan is my friend. My comrade. His first day here he helped me beat the shit out of some punks who were fucking around with me, and when we both got out of solitary we joined forces. Now no one bothers us. We work hard. He’s in for murder—in for a long time. He killed his brother-in-law for beating on his sister. The law says he does time for that, but what would a good man say? I’m not a good man, and even I know he was in the right.
It’s hard to take any of it seriously anymore. If you have to be put away for doing the right thing what the fuck am I doing here. But we work hard.
He thinks I have a chance to get out early. Not sure it’s worth it. What do I have outside of here? I don’t want to be your burden. My family will have nothing to do with me. And anyway, he’s in here. With me. I can’t remember the last time I woke up and didn’t wish I was dead but at least I have him.
The last few words trail off, jumbled together. Like he was writing in a hurry. Like he was trying to hide it from someone who came in suddenly. Xiu said he’d smuggled it out. Was it evidence? Would Quanzi get in trouble for having it?He rockets upright, stuffing the page into his shirt pocket. Then down again, scrambling in the dirt—he shreds Xiu’s note into pieces and lunges across the yard, the book of poetry burning a hole in his grasping palm. He bangs on Auntie Luo’s door.“Auntie! Auntie Luo, please. Do you know where he went?”She peers at him from around the door frame, suspicious and sympathetic. He wonders what picture he must make—wild-eyed, wild-haired, shirt coming open at the throat like a girl of loose morals. He doesn’t care. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe.“He said he was staying tonight in the city, going home tomorrow,” Auntie Luo tells him. Too slow for his liking, she holds up a finger. Says, “I’ll write down the name of the place. Just wait outside.”Quanzi feels like he’s vibrating out of his skin. As soon as Auntie Luo passes him the little scrap of paper he takes off, hopping onto his bike and pedaling down Spirit Run Street as fast as his feet will take him. The paper flutters in his grip around the handlebar. He reads it quickly—the characters blur together, wind stinging in his eyes, but he knows the place. A cheap roadhouse not too far away. He puts the paper between his teeth, just in case, and rides until his lungs burn and his face is numb with cold.
When did it get so cold?
The place is locked up for the night when he arrives, but there’s a light on inside and he rattles the gate until the proprietor comes out, cursing him under his breath. “Please,” Quanzi breathes, running ragged over the withered man’s protests. “Please, my friend—I need to see him. Mr. Xiu. It’s urgent, sir, I beg you.”His chest gapes with the fear of rejection, but there must be something worthy of empathy in his voice. The uncle squints at him, nods, and moves to unlatch the gate.“Second floor, third room on the left. Go quietly!” he snaps when Quanzi rushes past him, quick enough that his feet fall over themselves before he even reaches the front door. “Decent people are abed at this hour.”Has it really gotten so late? It had hardly been sundown when he first reached home. With a shuddering heartbeat, he moves through the dusty hall, creaking up the stairs. It’s an old place, the windows all thrown open and unshuttered to admit the cool night air, but the house holds its heat like a greedy miser, the warmth of days of sunlight sitting rank beneath its floorboards.The second floor. The third door. Quanzi feels for his jacket with a shaking hand; the book is still there, the one he’d bought for Guangde months ago. Inside it, the letter. The scrap of paper with the hotel’s address flutters to the ground from numb fingers and he lifts a hand to knock.When Political Instructor Xiu opens the door, Quanzi almost doesn’t recognize him. He’s aged impossibly since they last saw each other: the day of Quanzi’s release. He adjusts his spectacles on his nose and peers through them. A wayward tuft of soot-grey hair licks up from the crown of his balding head. He looks so frail. Then a smile cracks his weathered face, and Quanzi knows him.“Li Huiquan! Young man, how good to see you. How good to see you.” He takes Quanzi’s cold hand in his and pats the back of it. “Come in, come in. I fear you caught me as I was preparing for bed, I’m not at all presentable—”“I’m sorry for intruding, Master Xiu,” Quanzi says humbly. The urgency has fled, leaving him tremulous and hollow. He sits gingerly on the edge of the only chair in the room, at Xiu’s insistence—the older man straightens his shirtsleeves and lowers himself to the mattress, thin and covered in a roughspun grey wool blanket. “I didn’t want to let you leave tomorrow morning without—”The words get stuck in his throat. Mr. Xiu nods—more of a bow, dipping his chin to his sternum and letting out a heavy sigh. It takes him a while to lift it up again.“You received the letter, then.”“Yes, sir.”“And read it.”“... yes, sir.” Quanzi peers up at him from under his eyebrows. Mr. Xiu is watching him with a small, sad frown he doesn’t know how to interpret. “How did it happen, sir?”“A fight,” Xiu sighs through dry, withered lips. His voice is just as dry, like a leaf skittering across a lonely walkway in the final dregs of autumn. “I wasn’t there. I could not tell you why. The young man had been making progress. He was more lively in lessons. Volunteered to read aloud. I had not seen him so, since you got out.” He frowns at his own hands, thin and calloused and arthritic, clasped between his knees. “I was hoping, perhaps, that you…”Quanzi’s heart thuds against his ribs. “Sir?”“That you might know more.” He waves an easy hand when Quanzi only sits there, stump-like. “I’m not saying you’re connected, son. Of course not. But you were writing letters back and forth, and I thought, if you knew anything… if he was planning anything…”Quanzi swallows hard. “Did you read it, sir? The letter?” He doesn’t touch his breast pocket. Doesn’t want to give away, just yet, that he carries that incriminating letter on his person. Is it incriminating? Why would it be? Why wouldn’t he just keep it, if he thought…?“I didn’t.” Xiu won’t meet his eyes. “I thought it best—the correspondence was private.”Quanzi wants to laugh in his face, but his respect for the older man prevents him. Every letter that passes those gates is read. It stands to reason that this one would be too, even if it was carried past the walls and into the world hidden in a man’s breast pocket.The weight of his jacket seems to drag at him. He fumbles inside it and pulls out his cigarettes. “Smoke?”Xiu jerks his head. “Outside.”The proprietor gives them a dirty look, but says nothing. They stand in the street and share Quanzi’s lighter when Xiu fails to produce one of his own. The smoke helps calm Quaniz’s racing heart, but his mind still pinwheels on ahead, unchecked, determined to thwart his clumsy tongue. “He said he made a friend.”“Zi Shan,” Xiu confirms. His voice crackles in the smoke like tinder crumpling before the flame. “Surprising. Never thought of Guangde as the gentle sort.”Quanzi swallows. “Me either.”They smoke in silence, shoulder to shoulder, and then Quanzi flicks the smoldering filter to the ground, Instructor Xiu sighs heavily and claps him on the shoulder. “Well, well. And how are you doing, Huiquan? Making a good life?”“I’m doing okay, sir. Staying out of trouble.”“Good. That’s good to hear. Got a girlfriend? Courting somebody?”Quanzi’s ears flame hot and he ducks his chin into his collar. “Not yet, sir. My landlady is keeping an eye out for me.” Ah Jun’s name trembles on his lips and dies there, like a bug pinned beneath a heavy, unforgiving hand. His throat burns with guilt.“That’s good. Make friends, keep your nose clean, get yourself a little wife. Forget about Guangde. You’ll do just fine.”“Thanks,” Quanzi blurts, a little too loudly. There’s a strange urgency bubbling in his veins, like there’s something he has to do. Something important. Only he doesn’t know what it is. “Thanks for the chat, Mr. Xiu. And the smoke.”“Oh, no, thank you. Probably shouldn’t have—the missus’ll smell it on me a smile off.” Chortling good-naturedly, as if they hadn’t just been discussing the demise of Quanzi’s only remaining friend, Xiu shakes his hand and goes inside.Quanzi unhooks the bike from the fence and rides off into the night. But he doesn’t ride home. Instead his wheels take him, meanderingly, to the park, where the moon glimmers on the water and more than one illicit couple is taking their ease in the bushes. He skims past them to the water’s edge, on and on until all the murmuring voices die away and the city falls into the dark behind him like a great shroud.He gets off his bike and it clatters to the ground. The riverbank slopes sharply downward here, beckoning. His feet follow the grass until it turns to packed earth, and there he crouches, where the water laps quietly at the shore and he is alone, utterly, swallowed up by the night.No one knows where he is. No one would care if they did know. A little leaf sails past him, silvered by the moonlight. He imagines stepping in after it—letting the mud suck at his feet, letting the water slurp and swirl around his calves, his knees, his hips. He and Xiaofen learned to swim together, summers upon summers ago, but the memory feels faded, like an old photograph left to bleach in the sun. He could walk into the water until it closed over his head, float away… float into the ending of time. He could be free.Beneath the surface of the water, Guangde’s face swims into view. Quanzi’s heart seizes in his chest, and yet he’s strangely calm—his friend looks so peaceful. Blank and unconcerned, staring up at night sky without a single care reflected in his dark, puffy eyes. Quanzi longs to follow him.He blinks, and the vision disappears. Like bells tolling in the dark, he hears slapping footsteps, a ring of delighted laughter. Ah Jun’s arm through his. The book in his breast pocket weighs him down, dragging him closer to the water.“My friend is dead,” Quanzi says aloud. He pictures Ah Jun sitting next to him, squatting in the dirt, bespectacled and solemn. Ah Jun was always good at listening. “He was stupid. Sometimes I hated him. But it’s not fair—he was almost done. He was almost out, and who knows what he could have been? Maybe. Maybe he could have been better.”He sits by the water a long time. Until Au Ah Jun’s memory disappears, until his fingers and toes turn cold, until his butt feels like a flat bit of metal from sitting on the ground for so long. Then he stands up, stiff, every inch of him damp and vaguely crumpled, like corrugated cardboard left outside to sit overnight. He pulls the book out of his jacket, and the letter.
I can’t remember the last time I woke up and didn’t wish I was dead but at least I have him.
He opens his hand. The letter swirls forlornly into the water and is caught up in the current, deceptively swift beneath the gentle surface. It melts into the dark and reeds, and Quanzi turns away and gets on his bike and rides home.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
That weekend, for lack of something to do, he goes back to the nightclub. He feels awkward in a way he hasn’t since the first few weeks he spent here, skin too tight, clothes too loose, eyes crawling over his skin like flies on a bloated corpse. He has to fight his way through packed-in students just to get to the bar.Scraps of brightly-colored flyers pinned to the walls declare that this is Yaqiu’s last night performing—a dazzling farewell set is promised, but he can barely hear the music over the crush and grind of bodies. Some people are dancing in between the tables; others lean across booths and chairs and holler in one another’s ears. Near the stage, the crowd clusters even more thickly. Some people even stand on chairs to get a better view. Quanzi can’t even see the stage, but he finds he doesn’t really care. His fleeting obsession with Yaqiu’s downy upper lip has dwindled, and he feels nothing as he gathers his brandy and finds a place against the wall to lean, unobtrusive and jittery in his own skin.He’s not going to bother trying to fight his way through for a second drink, so he nurses his glass slowly. It doesn’t taste like much. He hasn’t really eaten anything all afternoon, though, and the alcohol eases its sinuous way into his veins, warming his cheeks and slowing the frantic tattoo of his heartbeat.He’s just starting to admit his own boredom to himself when he hears a flash of something familiar. His gut twists sharply in his chest before his brain has even made the connection. Then, there. Between the sweaty, swirling bodies. Like a mirage. Quanzi blinks away the fog of alcohol and watches Ah Jun’s supernova smile blur between shadows, like a flashbulb going off in the back of a dark closet. And he’s not alone. The professor is there, too, oily-sharp teeth lurking in the shadows.Utterly calm, Quanzi presses through the crowd. They part for him like sand, like spoiled tofu curdling in the sun. He is like a deep, dark, unconquerable river. He hides his currents deep beneath a placid face, reaches out. His fingers knot in a sticky, cheaply-made collar and tear.They get thrown out amidst jeers and laughter. Most of the patrons, halfway drunk, sloppy, stupid, turn their backs when the fun is over, leaving Quanzi to stagger to his feet unobserved. He stands, palms and knees stinging, and is met with a hard-knuckled slap that echoes in his skull like stones dropped down a well.“What the fuck,” he slurs, spitting blood onto the pavement. Ah Jun’s livid, live-wire figure stands like a mirage a few feet away, buzzing with anger. His collar is open, exposing a tender throat, flushed and gleaming with sweat. The professor is long gone. Quanzi rubs his bruised knuckles. The fucker had a hard jaw.“You have,” Ah Jun spits, “the gall to say that to me? What the fuck was that for? What the fuck was that for!” He wheels his arm around in an all-consuming gesture, taking in the bar, the empty street, the disinterested patrons clustered around the take-out window. They have turned their backs on this little tableau, and Quanzi, absurdly, is grateful to them.“Why are you still—still with him?” Quanzi chokes, trying to lower his voice. “He’s no good, Ah Jun, I told you that.”“Ha! As if you—of all people—had the right to care about that!” Ah Jun rubs his palm against his thigh, wincing, but it gives Quanzi no satisfaction. Still he causes him pain, even without laying a hand on him. “Why do you care who I spend time with? I’ve explained things to you the best that I can, and you’ve made it plain I’m not the kind of person you want to associate with.”Quanzi straightens, slowly, and takes stock. The professor had landed a few hits on him, all panicked, none of them particularly damaging. He pats his jacket and unearths a cigarette from an inner pocket. “Want one?”Ah Jun stares at him. “Seriously?”Quanzi flips the pack open and waves it at him. The one between his lips, even unlit, is already unspooling the knots in the back of his neck.After a minute, Ah Jun reluctantly plucks one from the bunch and stands still while Quanzi lights it for him before he lights his own. He takes an unpracticed breath and coughs smoke into the night air. “What do you want, Huiquan?” he says raggedly when he’s caught his breath again.The music and laughter pouring from the club grate on Quanzi’s ears. He takes a drag and gestures with the cigarette, trailing smoke like peacock’s plume. “Want to walk?”Ah Jun growls in frustration and hikes his collar up around his ears. The nights are getting cooler. “Fine.”It’s surreal to walk beside him again. Nostalgia colors the back of his tongue, ash and nicotine; he holds the filter between his lips but doesn’t inhale. Eventually, the cherry at the end winks out, stifled by the damp night air, and Quanzi doesn’t bother to relight it.“I got a letter,” he says at last. The street is dark and quiet. He feels like he’s walking into a tunnel with no light on the other side—swimming deeper and deeper into uncharted waters. It shouldn’t feel this good to walk next to someone who hates him. “My friend in—in the camp. We went in together. I’ve told you about him.”“I remember.” Ah Jun isn’t smoking either, but he’s listening. Intently. His eyes scan the pavement in front of his feet but his ear is turned toward Quanzi—his hair has been trimmed recently. It no longer flops boyishly over his forehead, but there’s still a gentle curl to the top bit, fluffy and frizzed like he walked out of the shower and forgot to comb it. At the nape of his neck, in the gap above his collar, the hair is short and fine, like silk. Quanzi imagines it would be prickly if he stroked his fingers against it.“He’s dead,” Quanzi says. His voice sounds like it belongs to someone else. “They killed him.”Ah Jun stops short in the middle of the street. Someone whizzes by on a bike, nearly clipping his ankle, and he doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t turn his head, not even to answer the dwindling curses hurled back by the cyclist.“Quanzi. I’m sorry.”He sounds as though he means it. Quanzi stares at the half-smoked cigarette in his hand. In a sudden fit of fury, he reels back and pitches it as far as he can. But it’s too light, too flimsy—his shoulder aches with the force of the throw, but it only sails limply through the air and bounces a few times before rolling to a half-hearted stop at the edge of the gutter.“Will you,” he says, and stops. He feels like a fool.“Will I what?”“I don’t—I shouldn’t ask. But I don’t know. Mr. Xiu wouldn’t, wouldn’t tell me—maybe he doesn’t know. But.” He tugs angrily at his hair, then plunges a hand into the inside pocket of his coat. It’s still here, folded up into a little square. He’s read it so many times the characters have begun to flake and crumble between the seams, like stitches pulled so tight the fabric puckers, unrecognizable. “Will you read it? Will you tell me if…”Ah Jun stares at him, wide-eyed behind his glasses. It’s the first time Quanzi has looked at him all night. There are shadows beneath his eyes that weren’t there before, and it frightens him. It frightens him to know that Ah Jun went so willingly, like a lamb. Quanzi remembers throwing him against the wall and burns with remorse. The professor had greedy hands, hungry eyes, but at least he never laid a hand on Ah Jun in anger.“Quanzi,” Ah Jun says gently. “Give me the letter.”He does it. His hands are shaking. “I don’t know—why,” he stammers. He can’t stop talking, even as Ah Jun crouches in the luminescent pool left by a streetlight, even as he holds the letter close to his nose to read the wobbling lines. “I don’t know why they, they beat him to death. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s been almost a year since I saw him, he’s like a stranger to me now.”A stranger, and a corpse. Quanzi sees him floating downriver, absolved by the cold, unfeeling waters, and shuts his eyes.Ah Jun folds the paper back up with care. Slips it into Quanzi’s hand. “What,” he says, infinitely quiet, infinitely soft, “are you asking me, Quanzi?”“Was he.” Quanzi chokes. He tastes blood in the back of his throat. “Was he like… you?”“A pervert?” Ah Jun asks bluntly. Quanzi flinches, face stinging like he’s been slapped. “I don’t know. I can’t tell you that from one letter, from one—one massacre. If he was, do you think he’s the first person to be murdered for it? Even if they hadn’t killed him, he would have been hung for it eventually. Or firing squad, maybe.” His voice is thin as a skein of ice, stretched thin over a roiling sea. “Which would you rather?”Quanzi can feel himself crumpling from the inside out, dissolving like wet paper. “I don’t—I don’t know.”“If he was,” Ah Jun presses, snarling, “it would be a relief to you, wouldn’t it? Because then it would be okay. Then he would have deserved it.”“Ah Jun—”“A man can sin a thousand times and still be pardoned, if he truly means to change his ways. A man can change his actions, Li Huiquan. But he cannot change who he is.” He reaches out and smacks Quanzi lightly on the chest, a little to the left. Quanzi’s heart seizes to a standstill. “That’s the rub. A man who’s a pervert, a man like me, does not choose that path—he only chooses whether or not to walk it. That’s the greatest sin of all to you, isn’t it? To listen to your heart. To be true to yourself, instead of that papier-mâché caricature other people see in you!”“Stop,” Quanzi whispers desperately. Ah Jun stands so closely he can see the toes of his shoes, plain and scuffed. A gentleman’s shoes, worn nearly to the point of splitting at the seams, but still stubbornly clinging together. He cannot look into his face. “I just want to know—”“You want to know!” Ah Jun shouts. His voice echoes shrilly against the buildings that line the street; by some miracle, no one emerges to hush them. “You want to know something I cannot tell you! And even if I did know, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t tell you, yes, yes he’s just like me, because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, giving you permission to hate the dead!”Quanzi gasps for air like a fish flopping on the shore. His head is throbbing; his heart, his lungs all seized up together by a merciless, unseen hand. “I don’t—I don’t believe that.”“Don’t believe what.”“Guangde was an idiot,” he says, fumbling at words like a drunk fumbling for his next bottle, “he was stupid, and he was violent sometimes, and he did, fuck, terrible things, but he didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t—he was just a kid. When they—he was doing better. Mr. Xiu said, said he was… better.”“What does better mean?” Ah Jun says flatly. Quanzi can’t bear to look at his face, but he doesn’t need to—his voice is enough to read the anger in him.Quanzi gestures helplessly. “You read the letter. He was… soft. Zi Shan, whoever he is, was good for him.” He takes a strangled breath. “He shouldn’t have died. For… for that. For any of it. Maybe he could have been something, made a life for himself, even a shitty, lonely life like mine, but it would have been something. And now. Well, I guess now it doesn’t matter anymore.”Ah Jun’s feet shift against the sidewalk. “Quanzi. Why did you attack Professor Ke?”Quanzi licks dry lips and longs for a cigarette. Instead he tightens his grip around the folded letter until his knuckles ache. “He doesn’t deserve your friendship.”“And you do?”Quanzi is silent.“You’re not wrong,” Ah Jun says at last. He sounds small and miserable, but still Quanzi doesn’t dare meet his eyes. “He likes to play around, but he’ll get bored quickly. Like he did before. But at least he doesn’t hit me.”The accusation burns in the pit of Quanzi’s stomach like acid. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Too little too late.“What?”“I’m sorry… for what I said. And for being…” He stares at his own fist, white-knuckled and trembling. Slowly he relaxes it. Puts the letter in his pocket. “Violent.”“It’s in your nature, I suppose.” Ah Jun’s voice is slick like new plastic, edged with mockery. “Like perversion is in mine.”“Stop… saying that.”“Saying what?”“You’re not—not a pervert,” Quanzi whispers.“Sorry?”“I said you’re not a pervert.” He looks up at Ah Jun then, finally, wide-eyed and frantic. The words drag out of him like gravel, scraping his throat raw, but they won’t stop coming. “You’re not, and I’ll fucking kill anyone who says otherwise. I’ll fucking kill him for putting his filthy hands on you—”“Do you hear yourself?” Ah Jun exclaims. He’s backing away, face a tangled web of worry, fists clenched in his jacket pockets like he’s ready to run. Ready to pull a knife. “I told you what I am, and you didn’t like it, and now all I want is for you to leave me alone—”“What if I’m,” Quanzi blurts, and stops, strangled. “What if I.”Ah Jun watches. Waits. A little woodland creature crouching in the grass. “What if you’re what.”“If—if Guangde was. Was that. Was…”“Gay?” Ah Jun says blithely. “That’s what the Westerners call it.”Quanzi’s eyes dart along the street. They are perfectly alone. “You said that I was like you. Like… him.”“It’s more common than you think. More common than they will ever admit.” Ah Jun’s lips form around the words with an angry pucker, like he’s tasted something sour. Quanzi isn’t sure who they are—isn’t sure even Ah Jun knows. Maybe it’s just… everyone. “They think they can kill us all off, eradicate us like poison from a wound. Pah!” He spits onto the ground. “I never asked for their approval. Or yours.” He stabs his cigarette at Quanzi like a blade. It’s still lit, somehow, even though he hasn’t been smoking it; it’s just wisping softly in the air, unattended. Slowly burning itself down to the dregs. Quanzi finds himself oddly unbothered by the loss. “I’m just trying to live.”Quanzi licks his lips again. Reflex. “So am I.”For the first time all night, Ah Jun’s tight-wound shoulders seem to relax. He drops his hand. Ash falters to the ground like dirty snow, and the cherry lets loose a few halfhearted sparks. “I am sorry about your friend,” he says quietly. “Whether or not he was…”“Yeah.”He had been filled with words, before, but now they’ve all dried up and disappeared. An oasis gone suddenly to desert. Out of habit, he plucks another cigarette from the roll and lights up. Ah Jun turns a little, so they’re shoulder to shoulder, and gets a few more puffs in before the cigarette butt scorches too close to his fingers and he has to throw it into the street with a little muffled yelp.Quanzi passes him his fresh one. With a muttered thanks, Ah Jun takes it. Wraps his lips around the filter and breathes.They stand like that for a few more minutes, passing the smoke back and forth. When it’s all used up, Quanzi grinds it beneath his heel and tucks his hands into his pockets. His fingers are strangely numb. “Sorry to bother you,” he mutters at the ground. “I won’t, anymore.”Ah Jun folds his arms over his chest. “Don’t beat me up anymore and maybe I won’t be so pissed off to see you.”“Right.” Was that a joke? Ah Jun isn’t laughing, so Quanzi doesn’t, either. Somehow the air between them feels a little lighter anyway. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”“You think they’re gonna let you back in at the club?” Ah Jun scoffs.Quanzi shrugs. His feet drag on, away from Ah Jun, toward home. “Guess I’ll wear a disguise next time. See if they recognize me.”Ah Jun snorts. He doesn’t say goodbye, but when Quanzi turns at the end of the street and looks back, he’s still there, leaning against the streetlight, watching him go.///The shop is dim and smells faintly of dust and incense. Of paper. Quanzi slopes through the narrow stacks to the back, where the free and reduced-price books are, picks up a few without looking at the titles, and moves to the checkout as quickly as he can.The proprietor knows him well by now. He gives a friendly smile and nestles his glasses closer to his face. “Quick trip today, Mr. Li. You must know what you’re looking for.”“Not really,” Quanzi says, startled into telling the truth. “I mean. I just wanted to pick up something light.”Mr. Guan stares over the rims of his glasses at the books sitting on his countertop. “Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Light indeed. An epic spanning many years… and let’s see. Ah, Mr. Cheng’s latest crime thriller. Didn’t you pick up a copy of that last week?”Quanzi’s cheeks burn. “I… I’d forgotten. I guess I thought I hadn’t picked it up after all.”That’s a lie. He’d read it the first day he bought it; fell asleep reading it, actually, and finished it the next day over breakfast. This one is a different edition, but even if it hadn’t been, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. He’d spent all of five seconds looking at the cover.“May I make a recommendation?” Mr. Guan asks politely, ignoring Quanzi’s paralysis. “I have a few in the back you might enjoy.”Quanzi nods dumbly, unsure what else to do, and waits as Mr. Guan potters around in the back room, leaning his hip up against the counter. Truthfully he’s desperate for reading material. The papers are so depressing lately; even the stories of thrilling crimes and gruesome accidents don’t hold their normal appeal. It’s all so futile. So relentlessly repetitive. The same shit every day, just different names attached.Books are easier. He struggled his way through the book of poems he’d bought for Guangde, mostly out of a sense of halfhearted respect for the dead. The struggle, mainly, was because he got bored. Everything was so flowery, layered in meanings he didn’t have time to decipher. Nor the inclination. And whenever he stumbled across one he’d shared with Ah Jun, the sour taste in the back of his mouth made him want to stop.He hasn’t seen him yet. Not that he’s been looking. Not necessarily. He’s been back to the club a few times since that night. No one has recognized him. Now that Yaqiu has moved on, he finds the place dull and lifeless, empty of all the patrons her sweet smile and artless, empathetic voice drew in. He sits in the corner, listening to whatever garbage they’ve put on to entice people to try their luck onstage, sipping brandy, determinedly not keeping an eye out for Ah Jun. At least it’s something to pass the time.Mr. Guan reemerges from the back with a spring in his step, curtain fluttering where it hangs halfway to the ground in a token attempt at privacy. Quanzi catches a glimpse of a desk piled high with unpacked boxes and the worn edge of a velvet settee before it drops back into place.“Now! These are a bit, shall we say, under the radar,” Mr. Guan says, voice going sleek with the thrill of a shared secret. His eyes gleam behind his glasses, and Quanzi looks away.“I’m not interested in putting down a load of money for a couple of old books,” he says sullenly. But the proprietor isn’t daunted.“No indeed! I’m not trying to make a sale, dear boy, just impart some good literature on an old friend!”Quanzi frowns. “I appreciate it, uncle, but you hardly know me.”“Don’t I?” Mr. Guan taps the bridge of his spectacles with a knowing smile. “You don’t remember me, perhaps. But I remember you. Little Li Huiquan, with the big, curious eyes! I came and taught literacy in the primary school you attended.” He smiles beatifically even as Quanzi struggles to recall his face. “Does my handsome visage spark a memory? No? Ah, no matter, no matter. It’s been quite some time, and you were only a slip of a boy, then.”Despite his reservations, Quanzi feels a smile tugging at his lips at the man’s irrepressible good humor. “All right then. What’ve you got?”“An old favorite. A few years old now, but only came over to the mainland recently.” He slides the book across the counter. It’s a hardcover, plain, the color of impure jade—an opaque green canvas that blurs the characters imprinted on the binding. Quanzi doesn’t bother trying to read them, just pulls out his wallet. He’s embarrassed by his own embarrassment, and by his lack of recognition—weeks of coming here, listening to the old man prattle, and he can’t even remember his face. He wonders if Xiaofen remembers him, and knows already that he’ll be too ashamed to ask her.He escapes into the lilac twilight with the bag swinging heavy from his wrist as he hops onto his bicycle. Mr. Guan had added Three Kingdoms at a reduced price, in spite of its size; Quanzi has fond thoughts of using it as a paperweight by the time he makes it back to Spirit Run Street. The bloody thing carved a neat red line into his wrist with the weight of it swinging back and forth, like an inescapable pendulum. Even so, he lines it up with care next to the rest of his growing collection. He’s pushed his desk against the wall to use as a kind of shelf, and there are flimsy, yellowed paperbacks and hardcovers with broken spines lining the back like mismatched teeth. He runs his finger along them, feeling oddly pleased. There’s dinner to be made, and the coal bin should be emptied, but instead he pulls out the jade-cover book and sits down to read.Ten minutes later he pushes away from the desk, heart pounding in his chest. He fumbles for the cord and turns off the light, then goes to the door, peering out the window. The yard is dark and deserted. Apart from a few lights on in the neighboring houses, the only illumination is the half-moon glimmering like an accusation in the night sky.He wants to hide. From what he isn’t sure. He wants to get on his bike and ride through the dark streets—ride to the bookshop and knock down the door, demand an explanation. He wants to ride to the park and plunge into the water and disappear.He wants to find Ah Jun. To take him by the shoulders and shake him—gentle, always gentle—and demand an explanation. Demand he tell him why.
Why do I feel this way? Why is this my fate?
His palms are sweaty and trembling. He rubs them on his thighs, paces about the room. That book… he glimpses it out of the corner of his eye, now closed. It’s the newest book he owns, in spite of its humble appearance, and the spine snapped it shut again when he abandoned it.Gay. That was the word Ah Jun had used. The broad, unflinching sound of it rings in his head as he pours himself a glass of water and gulps it down. How did the bookseller know? About him, about Ah Jun? Quanzi doesn’t think he’s ever mentioned Ah Jun to him before. How could he know?Quanzi goes back to stand by his desk, drawn in by a sick fascination. It doesn’t make sense to ride out now, to demand an explanation. Mr. Guan is surely asleep by now. Or perhaps having a smoke before bed. A smoke. Quanzi fumbles for the pack in his coat pocket and flicks his lighter to life with a trembling thumb. Two flicks, three, and the wheel spins enough to light the spark. He stands there, smoking determinedly and staring out the window at the empty yard, until his heart slows and he’s worked his way through two cigarettes. He lights the third, and picks up the book.He reads through the night, and falls asleep when day is beginning to creep its long, insistent fingers through the blinds. No one was has come for him. No police at his door, no mocking neighbors demanding he answer for his sins. His mouth is dry and ashy as he shuts the book and rolls over onto his stomach. His face is wet.Quanzi sleeps through the day and wakes well after suppertime, stiff and bleary-eyed. He feels… strange. In spite of the ache in his head, his chest is loose and bubbly, like he’s just had a glass of champagne. Despite the late hour, he rides his bike to the baths and then to a restaurant, where he sits alone and watches the ebb and flow of patrons all around him. He finds, to his surprise, that he doesn’t hate them as much as he would have yesterday.A part of him wants to return to the bookshop. For what, he isn’t sure. To say thank you? The lingering guilt warns him away, in the end, as does the gathering dark. It’s well past suppertime. And if, by some chance, the book recommendation was Mr. Guan’s way of testing him, he isn’t sure he wants to test positive.Positive for what? Ah Jun’s voice in his head demands to know. What are you admitting?“Nothing,” he mutters as he unchains his bike and swings astride it. A passing couple gives him a strange look, which he ignores, kicking off the ground and skimming easily into traffic. “I’m not admitting anything.”The nightclub isn’t busy. Yaqiu’s many admirers have gone seeking greener pastures, leaving behind a forlorn and empty stable, littered with the remnants of her last, glorious performance. Quanzi barely remembers it. He’d been too busy drinking. Too busy throwing punches. He remembers the crush, though, the sticky flood of bodies, and today he feels naked and exposed as he walks in the door to a sparse tableau. A few regulars, some sad sots with nowhere else to go. A few giggling college students in the back. Quanzi’s eyes slide over them, unseeing, and he goes to the bar for a brandy.There’s someone on stage, at least, to fill the lonely void. A young man Quanzi only half-recognizes, long-limbed, stroking his guitar like it’s his last meal on the bench. A pretty face—one of Yaqiu’s lackeys, no doubt—but his sorrow is manufactured and easily tuned out. Quanzi finds a table and reaches inside his coat and pulls out the book there.
When will the river no more flow？ When will my grief no more grow？
He frowns and flips the page. Sentimental twaddle.There are better ones further back. Ones about wandering the countryside on foot, of finding magical springs and divining secret futures. He wonders if he could find such a teller of tales, to tell him his fate. It seems so simple in the stories. Fortune-tellers are practically spilling out of people’s pockets in them. Awfully convenient.
While I live, shall I take your hand again Sighing that our years will soon be done?
Quanzi shuts his eyes, and the book. Blasted thing is determined to thwart him. He thinks again of the bookseller. He’d almost grown fond of him in the last few months since he started frequenting his shop. Inspired by Ah Jun, though he would never have admitted it to him. Something about the younger man’s taste for grandiosity and adventure had tugged at his heart. Made him want to partake of that same fount of inspiration.Well, he’d found it. For better or worse. And now he could never go back, not if he wanted to face Mr. Guan. Half of him was still convinced the man would have him clapped in irons the moment he showed his face again. And for what? he scoffs at himself. For buying a book?An incriminating book, in the wrong hands. The volume of poetry turns over in his hands, perfectly innocent. He probably looks a simpleton, sitting here in a bar with a child’s primer, of all things. He thinks of the main character in the other book. The crystal boy. Like something precious, or something easily shattered. Quanzi knows how it feels. To be always on the verge of breaking, always so dependent on someone else’s good opinion.
That there are other people like me, like you, who can find each other and learn from each other and—and fall in love!
He’s never considered such a thing before. Love. What an inconvenient notion. He doesn’t expect to fall in love with the woman he marries. If he ever does marry. At this rate, it seems unlikely. Auntie Luo has lost all hope in him, he’s sure. But what use is love, anyway? It doesn’t last. Doesn’t put food on the table or money in his pocket. He does all that for himself. What could the love of a woman bring him that he couldn’t earn with his own two hands? A tidier house? Perhaps. He could work harder at that. He should.Someone bumps into his table and mumbles an apology. Quanzi is determined to ignore them, too deeply entrenched in his own pitiful musings, but they don’t leave. They stand there, hips squarely in his line of view. After a drawn-out moment, he looks up.Ah Jun looks down at him from behind his glasses. His hair is styled today, swept artfully to one side, and he’s wearing a terrible sweater, made of knit triangles in all sorts of colors that clings to his waist and shoulders. He gives a tiny little smile.“You got in after all.”Quanzi blinks at him for a solid ten seconds before he makes the connection. “Yeah—yeah. Just walked right in. They didn’t even try to stop me.”“Their mistake.” He glances at the book on the table and then away again. “What’re you drinking?”“Brandy.”Ah Jun nods once, sharp and abrupt, and turns on his heel to glide between tables. The bartender greets him like a friendly acquaintance. Glances distrustfully over Ah Jun’s shoulder at Quanzi’s table.He comes back with two glasses of brandy. Quanzi’s still has a few sips left in it, but before he can knock them back, Ah Jun does it for him, setting the empty glass on the edge of the table with a grimace. Quanzi stares. “What was that for?”“Well, you weren’t in a hurry to finish it, were you? Stop complaining, I just bought you a drink.”“Right.” Quanzi watches him a moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But there is no other shoe. Ah Jun just picks up his own glass and sniffs at the rim, grimacing like a child with a cold being made to drink medicine. The way his nose wrinkles under the bridge of his glasses is unbearably appealing. Quanzi ducks his head and takes a sip of his refill.“Good reading?” Ah Jun asks after a bit.“Not bad. Bit flowery.”“They are that, sometimes.” Ah Jun smiles at him from over the rim of his glass and kicks Quanzi’s foot gently under the table. “Read me a good one? For old time’s sake.”Quanzi’s mouth feels numb, tongue clumsy, but he thumbs through the book until he finds one he remembers reading with him before. Something about a moon, and a lonely bed, and snow on the ground. The music fades into the background, and for a minute he forgets what it feels like to be afraid.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Ah Jun won’t leave him alone.Not that he wants to be left alone. He just doesn’t know whether to trust it or not—whether he can trust himself. Quanzi stands on the edge of a knife most days. Sometimes he’s happy, or at least fulfilled. Content. Other days he swings in the other direction, and he walks down to the park to sit by the water in the frosty autumn mornings, wishing he could swallow water until his lungs fill up and float away.But most days, he walks the line. The sharp knife-edge, balanced between buoyancy and the rocks always dragging at his feet. But he controls himself. This friendship, if that’s what it is, is fragile. Ah Jun is fragile. Quanzi refuses to be the one who breaks him.“Do you see him anymore?” he asks one day. They’re back at the karaoke bar—they seem to congregate there without ever agreeing on it beforehand. It’s too cold to sit outside but they are anyway, side by side on the bottom of the steps. Badly-sung music blares behind them; Ah Jun’s thigh is a line of heat pressed to Quanzi’s hip. He blows a stream of smoke into the air and clarifies, “The professor.”“If I said yes, would you deck me?” Ah Jun plucks the cigarette from his hand and takes a drag. Coughs. Drags again, and passes it back.“Maybe,” Quanzi lies. He wouldn’t. He’s made a promise to himself to never hit Ah Jun again, not even to grab him by the collar. And Ah Jun knows it.“You’re full of shit,” he laughs, voice ragged with smoke. Quanzi should stop encouraging that habit. He’s too young to sound like a forty-year-old man. “And I don’t, anyway. He moved to a different school.” Ah Jun squints out into the night, pulling his collar more snugly to his throat. “I stopped seeing him before then, though.”“Hmm.” Quanzi cups his hand around the end of the cigarette. It keeps flickering, threatening to go out. A few more hearty pulls and he stubs it out on the concrete before flicking it out into the empty street. “That’s good.”“Yes.” Ah Jun side-eyes him. “You really think that?”“‘Course. He was a jackass.”Ah Jun laughs. “Well, yes. Given how many times you punched him, I think it’s pretty obvious you think so. And I agree,” he adds hastily when Quanzi makes an irritable noise in his throat. “Can I help it if I’m vain? It’s nice to be flattered, sometimes. To be reminded you’re worth looking at.”“Hush up,” Quanzi grumbles. “You’re worse than Yaqiu. Fishing for compliments.”“Well, who else am I supposed to get them from?” Undaunted, he jabs Quanzi in the side with his sharp little elbow. “He thought you were my side piece, you know. Did I ever tell you?”“Who?” Quanzi asks, dumbfounded. He burns hot under his collar for no reason he can explain. “Ke?”“Yeah. You were so protective of me. So he thought…”Quanzi gnaws on his lower lip, thinking of that first night. He’d called the man a pervert, punched him hard enough to split the skin around his teeth. He had tried to tell himself it was because of the professor’s greedy eyes, the threat of roving hands. The way he twisted his voice around flattery, so that Ah Jun stumbled and smiled and felt wanted. Ah Jun didn’t deserve to be toyed with. Now he wonders if it was something a little more personal.“He doesn’t respect you,” Quanzi says at last, hollowly. There’s more beneath the skin of that sentiment, and they both know it.Ah Jun blows a thin stream of smoke into the air. “What if I don’t want to be respected?”“What?”“What is respect, anyway? What was it about him that bothered you so much? Really.”Quanzi shifts uncomfortably. “He… touched you.”“Well, yes. That’s the point.” He elbows him again, throwing in a saucy wink for good measure. “What do you think it means, being gay? I’m not interested in playing dress-up. Pretending to be someone’s wife.”Quanzi swallows. He’s hot under the collar and doesn’t really know why. You just don’t want to think about why, Ah Jun’s voice whispers slyly in his head. He coughs around the filter between his lips. “I know. I just. There’s something about him I don’t like. That’s all.”“You can ask me anything, you know. I won’t be offended.” He folds his arms on top of his knees, leaning forward with his chin jutting like a statue’s. “I mean. Try to be polite. But ask whatever you want.”“What makes you think I want to ask you anything?”Ah Jun snorts. “Just a feeling. You’re real quiet lately. Like there’s a lot going on in here,” he taps his own temple, “but none of it is coming out. I just want to help, Quanzi,” he adds, more gently than before.Quanzi swallows the tight sensation in his throat, but it doesn’t dissipate. “What… will you do?”“What do you mean?”“You said you don’t want to get married. What about—your parents? Who’ll keep house for you? Will you just… live alone your whole life? Pitied by your neighbors, gossipped about by coworkers?”“Well, probably! Gossip is inevitable. I can withstand it—I’ve weathered worse. As for the rest—I’ll keep house for my own damn self, I suppose. You do it, don’t you? You old bachelor.” He smiles good-naturedly to take the sting out of it. “And as long as I get a good job after school, my parents won’t care. They’ve got my sister. Already leading some politician’s son around on a string. They’re obsessed. It’s the only reason my dad’s not furious that I’m studying history and literature instead of… I don’t know. Law.” He wrinkles up his nose into a button, flicking his empty fingers like he’s flicking ash off into the street. Quanzi is reminded of his cigarette, which has been burning largely unattended between his lips. He taps the ash off and takes an absentminded drag.“Didn’t know you had a sister.”“Yeah… she annoys me. Older siblings.” He heaves a shrug. “You know.”Quanzi doesn’t know. Nor does he particularly care to, right now—this conversation is more interesting. “Have you had very many lovers?”Ah Jun chokes on a laugh. “Fuck! Cut right to the chase, why don’t you?”“You said—”“I know, I know. And I’m not offended, don’t—don’t pull away.” He grabs Quanzi solidly by the knee, yanking his thigh back into place against Ah Jun’s leg. Quanzi goes very still and doesn’t move away. “I’ve had… a few. Professor Ke was the first. After that, no one serious. It’s not… easy. It’s not like your auntie setting you up with some girl, and you go for a walk or go boating and pretend to have a meaningful conversation. It’s… a risk.” He stares unseeing into the dark, and his fingers tighten around his elbows like he’s shrugging off the cold. “It’s quick, usually. Better if you don’t know his name, or his face too well; better if you don’t kiss him.”“Why not?” Quanzi asks, feeling ignorant.“Well you don’t want to fall in love,” Ah Jun says, a bit manic. There’s a bitter edge to his voice that hurts Quanzi to hear, but he doesn’t know how to fix it, so he says nothing. “That would be a disaster. At least, that’s what some people think. It’s just a phase, isn’t it? A fling? A few years where you can get away with some crazy shit that you’ll forget once you graduate and get married and settle down.”Quanzi stares at the dwindling cherry at the end of his cigarette. “Well, what do you think, then? What would you do if you, if you… found someone?”“Someone?” Ah Jun echoes. He purses his lips in thought and digs his chin into the flat of his sternum. “Someone worth… staying with. I don’t know. I’ve—I’ve thought about it, daydreamed about it, but none of that is real.”“You said,” Quanzi murmurs, “why can’t it be real?”Ah Jun makes a soft, pained noise in his throat. “I did say that, didn’t I. Maybe… maybe I was trying to convince you. That I was right, that it was okay.”“Isn’t it?” He’s dumbfounded. “If you don’t really believe that, what the fuck was the point of all this? Of fighting, and—and me getting angry?”“You’re getting angry now,” Ah Jun observes, leaning just a little bit away.“Because you lied to me.”“I didn’t! I just. I thought that maybe…”“That maybe what.”Ah Jun stares at the ground. “That maybe you were like me. That maybe we could be… more than just friends.”Quanzi’s belly sours with nerves and he clasps his sweaty hands together to keep them from shaking. It’s not a surprise to him, not really. But Ah Jun has never been so obvious before. “You wanted to seduce me. That’s why you came to my house, the next day.”“I don’t know if seduce is the right word,” Ah Jun says uncomfortably. “I wanted to test the waters, I guess. I guess I thought that maybe you were jealous of him, and that’s why you attacked him. But then.”But then Quanzi had gone and ruined everything.The silence stretches out like bones on the torture rack, painful and relentless. Quanzi finishes his cigarette. Words weigh on his shoulders, heavy words, grinding into the back of his neck, but when he opens his mouth the only thing that comes out is smoke.“I figure,” Ah Jun says after a while, sounding strained, “you probably half-hate me right now anyway. So the worst that can happen is, we stop being friends. I stop coming to the nightclub. I was going to anyway, now that Yaqiu’s gone. The only thing keeping me around was you. But if you don’t want—if it scares you too much, I’ll stop. And there’s nothing else to lose, really. For me.”Quanzi swallows around nothing. “Doesn’t it scare you?”Silence. Ah Jun rubs the back of his neck. “Like fuck.”Somehow, that makes him feel a little better. He pulls out another cigarette.//
Ah Jun,
It’s me. I hope it’s okay to write you like this—I never have before, except for in my head sometimes. It’s stupid, but I missed your voice when we weren’t speaking. Sometimes I imagined you in my head, yelling at me about this or that, laughing at my jokes. That’s pathetic, but it’s the truth. And I’m going to try to be truthful.
I still don’t really know what to think about everything. Sometimes I think it doesn’t matter, that I miss your friendship and that I would rather have that than anything else in the world. Sometimes I hate it. Hate you. It’s like a nervous fit—it comes on quickly, and grabs me so tight I can’t breathe. But it passes. It always passes. And when it’s over I feel so guilty for thinking those things that I make myself miserable. I need to fix myself, but I don’t know how. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to make it right.
I wish I could tell you to stay away from me, but I can’t. And something tells me that even if I did, you wouldn’t. You would laugh at me, and come back the next day, demanding that I entertain you. Why do I find that so endearing?
I don’t really know what I’m trying to say. Just that I’m still thinking about things, but I want to be your friend, if you’ll have me. And after all is said and done, I don’t think you’re a pervert. That I’m certain of.
As for me, well. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I’m not a nice person, I told you that already. If I was nice, I wouldn’t have ended up in the camp. I’m used to being looked down on, and I’m used to not liking who I am, or who people think I should be. I’m used to not liking anyone. I don’t know what to do with all of this but I’m hoping you can help me figure it out.
I guess what I wanted to say is, I hope you still want to be friends. I hope that maybe you’re still willing to give me a chance. I hope you can be patient with me when I’m being an idiot. I don’t deserve it, but I still want it.
I don’t want anyone to see this letter except you so I’ll give it to you next time I see you and tell you to read it later. Now that you’ve read it, you can ignore it. You don’t have to respond. I just needed to tell you.
Quanzi
///The next time he sees Ah Jun is at the market. He’s packing up for the day, ignoring the stragglers sniffing around his stall—he’d done a good trade today, and he’s tired of making change—when he hears a familiar whistle and the skid of tires on the street. He turns and watches Ah Jun hop off his bike, teeth a blistering white in the evening gloam.“Hey,” Quanzi mumbles, ducking his head. He thinks of the letter tucked into his coat pocket, just in case, and feels a blush crawling beneath his collar.“Hey yourself. I caught you just in time. There’s a new place I want to take you for dinner. Nothing fancy.” He waves away Quanzi’s protests and tugs on the collar of his shirt. It’s true, he is dressed casually—jeans and sneakers and a red and white striped t-shirt tucked into the narrow waistband. Quanzi’s eyes skate over his slim hips and away. “If you’d rather not, that’s fine,” Ah Jun adds, his sunny smile faltering just a little.“Let me just take my stuff back home.”“Sure.”Ah Jun speeds ahead on his bicycle while Quanzi rides his three-wheeler home. He can hear him whistling even when he can’t pick him out through the traffic, and it makes him smile even as he curses himself for a fool. What is he thinking, giving Ah Jun the letter? It embarrasses him to remember what he wrote in it. Even if it’s true. The thought of Ah Jun reading it now is terrifying.You don’t have to give it to him, he reasons to himself. It’s just… insurance. It’ll be easier than telling him in person, at any rate. Quanzi doesn’t know how much longer he can go on like this. The two of them pushing and pulling, never giving ground or quarter, never quite sure where they stand. The ghosts of Quanzi’s rage discolor the water. Their friendship isn’t going to be the same if he doesn’t do something.He doesn’t remember much of dinner, though that might be because of the wine. It grows bitterly cold as soon as the sun disappears, but they sit near the door, sharing cigarettes and a bottle with their food. Ah Jun keeps kicking him under the table on accident. Eventually he stops apologizing.The alcohol makes it easier. He blurs a hand inside his coat, fumbling around until he finds the right pocket. The pocket he’d carried that book of poems in, for a while. It’s sitting on his desk at home now. The desk is like a shrine. He sits at it every morning before breakfast and reads something, thinking of Guangde. Of Ah Jun. His mother. It’s a soothing ritual, and he feels better, keeping the book there instead of carrying it around with him. It has become too precious to him to risk losing.“This is for you,” he says clumsily, tongue thick against his palate. He slides the folded page across the table. “Don’t open it!”Ah Jun freezes with his fingers scarcely curled around the edges of the paper. “Why not?”“Not until later. Read it at home. When I’m—when I’m gone.”“Gone?” Alarm colors his voice and glitters in his eyes like dew. “Where are you going?”“Nowhere! I’m just saying, don’t read it in front of me, okay? Fuck.” He puffs irritably on his cigarette and Ah Jun stares at him, uncomprehending. “It’s personal. Okay?”“Okay,” Ah Jun echoes. Some of his concern dwindles away and he leans back in his chair again, indolent. The letter gets shoved unceremoniously into his pocket, and Quanzi relaxes. “Want another?”He’s gesturing to the wine bottle. There’s another half a glass in there, probably. Quanzi reaches for it and tops them both off.“Why not.”They part ways afterward—a rambling walk for Quanzi, a bus for Ah Jun. Quanzi presses a lit cigarette into his hand to warm him for the journey, and Ah Jun’s answering smile is red-mouthed, delighted. Quanzi carries the memory of it in his mind as he watches his feet scuffling along the cold pavement. The wind bites at his ears and he tucks his chin more deeply into his collar. It doesn’t feel like it should be winter already.He’s not more than a block from the restaurant when something looms out of the corner of his eye. Two somethings, one on either side. They wear scarves over their lower faces in protection against the cold, but their gloves are fingerless, hands slapping jovially at his back.“Hey friend, need a hand?”“We can see you home. You look like you could use the help.”He knows that nasty tone. Under the fog of wine clinging in wet fronds to his skull, he feels a curl of adrenaline. They are the enemy.Even so, he doesn’t speak as they hustle him into an alley, as they pat him down harshly. He twists away from their grasping hands and gets thrown back against the wall. That he wasn’t expecting—his head cracks against brick and rings like a gong as their fingers dig his wallet out and flip through it. They make derisive noises that beat like soft moth’s wings against his face. Not as much as they were hoping for.“Get away,” he mumbles, slapping out with leaden fists. Some kind of animal instinct lands a fair hit against one set of teeth. They cut into his knuckles, but the other guy spits out blood. Quanzi laughs.“Drunken idiot.” There’s a flash of movement and quick, sharp feeling in his side. He leans hard against the wall.“Sharp fists,” he says dully. He sees a glint of metal in the night. They exchange quick looks, and by some silent communication that Quanzi can only guess at, nod in agreement and depart. He can hear their footsteps ringing long after they’ve gone.His wallet lies open and excavated on the ground between his feet. It feels anticlimactic. Quanzi blinks up at the sky. Limpid breaths puff into the air as he tries to think around the boulder of his inebriation. He should press on, get home. He’s got his keys, still. He should go home, get some rest, drink some water. He’ll feel more like himself in the morning.But there’s something that feels… wrong. The letter. He swallows a burble of panicked saliva. Oh, god. I gave him the letter. He needs to prevent him. He’s not ready. He’s not ready to admit everything yet. With renewed determination, he heaves himself away from the wall, holding his coat close around himself. He’s got enough change in his pockets for bus fare. He walks to the nearest station, every step heavy and resistant, like walking through sand. But the next bus isn’t due for half an hour, so he walks to the next. And the next.At the third stop, he arrives just in time; climbs on board; sits near the back with his coat pulled tight and his face hot and sweaty against the glass. He twists his fingers in his lap and counts the stops. By the end he’s the only one on the bus. It’s late. He doesn’t remember how late—the night blurs past his eyes without solidifying, without clarifying. Light drips and oozes down the glass like jelly. Like blood.He’s been to Ah Jun’s apartment a couple times. Once before their falling-out, and once after. He remembers the way well enough to navigate sober, but being drunk adds a new dimension, a fourth dimension that thwarts his sense of direction. By the time he finds it, he’s lost hope of catching him before he reads the letter. But he’s come this far. He might as well.He leans hard on the buzzer, harder on the wall. It’s cement beneath his cheek. Gritty, disinterested. He shuts his eyes and wonders if Ah Jun would mind if he just slept out here, embraced by the cold.“Quanzi? Quanzi!”Something is slapping his face. Gently, but still slapping, stinging his cheeks like little hailstones. Quanzi blinks his eyes open. “The fuck do you want?”“You collapsed on my front stoop!” Ah Jun exclaims. He’s white as a sheet, pupils dark and huge in his round face. As if the moon had sprouted eyes and lashes and thick, arching brows like two smears of ink on her pebbled surface. Quanzi’s eyes drift shut again and Ah Jun shakes him furiously by the collar. “Wake up! Don’t you know you’re bleeding?”“What?”“Yes! You’re bleeding, you idiot!” His voice is pulled so taut it seems to vibrate in Quanzi’s ear, high-pitched. “Get up, get up! Come upstairs.”Between them, they stagger up the two flights of stairs to Ah Jun’s tiny closet-sized apartment, but by the time they get there Quanzi is feeling distinctly faint. He allows Ah Jun to pry him out of his coat and shirt like a clam out of its shell, sinks to the mattress of his narrow bed without complaint. The sheets smell warm and musty, like they’re in need of a washing, but there’s something comforting about it all the same.“What happened?” Ah Jun asks quietly, prodding gently at his belly.Quanzi hisses. It hurts a little, but dully, like the beginning of a toothache. “The letter,” he croaks.“What?”“Did you read it?”Ah Jun rolls his eyes. “Yes I read it, but that hardly matters now, does it? You bled all over yourself. It doesn’t look deep though, thank goodness.” He gets up and rummages around while Quanzi drifts in and out on the tide of the wet-spotted ceiling. When he comes back, he has a wet cloth that he drags against his skin until the ache begins to turn into a burn. The adrenaline edge is wearing off.“Ow,” he says weakly.“Tsk. If you’d just gone home you could have done this yourself, you know. And now your shirt is ruined.”Quanzi can’t remember anymore why he was in such a hurry to get to Ah Jun. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” he says, pushing himself sluggishly to sitting. He touches the edges of the wound on his stomach and winces. It’s not bleeding anymore, but the edges are an angry red. Any deeper and he wonders if he would even be alive right now. The close, chill breath of death on the back of his neck is sobering.Ah Jun exhales heavily. When Quanzi looks at him, his brow is rumpled and his eyes are red-rimmed behind his glasses. “Don’t be stupid. I’m—I’m glad you did. Lie back down before you make it worse. I’m going to try and find something to close it up with.”The best he can do, in the end, is a clumsy row of bandaids along the split seam. He doesn’t have any shirts big enough for Quanzi’s bulk, so he wraps him in a blanket and makes him drink nearly a gallon of water, watching him do it with a hawk-like intensity that Quanzi finds unnerving.“You’ll sleep here,” Ah Jun says firmly. “The buses are done running by now anyway.”“I can’t—they took my wallet.”Ah Jun frowns. “How much was in it?”“Not a lot, but. I mean, I can’t pay you for—”“Pay me? What for? You’re my friend, Quanzi.” Ah Jun steers his skinny, restless legs in his direction, sits on the edge of the bed. The mattress is so firm that it barely sinks beneath his weight, but Quanzi feels the intimacy of it anyway, raw as the wound on his belly. Ah Jun rests a hand on Quanzi’s forehead and Quanzi shuts his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I help you, if I could?”“The letter…”“What about it? It was… so like you. Sweet. A little clumsy, maybe, but sincere. Look at me, Quanzi.”Ah Jun’s hand on his cheek is tender and soft. Quanzi opens his eyes. Behind his glasses, Ah Jun is smiling at him. Quanzi sighs. “It was stupid. I just…”“Did you not mean it?”“I said I was going to be truthful, and I was. I know I’m not a great poet—”“I don’t need poetry. Quanzi.” Ah Jun stares him down, fiercely. There’s a soft patina of sweat on his cheeks and brow, a little glimmer of damp on the determined pout of his lower lip. An ache swells in Quanzi’s gut that has nothing to do with the knife wound. “Thank you for writing it. I think you’re a good and loyal friend, and—and yes, there are things we haven’t really talked about yet, but there’s no rush. Okay? There’s no rush.” His thumb brushes hypnotizing circles on Quanzi’s cheek, right beneath his eye. “I forgive you. So go to sleep, and try not to die on me, all right?”Quanzi swallows, lips flickering into a half-hearted smile. Warmth spreads through his chest, and a strange, giddy feeling that he hasn’t felt since he was a little boy, walking home from school with Xiaofen’s small, sweaty hand in his. “All right,” he promises. Relief tingles in his fingertips, sharp and bittersweet, as Ah Jun smiles back.Sober now, but exhausted, he fades in and out, jerking awake now and again as Ah Jun moves around the room getting ready for bed. By the time Ah Jun crawls onto the mattress he feels like he’s dreaming. There’s barely enough room for two, even with Quanzi’s shoulder pressed to the wall, but Ah Jun curls up on his side like a child, hands curled beneath his chin and his knobbly knees pressing against Quanzi’s thigh. It should be awkward, but Quanzi is too tired to care. He finds the hard curve of one bony kneecap and rests his hand there.Ah Jun exhales soft and slow. When Quanzi times his breath to match, sleep comes easy.He wakes up much later, swathed in dark, confused. He isn’t home, and his stomach burns like fire. There’s someone nestled up against his side—for a split second his heart races wildly inside his chest, like it’s trying to break free, and then he remembers.He takes a deep breath and feels for the wound. It’s covered, but the skin around it burns to the touch. He isn’t feverish, though; just warm and sweaty from the stuffy room and Ah Jun’s sleep-hot body plastered to his own. As gently as he can, Quanzi rolls onto his good side, facing him. Without his glasses, Ah Jun looks younger. Softer. His brow is smooth, lower lip pushed out slightly in a little pout. Quanzi bites back a smile and studies him more closely, though it’s difficult in the dark. Better than focusing on the pain.He wore a thin ribbed tank and boxers to bed. His collarbones poke out sharply, like the apple of his throat, like his knobbly knees and sharp elbows. Ah Jun is all angles, and yet he’s still so soft. Soft-cheeked, eyelids like semi-transparent silk, his hair all soft and fluffy where it frizzes over his forehead and small, tidy ears. His throat is smooth and fragile, like his hands curled under his stubby chin.There is a distinct mole underneath his right ear. Quanzi can see it clearly even in the dark, a big brown spot that’s normally hidden by his shaggy hair, or by the extravagant pop of his collars. He licks his lips, fuzzy-headed. It’s such a tiny, extraneous detail, but so compelling—he wants to reach out and touch it. To kiss it.He startles himself with his own thoughts, jerking slightly. The mattress squeaks a complaint, and Ah Jun’s nose wrinkles slightly. Quanzi freezes.“Quan…?” He rubs one eye and peers at Quanzi blearily. “You okay?”“Stomach hurts a little,” he lies. It does, but to tell the truth he’s completely forgotten about it. His heart pounds again inside his chest, sonorous and slow. Like a drumbeat meant for war. But Quanzi doesn’t feel even the slightest bit like fighting. “Sorry to wake you.”“S’okay. Want anything? Water?” Ah Jun pushes himself up onto one elbow, right hand skating along Quanzi’s side to where the knife grazed him. “Is it bad? I can go next door and ask for something to help the pain?”“No!” Quanzi exclaims, louder than he meant to. He quails again—it’s surely not even dawn, and who knows how thin these walls are. Ah Jun’s eyes go wide. “No,” he says again, softer. “Sorry. It’s okay. I just want to lie here.”Ah Jun’s shoulders slacken, and his body curves back into the mattress, relaxed. “Okay.” He yawns against his wrist. “Can I do anything? Keep your mind off it?”A series of increasingly embarrassing images race across the back of Quanzi’s retinas, and he blinks them away rapidly. “You don’t have to,” he mumbles. He tucks his arm under his head and tries to ignore the insidious burn of Ah Jun’s fingers on his hip, just above his jeans. Such an innocent place, normally, but in the dark, both of them stripped of their day-to-day guises, the intimacy of it makes it difficult to breathe.“It’s kind of warm in here, isn’t it,” Ah Jun says huskily. “Let me open a window.”Quanzi watches him go with a dry mouth. Even without his glasses, he moves easily around the small flat, prying open the little window over the sink. A slip of cool air breathes into the apartment and Ah Jun scampers back to bed, skin pebbled with goosebumps and his nipples two sharp points beneath his thin shirt.“Better?”“Yeah.”Quanzi can’t stop staring at him. His chest feels heavy, weighed down with ballast like a ship riding low in the water. Ah Jun curls up against him without a moment’s hesitation. On instinct, Quanzi rubs his palm up his arm, chafing warmth back into him, and Ah Jun smiles, face blurred by the dark as he turns into the pillow. “You’re not too warm?”“This is—” His voice cracks. “This is good.”“Good.” Ah Jun’s voice is low and velvety, like the backs of his knuckles brushing Quanzi’s chest. He doesn’t pull away when Quanzi’s stroking hand slows, turns into something else. He’s holding on for dear life to Ah Jun’s arm, waiting for something. Waiting for the moment to snap. Waiting to wake up.The barest tip of a finger touches his chin. Quanzi tucks his face down and watches, paralyzed—terrified, desperate, aching—as Ah Jun leans up and presses their lips together.His heart restarts itself when they part. Quanzi gasps for breath and shivers, watches Ah Jun watch him, a careful, unmoving dance. Two nighttime-creatures pausing to face off, to wait for the other to react. Quanzi’s lips burn, and when he licks them he swears he can taste Ah Jun’s breath there.“Okay?” Ah Jun whispers. His eyes are huge and unprotected. Quanzi wants to kiss his eyelids, nuzzle against his lashes to feel their silken edges. Instead he stays put, trembling, and nods into the pillow.“I… think so.” He makes himself let go of Ah Jun’s arm. Traces a path instead to his shoulder, his neck, to rest his thumb against the beauty mark beneath his ear. Ah Jun shivers and tilts his jaw up. A silent invitation, but Quanzi doesn’t know how to answer it. “I’m tired,” he says nonsensically, withdrawing again.If Ah Jun is disappointed, he doesn’t show it. He smiles, baring the slightest sliver of teeth, and strokes the back of his hand to Quanzi’s cheek. “Okay. Go to sleep. I’ll protect you—you don’t have to be afraid.”“I’m not afraid,” Quanzi insists. He knows it’s a lie as soon as he says it, but Ah Jun only nods. He withdraws his hand, tucking it back beneath his chin, and Quanzi shuts his eyes. He isn’t tired, really, not enough to fall asleep—his heart is beating too quickly for that. But Ah Jun allows him the illusion. And eventually, just as early-morning sounds are beginning to filter in the cracked-open window, he does fall asleep after all.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It’s too fucking cold for this. Quanzi rubs his palms together and stares bleakly at the grey-white sky, folded over with clouds like a freshly-made bed. He doesn’t know why he agreed to this. He’s going to freeze his balls off.“Quanzi!”In the space of half a second, his mood lifts and his heart drums hard against his breastbone. Ah Jun is coming toward him across the park, bundled in a bright blue coat and his floppy hair poking out beneath a knit cap he bought from Quanzi’s stall last week. He hasn’t seen him since—something about final papers has Ah Jun working furiously all day and night, and he says he doesn’t want to bore Quanzi with his academic woes. Seeing him now, a bright slip of color against the frosty backdrop of North Sea Park in the autumn, feels like stepping into a warm room after spending the whole day out in the cold peddling coats and chunky scarves on the verge of unravelling. Quanzi is on the verge of unravelling. He checks himself from reaching out, stuffing his hands into his pockets instead and rocking back on his heels with a sheepish smile as Ah Jun draws close. “Thought you weren’t coming.”“Bus was slow. Sorry.” He doesn’t slow his tripping, tumbling momentum, just skids right into Quanzi and loops their arms together without a care. “Come on! You promised me boating as a reward!”“Did you really finish?” Quanzi asks dubiously, allowing himself to be dragged along. “I did. Handed it off and everything. Done, dusted, et cetera.” He twirls his free hand in the air for good measure and laughs when Quanzi huffs and rolls his eyes. “So gloomy! How are you feeling?”“Better.” He touches his side absently, but now, a few weeks after the incident, that slight brush produces no twinge of pain. In place of an open, puckered slash is a seam of new skin. Ah Jun had seen it himself a week ago, when he dropped by Quanzi’s place and demanded an update before disappearing again beneath a stack of textbooks. It had still been tender then, but now he barely feels it. Another week and he’ll forget it ever happened. “Good. I don’t want it splitting open while you’re rowing.”“You’d just have to patch me up again, I suppose,” Quanzi muses. “I hope you brought needle and thread.”“Don’t be gross,” Ah Jun chides, and then they’ve arrived at the dock. It’s the last weekend for rowboat rentals. Frankly Quanzi doesn’t know why they’re still open—apart from him and Ah Jun, there’s only one other couple floating on the lake, a pair of girls giggling and splashing their oars like a couple of fluffy cygnets flapping and bobbing uselessly in the cold water. Quanzi pays the fare and guides their own rowboat in the other direction, sticking close to the shore to avoid the brisk wind whipping up across the lake. In the safety of the island’s lee side, the White Pagoda piercing the sky like the point of a budding waterlily, it’s calm. Peaceful. Ah Jun lays back across the seats with his arms folded behind his head and kicks his feet up into Quanzi’s lap. Quanzi doesn’t shove him off. “What a beautiful day,” Ah Jun sighs. “It’s cold as fuck,” Quanzi refutes bluntly. He gets a cackle in response. “It is cold. Perhaps we should huddle close for warmth.”“Don’t be ridiculous.” Quanzi shoves him off when he sits up and huddles close, but gently. Ah Jun grins, rosy-cheeked. “We are out in the open, you know.”“Hmph.” Ah Jun props his head in his hands and regards the steel-grey water. “What if we weren’t?”Quanzi rubs his thumb absently over the pitted end of one of the oars. “What do you mean?”Ah Jun glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “If we weren’t in the open, would you mind if I sat closer?”Quanzi swallows. “I… s’pose not.”He’s getting used to Ah Jun’s propensity for touch. He’s always been a little more demonstrative than Quanzi, more comfortable with sitting close, with running into him and hooking arms, with shoving him around in a boyish, lighthearted way. Since that night in Ah Jun’s flat, though, things have… shifted. There’s a new spark of intent behind each brush of elbows, each fleeting smile. Ah Jun blushes more easily, and his glasses and his endless supply of long, bulky scarves do little to hide it. They’ve only kissed once more since then. Back at Spirit Run Street, when Ah Jun escorted him home to make sure he didn’t hurt himself the morning after his run-in with the petty thugs. He had darted in quick, self-conscious, brushing a kiss to the corner of Quanzi’s mouth before fleeing. Quanzi can tell he wants to, again. Ah Jun looks at him the way Quanzi has, historically, looked at women—with a deep, terrified intrigue, a disturbing fascination balanced with terror. Like he knows something about Quanzi that Quanzi doesn’t know about himself. “Do you want to go back?” Quanzi asks. The wind is picking up. They’ve only been out for fifteen minutes or so, but his fingers are stiff around the oars, and to be honest, he wouldn’t mind the chance to sit Ah Jun on his lap and read, or maybe share a bottle of something nice while they chase away the chill. “If you do.” Ah Jun glances at him, heavy-lidded. The pink in his cheeks isn’t entirely from the cold. Quanzi swallows and picks up the oars. ///Ah Jun follows him home like a stray dog, always straying just a little bit behind. For once, he is quiet. He swings his hands back and forth at his sides, bobbing nervously up and down, but he doesn’t whistle, even though his lips sometimes purse absently out of habit. Spirit Run Street is dark and deserted as they wind their way down it. Here and there, lights are on inside, or scattered laughter spills out into the brisk afternoon, but they meet no one on the way. Quanzi feels the wound-up spring in his shoulders go lax when he reaches the front door without interruption. Behind him, Ah Jun rocks on his tiptoes and subsides again. Quanzi holds the door open. “Come on, then.”He turns the light on and it buzzes to life overhead, flickering slightly before settling on a dim, amniotic glow. In its glare, Ah Jun looks pale and sickly. His eyes are like two dark moons as they dart here and there, animal eyes refracting the light into little crystalline droplets. His lips are pursed again, and pink. A faint shhhh of air escapes his teeth. Quanzi coughs. “Want… a drink of water?” he asks huskily. Ah Jun gives a jerky nod. His fingers curl uselessly at his sides, thumbs pressed to the outseam of his jeans. Those fucking high tops, Quanzi thinks resignedly, and he moves past him to reach the sink. A hand on his chest pulls him up short. Ah Jun is right there, suddenly, though he hardly moved at all, palm pressed flat to Quanzi’s shirt. His eyes are even wider than before, like he’s shocked by his own boldness. Then they grow heavy-lidded, limpid, and the spill of watery light across his cheek turns his lashes to spun silk. Ah Jun kisses him. There’s no avoiding it this time. Quanzi twists the words inside his head, trying to make sense of them, to make sense of this. But Ah Jun’s lips are on his, unequivocally. Ah Jun’s breath is warm on his upper lip. Ah Jun’s hand is on his chest, and Quanzi can feel his heart picking up speed as if it’s trying to press through his ribs to meet it. Jun drops back to his heels and Quanzi is reminded, very suddenly, how short he is. There isn’t a tremendous difference between them, just enough to make the space between their lips seem insurmountable. Ah Jun’s brow wrinkles up in confusion, and he takes his hand off Quanzi’s chest to touch his own lower lip. “Do you not like it?” Quanzi’s heart is pounding. “I. I like it,” he whispers. “Oh.” Ah Jun regards him warily. “Because you seemed like you wanted it, back there, and now…”In films, sometimes, the man will grab the woman by the arms and kiss her passionately. Quanzi’s fingers itch like they’ve been sprinkled with gunpowder. Before he can stop to consider it, he reaches out and takes hold of Ah Jun’s biceps roughly, dragging him close. Ah Jun goes stiff as a doll and turns his face away. “I’m,” Quanzi blurts, like a child who’s not quite sure what he’s done wrong, “I’m sorry, I—”“Please don’t hit me,” Ah Jun whispers. All of Quanzi’s turbulent thoughts dry up and disappear. “What?” He lets go of Ah Jun’s arm, and his palms feel too empty, too cold, so he rubs them on his flanks to warm them. Ah Jun is still staring at the ground. With slower movements, now, Quanzi reaches out and touches the smooth plane of his cheek, as lightly as he can. “I said I liked it, didn’t I?”Ah Jun huffs out a breath. He might be blushing, but it’s hard to tell—the fluorescent bulb smooths his features like a mask. “Right.”Quanzi is bad at this. It’s a crushing realization. All the daydreams he’s entertained, all the fantasies that have soaked his midnight consciousness, are worthless in the face of the real thing. But disappointment isn’t enough to make him take his hand away from Ah Jun’s cheek. It’s too soft. Leaning a few millimeters closer, he thinks he can smell him, still crisp and frost-bitten from their walk, from the lake. Ah Jun leans into his touch and Quanzi’s stomach swoops. Moving slowly, Ah Jun lifts his hand again and strokes the back of Quanzi’s knuckles lightly. Hand to hand to cheek, layered like a silk screen. His touch is warm and very gentle, subtly manipulating Quanzi’s hand until he’s cupping his cheek, cradling his jaw in the hollow of his palm. Ah Jun swallows, and Quanzi can feel it against the meat of his thumb. This time, Quanzi meets him halfway. He doesn’t dare breathe, not yet, but that will come later—he’s too busy thinking about how amazingly soft Ah Jun’s lips are. His own feel like sandpaper in comparison, but Ah Jun doesn’t seem to mind. He kisses him with certainty, without restraint—he’s energetic in this, like in everything he does, kissing quick and then slow, breaking the seal of their lips only to return again like he’s starving for it. I am starving, too, Quanzi thinks. We starve for one another. The realization drills a sharp hole in the pit of his stomach. He puts a hand to it to feel for blood, but there is nothing there but heat and the soft, fleshy belly he carries over his toughened bones. Ah Jun fumbles for his hand and holds it tight. Now both their hands are touching, and their feet fight for space in the same patch of floor. Quanzi grunts a little with surprise when Ah Jun wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close. The movement jars him, parts his lips on a soundless gasp, and Ah Jun licks lightly at the tip of his tongue. Quanzi jerks. Ah Jun’s mouth is very wet, and tastes sort of dully sweet, like the memory of candy. His heart thuds in his ears, and he feels a creeping heat tickle the back of his neck and burn in the tips of his ears. A wash of vertigo sweeps through him and fizzes out around the vicinity of his pelvis, and alarm follows on its heels. He’s never been hard in front of someone else before. Never been kissed, either, his brain reminds him unhelpfully. It seems absurd that just a little tongue, a little sucking lip, would be enough. But it is. Ah Jun’s heavy breathing, his stroking hand at the small of his back over his shirt, is better than a hundred pages of naked women parading in his mind’s eye. Quanzi doesn’t know what to do. “Mmhn.” Ah Jun answers the question for him by drawing away, eyes shut and a steady bloom on his cheeks that Quanzi can’t imagine away. His pulse leaps in his throat and Quanzi has the sudden urge to bite. “Maybe,” Ah Jun says, eyes flicking open, “you should turn the light off.”Quanzi breathes in, hard. It feels like the first breath after a long time underwater. “Oh,” he says blankly. Then panic shears through him and he jumps for the cord. The windows are closed and shuttered, but what if… what if…When he turns back around, still breathing hard, Ah Jun is sitting on the edge of his bed, a pale smudge against the darkness. Quanzi blinks, trying to adjust his eyes. Comes closer, step by agonizing step. His body clamors for something he isn’t really sure how to describe. Hiding under the covers with his hand under his shorts has never felt like this. “Is this all right?” Ah Jun asks softly. He sounds deadly serious even though he’s smiling. Quanzi nods. “C’mere, then. It’s fucking cold in here.”Quanzi privately disagrees. Maybe because he’s used to it—maybe because just one kiss (or three, or four… he’s lost count) has turned the temperature of his body up to approximately the level of the sun. He shrugs off his jacket on the way, toes off his shoes. Ah Jun’s smile grows wider, and he flops back onto the creaky mattress with his legs hanging off the bed. Quanzi tries not to look at his crotch. And fails. “Hey.” Ah Jun rubs his hand idly up and down his chest, his belly. Like scratching an itch. His shirt rumples with the movement, exposing a tiny sliver of skin at the waistband of his jeans. Quanzi’s knees forget how to stand. He hits the ground hard enough that it hurts, a little bit, but he welcomes the sharp clap of pain—it wakes him up a little, reminds him, fuck, this is real, this is really happening. His hands shake a little as he puts them on Ah Jun’s calves. “Quanzi.” Ah Jun’s eyes are huge behind his glasses. Then, very deliberately, he pushes them up by the thin wire bridge until they sit perched on his head like a strange hat. His face looks naked without them. Younger, somehow. Sweeter. His lips are plump with kisses. Quanzi’s kisses. For the first time, Quanzi feels something bordering on confidence. He is the one on his knees, but Ah Jun looks ready to break apart at the first touch. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits. It’s a lie—he knows what to do with a girl. But with a boy… he’s hardly let himself think it, aside from the last gasping, desperate moments before orgasm when his brain goes haywire and he can’t erase the thought of long, lean legs and strong shoulders, of a straight nose and a pair of glasses that throw the sun back into his face like a slap. Ah Jun sits up, cups his face in his hands. His thumbs find Quanzi’s ears and stroke the lobes. He has a look on his face that Quanzi can’t describe—soft mouth, eyes tight and fanned with lines carved in laughter, but he’s not laughing now. “It’s not difficult,” he says softly. The swirl of his thumbs is hypnotizing. “We can do whatever you like. Or we can just kiss some more.” Quanzi licks his lips. It doesn’t seem to do any good. Between his anxious, rasping breaths and his last cigarette, his mouth is as dry as a desert. “I do want to kiss you,” he whispers. He forces his hands to stop clinging to Ah Jun’s calves and moves them up his knees instead. Giddy, deafened by his own heartbeat in his ears, he watches his own hands rub back and forth on the tops of his thighs, watches as Ah Jun’s legs shift apart in welcome. “Hey,” Ah Jun says. He nudges Quanzi under the chin. “You don’t have to look so scared. I won’t bite. Unless you ask,” he amends, and bursts into startled laughter when Quanzi shoves him back. The laughter spurs Quanzi on, makes him momentarily fearless. He crawls up on the bed over Ah Jun and manhandles him until he’s sprawled out on the bed with his head near the pillows and his stupid high tops hanging off the end. “Take your shoes off,” he growls, and Ah Jun’s face flames pink.“Okay,” he murmurs, suddenly shy. He shifts, prying his shoes off with his toes—it’s a bit of a production, and Quanzi, knees to either side of his hips, can feel every movement, even propped up as he is. Underneath him, Ah Jun grins and bites his lower lip. “Better?”“Uh. Yeah.” Quanzi’s jeans are uncomfortably tight. He wants to reach down and adjust himself, but with Ah Jun’s eyes on him, it feels too raw, too intimate. Ah Jun licks his lips. “Is it okay if I take my shirt off?”Quanzi gulps. “Uh-huh.” He sits back a little, feeling awkward, then rolls to the side and sits next to him with one leg tucked beneath and the other hanging off the bed. As soon as he’s freed of Quanzi’s bulk, Ah Jun wriggles free of his shirt one sleeve at a time. He’s thin and rawboned underneath, graceless, godlike. Quanzi lifts a shaking hand, and dares not touch. Dares not desecrate this shrine. “Hey,” Ah Jun whispers. “You promised me more kisses.” Oh. Right. The idea seems vaguely blasphemous, for a multitude of reasons, but Quanzi doesn’t dare back out now. Chewing on his lower lip, longing for a smoke, he reaches out and lays his hand flat against Ah Jun’s spare belly. It flutters at his touch, and he gulps. Leans down. Ah Jun moans straight into his mouth, unfettered by shame or confusion. Quanzi, by contrast, feels hampered by his own insecurities, like the fingers of a hungry ghost are dragging at him, devious, riffling through his fleshly body for the pieces it wants to pluck out whole. But Ah Jun keeps the ghost at bay. With his mouth, first, and then his fingers, reaching up to tug gently at his ears, at the longish hair on top of his head. Quanzi huffs a breath out his nose and leans against him harder. “That’s it,” Ah Jun murmurs. The encouragement prickles under Quanzi’s skin like fire ants crawling in his clothes. He’s not sure whether he likes it or not. Somehow, Ah Jun senses his reticence, and he leans back against the pillow, away from Quanzi’s mouth. That is unacceptable. With a grunt, Quanzi shifts to lay against Ah Jun’s side, pinning him to the mattress with a hand on his chest. Ah Jun grins and lifts his arms. When they encircle Quanzi’s neck, they don’t feel like a collar or a shackle, but a gift. Quanzi lets the natural pressure of his embrace drag him down, like gravity slowed to an underwater freefall. Ah Jun’s lips are almost familiar to him, now. Quanzi pays entirely too much attention to the lower one in particular, lapping at its plumpness, tasting the places where Ah Jun has gnawed himself raw with nerves and lust. Ah Jun squirms in place at the soft, wet pressure on his tender mouth, whimpering, but he doesn’t let go. Doesn’t push him away. He pulls Quanzi closer instead, close enough that their chests push together and Quanzi can suddenly feel the thud of Ah Jun’s heartbeat in his own sternum. “Fuck,” Ah Jun says under his breath the moment Quanzi pulls away. His eyes, heavy-lidded, call out to him, coax him lower. Quanzi swallows and ducks down to press a stuttering kiss underneath his jaw. “Ah!”“Shh,” Quanzi mumbles. “Not so loud.”“Sorry. It’s just—your mouth.” Ah Jun traces the mouth in question with a forefinger, peeling Quanzi’s lower lip back like a rider inspecting a potential mount. When Quanzi grunts and bites down—gently—on the tip of his finger, he flushes red and his laughter is hoarse and grating in his chest. “Fuck,” he says again, softer now. Quanzi kisses the place he’s just bitten and props his chin on Ah Jun’s skinny chest. “Is that what you want?”“Ohhh. What a lovely image.” Ah Jun’s hips lift off the mattress a moment and his eyes glaze over, like he’s picturing it in his head. Quanzi flames hot, and his belly flips. Whatever Ah Jun sees in his mind, Quanzi is sure that it can’t be half so filthy as what’s in his own. “That would be… very nice. Yes. But…” He strokes through Quanzi’s hair again. “Is that what you want?”“Why are you so worried about me?” Quanzi snaps. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh—it’s not like he doesn’t appreciate what Ah Jun is trying to do. But he can’t stand to be coddled, and Ah Jun’s behavior is leaning dangerously in that direction. “I want it to be good for you,” Ah Jun says insistently. “If it’s awful, your first time, it’ll be my fault, and I’ll never live it down.”Quanzi huffs. “You keep asking me what I want, what I like. But I.” I don’t know, he thinks, but he’s too ashamed to voice it. “If I wanted it to be all about me I would kick you out and have a wank under the covers. Less mess. Less fussing.” He tweaks Ah Jun’s ear and grins at the resulting squawk of indignation. “All right, all right! I get it.” Ah Jun shoves at him playfully. Quanzi hardly budges. “No more directing.”“Good.”“Good.” Ah Jun stares at him a moment, and a thin smile curls his lips. He reaches up and tugs Quanzi’s hair. “C’mere, big guy,” he whispers. “Let’s make each other feel good.”Inside Quanzi, a hardened knot of guilt and self-loathing flakes away a little more, sloughing its thorny, calloused skin. It’s not healing, but it’s a shadow of it—a shadow of the vision Quanzi sometimes sees in Ah Jun’s eyes. That happiness he’s forgotten how to feel. Tentatively, he smiles back, and Ah Jun’s grin lifts up to meet him. They kiss now with open mouths and unfettered, roving hands. Ah Jun won’t stop wriggling—it takes Quanzi nearly five minutes to get his pants off, and then he stalls. Stares, even though Ah Jun clearly has no intention of taking his hands out of Quanzi’s hair.He’s squirrelly and slender and raw. Like an eel slipping through the water, bony, his flesh all slick and bare under Quanzi’s shaking hands. Ah Jun tips his head back into the pillow and laughs, and his throat bobs distractingly. He’s all over sweat, and Quanzi wants to lick him up, every inch of him. “You can,” Ah Jun breathes, “you can touch. If you want to. You don’t have to. Ah.” Quanzi heaves for breath, great gulping lungfuls of it. Why, then, is his chest still so tight? Like iron bands have closed around his ribs, ensnaring him. He paws at the waistband of Ah Jun’s drawers clumsily. “Junzi,” he says, squeezing it out of his pinhole throat, “Junzi. Don’t laugh.”“I’m not—I’m not,” Ah Jun lies. He’s giggling on every breath. He’s such a fucking child. “Oh, sweetness, don’t be sad. Don’t look at me with those eyes! Just…” Just. Quanzi grabs him by the hipbone hard enough to bruise. He’s never known how to be gentle. But Ah Jun doesn’t pull away—just breathes, and sighs, teeth bared. Knots his fingers in Quanzi’s hair and holds him close. Quanzi shakes and shakes. He feels like it’s their first kiss all over again, belly tying itself in knots. But Ah Jun guides him. Ah Jun always guides him. Fingers in his hair, one thumb pressed hard to his temple, tracing the shell of his ear. Quanzi blots his mouth against the sturdy meat of Ah Jun’s left pectoral and breathes. His nipple is dark and stiff a few millimeters away. Saliva comes up under his tongue at the taste—salty, a little bit acrid with the lingering memory of soap. “Mmh. Quanzi. Baby.” It should sound stupid, being called baby, but in the heat of the moment it only sounds natural. Ah Jun hooks one leg around Quanzi’s thickset waist and releases his hair to stretch his arm high over his head. His nipple stretches, elongates. Under his arm, a wisp of dark hair curls invitingly. “You wanna?” Ah Jun breathes. Quanzi’s mind goes blank, like a TV set on static. “I—do you—what? Do you?”Ah Jun grins, nibbles his lower lip with teeth that gleam too white. “Yeah,” he admits huskily. “Here. I’ll show you, if you want me to.”Quanzi nods, trembling. Ah Jun grips the nape of his neck, but gently, pressing him down and to the side. Quanzi moans softly as his nose meets warm, damp skin and the tickle of hair. His mouth drops open by default—it’s always open for Ah Jun, as if he could absorb him just by breathing him in, tasting his scent against his tongue. He rests his cheek against him and sniffs a little. He’s sweaty from the day, and from rolling around in bed with Quanzi, earth and salt and ripeness. Quanzi moans a little and Ah Jun presses his face in harder, forcing his lips flat against the coarse hair. Then he doesn’t need guidance at all. Ah Jun just strokes the back of his head and sighs, shifting restlessly on the spare mattress as Quanzi rubs his face in his underarm, letting his mouth gape slack. He drools a little bit when Ah Jun groans. Lets his tongue drag up. Salt and tang scrape his tongue, and he sucks in warm skin. He wants to devour him. “Ah! Ah, Quanzi, Quanzi…”“Shhhh.” In a fit of boldness, he pinches the fleshy part of Ah Jun’s chest, right over his left nipple. Ah Jun squeals like a stuck pig and jerks away, laughing. “I said shh, Junzi. The walls are thin, be a gentleman.”“I’m always a gentleman,” Ah Jun breathes through cherry-bitten lips. He scrapes his nails through the fine hair at the nape of Quanzi’s neck. “I can’t help it if you make a boy want to scream sometimes.”Quanzi’s face crumples up, and he buries his face in Ah Jun’s neck where he smells sharply of sweat and clean laundry. “Stop.”“Stop what?”Quanzi doesn’t know how to answer with words. Instead, he kisses him—his throat, his jaw, his ear. He gets a gentle tug on his own earlobe for his trouble, and he subsides into shyness again. Even so, his body is still eager. His shorts are distended when he looks down, and he can see that Ah Jun’s are, too, the paper-thin cotton marked with a dark spot of wetness. He looks so good without his shirt on. Quanzi wriggles closer, shoving one hand under his ribs to lay squashed between the mattress and Ah Jun’s sweaty back.“Kiss me some more,” Ah Jun murmurs. “I like the way you do it.”Quanzi’s face goes hot. Hotter. “You don’t have to tease.”“Who said I was teasing?” There’s a sharp tug on the hair on top of his head, and he’s forced to look into Ah Jun’s eyes. They’re dark and limpid in the moonlight, like deer’s eyes, or a demon’s. But if he’s here to devour Quanzi’s soul, Quanzi thinks he’d gladly let him. “Please, baby. Kiss me some more.”Quanzi’s eyes scrunch tight in a self-conscious smile. “Where?”“Ummm. Here.” He purses his lips in an exaggerated pout, then smacks them together. “And here, again.” His hand rubs over his own nipples, one at a time in slow, drunken circles. Then lower. Quanzi watches his fingers, spellbound, as they massage his belly, circle his navel, tease at the elastic of his shorts. They’re very short, red with white trim—or they were, once, but many washings and the faded luminescence of Beijing at night has turned them a pale washed-out pink. Quanzi holds his breath until his heartbeat pounds aggressive in his ears. Ah Jun is tugging on the fabric. He’s sliding his hand inside, just a little. Quanzi makes a small, desperate sound inside his throat. “Kiss me,” Ah Jun croons, “right here.” Watching him push the fabric of his shorts down, down, is a special kind of torture. He wants to look away, but he can’t. Ah Jun lifts his hips from the mattress and pushes his shorts down to expose his cock. Then further, down his strong, skinny thighs, until they’re trapped around his ankles and his knees splay wide and indolent on the worn-out sheets. Quanzi can’t breathe. His chest feels tighter than a drum, and he burns, he burns from the inside out. Ah Jun’s cock isn’t anything special, isn’t any larger or smaller than any other cock Quanzi has ever laid eyes on. But then, he’s never seen a cock like this before, except his own. Hard. Livid with veins and glistening at the tip. As he watches, eyes now adjusted to the watery half-light, another droplet wells up and drips, slow and sticky, onto Ah Jun’s flat belly. Ah Jun’s diaphragm quivers in response, and for an instant there’s a single gossamer-thin strand of fluid connecting one to the other. And then it snaps, and his cock bows up and back down again with the force of flexion in his hips. For a minute he tricks himself into calm. And then, sudden as a shout, he wants you to kiss him there. Quanzi’s eyes slam shut and he struggles for breath. “Hey. Hey, big guy, easy. Shhhh. You’re all right.” Ah Jun’s voice is still heavy with wanting, but his hands demand nothing as they stroke through the hair at his ears and temple. There’s a soft kiss to his forehead and Quanzi mewls. “I’m sorry…”“Shhh, shh, none of that. God, you’re a gentle thing.” Ah Jun kicks his shorts off entirely and curls up on his side. His pelvic region falls into shadow, and it helps, a little. “D’you know how handsome you are, like this? Fuck. I could just look at you all night. I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep and I’d be the happiest man alive.” He pets Quanzi’s hair a little more before he drops his hand to his arm. “You wanna take your shirt off?”Quanzi takes a deep breath. Nods. He sits up, scintillatingly conscious of Ah Jun’s dark eyes on him, and strips off his shirt. Then, before he can feel awkward, gentle hands guide him down to the mattress, onto his back. His belly swells and recedes with the heaving tides of his breath as Ah Jun strokes a gentling hand down his chest. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” Ah Jun whispers. Quanzi shuts his eyes. “Better keep your glasses off, then, four-eyes.”“Ha! Nice try. I can see in the dark.” “You’re full of shit,” Quanzi mumbles, but he squints his eyes open to watch as Ah Jun props himself up on one elbow and lowers his face. He kisses his chest, first. Just a little off-center. He hums and rubs his face there, against the soft flesh, and Quanzi’s skin prickles with heat. Ah Jun’s hand is warm and soft as he traces wide, sloppy circles on his belly, his hip. Quanzi can feel himself getting harder in his shorts. Impossibly hard. His thighs flex and his toes dig into the sheets as he huffs for breath and sweats from his palms, from the small of his back. “Fucking get on with it,” he growls. He thinks he’s going to explode with wanting, and he’s so heady with it, so out of his mind, that he doesn’t care about making a mess. Doesn’t care what kind of man it makes him. “All right.” Ah Jun’s grin is tinged with blue in the dark. He bends, presses that hard-edged smile to Quanzi’s shoulder hard enough that he can feel his teeth, and slides his palm flat across his belly with the other. Quanzi isn’t starving, hasn’t been starving for months. His stomach gives under the pressure, soft with excess, as Ah Jun knuckles his bellybutton and fingers the waistband of his shorts. Then his hand is on him. On his dick. Like it’s no big deal, like it belongs to him and not a whole other entity. Quanzi’s breath comes in short puffs. Ah Jun’s hand is slim and clever, always clever, always moving—his fingers mold to the shape of his dick under cotton, massaging, like he’s measuring the length and girth of him in the most intimate way possible. It feels like his guts are being pulled out of him through a straw. Then Ah Jun finds the wet spot and pinches there, lightly, with thumb and forefinger, and Quanzi shuts down. All his bones have dissolved, he thinks. They liquidated and were spat out through his dick. For a single, blissful moment, he floats, suspended in the hormone high like a sea creature cradled by the warm currents. Then he wakes up. He clutches the sheets and looks down at himself, burning with shame. Ah Jun’s hand still hovers by his belly, and past it, his shorts are soaked through with come. He can feel it, sticky and quickly cooling. As if to mock him, his dick twitches as it shrinks a little, blood flowing to other areas. He thinks he wants to throw up. “God,” Ah Jun is saying. His voice filters in slow, sort of dim like he’s speaking from behind a brick wall. “That was fucking hot.”“Get off,” Quanzi snaps, even though Ah Jun is barely touching him. His heat still permeates the bed. Quanzi feels like choking on it. “What?”“Don’t be fucking stupid!” he shouts. He scrambles away since Ah Jun is making no move to do so, curling awkwardly on his side like a half-shelled crab as he tries to reconcile the ignominy of his soiled shorts with the bafflement on Ah Jun’s face. “I said get away!” Ah Jun grabs for his arm and Quanzi shrugs him off, hard. “Quanzi! What are you—stop!”His fingers land on Quanzi’s shoulder, but this time Quanzi lays still, panting, like an injured predator saving its strength for a last-ditch escape. “Let go. Of me. Don’t make me hit you.”There’s a beat of terrible silence. Ah Jun doesn’t let go. “You’re not going to hit me,” he says finally. He sounds relaxed, like they’re having a picnic in the park instead of… whatever this is. “Fucking stupid,” Quanzi mutters again. But he stays where he is, hunched on his side, stomach clenching into an iron-hard knot as his dick softens and his shorts shift and cling wetly to his pubic hair. He swallows back saliva and longs for a cigarette. “See? I knew you wouldn’t.” Ah Jun doesn’t sound smug. Just… a little bit sad? “You wouldn’t hurt me.”Quanzi squeezes his eyes shut. To his horror, he feels the stabbing heat of tears welling up inside his skull. “Quanzi,” Ah Jun whispers. “Leave me alone. Please.”Ah Jun is quiet. Then he squeezes Quanzi’s shoulder and rises from the bed. He doesn’t stop to dress or adjust himself, just goes to the adjoining room. As soon as his footsteps have faded, Quanzi shoves his filthy shorts away and scrubs away the evidence until his skin is red and stinging and his cock has lost all memory of arousal. He hears nothing from the next room, but Ah Jun’s clothes are still strewn at the foot of the bed and his high tops are sitting on the floor like a neon accusation. Quanzi presses the heels of his palms into his eyes until the ache forces his stomach back down his throat to where it’s supposed to be. Moving like an old man, he pulls on clean shorts, jeans, a t-shirt that smells okay. He ducks his head to look in the mirror and almost recoils. His face is greasy and pinched, cheeks flushed, eyes puffy and bloodshot like he had too much to drink the night before. If this is what sex does to people, why do they have it? I look hideous! He rubs his face with the hem of his shirt and pushes away from the mirror, stomping in to the next room. He pulls up short. Ah Jun is sitting at his desk—his sanctuary—in nothing but a thick denim shirt Quanzi had left draped over the back of the chair at some point in the last week. It’s unbuttoned, flung open shamelessly. His tummy wrinkles as he bends over a book, and the light casts a narrow beam of luminescence down his cheek, his throat, his bare chest. Quanzi’s eyes follow that treacherous path. Ah Jun isn’t hard anymore, and he can’t see any evidence of him getting off. Quanzi drops his eyes. “Junzi.”Ah Jun startles and grabs at the plackets of his borrowed shirt. Then he seems to think better of it and lets them flop open again. He sprawls in the chair, legs parted, and peers through his glasses at Quanzi—the only thing he’d reclaimed in his flight from the bedroom. “You feeling okay?”Quanzi wants to hide his face, but he makes himself come further into the room. Ah Jun’s mouth is soft, brow furrowed like the scribbles Quanzi makes in his notebook when the words frustrate him. Like before, he is pulled to him, a fish on a line, and he sinks to his knees and puts his forehead on Ah Jun’s bare thigh. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. His tongue is heavy with guilt. He digs his fingernails into his palms and holds himself there, still as a statue. There are fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck. He swallows. “Quanzi,” Ah Jun says. Scritch, scritch go his fingernails against his scalp. The sensation feels like cold, ghostly fingers trailing down the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I shamed you. I was too eager. I wanted you too much.”Quanzi squeezes his eyes shut tighter. “I don’t understand.”“Don’t understand what, sweet?”Quanzi opens his mouth to answer and shuts it again. There are a lot of things he doesn’t understand, he realizes. Listing them would take hours. He doesn’t have hours. Soon, too soon, it will be daylight, and Ah Jun should leave before then—Auntie Luo has sharp eyes, and if she misses it, someone else will be sure to wag their tongue. “Quanzi…” Ah Jun drags out the last syllable, letting it buzz against his palate. He tugs at Quanzi’s ears, gently, until he looks up. Ah Jun’s thumb rests at the corner of one eye, against the moist skin. “You think too much, you know? You think and think, and you hardly say anything at all. You have to let it out sometimes, or it festers. No, listen to me,” he says, sharper than a knife. Quanzi’s voice dies in his throat. “I know, okay? I know what it’s like. You look at a girl and you think, I should be feeling something. Right? Everyone else is, why not me? Then you look at a guy and your palms get sweaty and you feel like you’re gonna throw up. That’s not how it’s supposed to be, right? That’s what they tell you?”Quanzi swallows down sand. “I don’t… I don’t know. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”“So? So is punching people. You’d do that all day if you could. Just drink and smoke and get into fights.” In spite of his lashing tongue, there’s a fond smile tickling the edges of his lips. He cups Quanzi’s chin, keeping him from looking away. “Three years in a labor camp, Quanzi. For what? Not for kissing a boy.”“It’s still illegal,” Quanzi says. He sits back on his heels. The movement pulls his chin from Ah Jun’s grip, but he leans in willingly enough when Ah Jun draws him down to lean against his thigh. “And even if it weren’t, even then… what about the law of the human heart?”All he can see is the floor. The spokes of the chair. He needs to sweep under the desk—there are too many dust bunnies. Ah Jun cards his hand through Quanzi’s hair. “It’s the only law I know. Flawed, maybe, but I would rather obey my own conscience than another man’s.”Quanzi had meant—what about the opinions of others? But Ah Jun’s words twist his thoughts, turn them on their head. Just like always. What about my conscience? He isn’t sure of the answer. “Isn’t your conscience…” he says slowly, “the product of other people? What they teach you about the world? What is right, and what is wrong?”Ah Jun makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “You never told me you were a philosopher.”“I’m not,” Quanzi snaps, but the irritation in his voice falls flat. “I’m just…” Just a man. A man with no family, no friends. No heritage. Just a sad story. The kind you tell to children so that they know what it looks like when you misbehave.
Look, there he goes. Poor Quanzi. Dumped in a ditch as a baby, and did he ever make anything of himself? Did he ever make good on his mother’s charity, his father’s hard work?
“Just,” Ah Jun says, tracing the shell of his ear. “Just Li Huiquan. Just a man. A man with a hard shell, but he is soft inside, like a tortoise.” He leans down and tucks his nose up against Quanzi’s hairline, holding him so he can’t pull away. Quanzi isn’t sure he wants to pull away, anymore. “You can’t hide from me,” he whispers. “I know your gentle secret.”“What,” Quanzi croaks. He is too wrung-out to be angry. He feels like a wet rag draped over Ah Jun’s knee. Ah Jun smiles, and the curve of it sticks to his sweaty forehead. Quanzi holds his breath. “I know,” Ah Jun sighs, “that you are my Quanzi. Gentle. Lonely. I want to make it so that you’re never lonely again.”Quanzi isn’t staring at the floor anymore. He isn’t staring at anything except the blackness of his eyelids. He can feel Ah Jun’s warm breath against his face, the tender clasp of his hand against his cheek, and it hurts. It hurts like nothing he’s ever felt before. Like a deep and ugly illness is being purged from his body, seeping out his pores, churning his intestines, clawing at his lungs as it heaves and chokes its way into the open air like bloody bile. He’s shivering, and he can’t stop. He might be weeping, but his eyes are clenched too tightly to tell. Wet and ragged, he breathes in. Out. Chokes on a sob, and breathes again. Everything is dark and cold except for Ah Jun’s skin, his breath. Everything is perfectly quiet. His chest loosens by degrees. One by one the iron bands release—they still sit hard up against his skin, implacable and greedy, but at least he can breathe. He slumps against Ah Jun’s thigh, now wet with his sweat and tears and snot, and wipes his nose. “I’m sorry.”The chair creaks as Ah Jun bends down and puts his forehead down on Quanzi’s shoulder like a sack of grain. Through bleary, tear-stained eyes Quanzi can make out the velvety stretch of his inner thigh, hairless, the dark mound of his softened prick. He tenses, expecting the stab of shame. But there is nothing. It’s only Ah Jun. Naked, yes, stripped to his most vulnerable parts, but not debased. Not filthy or crude. The foulness that people wear beneath their clothes has been peeled away in his mind’s eye, and behind is left a gentle spirit. Warm. Solid. Pure. Quanzi, for the first time in a long time, feels pure, too. “Come,” Ah Jun says softly. “It’s late. We should sleep.”Quanzi doesn’t have the energy to feel guilty for stealing Ah Jun’s fun. He lets himself be pulled, malleable, to bed, undressed like a child, the covers pulled up around his shoulders. Still naked but for his borrowed shirt, Ah Jun moves away. “Wait.”He stops. Perfectly still, framed on one side by a patch of smoke-blue moonlight, Ah Jun looks like a statue. Quanzi flips back the edge of the coverlet. “Stay.”Jun turns toward him. Quanzi can’t see his face. “You want me to?”“Yeah.”After a moment, Ah Jun gives a jerky nod. He finds his shorts in the dark and puts them on, then slides in beside him. Quanzi holds up his arm. With a little wriggle, Ah Jun fetches up against his side, head tucked down into the pillow. Quanzi’s arm drops. Somewhere, a cock crows. Quanzi shuts his eyes.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Quanzi knew he would be spending the New Year alone. He'd prepared for it. Ah Jun was staying with his family over the break and wouldn't be able to get away, so Quanzi made plans with Auntie Luo to have dinner with them and stay late into the night, blowing off firecrackers and drinking cheap wine until he forgot that there was a piece of him missing.The reality is a little bit lackluster. Xiaofen has brought her new baby, who is red-faced and puckered with irritation and always on the verge of crying. Auntie Luo is so busy fussing over her daughter and grandchild that she neglects her cooking; the meal itself is stilted and punctuated with the baby’s screams whenever it decides it isn’t happy. Halfway through Quanzi develops a splitting headache, and when Uncle Luo invites him and his son-in-law outside for a smoke to wait for the New Year’s arrival, he accepts with near-feverish relief.It’s already dark out. Here and there through the neighborhood they can hear the sounds of New Year merriment—children shouting and laughing, crackers going off, the pop and sizzle of cherry bombs being thrown to the ground by the handful. Quanzi’s overdone dinner sits heavily in his stomach as he smokes and listens to the conversation with half an ear. He wonders what Ah Jun is doing. Whether they’ve finished their meal yet; whether he’s helping his sister with the dishes like a good boy; whether they’ve gone out into the courtyard to set off fireworks of their own, far grander and more glittery than anyone in Spirit Run Street can afford.Quanzi realizes he’s gnawing on the filter of his cigarette more than he’s smoking it, and he pauses to exhale a slow grey plume into the frosty air. He should have packed his gloves.Uncle Luo bursts out laughing at something his son-in-law has said and Quanzi startles away like a deer shying from the light. He forces himself to straighten his shoulders and smile along with them, letting the glow of the cheroot warm his cupped hands. It’s bloody freezing out here, but the prospect of going back inside is daunting and horrible. He can hear the baby shrieking through the closed door and wonders if he can somehow slip away without the men noticing.As if summoned by his wayward thoughts, quick-crunching footsteps come echoing down the lane and then Ah Jun himself appears around the corner, red-faced and puffing white plumes of breath into the black night. Uncle Luo stops whatever he was saying as Ah Jun sees Quanzi—recognizes him—skids to a stammering halt and looks between the three of them, wild-eyed.His glasses are missing, Quanzi realizes. And he’s got a cut on his eyebrow. Something is terribly wrong. “Junzi?” he blurts, stepping forward a little away from the negligible shelter of the wall. His cigarette drops to the ground unnoticed, and fizzles out in the snow. “What’s wrong?”Ah Jun opens his mouth as if to say something, and his breath hitches in his barren mouth. After a moment he gets control of himself and gives a little bow. “Health and prosperity to you. I’m sorry to interrupt, don’t mind me—”“Please excuse us,” Quanzi says, talking right over him. Ah Jun must have biked here—there was no way the trams were running at this hour—and he was holding himself oddly, like the pain in his overused lungs was too much to let him stand upright. Quanzi scoops an arm around Ah Jun’s waist to help him, and Jun cringes away a little, wincing like a stray dog that’s been kicked one too many times. “Enjoy your firecrackers, Uncle Luo!” he called over his shoulder.It’s only a few more steps to Quanzi’s apartment. Ah Jun lets him support his weight after the initial flinch, and when they get inside he goes straight to the bed and collapses onto it face-first with a little cry.Quanzi shuts the door and locks it and stands there in the dark, heart beating fast. “What happened?”Slowly, very slowly, Ah Jun rolls onto his back and sits up. He doesn’t answer in words. Instead, he shrugs out of his coat with painful slowness and rolls up the hem of his nice Western-style blouse.Quanzi can’t stifle his gasp of horror in time. Ah Jun’s side is a mess of bruises, all fresh, all screaming in visceral, violent colors against the pallor of his skin. Quanzi goes to him, kneels at his feet, and Ah Jun drops his shirt again, his face drawn as tight as a bow.“Someone from the school found out about Professor Ke,” he says slowly. More quiet than a butterfly’s wing against a leaf. “They told my parents. They wanted them to know that they—that there was going to be retribution against him for, for abusing me.” His voice sounded strange and alien, like there was something trapped inside his throat. “My father, he… he took one look at me and he knew. He knew it hadn’t been all him. That it was my—my vanity, my deviancy that led to—”Quanzi stares at him. “You’ve been disowned?”“What other conclusion can I draw?” Ah Jun snapped, high-pitched. The string was pulling tighter—not a bowstring any longer, but a noose, strangling him, strangling them both. “He nearly beat the life out of me, I had to run, Quanzi, I had to—I ran all the way here from—I ran—”He bends in half like a broken reed, heedless of his injuries, and buries his face in Quanzi’s shoulder as he starts to shake. Hard. He shakes and shakes, like a windstorm rattles through him, and after a while Quanzi feels the hot bloom of tears soaking through his shirt. He wants to cry, too, from sheer empathy, but he can’t. The ache sticks in his craw like swallowed bones and his eyes feel dry as dust and he is useless, entirely useless. Just a slab of nothing for Ah Jun to weep against. He would be better served lying against a rock.“I’m sorry,” Ah Jun says after awhile, voice sticky and scratched like a busted record. He makes no move to sit up, so Quanzi doesn’t move either.“Why are you sorry?” Quanzi asks.“I don’t know.”Quanzi touches the back of his head, his nape, cupping it like a mother cradles a nursing babe. His hair is damp with sweat at the roots; he can feel Ah Jun’s heartbeat fluttering at the side of his throat. “It isn’t your fault,” he whispers. Anger fills him, keen and simmering, but he keeps the fires banked low. “It isn’t you. It isn’t you.”Ah Jun draws back a little. His face is red and puffy, lashes pulled into thin points like the rays of darkened stars. He wipes snot from his upper lip with the back of his wrist and cups Quanzi’s face, resting their foreheads together. He says, cracked and miserable, “I am lost without you.”Quanzi touches his chin and feels it tremble. When he kisses Ah Jun gently, so gently, it trembles even more; but Ah Jun kisses back wetly, breath hitching in his chest, and when Quanzi rolls him onto his back on the narrow mattress he clings to Quanzi’s jacket as if silently begging him not to leave.“I’m here,” Quanzi says. His heart races ahead of his sluggish brain and he moves on autopilot, shrugging off his coat, his shoes, doing the same for Ah Jun. In their shirts and trousers they lay grafted together like the roots of trees, bodies heaving in the gentle tide of breath. Ah Jun drops off to sleep in a matter of minutes, exhausted in every possible way, head pillowed on Quanzi’s chest. But Quanzi remains awake for a long time. He stares at the ceiling and fantasizes a hundred scenarios, a hundred ways to make Ah Jun’s father suffer. But in the end, when his bloodsoaked imagination has been exhausted, all he feels is the weight of sorrow. The weight of Ah Jun’s loss.Fireworks boom and clap overhead long into the night, and Quanzi hears them all. He only manages to fall asleep as the first rays of morning are filtering through the blinds, and even then his sleep is restless, punctuated with dreams of running down long, dark alleyways away from some terrible creature, and never finding succor.///It quickly becomes apparent that Ah Jun’s life has been cut off right on the cusp of blossoming. After a few days in hiding at Quanzi’s, healing from his cuts and bruises—Quanzi thinks he’s got a cracked rib, but Ah Jun refuses to get any kind of treatment—he returns to his tiny closet of an apartment to find it emptied. Security confiscates his keys and kicks him off the premises, and he is left with nothing but the clothes he had on his back on the New Year.A trip to his university yields similar results. The clothes, at least, are easy—Quanzi has plenty of merchandise and he would spare it all, cheap as it was, if Ah Jun would only let him—but the cool refusal of the admissions office to allow Ah Jun to finish his education is a harder blow. Ah Jun spends several long, drawn-out, static-filled days just lying in Quanzi’s bed, hardly eating, only staring at the ceiling, or sleeping. Or pretending to sleep.Quanzi is afraid to leave him alone—he catches him crying sometimes, silent and utterly wrecked—but Ah Jun scolds him for hanging around and so he goes, working a handful of scattered hours each day to bring in a little money. Every afternoon he rushes home again with his three-wheeler, half-afraid that he’ll return to some horrible scene. Or worse, to an empty house. But Ah Jun is always there waiting for him, a leaden lump beneath the thin covers. He regularly fails to keep the fire going, and Quanzi fears that one of these days he’ll return to a frozen corpse.A few weeks after the New Year, though, he comes home and the house is warm, the fire lit and crackling. The place had gotten a little dingy with neglect, but today it’s clean and sparkling, with hot cartons of soup steaming on the table; and, best of all, Ah Jun is out of bed, wearing clean clothes and reading a book at Quanzi’s desk as if he hadn’t a care in the world.Quanzi shuts the door behind him and stands very still, afraid of shattering the delicate illusion. But Ah Jun jumpd up, a brightness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, and comes straight to him, pulling Quanzi’s frozen hands free of his mittens and holding them to his chest.“What do you think?”Quanzi stalls. “What do I think of what?”“I’ve decided to stop mooching and make myself useful, like a proper housewife.” There’s a shadow behind his eyes and a bitter hint of sarcasm to his words, but he does seem genuinely more… alive than he has been lately. Quanzi scoffs and loops an arm around his waist, kissing him chastely.“I feel sorry for you, then. I’ll make a terrible husband.”“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Ah Jun’s eyes crinkle up in that way they do when he smiles with perfect sincerity, and Quanzi’s heart leaps in his chest. Catches on the tinder of his worry and fear and sparks. “You’ve been so good to me,” Ah Jun whispers. He holds Quanzi’s chilled palms to his face and kisses them, one at a time. “And I’ve been nothing but selfish.”“You haven’t,” Quanzi insists, even as he backs him toward the bed. He bends down to kiss him and Ah Jun’s little hitching breath, the swell of his belly pressing forward against Quanzi’s, wipes his mind clean like a blank slate.“I’m sorry that I—”“Shhh. Stop. I forgive you. There’s nothing to forgive.” Words tumble out of him as they miss the bed entirely and Ah Jun’s back slams against the wall hard enough to flake the plaster. Quanzi mouths at his throat hungrily and Ah Jun tips his head back with a soft sob. He’s already hard—Quanzi can feel him, the telling stiffness in his jeans as Quanzi pries his mouth open with his tongue.“Oh, fuck,” Ah Jun sighs, with feeling. He grabs onto Quanzi’s hair and holds on, easing his weight from foot to foot until his legs are sprawled open a little bit. Quanzi takes the hint and presses his thigh into the space Ah Jun has made for him. Ah Jun whimpers and grinds down, twisting, rutting desperately as Quanzi grabs his hips with clumsy, eager hands.Quanzi feels half out of his mind, limbs suffused with energy like wildfire. It chases down the nape of his neck, spreads through his ribs like the antlers of an insatiable buck, and sinks its jaws in deep. He follows the tearing of his flesh and grinds his hips into Ah Jun’s trembling body.“Fuck,” he breathes against Ah Jun’s kiss-bruised mouth. Their pants aren’t even open and he’s more turned on than he’s been in weeks. The little room is filled with sounds—their panting, heaving breaths, the scrape of denim on denim, the little pinched, aching cries Ah Jun makes as he humps Quanzi’s thigh.It’s graceless and raw, like two animals fucking in the shadowed woods. Ah Jun’s breath hitches out and Quanzi breathes it in again, mouths slipping and sucking together; he gets one hand between them long enough to unbutton their jeans and push them down, and then suddenly there’s only hot, sweaty skin as their cocks shove side by side, leaking out their shared desire.The control is addictive. It’s better than uncertainty. Better than fear. He bites Ah Jun’s lower lip until it’s swollen, until it bleeds, and the taste of iron spurs him on.Ah Jun is quiet when he comes. He shakes like a leaf and squeezes his eyes shut tight, fingers clawing at the front of Quanzi’s half-buttoned shirt. A seam strains and pops somewhere. Quanzi gets a hold of his backside and holds him still against the wall, frotting in quick, desperate motions. Then a hot, tidal bloom sweeps over him and he collapses. Pinned between him and the wall, Ah Jun drapes limp arms around his neck and licks sweat from Quanzi’s stubbled cheek.When he pulls back, there’s blood on Ah Jun’s mouth. Quanzi’s stomach flips and he stands up straight, puts space between them as he touches the corner of his swollen lip gingerly.“Okay?”“Mmmmhmm.” Ah Jun smiles lazily and licks his lower lip. “You?”Quanzi isn’t really sure. He stands there a moment, trying to regain his equilibrium, and then he backs away and collapses on the bed, laying on his back with his pants open and his cock out. The springs give way irritably, like a cat being prodded from its resting place in the sun. He stares down at himself.“A bit sticky,” he says.Ah Jun is still leaning against the wall, like he’s afraid his legs won’t hold him steady on their own; but now he comes forward, a little bit shaky, and goes to his knees beside the bed, a small, uncertain smile playing slyly in the corners of his mouth. “Can I....?”Quanzi props himself up on his elbows. His dick is curved slightly against his belly, still flushed and smeared with slick where he came all over himself, but it doesn’t produce the same all-encompassing horror and self-loathing that it used to. Seeing Ah Jun’s face framed between his open thighs curls a little finger of lust deep in his guts.“I… yeah. Go ahead.”Moving slowly, Ah Jun braces his hands on Quanzi’s knees and leans down. His tongue is soft and pink as it laps at the head of his cock—so soft he barely feels it, and yet even that gentle touch feels like electricity is coursing through him, almost too much to bear and yet not quite. He watches through heavy-lidded eyes, breathing coarsely through an open mouth as Ah Jun laves him slowly, tongue tracing every smear and drop of spend until he’s glistening only with saliva. And he doesn’t stop.He’s getting hard again. Slow but steady, blood returns to his cock, thickening like a rod as Ah Jun runs his lips carefully up and down its length. Quanzi’s heart pounds inside his chest and he sits all the way up, legs sprawled as wide as they’ll go. He cups the back of Ah Jun’s head and Ah Jun moans softly, looking up at him through soft, plumed lashes, cheeks pinked and tongue pushed out to tease the head of Quanzi’s dick.Quanzi’s breath punches out of him and he grips Ah Jun’s nape a little more firmly. Ah Jun’s eyes flutter shut and he pulls back. “Let me take your pants off,” he whispers hoarsely. “Please.”Wordlessly, Quanzi lifts his hips. A minute later his jeans are on the ground and Ah Jun is there, so close, hands lying smooth and undemanding on his bare thighs as he takes his cock into his mouth. Quanzi groans and digs his fingers into Ah Jun’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispers. His grip leaves pink marks behind as he takes hold of Ah Jun’s hair instead, threading his fingers gently through the sweat-damp strands. “Junzi… fuck… your mouth is so good, baby. Ngh.”Ah Jun’s brows crumple up and he hollows his cheeks, sliding down—down—down. Quanzi feels his cock bump against the back of his throat, and then Ah Jun is swallowing him, gulping around his frenulum while his tongue dances along the underside of the shaft. His hands still lay still and soft on Quanzi’s bare skin. Not gripping, not demanding. Just giving. Quanzi groans brokenly and leans back on one hand, trying not to grip Ah Jun’s hair too tightly. Junzi lets him go with a little pop and Quanzi’sdick is shiny-bright and red, red like Ah Jun’s lips, wet like his chin where drool and precum have made a mess of him. Ah Jun wipes his mouth on his shirtsleeve and leans down again, pushing Quanzi’s shirt up to let his dick rest against his bare belly. Every stroke of his tongue is broad and a little sloppy, leaving damp patches around his navel. Quanzi’s thighs quiver and he reaches down, past Ah Jun’s working mouth, to massage his own bollocks.“I’m coming soon,” he whispers. He tugs on the collar of Ah Jun’s shirt and thumbs the bright red hickey he’d left there earlier. Ah Jun moans around his cock and sucks him harder.He’s getting closer now—the slow, oversensitive start has melded into a roaring bonfire. When Quanzi leans forward just a little, he can see Ah Jun’s cock standing proudly from his underwear, beaded at the tip with precum, the foreskin pulled back tautly in spite of the lack of attention paid to it. He rubs Ah Jun’s shoulder and scalp, delighting in the little subconscious shiver that wracks him.“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and the flush blooming on his cheeks stains darker; the quiet, messy sounds of his suckling mouth grow faster. His fingers grow tense on Quanzi’s thighs and he can see his hips moving, fruitless, little back-and-forth motions that do nothing to give him stimulation. “Junzi. Oh, oh Junzi…” He croons his name, pets him softly, strokes his thumbs over Ah Jun’s strained and desperate features. “Love…”He comes. Not as fruitfully as last time, but long and strung-out. Shudders wrack his body and his cock twitches on Ah Jun’s tongue as he laps up every sparse drop of seed; and afterward, when Quanzi feels like his bones are made of rubber, Ah Jun pushes him flat on his back and climbs up to straddle his belly.“Is this okay?” he gulps, but Quanzi is already nodding, already cupping his face with permissive hands. Ah Jun leans down and kisses him. Quanzi can taste himself on Ah Jun’s lips, can feel and hear the frantic motion of Ah Jun’s hand on his cock. He wants to return the favor somehow, in spite of his inexperience, but before he can even get his hand down between Ah Jun’s legs, he finds his second orgasm in hot, pulsing stripes across Quanzi’s shirt.Ah Jun cries out, this time. One loud exclamation and then softer, needy mewls as his cock drags wetly against Quanzi’s chest. Then he collapses forward, and Quanzi is there to catch him.They lay side by side for a bit, catching their breaths. Their hands curve together on the mattress, sweaty fingers interlacing loosely. Quanzi says, faintly, “So you’re feeling better?”“Hmmmmm.” Purring like a cat, Ah Jun wriggles out of the rest of his clothes and curls up against Quanzi’s side. “I had an epiphany today.”“Oh?”“Well. I was given an epiphany. Your neighbor—Auntie Luo? She was kind enough to stop by, intending to check up on you, and when she found me languishing here she fussed and fussed until I was ready to bite her head off. And then she said—plain as day—Oh, I’m so glad Li Huiquan has a friend to keep him company. I’m so afraid for him you know, all alone, that poor bachelor boy with no one to take care of him.”Quanzi snorts, already horrified at the prospect of Ah Jun being exposed to the full brunt of Auntie Luo’s motherly instincts. “I’m sorry she disturbed you—”“Fft. It was necessary. I realized—here I am, eating up all your hard-won resources, and doing nothing in return. I don’t—I don’t have money, or any kind of income, yet. But I will,” he says staunchly. “Auntie Luo said she would help. And in the meantime I’m going to make myself useful. Keep things tidy here. Make sure the coal doesn’t run low, that there’s always food in the pantry. I’ve thought it all out.” He sits up, body thrumming with excitement and post-orgasm hormones so loudly that Quanzi can practically feel the drone of it deep in his eardrums. “You can give me a stipend for groceries and little necessities and I’ll see to all of it. A perfect housewife. Or househusband, if you prefer.”Quanzi forces himself to breathe evenly. It’s all very sudden and real—not that it hadn’t been real before, having Ah Jun in his home with nowhere else to go—but the prospect of this, of building and sharing a life, is more than he bargained for. And yet.He sits up and pulls off his shirt, wiping away the stray dampness around his crotch before throwing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulls Ah Jun into his arms with immense care. It’s been nearly two weeks, but his ribs are still tender, and Quanzi regrets throwing him against the wall earlier in their fit of passion.“You make a good argument,” he says, rubbing Ah Jun’s back. Ah Jun cozies up to him with a satisfied little smirk firmly in place. “But don’t stress out about work, okay? Winter can be slow. Take your time. You’re smarter than me, better-connected—don’t fucking argue with me,” he adds, gently overriding Ah Jun’s protests. “Don’t settle for something less than you deserve. I don’t want you hawking wares on the street like some—some ex-convict.”Ah Jun pulls back and frowns. “When will you stop beating on yourself so much? You have steady work, you support yourself—and me, these last few weeks. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”Quanzi looks at him. Ah Jun’s brow is crumpled with irritation, but his face is still flushed and his lips will be plump and bruised for a few more hours yet. Quanzi touches his round little chin with his thumb and smiles. Something is brewing in him, some nugget of sweetness, like a sugar lump buried in his ribcage that’s beginning to take root. He feels, for the first time, absurdly, that there is something to look forward to. That this tender, unspooled moment is only the beginning.“Soup’s getting cold,” he says. Ah Jun makes a face but kissed him anyway, and together they go to the table to have dinner.///Winter strings itself out across their lives like an unraveled scarf, knotting into curls and coils that snag at their feet and trip them up. Work, as Quanzi feared, is difficult to find. Ah Jun puts on a brave face, but Quanzi can tell it wears on him. Some days he doesn’t play the “little housewife” quite as well as he once promised, and on those days Quanzi begins nurturing the little seed of sweetness Ah Jun had planted in him. It feels good. Something more lasting, more meaningful than just the rote passing of days. He’s never been very good at taking care of himself, but taking care of Ah Jun feels like a gift.Then, with the first stirrings of warmer weather in the air, comes the proverbial windfall. In the very early spring, Auntie Luo turns up with a connection, an old friend of so and so, and suddenly Ah Jun finds himself the proud owner of a new job: copyediting for a small newspaper. It mostly circulates trashy crime short stories peppered with dubiously reliable news pieces, but Ah Jun is happy, and the steady income helps the strain that’s been put on Quanzi’s fluctuating pay.He still hasn’t seen or spoken to his parents, but Quanzi doesn’t ask him about it. Until the day he comes home early, biking slowly along Spirit Run Street with his leftover goods, and turns the corner to see a young woman sitting in front of his door. Uncle Luo had built them a little bench to put outside, as his wife was apparently concerned her neighbors weren’t getting enough fresh air. The woman using it now is around his age, it looks like, with thick, arched brows and a fashionable cloud of dark auburn hair. Her eyes are heavily made-up and seem to survey the yard with distaste, and when she glances over Quanzi he can practically feel the scorn behind her thick mascara.Most pressing of all, though, she bears a frighteningly close resemblance to Ah Jun.Quanzi parks his three-wheeler in the yard and climbs off slowly. He tries to take his time, to busy himself with packing up his merchandise, but the woman doesn’t give him a chance to prevaricate. She stands, straightening her clothes with a few well-placed flicks of her manicured nails, and comes right up to him with a little sniff as if to demand his attention.“I’m looking for Yongjun,” she says, and Quanzi’s nervous heartbeat falls into the pit of his stomach.“He’s not here,” he mumbles in reply. If he pays her the minimal amount of attention necessary, maybe she’ll leave him alone.“When will he be back?”How did you find him? Quanzi wants to ask, but he daren’t give himself away. “Who wants to know?” he asks, with more belligerence than he feels.The woman purses her lips. “I’m his sister. I’ve been looking for him everywhere—our parents are worried sick. Do you know we haven’t seen him in months?”Quanzi remembers the bloom of bruises on Ah Jun’s ribs, the long hours he’d cried into his pillow or laid perfectly still in bed, as if he were a caterpillar trying to weave a chrysalis around himself to hide. His fists clenched at his sides of their own volition. “You should go,” he says, and makes for the door.He doesn’t want to let her in, but she slips in behind him somehow and stands just inside the door, looking around curiously. The house doesn’t look like much, but to his eyes it’s a world of difference from the end of last year. Ah Jun’s finicky taste is evident in the well-scrubbed floors and the collection of esoteric books piled on the table, which he’d taken over for his “work.” Quanzi keeps his own collection separate on the desk, but sometimes they merge and flow together; lately Ah Jun has been reading Three Kingdoms to him aloud at night, doing all the voices—more for his own amusement than Quanzi’s, although privately Quanzi admits he appreciates the effort, as it’s difficult for him to keep track of all the characters.“Will he be here soon?” his sister presses. Quanzi has no intention of offering her water, or asking her name. Or giving his own, for that matter. He stumps around, doing his after-work tasks, and sits at the table to tally up his sales for the day.The door swings open just as he’s beginning to hope that Ah Jun will be late after all. A puff of cold air swirls in on his heels, and it’s the perfect backdrop to the sudden frigidity in the room as Ah Jun sees his sister there, waiting for him.“What are you doing here,” he says flatly, so flat there isn’t even the suggestion of a question at the end of it.“Junzi,” she exclaims, all stick-syrup delight, but Ah Jun slips out of her grasping arms and comes to put his things on the table: his battered leather briefcase that he found at the market, that he’s so proud of, his scarf, the basket of take-out he picked up on the way home. The domesticity of it is usually a warm glow in his chest, but today Quanzi feels it like a sharp sting beneath his ribs. Ah Jun’s sister looks between them and her glowing facade grows dim.“I was coming to see if you might come home,” she says delicately, “but I can see now that’s not possible.”Ah Jun gives a short, bitter bark of laughter. “After what he did, you really think I’d come back? What, did you think I was destitute? Desperate? Living on the streets without Daddy’s warm, loving arms to keep me safe?”Quanzi stares at the table. He hates this. He hates her for coming here, for splintering their hard-won peace, for making Ah Jun sound like that.“I was looking for you,” she begins in a small voice, but Ah Jun just keeps rolling.“If my friends hadn’t helped me, I would be dead,” he snaps. “Do you understand that? You saw what he did, you stood there and watched, and—”She opens her pretty lipstick mouth to say something—to apologize? To refute him?—but Quanzi has heard enough.“It’s time for you to go,” he says, pushing back from the table with a horrible screech of the chair legs against the old tile. He doesn’t mean to look or sound intimidating, but she takes a step back nevertheless, and it feels good. It feels good to be feared. “Let me show you out.”He doesn’t take her elbow, not with Ah Jun watching, but it’s a near thing. She doesn’t need the extra encouragement, anyway.When she’s gone, he locks the door behind her. Maybe he should have said something about not coming looking for them again, but he was too flustered—he’s still shaking a little as he turns back to face Ah Jun.He’s staring back, frozen like a statue. “Are you okay?” Quanzi whispers. He realizes he never turned the light on, and it’s dark enough now that he can barely make out Ah Jun’s expression in the dimness.Ah Jun takes a deep breath. “You know…. I think… I am.” He shrugs out of his coat and comes to him, folding their hands together and laying his head on his shoulder. “Are you?”“Of course.” Quanzi breathes him in and tries to let the familiar smell of old books and fresh ink steady him.“You know,” Ah Jun says quietly into the muddled stillness, “I’ve been thinking. About… moving out.”Every bone in his body turns to brittle glass and Quanzi pulls away. “What?”“I’m okay now,” Ah Jun says, clutching loosely at Quanzi’s rolled-up sleeves to keep him from backing too far away. “You—I’ve been a burden on you, I know. I didn’t want to be, but I was, and now that I have a job and I can take care of myself, it’s not fair to you to have me around, cluttering up your house—” He casts his arm wide, indicating the books and old newspapers piled on the table—his research—and the extra shoes at the foot of the bed, all the little insidious paraphernalia that had slowly accumulated through their shared months together. “There’s not much room here, and you’re a solitary soul, Quanzi. I know sometimes you get… frustrated. I don’t…” He worries his bottom lip and looks at the floor. “I don’t want to be the thing that comes between us.”Quanzi feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room suddenly. Ah Jun’s words make sense, logically, but all he can feel is the cold advance of abandonment writhing around his ankles like a low-creeping fog. “Where would you go?” he forces out through numb lips.Ah Jun’s mouth opens and shuts a few times, like a fish, and then he admits, “Mr. Guan is renting the apartment over his bookshop. I talked to him about it yesterday.”Quanzi feels sick, heavy-headed. He turns away and goes to sit on the foot of the bed, folding his trembling hands between his knees. “You’ve been thinking about it for a while, then. Leaving.”“I have, yes,” Ah Jun says sharply, “because I feel guilty for smothering you! I’m not leaving, Quanzi, don’t you see? I’m making space for us to—”“But you are leaving,” Quanzi interrupts tightly. “You can just come out and say it, you know. I won’t take offense. It’s not anything I haven’t been expecting.”There’s a moment of uncomfortable quiet. Then Ah Jun comes to him, and kneels, forcing himself into Quanzi’s line of sight. “Come out and say what?”The tight, cold fist in Quanzi’s chest tightens. “That I’m not good enough for you.”“That’s not true,” Ah Jun whispers vehemently, without even a breath of hesitation. “Quanzi, listen to me. Listen to me. That isn’t true.” He grabs Quanzi’s hands where they’ve fused together at the joints and forcibly spreads his fingers apart, stroking the palms with his thumbs, kissing the backs of his knuckles. “I’m sorry. I thought that I was… stifling you, in some way. Or frustrating you. But tell me right now that isn’t true, and I’ll tell Mr. Guan to forget all about it.”Quanzi shuts his eyes and tips his head back. He hates this feeling, this lump in his throat like he wants to cry, but the tears just won’t come. “It’s true, I’m not used to living with someone so closely,” he admits after a while. “I know I’ve lost my temper, before. I’ll try to do better.”“It’s not the temper I’m worried about, sweetness.” Ah Jun gets to his feet and sits beside him. The width of the bed is so narrow that he’s nearly on the verge of falling off it, even with their thighs pressed firmly together. If Quanzi were richer he’d buy them the biggest bed he could find. No wonder Ah Jun wants to move out. “Listen. I have a proposition.”Quanzi frees one hand and rubs his nose with the back of his wrist. “What?”“Come with me. To Mr. Guan’s apartment. He loves you like a father, he wouldn’t say no. And there will be plenty of room for both of us. It’ll mean paying rent but between the two of us we could afford it. And maybe you could help him with the shop sometimes to shave a little off, huh? What do you think?”Quanzi takes a deep breath. Looks around. This has been his mother’s home, his home, for as long as he can remember. The prospect of leaving this last piece of his old self behind is terrifying. And yet.As he looks, it occurs to him how little of it he recognizes. A much younger Quanzi wouldn’t know the place at all. Everywhere, Ah Jun’s touch assaults him, the mess and happy clutter of another whole person slotting in beside his placid, uninteresting routine. It never felt entirely like a home before Ah Jun; it was just a place to lay his head, a place to hide from the world when his life was at its darkest.The little picture Ah Jun has painted feels like a window has been opened somewhere, deep inside him. He shrinks from the light, and yet he craves it.“Maybe not right away,” Ah Jun is saying, his voice a soothing backdrop to the swirl of Quanzi’s thoughts. “There’s no rush. You think about it, okay? Let me know what you decide.” He pats Quanzi’s hands and gets up from the bed, kicking off his shoes belatedly, shrugging out of his coat. He clatters around the kitchen, getting dinner laid out while Quanzi sits in stillness.I want that, he realizes suddenly. The clarity of it is like a gong striking somewhere deep in the ballast of his ribcage. I want that with him.It makes no sense against the snarled backdrop of what he’d always thought he’d have, but like a small cork-boat cresting enormous, devouring waves, occasionally he catches sight of that open window, the tantalizing rays of sunlight glancing in to play across the floor. Inviting him out into the wide world.He takes a breath and gets up. Fear and doubt raise their ugly heads, but he brushes them aside even as he brushes a kiss to Ah Jun’s cheek and sits down. I’ll tell him… soon. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will step over the threshold.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Summer is muggy and hot. Quanzi sweats through most of it, sweats through all his clothes and is heartily miserable until evening, when he rides his bike down to the riverbank at North Sea Park and peels off his shirt to lay under evening’s benevolent shadow. Ah Jun joins him there after work, dragging his briefcase behind him, longish hair plastered to his forehead from the trip on the tram. He is usually grumpy, at first, sour-smelling, full of stories about his dull and temperamental boss, the frivolity of his coworkers. But then he strips down to shorts and tank top, puts his feet in the water even though Quanzi groans at him, and he’s so beautiful that Quanzi forgets how to breathe. They read together until it’s too dark to see the pages, and then Ah Jun pulls out a flashlight. By this time, Quanzi usually has a headache—he flops onto his back in the grass, shadowed by nightfall and the encircling shrubbery, and listens to Ah Jun’s voice rippling smoothly through the words like a stream dredging up the secrets of its underbelly. Eventually, the flashlight turns off. Ah Jun will put his things away and then spread himself out against Quanzi’s side like a cat seeking the warmest patch of sun in which to sleep. The first few times, Quanzi’s heart had beat so fast for fear of discovery that he wondered if he was going into cardiac arrest. But it gets easier. Everything with Ah Jun gets easier. In late August, he puts his mouth on Ah Jun’s dick for the first time. It’s a little cooler now that the sun has set, but the air is still heavy with moisture, pressing at them from all sides like a silk sheet. It makes them feel more alone. More secret. They’re getting carried away. Quanzi is obsessed with Ah Jun’s chest and stomach. Domestic life has made him fat, he says, and truthfully he’s grown a little softer in the middle, inviting Quanzi’s groping fingers and hot, wet mouth. In the dark, where there’s no one to see, he pushes up Ah Jun’s shirt and sucks bright points of heat into his skin. Laps up the salt left behind from a day’s worth of sweat. Ah Jun moans. Softly. He’s so hapless, so emotive—he makes more sounds than is healthy, Quanzi thinks, even when he’s trying to be quiet. The rooms they share over Mr. Guan’s shop have thin walls, but here there is no pillow to bury his face into, only his own sleeve, and Quanzi’s fingers when he reaches up and slips them into Ah Jun’s mouth. He cups Ah Jun through his denim shorts, which he’s rolled up nearly to the tops of his thighs. He’s really hard. They’ve only been making out for five minutes. Well, maybe ten. Fifteen? Quanzi pushes his tongue into Ah Jun’s navel and rubs his open palm up and down over his fly. Ah Jun spasms. Quanzi’s mouth is full of water. Fuck, he wants this. More than he’s ever wanted anything. He fights with the button and zip, pulls Ah Jun’s cock out into the open air. He’s touched it before, and it’s not terrifying anymore, doesn’t make him seize up or feel queasy or push Ah Jun away. He smells pretty rank—not in a bad way. Just sweaty and musky, thick, cloying in his nose. Ah Jun’s pubic hair is wispy and damp against his wrist as he rolls the head around the palm of his hand. Ah Jun squirms, pushing his hips up.Quanzi puts the tip against his tongue and just holds it there a moment. Ah Jun goes utterly still. In the dark, his belly rises and falls rapidly, echoing his gale-force breaths as he stares down the length of his body at Quanzi. “Are you…” he starts to say, and then chokes. He tastes salty. Like his belly had, skin and sweat, but also warm, kind of like fruit that’s sat in the sun too long and is on the verge of spoiling. Ah Jun’s thighs tremble as Quanzi closes his lips around the seam of his foreskin and sucks. “Quanzi.” Ah Jun’s voice is barely a whisper. He’s sweating heavy in the moonlight, gleams like he’s made of glass. Quanzi expected to feel disgust, or maybe awkward uncertainty; he feels none of those things. Instead, pride licks inside his chest like a curious flame as Ah Jun’s thighs stretch wider, wider, as his fingers turn to claws in the grass, as he strains to keep quiet. Quanzi holds his shaft between thumb and forefinger, a hefty pinch of flesh. Up and down. The slide of his foreskin slips him in and out of Quanzi’s mouth. He feels a little like a fish nibbling toothlessly on a bit of bait forever being tugged out of his reach. The thought makes him smile around Ah Jun’s dick. “I’m gonna—” Ah Jun gasps suddenly, knees jerking. Quanzi pops off with a sound like a distant firework shedding its shell. His hand keeps moving just because that seems like the appropriate thing to do, and then a moment or two later, Ah Jun comes messily all over his hand and all over himself. His shirt was pushed up out of the way, thank goodness. It runs down his chest into a little puddle where his belly bends at the waist, and then off into the grass. Quanzi stares. Drinks him in with his eyes like a man stumbling upon an oasis in the desert. Ah Jun smiles, slow and lazy. “Well. That was…” Ah Jun cuts himself off and reaches out, cupping Quanzi’s sturdy chin in one hand. “Your mouth…”“You forget how to finish a sentence or something?” Quanzi says, squirming under the praise. It has to be praise, with a look like that on his face, like Quanzi just lifted the whole Xicheng District onto his back without breaking a sweat. “Yeah. You just sucked my brains out through my cock.”“Ugh.”Jun cackles, then cuts himself off quick and busies himself wiping his come off onto the grass and straightening his clothes. Quanzi, still painfully hard in his shorts, busies himself with watching. When he’s sorted, Ah Jun sits up and cups Quanzi’s face in his hands. “You’re amazing,” he says. Brief but sincere, his gentle smile great enough to break the camel’s back. The shift in mood dizzies Quanzi, makes him long to bury his face in Ah Jun’s thigh and hide from the world. But Ah Jun is holding him, and kissing him—his brow, his cheekbone, his slack, salty mouth—so he stays where he is on his belly in the grass, and kisses back. After a minute he’s rocking against the grass. After another minute he’s following Ah Jun’s insistent hands, fumbling up to put his knees around Ah Jun’s ribs and his hands braced on the ground just so he can feel something sturdy under his palms. The world feels like it’s spinning as Ah Jun wraps his lips around his cock and sucks. Hard. Quanzi bites his lip hard enough to bleed and doesn’t cry out. Where Quanzi lipped and fumbled, Ah Jun is a master craftsman. He puts his tongue in places Quanzi had never dreamed a tongue could go. By now he knows intimately the feel of Ah Jun’s hand and his clever fingers, knows the heat and slick of his inner thighs rubbed with oil; but the heat of his mouth is always entirely new to him. Quanzi almost forgets to give warning. His voice is too tangled up in knots to speak, but he manages to grab Ah Jun’s chin and pull away, and it’s enough—he hunches over like he’s been stabbed, mouth open and soundless as his spunk paints Ah Jun’s face in white. He’s still wearing his glasses. When Quanzi can breathe again, he sits back a little and touches Ah Jun’s cheek. He’s blushing under the mess Quanzi made of him. Smiling. His lips are bruised and puffy, and his eyelids sink low as Quanzi smears a bit of come into the corner of his mouth, tongue darting out to taste. “Thank you,” Ah Jun says against the pad of his thumb. His voice has been reduced to a hoarse, sandpapery growl. “You’re filthy. Here.” Quanzi slips his glasses off and wipes his face clean with his hands, then off onto the grass. Ah Jun blinks myopically—without the lenses hiding half his face, he looks younger. But he is certainly not a child. Quanzi just had evidence of that. “Next time,” Ah Jun murmurs slyly, “you should put your fingers inside of me.”Quanzi’s face blooms hot like he’s just been slapped. He hunches his shoulders and tries not to think of it, of the heat and the tight clench of Ah Jun’s slippery body. His hands fumble as he tucks himself away and Ah Jun laughs. “Isn’t that,” Quanzi starts, and then he snaps his mouth shut. He clambers off of him and throws himself onto the grass, staring up through the spun-lace trees at the orange of Beijing’s night sky. “It sounds unsanitary.”“I’ll wash first, of course.” Ah Jun makes it sound like the most reasonable thing in the world. He rolls over and tucks himself in against Quanzi’s side despite the heat, the humidity. Quanzi doesn’t shove him away. “I’ll do it first, how about that? To me, I mean.” He walks his fingers down Quanzi’s chest to the hem of his shirt, slips his hand underneath. Such casual intimacy still takes Quanzi’s breath away. “It feels really nice,” he adds, and whispers, “Sometimes, if I do it right, I can cum a couple times in a row without spilling a drop.”Quanzi’s face flames. “Junzi,” he growls, but doesn’t push him when he laughs and drapes himself against his chest like a stole. Ah Jun the mink, black-eyed and too quick to follow. An ugly one, though, hairless and flat-snouted. Quanzi tries to picture wearing him on his shoulders and laughs. “What’s so funny, sweet?”Quanzi shakes his head. “Nothing. Come on, let’s go back.”They bike back to the bookshop apartment, Quanzi at the pedals, Ah Jun propped on the spokes behind him. He leans into him more, now. Masked by the dark, emboldened by intimacy, Quanzi grins into the breeze and lets it whistle through his teeth. Inside, props his bike against the wall at the top of the stairs and opens the windows to let in a little cool air. Ah Jun piles his workbooks on the desk, the one they brought along from Spirit Run Street, and goes to the next room. When Quanzi joins him he’s already half out of his clothes. He stands back a moment just to admire him. The lamp overhead is a limpid yellow color, and it spills like butter over Ah Jun’s bare back, his stringy arms, the long curve of his spine when he bends to take off his shoes. Quanzi thinks about what he said before. About being inside. He thinks about grabbing him by the waist, just as he is, about pulling down the back of his boxers and just looking. “Hey.” Ah Jun stands up and pushes his glasses back up his nose. “Whatcha looking at, big boy?”Quanzi snorts. “A string bean.”“Hey.” He comes at him, grinning, bobbing his fists in a mockery of battle. Quanzi lets himself be assaulted. Tap tap tap under his arms, up his chest. Ah Jun’s knuckles press oh-so-gently to the side of his face. Quick as a snake, Quanzi slinks an arm around his waist and dumps him back onto the bed. Ah Jun yelps and kicks, laughing at the top of his lungs even when Quanzi tries to muffle him with his arm. “Shut up,” he tells him. His face is throbbing with affection—he can’t stop smiling. After a bit of a wriggle, Ah Jun collapses flat on his back and sighs dramatically. Hands over his head. Nipples taut and dark, chest flushed. His skin is tacky with dried sweat when Quanzi rubs his hands along it, all down his chest and stomach like he’s feeling up a woman. “Ah-h!” Ah Jun arcs his back until his diaphragm heaves out, like it’s trying to flee his body. Quanzi presses down harder until he lays still and massages his tummy, his flat chest. Ah Jun squirms and gasps. “Show me,” Quanzi pants. He’s hard again. The ride must have revived him—he can still taste the night air in the back of his throat, like he’s swallowed the city whole. Underneath him, Ah Jun tugs off his shorts and socks and props his knees up, together, all prim. “Get me water,” he says hastily, before Quanzi can reach for him. “I need—I need to wash.”Quanzi grunts irritably, but goes. His clothing feels stiff and restricting, so he strips off in the kitchen and sloughs himself down before pouring a fresh basin for Ah Jun. The little kernel of soap bobs around like a toy boat in a gale as he comes back to the bedroom, half-hard dick bobbing in time inside his underpants. It must make an absurd performance, but Ah Jun isn’t laughing. He breathes through his teeth, nostrils flared, and pushes his glasses up into his hair. Reaches for the soap.“Here.” Quanzi chucks a towel at him. “You want me to leave?”Ah Jun shakes his head. “Come. Sit next to me.”The whole scene feels intensely private. Quanzi’s fresh-scrubbed skin tingles with awareness as he stretches out on the bed, facing away from where Ah Jun has his heels braced at the edge of the mattress. He licks his lips and stares back, but his eyes are a little bit unfocused, like he’s concentrating. Water splashes now and then. When Ah Jun swallows, his throat bobs like there’s a whole apple trapped inside. After a minute he makes a low, quiet noise in his chest, and splashes some more. His face is turning red. “Junzi…” Quanzi leans up on one elbow and reaches across with the other hand to rub his chest, pinching at his nipples now and then. Ah Jun’s mouth drops open in response. “Are you ready yet?”Ah Jun takes a deep breath and nods. His glasses have come off onto the mattress, so Quanzi busies himself putting those on the side table while Ah Jun dries off and sets the basin and the towel on the ground. Then he crawls onto his belly, knees tucked under him, and smiles over his shoulder. “Go ahead…”Quanzi starts with the familiar. The middle of Ah Jun’s back is smooth and sun-warm, inviting his hands and lips to follow that perfect arch. With his lips to Ah Jun’s sacrum, Quanzi cups his ass in both hands. That is familiar territory, too. He squeezes gently and grins when Ah Jun moans softly into the pillow. His skin here is still damp from being washed, and smells like nothing in particular. He rubs his thumb shallowly into the crease and presses him open. In the shadow he casts over Ah Jun’s body, there isn’t much to see. He uses his fingers instead. One hand holds him open, the other traces down, down between his cheeks to glance against the knot of his asshole. Ah Jun goes rigid at that slight touch, and Quanzi pulls back shyly. “Sorry, sorry.” But Ah Jun just makes an encouraging noise, so he returns, knuckling his perineum and cupping his balls briefly in his palm. The delicate, crepe-paper feel of his skin gives him a rush. Ah Jun is so pliant and willing, exposing himself like this for Quanzi’s benefit. Slowly, slow as sugar melting in the pan, he pushes the tip of his finger against Ah Jun’s asshole. It feels firm and unyielding. He shies away, rubbing up and down softly instead. The skin is damp and tender from being washed and Ah Jun squirms on the sheets, pushes back. He worms his hands flat under his own knees and holds on. “Is this right?” Quanzi whispers. He moves, and his shadow moves, too, spilling artificial citrine light down Ah Jun’s backside. The skin between his asscheeks is darker than the rest, sprinkled with downy hair, and it gives under the gentle pressure of his finger. His blood pounds in his ears. “It’s perfect,” Ah Jun says. He shifts again, folding his arms underneath his head. His toes flex against the sheets as he lifts up, back, a silent invitation. Then, “Here. Give me your hand.”Quanzi leans forward obediently and startles when Ah Jun puts his first two fingers straight into his mouth. His teeth scrape at his knuckles and his cheeks hollow, tongue lapping at the undersides, and when he releases him his fingers are slick and shiny with saliva. “There. Now.” Ah Jun takes his wrist and guides him back. This time when he touches him there, behind his balls, the glide is easier. Quanzi rubs more intently, wanting to spread the slick before it evaporates. The skin grows soft and warm, the tightly-furled muscle loosening a little. In a flash of brilliance, he leans down a bit, working up saliva, and spits right into the top of the crease. Ah Jun twitches and fists the sheets. “Fuck,” he mumbles, low and indistinct against the pillow. The wad of spit slides down. Quanzi watches it a moment, spellbound, then rubs his thumb into that tightly-closed place, firmly, making little circles. When it feels soft enough, he pushes forward. His thumb slides in with only a little resistance. He can feel the muscle twitching against the joint where his thumb meet his hand, and he curls it inward a little. Ah Jun cries out softly. “Thin walls,” Quanzi reminds him softly, though he thinks Mr. Guan must be going deaf if he hasn’t complained of their ruckus by now. He pulls out a bit, feeling the wet cling of Ah Jun’s body, as if it were reluctant to let him go. Then pushes back in, as far as he can. It isn’t very far, but Ah Jun mumbles blasphemously into the pillow anyway. Quanzi’s prick, momentarily confused, now juts forward eagerly, barely contained by the placket of his boxers. “Junzi…”Ah Jun whimpers when Quanzi pushes his dick into the back of his thigh. He feels drunk, maybe a little bit high, even though it’s been weeks since his last cigarette. When he moves his hand, he can hear the faint wet sound of his thumb inside Ah Jun’s hole, and it electrifies him—he feels it like a hand stroking the nape of his neck. “Fingers now,” Ah Jun gasps after a while. His body clamps down hard, muscles striated with the gentle strength of mountains. “Oil will make it easier.”Quanzi stumbles out of bed and goes to the kitchen. Crashes about in the dark until he has what he needs, then returns with shaking hands and a skull scooped out hollow with disbelief. Ah Jun pulls him to the bed, twisting around so that their mouths can meet, half-open and hot—Quanzi breathes out and Ah Jun breathes in, and he fits up against him from behind, belly to spine, slopping oil all over his hands when the cap comes loose. “Sorry—sorry,” he stammers. Oil has dribbled onto the backs of Ah Jun’s calves, the curve of his ass. “It’s okay,” Ah Jun murmurs, “it’s okay.” He bends forward, planting his hands on the bed. It seems ignoble for him to crouch like this, prostrating himself like a common animal preparing for the rut. But then Quanzi drags his slippery fingers down between his cheeks to rub his hole, and Ah Jun’s stifled wail ignites him like a crumpled bit of tinder going up in smoke. The line of shadow spilling down Ah Jun’s back guides his hand. He moves, massages, the pads of his fingers pressing and pressing. He can’t see what he’s doing, but the feel of Ah Jun’s softest, most tender place is incredibly addicting. “Like this?” he whispers. One curious finger slips inside, stroking. Ah Jun buries his face in the coverlet and whimpers. One finger turns into two. Quanzi’s harder than he’s ever been in his life—every time he shifts forward, his dick leaves little wet smears on Ah Jun’s thigh. Sweat coats him like a second skin and his lungs feel overfilled with air, like hot balloons rising in a clear blue sky. Underneath him, Ah Jun squirms and grapples with the bedding until the sheets are all askew, barely clinging to the edges of the mattress. “Please,” he whimpers, and the sound is like a bell gently ringing in a distant temple. “Please, Quanzi, I need it.”Quanzi, clinging to his sanity by the tips of his fingers, lets go. He touches himself only enough to line his dick up with the slack pout of Ah Jun’s asshole—any more and he fears he’ll come off without having done anything at all. Ah Jun is warm and slippery against his cockhead. Quanzi breathes and curves forward until his forehead skids right between Ah Jun’s shoulderblades. He pushes inside. It’s very tight. But the oil and his clumsy momentum push him forward, and he falls a little, landing on one hand with his belly smushed to Ah Jun’s spine and their thighs glued together with sweat, front to back. His dick is inside of him, all the way. Quanzi trembles like a leaf. “Fuuuuck,” Ah Jun groans, long and satisfied. His face is buried in his arms and into the pillow, but he turns his head enough that Quanzi can see the slightest edge of a smile on his face. The nerves twisting in his gut go quiet. “Like,” Quanzi stammers, “like that?” His hips are moving almost outside of his control, little shivering pushes. He’s so deep inside. Like Ah Jun is nothing more than a bit of meat on a skewer. The comparison shames him, flooding his face with heat, but Ah Jun grabs his hand where it’s braced against the mattress and pulls it to his lips. Quanzi’s unsupported weight shoves him further into the mattress, and he smiles against Quanzi’s palm, still soft with oil. “Just like that. However you want it.”Quanzi whimpers. The intensity of it is frightening—he feels as if his body is being controlled by someone else, something else. His thrusts are clumsy and stilted. But Ah Jun holds his hand, holds it to his mouth. Quanzi can feel him smiling, gasping, can feel the tickle of blasphemous prayers being whispered into his skin. Then Ah Jun presses back. Half-aware, his head soaked with the fog of pleasure, Quanzi sits back on his heels and watches, like a ghost looking down after the spirit has departed the body. Ah Jun is sitting on his lap, on his cock, bouncing in time to an internal rhythm that Quanzi has not yet figured out. One of Quanzi’s hands is at his mouth, fingers against his tongue. Ah Jun takes his other arm and wraps it around his own middle. Quanzi is but a chair for him to recline upon, a tool for his own pleasure. Quanzi is happy to be taken. There comes a kind of synchronicity now that Quanzi is no longer in control. He lets Ah Jun set the pace, lets his body be the metronome by which he keeps time. He rests his forehead on Ah Jun’s shoulder and holds him tightly around the waist. Maybe, if they get close enough, he can dissolve into Ah Jun’s body and be one with him forever. “Ah!” Ah Jun cries suddenly, head arching back. Over his shoulder, Quanzi can see the delicate surface of his throat illuminated softly by the bleed of the streetlight through the shuttered windows. He wants to bite it. So he does—turns his head and sinks his teeth gently, so gently, into that tender skin. “Ahhh ahh ahh…”Quanzi doesn’t tell him to be quiet. His body rocks like a boat drifting from its moorings, up and down, up and down, always stayed by the rope that binds him to the pier—Jun’s weight, the flexion of his thighs. The sound of their coupling is obscene. It rings in the tiny apartment like applause, wet and insistent, but they have no audience. Quanzi buries his face in Ah Jun’s nape and cries out. He is splintering apart. The waves consume him in a sudden rush. For a moment he is drowning, reaching out with desperate hands for the slightest sign of rescue. He holds Ah Jun to him like a wrestler pinning his opponent to the mat—his arm bulges with muscle and a raw, subterranean groan wrings itself dry in his chest as he comes in unending spasms. Reality slams back into him in black and white, fuzzy like a TV with poor reception. He lets go of Ah Jun’s waist, gasping and red-faced, but his stammering, thick-tongued apologies dry up when he feels the wet spatter of semen on the back of his hand. Ah Jun groans and slumps forward. They fall to the mattress together, peeling apart at the seams only to fold back into each other’s arms. There’s a wet spot on the coverlet, but neither of them particularly cares. They are both breathless, overcome. Quanzi licks away the salt sliding into the corner of his mouth and wipes his cheek with a clumsy hand. So that’s what it’s like. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep. But his head, still reeling, demands rejuvenation, and so he startles awake some time later to the feel of Ah Jun slumbering on his chest, snoring faintly. Quanzi’s dick feels sticky, and there’s oil everywhere. He feels boneless. His mind, at last, is quiet.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Ah, fuck.”The stack gives way without enough warning, and Quanzi watches the whole thing fall to the ground in a shower of loose papers and other detritus. It makes far more noise than should be warranted from a collection of books and receipts and general junk, and he watches it all in mute, longsuffering silence. The last straw is a little cardboard folder that pops open and scatters several sheets of yellowed photo paper across the floor. Quanzi sighs and gets on his knees.“Quanzi? Everything okay?” Ah Jun’s voice filters through the house dimly, muffled by the walls and by the annoyed rustling as Quanzi picks up the mess.“Fine! Knocked some stuff over in the office.” He frowns and stops to look at a slim volume he plucked out of the pile. It’s pretty old, with pages the color of marigolds all soft and worn at the corners, and the binding cloaked in layers of duct tape. One of Ah Jun’s old college books, maybe. He puts it aside and reaches for the photo paper.And nearly drops it again. On the other side he finds his own face staring back at him—a face he hasn’t seen in many, many years. He can’t be older than twenty-five, with a smooth, soft jaw and a sad mouth to match his sad, drooping eyes. He looks again at the name of the photo lab stamped on the back and laughs a little.“What’s so funny?”He sits back on his heels and waves the photo at his partner—one of several, all identical, ordered around the New Year after he was out of the labor camp. “Working portraits. I had no idea we still had these.”They must’ve migrated with him somehow in the move from his mother’s house to the apartment he’s shared with Ah Jun for over fifteen years now. Sitting there all this time, untouched…“Look at you!” Ah Jun laughs, smoothing the photo with a careful finger. “Such a soft baby face. This must have been around the time we met, hmm?”Quanzi rubs a hand over his short beard reflectively. He has a few clear memories of that time, standing out bright and sharp against the hazy backdrop of depression. Meeting Ah Jun is definitely one of them. He tries to remember what he looked like—not so different from now, albeit with fewer lines around his mouth and eyes, his hair darker and longer when it flopped over his face. A softer mouth. And enormous glasses. He laughs just to think of them, and Ah Jun huffs.“What are you laughing at, old man?”“You.” He tidies the rest of the mess together in a loose pile and groans his way back to his feet, joints popping in protest. “Talking of baby faces, you were a pup yourself.”“Hmmm.” He’s still looking at the portrait when Quanzi turns around, but he leans into him obligingly and puts his head on his shoulder when Quanzi rests a hand against the small of his back. “You were so sad, then,” he says quietly. “I’d forgotten.”Quanzi tugs the photo out of his hands and sets it on the desk, cupping his face in his palms to study him. He gets more handsome every year, Quanzi thinks. He keeps his salt-and-pepper hair close-cropped around his ears; stylish tortoiseshell bifocals frame his beautiful eyes. Comparing him to the loose-limbed, quick-laughing boy he’d known in their youth, he finds nothing lacking.“Did I ever tell you,” Quanzi murmurs, tapping a thumb against Ah Jun’s lower lip thoughtfully, “how you saved my life?”“Saved you?” His eyebrows, perfectly groomed, rise high above his glasses and fold fresh wrinkles into the smooth plane of his forehead. “How so?”“Not physically, maybe. But I was… drowning. Very slowly, so slowly I didn’t even notice. I don’t know how long I would have lasted, living like that, if you hadn’t come along.” He draws Ah Jun close and brushes a kiss to his forehead. “I’ve never really thanked you properly. I should remedy that.”“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ah Jun murmurs, sounding strained. When Quanzi pulls back to look at him, his sharp, intelligent eyes are cloudy with emotion. “I didn’t save you. You saved yourself. And I’ll always be grateful that you did.”I wouldn’t have had the strength to drag myself out of the dark without you, Quanzi thinks whimsically, but he doesn’t argue the point. Ah Jun has always been determined to give him more credit than he deserves. He can humor him just this once. “And I,” he says simply, and kisses him.Ah Jun kisses back with more fervor than necessary at this time of day—the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, with customers downstairs and the windows thrown open wide to admit the mellow spring sunshine and the sound of traffic. But it feels appropriate. Feels right. Quanzi firms his grip at the nape of his neck, his hip, and Ah Jun hums, opening under his assault and slipping his hands into the back pockets of Quanzi’s jeans.“Ahhh,” he sighs afterward, like he’s just taken a deep draught of water. Ah Jun’s glasses are a bit smudged, so Quanzi plucks them off his face and wipes them clean on the hem of his shirt. “Why are you up here, anyway?” Ah Jun asks belatedly, touching his own kiss-swollen lower lip. “I thought you were helping with the register today.”“Came up looking for a reference slip and got sidetracked.” He tips Ah Jun’s face up with a finger to his chin and kisses him again. He tucks the clean glasses into Ah Jun’s front pocket. “I should really get back…”“Hmm.” Kiss. A hand rubs the front of his chest admiringly. Ah Jun still can’t keep his hands to himself, even after all this time. “I was thinking we should order in tonight. What would you like?”“Anything. You decide.” He replaces his glasses and kisses him again, soft and slow. Ah Jun likes to keep his own face cleanshaven, and Quanzi rubs his bristly chin against the soft skin of his throat until Ah Jun gasps and mewls, clutching the front of his shirt.“Quanzi,” he gasps, and shoves him away half-heartedly. “Get on with you, I have work to do.”“Hmmm. Hard work, huh?” Quanzi grabs him by the belt loop and reels him in.“Quanzi…”“What is it, husband?”“Oh, hush,” Ah Jun blusters, turning red. “I’m almost finished writing this next chapter. I’ll order something and by the time you close up, we can walk out to pick it up.”“Hmmm. All right.” He pats his pocket and feels the crinkle of the receipt he’d come up for. “Catch you in a few hours then.”Ah Jun purses his mouth disagreeably, but his eyes glint with humor. “Tell Lan she’s a saint to put up with you.”“Oh, I have. Twice today, at least.” He pats Ah Jun’s bottom and heads for the stairs. It hadn’t been too busy when he ducked up here twenty minutes ago—hopefully the bookshop hasn’t become swamped since then. “Order something good!”“Yes, husband,” is the longsuffering response. Quanzi bites back a smile and takes the stairs down to the ground floor two at a time. |
11146977 | Hold On vid | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Ravi Chakrabarti, Major Lilywhite, Liv Moore",
"Fandom": "iZombie (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by KaitoKuroiRico",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-08T00:00:00",
"words": "0",
"Additional Tags": "Angst and Feels, but with kind of potential happy ending? xD",
"Relationship": "Ravi Chakrabarti/Major Lilywhite",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
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"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | |
11136681 | Tears Idle Tears | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by rainbowgoddess",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "1999-08-02T00:00:00",
"words": "1,723",
"Additional Tags": "Drama, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Slash, Episode Related",
"Relationship": "Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
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"Collections": "Due South Archive",
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} | Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine and I don't make any money from
them.
Rating: PG, m/m. h/c slash
Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski
Feedback to:
Tears, Idle Tears
by Iris Gray
------------
Oh, dear.
Ray was crying.
Ben looked away. He looked at his hands. He tried to ignore
Ray. He thought that perhaps Ray would not want anyone to see
him cry.
But he couldn't ignore Ray. Ray was his friend, and he was in
pain. He couldn't just sit there and do nothing. But what
could he do?
"Ray," he said softly. No response. "Ray?" The sobbing
continued. Had it only been two days ago that he had stopped
Ray from shooting a suspect who had stolen Ray's gun by simply
saying "Look at me?"
Ben reached out and tentatively placed a hand on Ray's
shoulder. He felt a marginal relaxation in response. He
carefully put his arm all the way around his partner's
shoulders. Ray leaned into him. Fraser put his other arm
around his partner, always alert for any indication that his
attention was not welcome. He gently drew Ray into his
embrace, and Ray leaned his head on Fraser's shoulder.
Ray was not entirely sure what he was doing. All he had
*meant* to do was take Beth Botrelle home. Then he had ended
up touring the former crime scene with her. He had hoped that
doing so would exorcise some of the demons that had plagued
him since the night eight years ago when he had found Jake
Botrelle dead. When Beth thanked him - thanked him! He had
nearly gotten her killed and she had *thanked* him! - he felt
himself beginning to lose it. He managed to make it to his
car, and of course Fraser was there, as he had been throughout
the two days of madness leading to Beth's exoneration in the
death of her husband. He thought to himself, *It's all over
now. I can take Fraser back to the consulate, and I can go
home. * But he didn't even start the car. He put his head down
on the steering wheel and the dam broke. He couldn't stop
crying.
Then he felt Fraser's hand on his shoulder. At first he didn't
pay much attention to it. Then he felt Fraser's arms go around
him. He leaned into his friend's embrace and rested his head
on his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind floated the
thought, *I am crying on Fraser's shoulder. He has his arms
around me. Should this be happening? Should I be letting it
happen?* He ignored it. He was in too much pain to care, too
much pain to think. All he wanted was to feel, and right now
Fraser's arms around him felt good. He'd think about it later.
Fraser was holding Ray in his arms. He was uncertain how to
proceed from here. He'd never held a man in his arms before,
and very few women. He found himself awkwardly stroking Ray's
hair. He smiled slightly. Ray's hair. Ray had once described
it as "experimental" which was typical of Ray's habit of self-
deprecation. He liked Ray's hair. He knew that the detective
had tried in vain to control it and had finally given up in
frustration. Ben thought it was attractive. *Whoops. Where did
/that/ thought come from? Ignore it, Benton* he told himself.
*Ray does not feel that way about you even if you feel that
way about him.*
Eventually, Ray's sobs quieted. He hiccuped a few times and
took a few deep breaths. He didn't move out of Fraser's arms
right away. He admitted to himself that he liked the way the
Mountie's arms felt around him. He felt comfortable and safe.
And, well, he felt something else, too. Uh-oh. He hadn't
expected *that.* He carefully sat up, away from Fraser, and
hoped his friend didn't see the bulge in his trousers. *This
is perfectly natural* he tried to convince himself. *No one
has touched me in a long time, and this is my body reacting,
that's all.*
And then he thought, *Yeah, right. Admit it, Kowalski, you're
attracted to the Mountie.* Not that he would ever actually
/tell/ Fraser that. No way, no how, no sir. He'd jump off
another ship first.
"Are you all right, Ray?" asked Fraser.
Ray rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Thanks, Fraser."
He started the car, then turned back to Fraser. "Uh, Fraser? I
don't - I don't really want to be alone right now. Would you,
uh, like to come over to my place for awhile?"
"Certainly, Ray."
"I don't have any bark tea."
"Understood, Ray."
"And I'm still a slob."
"I didn't think that had changed in the last two days, Ray."
"Okay, so long as ya know what to expect."
Yes, Fraser knew what to expect. Or rather, what not to
expect. He knew not to expect that Ray would want anything
other than his company, someone to discuss the Botrelle case
with. That was all.
*Damn, what am I getting myself into?* thought Ray. *Why did I
just ask Fraser to come home with me? I must be insane.* But
who else would he ask? Stella? Not likely. Fraser was his
friend. Even if he wasn't likely to be anything more than a
friend, Ray was grateful for his friendship. Of course, if Ray
couldn't control his hormones, there was the possibility of
losing Fraser's friendship. The mere thought immediately
dampened Ray's ardour.
Once inside his apartment, Ray was unable to relax. He
couldn't sit still. He paced restlessly. Fraser watched him.
Just watching Ray could make a person tired.
"Ray, perhaps you would be more comfortable if you sat down,"
Fraser suggested.
*Yeah, right, comfortable sitting next to Fraser?* thought
Ray. His body would give him away in a minute. *Nope, can't
sit anywhere /near/ him.* Most of the time he was able to
control his feelings around the Mountie. But tonight was
different. He had made himself vulnerable. He had allowed
Fraser to get close. Few people were close to Ray Kowalski.
Stella had been close once, but was no longer. Now, suddenly,
Benton Fraser was here. So close. Ray could reach out and
touch him if he wanted to. And he wanted to. But he wouldn't.
He wouldn't risk losing Fraser.
His reverie was interrupted by Fraser's voice. "Ray, you do
realize that you are pacing?" said the Mountie.
"Yeah, Fraser, I realize that I'm pacing. Why are you watchin'
me, anyway?"
Fraser gulped. How was he supposed to answer that question? He
was no good at lying. He covered for it by allowing people to
assume that it was a Mountie thing, like Dudley Do-Right from
that American cartoon; 'Mounties don't lie.' But Mounties were
human beings like anyone else. Mounties lied. Benton Fraser
didn't lie. He couldn't lie if he wanted to. Unfortunately,
now he wanted to. He couldn't exactly say, 'Because I find you
very attractive, Ray,' now, could he? "I am simply concerned
for your well-being, Ray." *Please be satisfied with that*.
"My well-being? You mean, ya wanna make sure I'm okay?" asked
Ray, puzzled.
"Yes, Ray. You have had a very stressful few days. Have you
even eaten anything today?" *There, I've changed the subject*
thought Fraser.
Ray laughed. "It's not like I've never gone without food
before, Fraser. Ya don't need ta worry about me."
"Ray, going without food, and, from all indications, without
sleep, as you have for the past several days, is not healthy."
"Dammit, Fraser, don't mother me! I'm fine, okay?" Ray
shouted. *Oh sh*t. Did I really just yell at Fraser?* The look
on Fraser's face said he had. Hurt and confusion were obvious.
It wasn't like Fraser could hide his feelings. But if that was
the case - what exactly was Fraser feeling, then? Hurt, yes.
That was to be expected, since his closest friend had just
yelled at him for no reason. Confusion, ditto. But was there
something else? *No, there can't be. I'm imagining it. I
haveta be. He can't feel about me the way I feel about him.
Why would he?*
"Ray." There was Fraser's voice again. "Ray? Ray?"
"Yeah, Frase? What is it?"
"I was just saying that perhaps it would be best if I left
now, and allowed you to get some rest."
*NO! He can't leave now. I don't want him to leave. Not like
this. Not after I yelled at him and basically told him to go
to h*ll.* "Naw, Fraser, really, I'm okay. You don't haveta
leave." He knelt in front of the couch, facing his partner.
"I'm sorry I yelled at ya, Frase. I'm not used to other people
caring how I feel. I don't even know *why* ya care so much."
Oh, dear. There was another unanswerable question. "Why do I
care? I care because you are my friend, Ray." *Why do I get
the feeling he isn't going to be satisfied with that answer?*
Ray put both his hands on Fraser's knees. "Am I *just* your
friend, Fraser? Is that all I am to you?" he asked, unable to
keep the plaintive note out of his voice. He realized that he
was crying again.
Fraser reached out and wiped the tears from Ray's face. "No,
Ray. You are more than just my friend. So much more."
"Frase?"
"Yes, Ray?"
"Wouldya mind if - if - I kissed ya?"
"I would mind if you did not kiss me, Ray."
And Fraser's arms were around him once more, and Fraser was
holding him, and this time there was nothing tentative about
it, as the strong arms held him tightly and their lips met for
the first time.
"Frase?" said Ray when he came up for air.
"Yes, Ray?"
"I think I love you."
Fraser smiled. "I think I love you, too, Ray."
End
"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean.
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather in the eyes
In looking on the happy autumn fields
And thinking of the days that are no more."
--Lord Tennyson, "The Princess"
"Cry if you want to
I won't tell you not to
I won't try to cheer you up
I'll just be here if you want me to."
--- Holly Cole Trio, "Cry if You Want To", |
11131686 | Like You Mean It | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Caitlin Todd, Jethro Gibbs",
"Fandom": "NCIS",
"Language": "English",
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"author": "by onekisstotakewithme",
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} | #2-“
pulling back just for a second to try to regain control before realizing they don’t want to be in control and diving back in”
She had crashed into him and it had cost nearly everything in him to not kiss her, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. She was so beautiful, God help him, and he’d leaned in to kiss her, to fully embrace her, the way he should have months before, the way he should have the day he hired her. It had taken a submarine, an emergency blow, and three months to get to this point, but when he leaned in and brushed his lips against her, she’d frozen, and he’d panicked inside, before she melted into him, and goddamn he knew he was doing the right thing.She pulled away for a second, his name breathless on her lips. He could see that she wrestling with her own mind, fighting an internal battle with the code of conduct, with the unspoken rule of agents not being involved with each other.And then she shook her head, cupping his face in her hands and leaning back in, pressing her lips to his desperately, a white flag, a truce, relinquishing the control to him. As he kissed her back, he knew he was doing the right thing- for once. And yet he was astonished that after dreaming for so long of Caitlin Todd, pressed against him, lips against his, here she was. And it wasn’t a dream.
#5- “that moment where the world just stops and A stares into B’s eyes and they know they shouldn’t, but they kiss anyway”
He was running towards her, surrounded by members of the FBI, surrounded by federal agents of the whole alphabet, his own team lost in the shuffle, and then she was in his arms.She was alive, and well, except for a split lip that he looked over worriedly. He was examining her with his eyes, praying to a God he didn’t even believe in that she was okay, terrified of losing her. He’d spent the day searching for her, because God help him, he loved her.How could he have been so foolish to not tell her before now? His search for Ari had consumed him, enveloped him until Kate was no longer his priority. Rule 12 had turned him into a fool, but he would gladly trade away each and every one of his rules to make sure she stayed alive and in his arms.She was staring up into his eyes, and he was sure that it was written all over his face. She was looking into his eyes, brown into blue, and he could read what she was thinking. It hit him then that however he felt for her, she loved him too. There were people rushing all around, and now sirens in the distance, but he couldn’t care less. His world had shrunken down to the woman in front of him. She smiled, and he knew it had to hurt, with her split lip. He ran a thumb gently over her lip, unable to stop himself.They shouldn’t.Gibbs reached down, gently cupping her face in his hands, and then brushed his lips against hers, feeling her go weak at the knees- perhaps from the shock and relief of being found- and it didn’t matter that they were surrounded by other people. And besides, he had always enjoyed doing things he shouldn’t do. And from the way she responded, he knew she enjoyed it too.
#8- “foreheads pressed into each others’, sharing breath, until they dive back in for more because they thought they were done but they so were not.”
It was her who had initiated it that time, her lips sweet and slick with the bourbon, and now here they were. He was holding her up against the boat, his pride and joy, and she was warm and smiling and slightly drunk, but then so was he. Drunk Kate was something he enjoyed seeing, and he thought it a privilege, a miracle that she was even there.Kate in his basement was something he was not used to, and that was something he couldn’t stop being amazed about. She loved him. She enjoyed spending time with him.They had stopped, her forehead leaned against his, breathing in and out together, and she was looking into his eyes. Her eyes were brown, and deep, but full of an unguarded love that she would never reveal to him while sober. He could never mind that she only showed this side in private. It was something he couldn’t bear to share with the team.“God, Katie,” he murmured breathlessly, “Do ya know what ya do to me?”She grinned. “I have some idea,” she said, nudging her hips against him.And even though he thought it was over, it apparently was never over. She reached for him, at the same time he reached down, their lips meeting in the middle, reaching the same agreement, the same conclusion: they were trouble, and damn it, they loved it.
10- “the desperate pant/groan of surrender when either party knows that they are sooooooo done”
He had had enough.They were undercover, and she was so damn tantalizing in that dress, a seductive smile on her lips as she beckoned to him, that he could almost pretend it wasn’t real.He could pretend that he usually spent time frolicking in hotel rooms with Special Agent Caitlin Todd.His mouth was dry as he watched her, and she raised her eyebrows at him, “Something bothering you, Jethro?”His lips curved into an answering smirk as he walked over to her, “Now Katie, I think we both know the answer to that.”She reached up, her hands on the back of his head, pulling him into a desperate, needy kiss, as his hands frantically worked at the zipper of her dress, wanting her desperately. She kissed him like she hadn’t seen him in months, like she couldn’t bear to not have him pressed against her for another second, her mouth open to his, and she tilted her hips dangerously close to him, her entire body warm and welcoming to him, and he swore to God that this was quite possibly the best moment of his life-She pulled away, and then smirked again as he groaned helplessly. “Something wrong?” she asked innocently.“Come back here, damn it!” he said.“Are you prepositioning me, Jethro?”“Come here,” he pleaded, knowing that he would quite possibly never live down the groan, that had somehow escaped his lips in the heat of the moment.“If you insist,” there was a grin on her face as she obliged. |
11118786 | They Messed With Wrong | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Tony Stark, Bruce Wayne, Iron Man, Batman, Nick Fury, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanova, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by larry_evak",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-07T00:00:00",
"words": "1,254",
"Additional Tags": "Team Iron Man, BAMF Tony Stark, BAMF Bruce Wayne, Not Steve Friendly, Not Wanda Friendly, Not Natasha Friendly, Not Clint Friendly, not team Cap friendly, Billionaire husbands, Husbands, Rich - Freeform, listen to nick fury, Team Cap is Stupid, dont mess with stark-waynes, Nick Fury Knows All, Tony Stark Feels, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Tony Stark",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne, Nick Fury & Avengers Team",
"Series": "Billionaire Husbands",
"Collections": "Team Tony Stark, Best, Team Cap FanFiction Bashing, Random Marvel Ships, Tony Stark",
"Fandoms": "The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Batman (Movies - Nolan)",
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} | They didn’t see it coming, Stark kicking them out. He didn’t kick them out per se, he just stuck 100k as rent on them. Cheers.They can’t even say that blasted 100k was too much because to be frank it was not. Their salaries didn’t touch that figure though. Something needed to be done. So they decided to go to the only person who might be able to intimidate Stark to drop his whiney diney selfish act. Wanda’s situation was another problem. That stupid collar was inhumane. Even Steve’s strength failed against it. What. The. Heck? After some time they realized it was made from fucking Vibranium. How. The. Heck? The only way to remove it might just do what Stark said. A tough pill to swallow. For now they were meeting with Director Fury to discuss what they can do about the Stark Situation. They decided to let Steve do the talking.~*~“Thank you Director for meeting us on such a short notice.”“No need for such pleasantries Captain. What do you need?”“We have come to talk to you about Tony’s erratic behavior. He is being influenced by the Batman and now he had asked us to pay ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND Dollars as rent and did this to Wanda.” Steve pointed towards Wanda.“What? Batman? Captain elaborate.”“His husband, Bruce Wayne is Batman. He is the one who suggested collar for Wanda and manipulated Tony into charge rent for the Compound. I am worried about him. That why I need your help in containing Batman so that I can assume command without interruptions.”“Hmm… This explains things. Wayne is Batman. Who saw that coming, that sly bastard. Only Stark would go and marry Batman. And I know Stark won’t be this cruel. He must have given some out for Wanda. So what is the problem again? And didn’t he make you sign NDAs?“Uhhh… He said Professor Xavier will decide when to let her out… Director, Tony is getting out of hand! We need to do something. To be frank your attitude towards the situation is insulting. Don’t you care at all?”“I don’t see anything wrong with the situation Cap. Compound is a property of Stark so he gets to do what he wants and 100k? You got a good deal. Your inability to afford that is a different matter. As for that collar? Nobody is going to stop Stark on that. Maximoff is a liability now. Before making that collar Stark had gotten the approval of the Government. Yes, I knew about the collar. As you said it will be removed on the decision of Xavier. Meaning she has to go the school of Mutants where she will learn to control her powers. Now tell me, did you or did you not sign the NDA?”“Yes we did. But it doesn’t matter! This is Batman we are talking about.”“And I assume you are planning to tell the world about it?”“He had threatened Natasha but he has nothing incriminating on me. So yes I will go public. The truth will come out and Natasha will be shielded. A win-win.” The others also nodded their consent.Fury rolled his eyes and said, “Do you have any idea how stupid you sound? Do you know whom you are pitting against? Let me tell you what will happen. There are three possible outcomes. You tell the world and people will accept it and move on. Or if people react badly, Wayne will either prove you wrong and might even slap a defamation lawsuit and make you look like idiots or if he can’t prove you wrong he will charm the world into loving him as Stark had done before with the Iron Man AND slap a lawsuit for breaching the NDA. Take your pick. In all the cases you lose.Wayne and Stark, they are the guys who have lunches with President every six months. They are way beyond you. They have a horde of professionals with expertise in Public Relations backing them. They are the billionaires. Gotham loves the Batman after he saved them from the nuke, the Joker and what not. Superman will vouch for him so will Wonder Woman, the Flash and all of the League. The world loves Bruce Wayne despite everything. But you? Not so much right now. Nigeria is still fresh in everyone’s minds. Don’t forget you and Natasha had leaked all the SHIELD’ data. Both of you survived because of Stark’s lawyers. And Clint you? Nobody cares about you, to be honest. You don’t make headlines. Not many know you. Heck, Green Arrow is more loved. Wilson? Also irrelevant. A piece of advice Wilson, you love your wings? They are SI tech. They can be snatched away before you know it. Let us just not talk about Wanda. So just drop it.”This was getting out of hand. They should not have let Steve do the talking. What a mess. This is ridiculous. But nothing to worry. Natasha still has one card up her sleeve. Now its time for her to talk.“Did you know that Stark has stolen the Vibranium from Wakanda? This has political disaster written all over it.” Natasha smirked.“Did you know how Stark survived Palladium poisoning? He synthesized Vibranium. In his fucking lab. So in a few years Vibranium will be out in the market under a joint venture between Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises if the talks I hear is correct. Do you understand its implications? Stark and Wayne have more political power than you realize and it is bound to increase. So the Government won’t care if Wayne is Batman if they want their hands on Vibranium.”“I don’t think Wakanda will approve.” Steve interjected.“Do you really think US will care? Wakanda has very little standing in the international politics. The only thing they had over the rest of the countries was Vibranium which they did not sell, mind you. Wakanda is a closed off country. They are entitled to their decision and the rest of the world tries to butter them up in hopes to get their hands on Vibranium but they won’t do so anymore. Now Wakanda will be a market. Nobody is gonna care if Wakanda approves or not. So no, Natasha. That political disaster won’t happen. The world knows Stark and Wayne. They have saved it. The world owes to them. Nobody owes Wakanda anything. This sounds harsh but it is a reality. So drop it.” “What are we supposed to do then?” Sam spoke up for the first time.“Actually you messed with the wrong people. I guess you forgot Stark was known as Merchant of Death and his husband is fucking Batman. A deadly combination. Don’t aggravate them anymore. What you can do is to get Wanda enrolled at the Mutant’ school. As for your living situation, you are on your own. If you can convince the Government to buy the Compound then… that might be something. Otherwise… there is nothing you can do.” With that said Fury got up and left the Avengers. He had not anticipated them to be this stupid. After their talk they may finally realize whom they have messed with. Hopefully.As for the Avengers, this was quite a blow to their ego. This was a disaster. And apparently Fury is #TeamRichDudes. What has the world come to? Maybe Bruce Banner or James Rhodes will listen. Rhodey will have the most effect. Next stop, James Rhodes.~*~ |
11182719 | Into the Woods Mystery | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Norman Babcock, Courtney Babcock, Perry Babcock, Sandra Babcock, Mike Wheeler, Michael Wheeler, Eleven (Stranger Things), Demogorgon (Stranger Things), Will Byers, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Gregory (Over the Garden Wall), Gregory's Frog | Jason Funderberker, Wirt (Over the Garden Wall), Coraline Jones, Wybourne \"Wybie\" Lovat, The Other Mother, the unkown (over the garden wall), Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Grunkle Stan | Stanley \"Stanford\" Pines, Bill Cipher, \"Lazy\" Susan Wentworth, Jesus \"Soos\" Alzamirano Ramirez, Waddles (Gravity Falls)",
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"author": "by theinksplotch",
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"published": "2017-06-12T00:00:00",
"words": "4,942",
"Additional Tags": "Crossover, Multiple Crossovers, POV Multiple, seriously theres so much stuff in this oml",
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} | Chapter 1: Norman (Visions) Norman doesn’t really get nightmares. He’s always sort of figured he was immune to stuff like that—one of the very, very few perks of being able to see and communicate with dead people on the daily. How scary can his dreams be, when his reality saw him fighting off a pilgrim zombie apocalypse and still having to go to school the next day?—now that was a real nightmare (he’d failed a geometry test that day, Selma never let him hear the end of it). It had only been three weeks ago, when the nightmares started.At the time, Norman Babcock thought nothing of it. He was a 14 year old boy, after all - he lived and breathed horror movies, and not just the terrible 80's ones either. The terrible new ones, too - he didn't judge. For him, having a dream about Dracula chasing him around or an evil clown trying to eat him was just as normal as anything.Which is why he didn't realize they were more than just scary dreams until it was too late.His dreams weren't bad at first; just endless woods. Large trees for miles and miles, zooming by like Norman was watching on a television screen, rather than actually being there. But then they started to feel...real. Too real. Norman could feel the breeze on his skin, hear the crunch of leaves under his shoes as he walked.And in time, he discovered that the woods were not a quiet place. The trees grew faces and tried to whisper things in his ears. Their branches snagged on his clothes like they were trying to grab ahold of him. But that wasn't all. There were things...things lurking in the shadows. And Norman could never see them until it was too late, until he was being devoured, or choked, or driven into madness. And that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was when Norman woke up, never remembering what the monsters looked like, only the feeling of dread and fear that stayed with him all day. At night, he was afraid to sleep, and during the day he was jumpy and nervous. Every shadow Norman saw, he was sure there was something lurking in it, waiting for the right moment to attack; every time he was alone, he could feel a little prickle on the back of his neck, like somebody was watching him. Even the ghosts seemed on edge. They didn't walk around town as much anymore, and they shied away whenever Norman tried to talk to them."There's a shadow over this town, Norman," his grandma told him grimly when he mentioned it to her."What do you mean?" He'd asked. For some reason, the fact that even his fearless ghost grandmother seemed a bit paranoid sent all his hairs standing on end."There's something...here. I don't know what it is, but its here. And its getting bigger and bigger by the second. I can feel it. We all can."Norman figured his parents must've felt it too, because one day, they randomly called him and his sister into the Babcock living room."I think we could all use sometime out of Blithe Hollow," his mother said, glancing worriedly at him. "So we're going to visit your aunt Susan in Gravity Falls, Oregon!"Courtney was not happy about that (she'd never been one for being trapped in a car with her family for more than an hour). "You're kidding, right? That's like, on the other side of the country!""No, we're not kidding," Norman's dad said, not sounding very happy about it himself. "So get packing. We're leaving as soon as possible."Norman hadn't said anything about it. For all he knew, maybe taking a family road trip would clear his head.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 2: Mike (Frequency) Meanwhile, back in 1984..."Michael Wheeler, why aren't you packed? We're leaving tomorrow!"Mike stared at the empty suitcase his mother was holding out to him and groaned. This was it. The thing he'd been dreading since the last day of school. Every summer for the past 2 years, his family took a trip to some cushy cabin in the woods of Oregon for quote, unquote--family bonding. It was the closest thing to a tradition the Wheelers had."Mom, do I have to go? I can just stay at Dustin's house or something."His mother sighed, and Mike knew what was coming. "Honey, are you sure you're okay? You know you can talk to me."The boy glanced at the fort he had refused to take down for almost a whole year. Her fort. He didn't want to talk about it. "Mom, I'm fine, okay? I…I just don't feel like going this year.""Well if you're okay, then you're going," his mother said firmly, already heading back up the basement stairs. "Go up to your room and start packing, please."And then she was gone. Mike sighed and collapsed onto the basement couch. He had this stupid idea that if he kept telling people he was okay, then he would start to believe it too. But then he would remember the way she looked the last time he saw her. How sad, and sick her face was, that broken look in her eyes; and he would realize he probably wasn't ever gonna be okay. 'Goodbye, Mike', she'd said. Why did she have to go and say it like that? Even now, he could still remember the sound of her voice as she uttered the words; a broken whisper. Mike covered his ears, like that would stop him from hearing a voice that had been permanently etched into his memory. Goodbye, Mike. Like she'd be gone forever. And maybe...maybe she would be, but he didn't want to think about it. Mike knew he wasn’t the only one who missed her; Lucas and Dustin were sad she was gone too, but Mike didn’t think they blamed themselves for her being gone, didn’t think they had trouble saying her name, not like he did. Because Mike was the one who'd made her a promise, and Mike was the one who'd broken it. Not them. But he knew that didn't mean that they weren't affected by what had happened.Will still had nightmares about it.Or maybe they were called...Daymares? Mike didn't know. He just knew that they happened during the day, when Will was awake. Like, one minute he was regular Will Byers, arguing with Dustin about which series was better: The Amazing Spiderman or Spectacular Spiderman, but then he would...change. His eyes would glaze over, and he would shake and scream. No amount of yelling from the other boys would make him snap out of it. He'd scream until he fainted. And he'd wake up a minute later, looking like he did when they had first pulled him from the Upsidedown, barely alive."I'm fine," he'd say, trying to smile, because he's Will Byres, and Mike and Dustin and Lucas, even Joyce all knew he was tired of being treated like a baby, even though that's exactly what he needed.And Dustin wasn't eating much anymore.Mike remembered when he'd noticed it for the first time: it was Taco Tuesday that day, aka Dustin's favorite day of the week. But he hadn't even showed up for lunch. Afterwards, Dustin made up some story about having to make up a math test, and they'd all believed him. But then he stopped going to lunch all together. Nobody really realized what was up with him at first, but it soon began clear to them as Dustin's baby fat started to melt off more and more with each week. It was like...he'd lost his appetite, not just for tacos, but for everything, all at once, which is something Mike thought would never happen. They were all worried about him, but every time Lucas tried to say something about it, Dustin would brush him off. "Dude, your just jealous that I'm gonna be getting all the ladies pretty soon," he'd say, and then two of them would start to bicker, previous topic forgotten.And Lucas was very good at hiding whatever he was trying to hide, because Mike didn't even think anything was wrong until a few weeks ago when the four of them went to Lucas's house to hang out. They went up to Lucas's room, to discover the entire space barren of everything except a bed and a dresser. The posters that had previously lined the walls were gone, the boxes of comic books that had been sitting in the corner of the room where nowhere to be seen. Even the Star Wars bedsheets were gone, replaced with plain ones."You moving or something?" Mike asked."No," Lucas said. "I just wanted to live in the real world for a change." That day he hadn't really seemed into their conversations the way he usually was, and when they were discussing conspiracy theories he'd snapped at them."Don't you get it?!" Lucas spat, slapping the Batman comic book out of Will's hand. "Our lives...They're made up of a bunch of lies, dammit! We were all so stupid to believe in these books - these stupid books that say we can fight evil and save the world and still come back in time for dinner and be normal! Because we did it - we fought evil! We saved the world! And - and look at us! Who's...who's gonna save us?"That's when Mike first realized Lucas was broken too.They all were.Mike looked over at her fort again. It was exactly the same as she'd left it, the radio was still propped up against the pillow, still on the same frequency she'd left it on. Mike had decided that if she ever did come back, the walkie would be all hers. She deserved it more than he ever had, after all.He walked over to it and hesitantly picked it up, tracing the buttons with the pad of his thumb. Sometimes, when he was sure nobody was around, Mike would turn it on, and he would pretend she could actually hear him; that she wasn't gone, she was only in another room, on another walkie. He would talk for as long as he could, telling her about movies that were coming out, or super heroes he thought she would like. Halloween costume ideas had come up as well - Mike promised that if...when she came back, they could be Han Solo and Princess Leia (he blushed at the thought). Sometimes, he'd just tell her about his day, things that had happened. And on the day of the Snowball, he'd sat in that fort and apologized over and over again, hoping that somehow, she could hear him. He apologized for being mad at her all those times, for not saving her the way she'd saved him so many times before, and for not taking her to that stupid school dance like he promised he would. It was stupid, of course, everything was so stupid, but it was pretty much all Mike had to cope with."Mike!" His dad called from somewhere upstairs. "Your mother said she wants you to pack."That was followed by an exasperated sigh from his mom, who had probably been hoping for actual discipline from Ted Wheeler."I know! I'm coming!" Mike called back. He started to set the walkie down, but an idea came to him. He turned it on."Hey…it's Mike…just letting you know that I'll be in Oregon for the summer, and I'm not really sure if the frequency works there…so if you don't hear from me, that’s why…"Mike glanced at the fort one more time and sighed."Over and out."He turned off the walkie and stuck it in his jacket pocket before starting up the stairs.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 4: Coraline (Nightmares) Coraline Jones hadn't the slightest idea where she was.Scratch that - she did, in a way. She was standing in an exact replica of her room, only it was dark, and cold, and it felt like every breath she took was poisoned. The furniture was covered in something slimy and disgusting. Coraline wrinkled her nose. This was not her room. But she couldn’t help but wonder: If it wasn't her room, then…what was it?She jumped when the dead silence was interrupted by a sound she knew all too well: the sound of pointy fingernails tapping, tapping, tapping against a hard surface. Coraline immediately thought of the Other Mother's hand. Just the thought of it being in the same room as her made her shudder. That’s impossible, she told herself. I...I threw it in the well. Its gone.But her resolve crumbled as the sound got closer, echoing against the walls, tapping, tapping, tapping. Coraline's breathing was getting more ragged by the second. She felt as if her lungs were ready to burst in her chest. That thought didn't help her keep calm. She frantically looked around, trying to figure out where it was, but the sound was coming from all directions, echoing in her head."I'm not scared of you," she called out, feeling very much scared. "I defeated you once, and I can do it again!"Suddenly, in a flash of metal, the twisted, disembodied hand jumped out at her, grasping Coraline's throat and squeezing. The girl made a noise that sounded like something in between a scream and a wheeze and fell to the floor, the hand latched on to her neck. Coraline clawed at it, desperate for air, but it seemed the harder she pulled, the less she could breathe.She couldn’t call for help, she couldn’t do anything. There was nobody to save her now. No smart mouthed cat, no button eyed boy. Coraline was all alone.And she was going to die.Then she heard something. The low menacing laugh of the Other Mother echoed throughout the room just as it became too painful for Coraline to breath."Coraline," its coaxed.
"Coraline…"
"Coraline!"The sound of her mother--her real mother's voice ripped her out of her nightmare. She jolted up, gasping for air, sweet, sweet air. Coraline scanned the room, making sure it was hers, and not some weird alternate dimension's. Non-slimy drapes? Check. Breathable air? Check. Coraline sighed in relief, lying back down in her bed, her own bed. This was definitely her room."It was just a dream," she mumbled to herself, remembering the twisted hand and how it choked her. Still, it all felt so…real. Her throat still burned..."Coraline! You're breakfast is getting cold!""I'll be down in a minute!" Coraline called back, trying to regain control of her heart rate. The nightmares had been getting worse lately, and she couldn’t understand why. The hand was broken at the bottom of the well, the Other Mother trapped in the other house…right? Coraline shook the thought of an alternative out of her head. Of course she'd defeated the Other Mother. She was just being paranoid. Coraline sighed, rolling out of bed and going over to her closet to get clothes. She just wished she had someone to talk to about all this. Wybie was useless - even if he did know about the Other Mother, there was still so much he didn't understand. She still hadn't really told him anything about the other Wybie for some reason.And its not like Coraline could go to her parents. What would she even say? Last fall, you guys were kidnapped and trapped in a snow globe and I saved you by defeating the evil spider lady. I chopped off her hand and locked her behind the little door and now the hand is haunting my dreams! Yay, therapy!Coraline scoffed. Yeah, like they would believe her. "Coraline!" her mother called again. The blue haired girl rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright."She quickly threw on a pair of black jeans and a navy blue T-shirt before dashing out of her room. When Coraline got to the stairs however, she slowed down, tiptoeing down each step. Usually, she could here snippets of her parents conversations, like what she was going get for her birthday (it was next month). But today, she heard something awful."…should probably get packing soon," her mother was saying. "We need to leave before tomorrow.""We'll break the news to Coraline as soon as she comes down," her father agreed.Coraline frowned. What were they talking about? Where were they going? She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp as she realized what was happening. Were they…moving?! Before she knew what she was doing, Coraline was already running downstairs, yelling the whole way."We can't move! Are you kidding me!? I'm just starting to like it here! And summer just started! I refuse to leave this house, you're gonna have to drag my cold, dead--""Woah, slow down kiddo," her dad interrupted. "Who said we were moving?"Coraline stopped mid yell and narrowed her eyes."Then what was all that talk about packing and 'breaking the news to Coraline'?" she said, making air quotes with her fingers. She was met with blank stares. And then something weird happened. Her uptight, flower cataloging parents started…laughing. Confusion flooded Coraline's mind. "Am I missing something here?" she asked, tilting her head all the way to the side (she'd only started doing it to tease the black cat, but it had sorta become a habit)."Yes, actually. You are," her mother said, wiping a tear from her eye."We're not moving, Coraline. You're mother and I just got word about these strange unknown plants and--" her dad started."We've been chosen to catalog them," her mother interrupted. "We're all taking a trip to Gravity Falls!"Gravity Falls, huh? Coraline had never heard of the place, but it sounded interesting enough."And," her dad continued, only to be interrupted once again. "We talked to Wybie's grandmother and she said be could come along," her mother finished. Coraline's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked in disbelief. She didn’t know Mrs. Lovat all that well, but she did know one thing: the old woman was very protective over her grandson. Coraline remembered when she had first moved into the Pink Palace a few months back. Every time Wybie so much as went in the direction of the apartment complex, Mrs. Lovat would be there, calling his name. She did have a good reason for it, considering the Other Mother had been at large at the time, but Coraline still found it very hard to believe that she would let precious little Wybourne out of her sight. Her parents both nodded, and the blue haired girl grinned. They were going on a trip and Wybie could come along? Her parents really had come through! She ran up to them and hugged them both."Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her father ruffled her hair. "Thank the flowers, kiddo."Her mother picked up Coraline's plate of cold eggs and bacon and put it into the microwave. "Okay now wash up, Coraline. You're neck is filthy."She nodded and dashed over to the restroom. She had to start packing! She had to tell Wybie! Coraline turned the light on in the restroom and checked the mirror to locate the dirt on her neck. But what she saw wasn’t dirt. Her breath hitched in her throat as her shaking fingers traced the bruises on her neck; long, crooked bruises that curved around it, claiming it. Coraline backed away from the mirror, Gravity Falls dispersed from her thoughts. Maybe she was imagining it, but Coraline could almost hear the twisted hand, tapping, tapping, tapping away.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 5: Norman (Danger) Norman made the mistake of falling asleep during the car ride to Gravity Falls. His dreams were a blur of nightmarish images; a strange puzzle, an eye, a locked door, a person engulfed in branches. He woke up in a cold sweat. "Norman, honey. Are you okay?" his mother asked. He could see her eyeing him worriedly through the review mirror."Uh-huh," Norman managed to choke out, running a nervous hand through his shock of brown hair. "We're almost there, you can take a nap at your Aunt Susan's."Next to him, Courtney groaned. They'd been cooped up in the family station wagon for three days (not to mention been forced to stay at several disgusting motels and truck stops) and she wasn’t exactly the life of the party when she was bored. "You said that, like, 300 times already, mom!""I know, honey," their mother said, sounding quite tired herself.Courtney groaned again and slumped in her seat. Meanwhile, Norman turned to look out of his window, staring blankly at the trees zooming by. Just like in his nightmares. Now that he was looking at them, they looked exactly like the trees in his nightmares, but he was too tired to make any sort of connection between the two. Norman sighed and pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He just didn’t understand where they had come from, or why he was still having them. He'd even stopped watching horror movies all together, which was the equivalent of a regular person quitting breathing. Norman was in desperate need of a cheesy zombie movie, right now. But he just...couldn't. He was just so tired... Norman's eyes started to feel heavy. Maybe just one little nap…Danger, somebody whispered in his ear. Danger, Danger."Its about freaking time!" Norman jerked up, hitting his head on the car ceiling. "W-what happened? Where are we?"The fact that Courtney actually looked worried about him - even if it was only for a split second - freaked Norman out, but she managed to cover it up with an eye roll. "Where do you think?" She jabbed a perfectly manicured finger at the window nearest to him. Norman looked out of the window again, rubbing the spot on his head that had hit the ceiling. They were driving through the streets of a small town. Gravity Falls, he guessed. Well, that was quick. It had only seemed like a few seconds since Norman fell asleep. The town seemed nice enough, the streets lined with little stores and businesses. It was around early morning at the time, the sun barely showing itself in the sky. People - the early risers - walked about the sidewalks on either side of the street. A pair of dorky looking cops sat in their car drinking out of to-go cups. Just another regular, boring town. Norman took comfort in that. No zombie apocalypse had ever happened here, he thought. But for some reason he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread, like someone, or rather something was watching him. Norman tried to think of something else. I'm just being paranoid, he told himself. But no matter how much he repeated this in his head, there was still some part of him that had alarms going off. Danger, danger!
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 6: Mable (Family) "Wendy…I feel the same way," Dipper mumbled in his sleep, hugging his pillow like it was his true love. Mable stifled a giggle as she placed a spoon on the rim of his hat. They were settled in the Mystery Shack gift shop, Dipper snoring at the old-timey cash register. They were supposed to be working - Grunkle Stan made them get up at 5 in the morning in order to get the Mystery Shack ready for 'those idiots who take sleeping in for granted' as Stan liked to call them. That was two hours ago. Now, they were just waiting for tourists to show up. Well, Mable and Soos were. Dipper was sleeping."Dude, we just put like, 23 spoons on your brother's head," Soos whispered. "That’s gotta be a world record or something."Mable giggled. If it was a world record, Dipper would be famous! And even better, she'd be famous by association!"We should take pictures of this momentous occasion," she agreed, grinning. Mable ran through shop and u the creaky old stairs to the room she and Dipper shared to grab her camera."Come on, Waddles," she called to the chubby pink pig lounging on her bed, happily chewing on one of Dipper's shirts. The pig oinked and hopped off the bed, following her down the stairs where Soos was waiting. Mable set up the camera and went over to sleeping Dipper. "Silly faces!" she whisper shouted.*click*"Sassy faces!" Soos said.*click*"Oink, oink!" That was Waddles. Mable and Soos pretended to be pigs as the camera took their picture again. The rosy cheeked girl giggled. She really did love her little family: Dipper and all of his dorky quirks. Soos, who'd become sort if like an older brother to her. Wacky Grunkle Stan and his crazy schemes. Waddles, her precious baby and partner in crime. And Wendy, the cool, older sister who gave great advice. They were all kind of weird, but they all fit perfectly together like some kind of weirdo puzzle. She could ask for nothing more in life. Well, she could use a boyfriend, but that was beside the point. Mable didn’t want anything to ever change for her little family."Why is it that every time I leave to use the bathroom for an hour, you kids stop working?" Grunkle Stan asked loudly, barging into the room wearing nothing but a tank top and his boxer shorts. And judging by how loud his voice was at the moment, he hadn't turned on his hearing aid, either. The sound seemed to wake up Sleeping Dorky. The spoons clattered to the floor as Dipper jumped out of his seat."Wendy Pines," he sputtered. Mable laughed. Just then, Wendy walked in, late for work, as usual."Waddup, dudes," she said, leaning against the door frame, that days tabloid tucked under her arm."What? Nothing's up! W-we were just, doing nothing!" Dipper squeaked, his face red. Mable stifled a giggle, sharing a sneaky look with Soos."Dipper's a weirdo faces!" she shouted.*click*"That one's definitely going in the scrapbook," she said, taking the final polaroid photo out of her camera and shaking it."W-what the heck, guys!" Dipper complained, causing Mable and Soos to laugh."Alright, enough talk about Dipper's issues. Or else we'll be here all day," Grunkle Stan interrupted. "Now its time to cheat some tourists! Who's with me?!""Yeah!" Dipper, Mable, Wendy, and Soos shouted together.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 7: Coraline (Nothing to See Here) Coraline pressed her face to the car window, squinting to see something, anything even slightly interesting in the distance. "I spy…a tree.""Come on, Jonesy," Wybie told her. "You already said that one."Coraline turned to face her friend so that he could see her roll her eyes. "Well do you see anything else, Whywereyouborn?"They'd been driving for about 4 hours and she was starting to get antsy.Wybie only laughed in response, shaking his head as if to say 'Oh, Coraline. What am I going to do with you?' before turning to look out the window. Coraline looked out of her own window and studied her friend through the corner of her eye. He sat hunched over, his gloved hands constantly moving; drumming on the window, tugging at his curly hair, rustling through the many pockets of his trench coat. He could never just sit still. He was still the same annoying Wybie he'd been since the day they first met, but things were different now. They were...friends. Best friends, even. They'd become quite close over the past year, her, Wybie, and the black cat. They'd camped out in the garden of the Pink Palace (although Wybie chickened out half way through the night and had to go home), and they'd spent a lot of time exploring the woods around the apartments, taking painfully embarrassing pictures on Wybie's old camera. Whywereyouborn - among other rude nicknames - was a term of endearment on her part, although she would never willingly admit it to him. She vaguely wondered if Jonesy was too. As far as she was concerned, it was. Whenever Wybie called her by that stupid nickname, little bubbles of warmth burst in her chest, making her feel all...happy. It was annoying to think that Wybourn Lovat could make her feel like that. But she sure was glad he was coming to Gravity Falls with her."I spy…" Wybie started. "A sign! Jonesy look!"Coraline unbuckled her seatbelt - earning a 'Coraline Jones!' from both of her parents - and scooted over to Wybie's side of the backseat. Sure enough, there was a sign a little ways ahead, just close enough so that Coraline could read the words."Gravity Falls," she read aloud. "Nothing to see here."Well that sounded suspicious. She looked at Wybie, who gave her a lopsided grin."Looks like we made it, Jonesy." Coraline glanced away from him, her face suddenly warm. Stupid Wybie and his stupid smile."I-it does look that way, Whywereyouborn."As they zoomed passed the sign, Coraline felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She spun around to look out the back window, and what she saw gave her a mini heart attack. There was a girl standing in the shadows cast by the Gravity Falls sign. Coraline could just make out the curly hair atop her head and the raggedy pink dress that hung off her body before she blinked, and the girl was gone. |
11142324 | the Day You Left | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by silvina [archived by dsa_archivist]",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2004-09-25T00:00:00",
"words": "1,027",
"Additional Tags": "Drama, Series, Fix-It, Slash",
"Relationship": "Benton Fraser/Ray Vecchio",
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} | the Day You Left
the Day You Left
by silvina
Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimer. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me . . . nah, it's not my birthday. But at least everybody's got one. Please send comments, questions, compliments, and otters to [email protected].
Author's Notes: Just some more backed up archiving. This one´s from late 2002.
Story Notes:
This story is a sequel to: Somebody Should
It's your birthday again. I'm not sure what to get for you. Last year I was sure, because I'd been planning for months. I just hadn't taken into account that I wouldn't be seeing you for most of that year, and that when I did see you, things would be different. You'd be different.
I'm sure I'm different too. I'm less innocent, more used to Chicago, definitely. I'm tempted to do something that I saw in one of Ray's movies. Wouldn't you be surprised to see me jumping out of a cake in the nude? I'd love to be your birthday present Ray. Something you could unwrap in the privacy of your bedroom.
I feel my face burn and I know I haven't changed that much. I'm not the innocent you think I am Ray, but thinking these kinds of thoughts is very new to me. I groan in frustration and Diefenbaker looks up. "I'm fine. I'm just having a little problem deciding on what to get Ray for his birthday this year."
He looks at me as if he can see right through me. He usually does. He's had your present picked out for months he tells me. Spoiled brat won't even give me a hint of what he got you.
My first birthday in Chicago was supposed to be quiet. I hadn't told you, and the only other people who knew were Inspector Thatcher and Constable Turnbull. Their knowledge is unavoidable as the information is on my personnel file. Constable Turnbull did wish me a happy birthday in his usual quiet way, but Inspector Thatcher's cool nonchalance led me to expect little. I should have known you would find out, and I should have figured that you would not allow the occasion to pass by haphazardly. We hadn't been anything but friends to each other then, best friends, but nothing more.
Dinner with your family was not an unusual occurrence, and you drove me home. I didn't notice you step out while I was making coffee, but you returned with two boxes. The first was a cake. I'd never had a birthday cake before, and I could tell that you had made it yourself.
"Happy Birthday, Benny." You said as you placed the cake on the table. 'Happy Birthday Be' it read.
"Happy Birthday Be?"
You shrugged. "We, uh, ran out of frosting. Dief helped."
I smiled again. Between the two of you I could imagine that large amounts of frosting hadn't made it onto the cake. I was honored nonetheless. Diefenbaker hates to cook, and I knew you had been very busy lately.
The cake was delicious and the company was excellent. I had forgotten about the second box until you took our dishes to the sink.
"Aren't you gonna open your present?"
"Oh. Certainly Ray."
"I hope you like it."
"I'm sure I will."
The paper was lovely as was the wrapping job, your usual touch of style showed through. I could see you growing impatient with me as I carefully lifted the tape off.
"It's just wrapping paper, Fraser. The gift is inside."
I smiled and baited you. "It only takes a few extra seconds to-"
You smiled back.
With the paper out of the way I opened the box. You had taken the pictures of my family before my mother died, and arranged them along with my father's medals and a picture of me when I joined the RCMP.
"Do you like it? I hope you don't mind that I took the pictures. You can always take them out if-"
"Thank you, Ray." I could hardly speak.
"I noticed you looking at all the pictures Ma has of the family, and I thought seeing as how you didn't have many that they should be together."
Family. It was such an unfamiliar, yet warm word. "Thank you Ray." I noticed that there was space for one more picture. "Ray, what should I put there?"
"That's Dief's present." You handed me an envelope.
Inside was a picture of you and Diefenbaker surrounded by the Vecchios. "He didn't want you to forget the rest of your family."
Diefenbaker barked, startling me out of my remembrance. Unexpectedly I knew exactly what to do.
When Ray had used the dream catcher in the cemetery, parts of it had only been slightly damaged. Ray had picked it up and returned it to me, commenting that presents weren't interchangeable and that it wasn't his birthday. I had held on to it in the meantime, pulling it out when I thought of you, perhaps hoping that it would chase away my nightmares of all that could go wrong while you were undercover..
Now, I don't think I've ever been as nervous as I am. I'm grateful that you're as brash about unwrapping presents as you are about everything else, otherwise I don't think I could watch you open your gift.
There's a smile on your face but it fades quickly. I don't understand, Ray. You were supposed to ask me about it so I could explain the traditions to you until you got fed up and thanked me with a grin and a hug. You're not supposed to sit down and look at me like I've done something wrong.
I hesitate to touch you. Your face suggests that saying the wrong thing could crush you and I'm not good in these kinds of situations.
"Ray?"
I'm kneeling in front of you when you look up, smiling. Your eyes are red, but you're smiling at me. I can feel your hands come up to hold my face, and I catch my breath as you kiss me.
"I think it's already working."
End the Day You Left by silvina:Author and story notes above. |
11136744 | The Way That I Love You | {
"Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by rainbowgoddess",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "1999-10-25T00:00:00",
"words": "4,103",
"Additional Tags": "Drama, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Slash",
"Relationship": "Benton Fraser/Ray Vecchio",
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} | The Way That I Love You
The Way That I Love You
by Iris Gray
Author's webpage: http://victoria.tc.ca/~wy236/fic.html
<PRE>
The Way That I Love You
Ray Vecchio was not a happy individual. He had recently admitted to himself
- though not to any other human being - that he was in love with his
partner, and best friend, Benton Fraser. His best friend who happened
to be a man.
Ray had tried to convince himself that the way he felt about Benny was
brotherly love. His real brother was estranged from the rest of the family
and Ray missed him. But no, the way he felt about Fraser was definitely
not brotherly. His heart - and parts of his body lower than that - told
him differently. //I am definitely a sick man// Ray told himself. Yes,
to be entirely objective, one could see that Fraser was very attractive.
But he was a man. Ray didn't get attracted to other men. Not that he
would admit, anyway. He was an Italian Catholic cop. Triple overkill
as far as being macho was concerned. It was true that the church had
softened its stance on homosexuality in recent years. Now they said that
having feelings for members of the same sex was not sinful, but acting
on those feelings was. Ray didn't know why that concerned him - he'd
done things that the church disapproved of before, such as divorcing
his wife, Ange.
Then he'd tried to convince himself that maybe being in love with Benny
was not such a bad thing. They were close friends. They enjoyed each
other's company. They could almost read each other's minds when they
worked together. Ray's family liked Benny. Ray probably spent more time
with the Mountie than he did with his family, actually. He knew that
he enjoyed Benny's company more than that of any of the women he'd dated.
But his sister Francesca was in love with the Mountie herself, and his
mother was very traditional. The news that her son was in love with another
man would not sit well with her, Ray was sure.
What concerned Ray most was what Fraser's reaction would be if he ever
found out that his best friend was in love with him. The Canadian seemed
so innocent sometimes. Ray wasn't certain how much of it was real and
how much was an act. He didn't want to frighten Benny. Nor did he want
to lose him as a friend.
Well, he couldn't sit here obsessing about it all day. He had work to
do. He turned back to the papers littering his desk. Suddenly the lieutenant's
voice boomed across the squadroom. "Vecchio! My office! Now!" //I am
obviously doomed not to get any work done today// Ray said to himself
as he responded to the summons. "Yeah, lieutenant, what is it? I'm kinda
busy right now." Then he saw the look on Welsh's face. Whatever he had
been called for was serious.
"Vecchio, get your ass over to County General ASAP. Constable Fraser
has just been taken to the Emergency room. He's in critical condition."
Ray thought he felt the blood drain from his body. He wasn't certain
if his heart was still beating. Benny was in the hospital? In critical
condition? "What - what happened?" he stammered. The lieutenant sighed.
"He was the victim of a severe beating. Looks like it came from some
members of the Zuko family."
Ray felt sick. He had a long association with the Zuko family, and he
wasn't particularly proud of the way he'd behaved last time he'd encountered
Frankie Zuko. Someone had planted a bomb in Ray's Riviera, and instead
of killing Ray, it had killed Detective Louis Gardino. Zuko had been
the prime suspect in the bombing, and Fraser had risked his reputation
- and his relationship with Ray - to prove that Zuko had been set up.
At the time, Ray had believed himself in love with Frankie's sister,
Irene, which made the situation even more volatile. Vecchio's obsession
with his childhood nemesis had caused him to ignore all the evidence
Fraser had discovered that led away from Frank Zuko. In fact, Ray had
treated his partner pretty badly. It was not until Irene Zuko was dead,
and Benny had stayed with Ray at the hospital to comfort him, that he
had realized just how badly. Yet Benny had never said a word about it.
Why would Frank Zuko pick on Benny now? It had been Benny who had proved
him innocent of the bombing. If Zuko really was behind this, Ray would
kill him. He was surprised at how calmly he came to that decision. Then
he realized Welsh was still talking.
"Vecchio, stay away from Frank Zuko. Go be with your partner. There's
plenty of cops here who have no love for the Zuko family. We'll get him.
Now go."
Ray broke every traffic law in Chicago getting to the hospital. On his
way he thought of the numerous times Fraser had been there for him. The
time he had pulled Ray out of the trunk of a car submerged in Lake Michigan.
The time he'd jumped on Ray and covered Ray's body with his own when
Suzanne Chapin was firing at him (though Fraser had later pointed out
that she had deliberately missed). The time he'd deliberately had himself
sent to jail in order to protect Ray, who had been sent there for contempt
of court. Had Benny been the victim of some twisted vendetta Frankie
Zuko had against Ray? He knew that Benny would do anything for him, even
risk his life, and if he'd thought that Zuko was coming after Ray...He
didn't even want to think about it. If this incident had anything to
do with him, Ray would never forgive himself. He had a hard enough time
living with the fact that he had shot Benny, albeit accidentally. All
the times he'd teased Benny about women, accusing him of not knowing
anything about the opposite sex, and it had turned out that Fraser had
a woman in his life after all - she just turned out to be the Psycho
Bitch From Hell.
After what seemed like forever, Ray arrived at the hospital. Sliding
down the corridor to the nurses' station in the ER, he was greeted by
an obviously pregnant nurse who introduced herself as Carol. When he
inquired about Fraser, she asked, "Are you family?" "Yes!" Ray answered
hotly, then added, "At least, I'm his next of kin. He doesn't have any
other family. I'm legally entitled to make decisions. Where is he? Can
I see him? How is he?" Ray had the feeling he was babbling but couldn't
stop himself.
"I'll take you to him," Carol answered. "Doctor Corday is just about
to take him into surgery. We'll know more about his condition after that."
She escorted Ray into an exam room where Benny was lying on a gurney,
ready to go to the operating room. Ray swallowed hard and stifled a gasp
when he saw Fraser's condition. Every visible part of his body was covered
in bruises. His eyes were swollen almost completely shut. Ray wanted
to cry. Instead he moved to Ben's side and took his hand. "Benny? Can
you hear me?" he asked, trying as hard as he could to keep his voice
sounding normal.
"R..Ray?" came a whispered reply. "Have to....to..tell you..."
"Sssh, Benny, you don't have to tell me anything right now. Save it for
later. They're gonna take you to surgery. You want to save your strength."
"Important...tell you...before it's too late..." Fraser continued.
"Benny, there won't be any 'too late', okay? You're going to surgery
and I'll be right here waiting for you when you come out. There'll be
lots of time for you to tell me anything you want to after that." Seeing
the orderlies coming to take Fraser to the OR, Ray leaned over and gently
laid a kiss on his friend's forehead. *Hell, I'm Italian, nobody will
think anything of my kissing my best friend* he told himself. He then
whispered in Benny's ear, "I love you, Benny. I'll see you soon." He
wasn't sure, but he thought he felt Fraser squeeze his hand slightly
in response. Then they took him to surgery, and Carol showed Ray to the
waiting area.
After he had been waiting for a short time, Ray saw someone approaching
the waiting room. It was Frankie Zuko himself, accompanied by two of
his 'associates.' Ray's first impulse was to pound the mobster's head
in, but he knew he couldn't take the two goons as well, so he would have
to remain calm. "What do you want, Frankie?" Vecchio asked. "Come to
see the results of your work? Maybe to finish it?"
"Vecchio," said Zuko, "I know that the two of us will never be friends,
but Irene loved you, God knows why, and the Mountie proved I didn't blow
up your car. I owe him. It wasn't me that had him beaten. I want to find
out who did, just like you do."
"Say that I believe you, which I'm not sure I do, who would do this and
lay the blame on you?" asked Ray.
Zuko threw up his hands. "I don't know. I have enemies. Does he have
enemies?"
"Fraser? Enemies? You've gotta be kidding. Everybody loves him. Even
the people he arrests like him. Why would *your* enemies go after Fraser?"
Frank thought for a moment. "They weren't necessarily after him, Ray;
they were after *you.* And me. They figured if they could make it look
like I did this to him, you'd come after me. If you actually killed me,
my people would make short work of you. And if you came after me and
I got you first, I'd go to jail for a good long time for killing a cop.
Either way, both of us would be out of the way."
Ray nodded. "I hate agreeing with you, Frankie, but I think you're right.
It makes sense. But who could want both of us that badly?"
"It has to be someone inside my organisation. Outsiders wouldn't know
the history between you and me. I'll send some of my people to do some
sniffing around."
"Frank, if you find out who did this to Fraser - would you let me take
care of them? I want to get them just as much as you do, even more, but
Benny would want them dealt with the legal way."
Zuko sighed. "All right. But not for you - I'll do it for him. Like I
said, I owe him."
Vecchio nodded. "Thanks, Frankie."
Zuko didn't say anything as he turned and walked away.
After an eternity, Carol returned, telling Ray that Fraser was out of
surgery and in recovery. "Doctor Corday will be by in a minute to give
you an update on his condition," she added. "Ah, here she is now." An
attractive redheaded woman appeared. "Detective Vecchio? I'm Elizabeth
Corday, Deputy Chief of Surgery. I operated on Constable Fraser."
"How is he?" Ray asked, trying to hide the fear and anxiety he was feeling.
"Extremely lucky, as a matter of fact. He has a few broken ribs, but
none of them pierced his lungs. There was some internal bleeding, but
we were able to take of it quite easily. He had a ruptured spleen which
we had to remove. His nose is broken. He has a concussion, but it is
not as severe as we feared at first. We will keep him under close observation
for the next few days, however; if he shows any signs of brain damage
we may send him across town to Chicago Hope - they have one of the best
neurosurgeons in the country. He has several defensive injuries, including
a broken wrist. Will you need this information for your police report?"
"Doctor, right now I'm here as Benny's best friend, not as a cop. You'll
probably be contacted by one of the other detectives at the 27th in a
day or two. All I want to know is, will he be okay?"
"Barring any unforseen complications, yes, I think he will be. He is
very strong and in excellent physical condition," replied the doctor.
"Can I see him?" asked Ray.
"Yes, but not for long. He is still unconscious and likely will be for
some time. Remember, he just had major surgery," said Corday. "I will
take you to his room."
Doctor Corday took Ray to Fraser's room, reminded him not to stay too
long, and left.
"Hey, Benny, it's me. I'm back," Ray said softly to the sleeping figure
of his friend. "The doc doesn't want me to stay too long, but I promised
I'd be here when you got out of surgery. I want you to know that I will
find the guys who did this to you. I'll bring them in. I wish I could
do to them what they did to you, but I know you don't want that. So I'll
do my best to keep it legal, go by the book, okay? Don't worry about
anything. I'll take care of Diefenbaker. I'll run interference with the
Dragon Lady 'till you're better. And if there's anything you need, just
tell me, okay? But you concentrate on getting better. Hunting bad guys
is gonna be tough without you there to taste everything."
Ray gently brushed his fingers through Ben's hair. "I don't know what
I'd do if anything ever happened to you, Benny. I can't imagine you not
being here. " //I don't *want* to imagine you not being here// he added
mentally.
A nurse approached and told Ray that he shouldn't stay much longer. He
considered arguing, but he wanted to fetch Diefenbaker, and also start
working on finding Ben's attackers. He nodded and the nurse left. "I
have to go now, Benny, but I'll be back as soon as I can. " He squeezed
Fraser's hand. "I love you," he whispered, then left.
On his way home, he stopped at Fraser's apartment to pick up Diefenbaker,
then went to the precinct. Detective Huey met him as he entered. "Ray,"
said Huey, "we got the guys that beat up Big Red. They've confessed.
They said that they work for Zuko."
"Doesn't that strike you as just a bit too easy, Jack?" asked Ray. "Mobsters
don't just walk into a police station and confess."
Huey looked as if he hadn't considered that possibilty. Ray went into
Welsh's office. "Lieutenant," he said, "Frank Zuko is being set up, and
whoever is doing it wants me to go after him. That's why they sent those
guys to get Fraser."
"Detective, that is a very interesting theory," replied the Lieutenant.
"How about providing some proof?"
"I'll get it, sir," said Ray. "Whoever's behind this won't get away with
it."
"If you say so, Vecchio. But be careful. I don't want to get a call saying
that you're in the hospital next."
"Don't worry about me, sir," said Ray. Welsh shook his head. "I always
do, Detective." Ray grinned and walked out of the office. He wondered
if Huey would let him talk to the suspects. He walked over to the interrogation
room. As soon as Diefenbaker saw the two men through the one-way glass,
he started barking and growling. "They're the ones, eh, Dief? All right.
I'll get them. They won't ever hurt Fraser again. Not if I have anything
to say about it," Ray assured the wolf. He knocked on the window and
Huey emerged. "Mind if I talk to these guys - unofficially?" he asked.
The detective frowned. "Ray, you know what Welsh said." "Welsh said for
me to stay away from Frank Zuko. Do you see Frank Zuko anywhere?" Huey
relented and Ray entered the small room, Diefenbaker close behind him.
"All right, fellas, listen up. You know and I know that you don't work
for Frankie Zuko. You will tell me who you really work for, or I will
let the wolf here - " he indicated Diefenbaker, "rip your throats out."
Dief stepped forward and growled menacingly to prove Ray's point.
"How do you know we don't work for Zuko?" one of the men asked, showing
some bravado he probably didn't feel.
"Because if you did, you wouldn't have said anything. You'd have kept
your mouths shut out of fear that your boss would have you permanently
silenced if you didn't," Ray explained. Just then his cell phone rang.
"Dief, keep an eye on these bozos," Ray told the wolf as he stepped into
a corner of the room and answered the call. It was Zuko. "I have a lead,
Ray. It isn't one of my guys after all. It's a peep named Sal Modigliani
- small-time hoodlum from the neighbourhood who had a crush on Irene.
Went out with her once or twice and she used to complain he wouldn't
leave her alone after she broke things off. From what I hear, he blames
both of us for her death." Ray wasn't surprised to hear that. He'd blamed
himself for Irene's death - when he hadn't been blaming Frankie - for
a long time. It had been Fraser who had finally convinced him that laying
blame was futile - it wouldn't change anything, and it wouldn't bring
her back. Irene's death had been a stupid, tragic accident, and that
was all. "Do you have any proof, Frank? Something I can take to my lieutenant?"
There was an audible pause from Frank. "Let's just say I can get some.
It may not be strictly by- the-book, though."
"Will it stand up in court?" Ray asked.
"Yes. I'll run it by my own lawyers first before I hand it over to you.
I'll make sure Modigliani doesn't get away with this, Vecchio. For Irene's
sake as well as for your Mountie."
"Okay, Frankie. Thanks." There was no reply from Zuko before he ended
the call. //When did Fraser become *my* Mountie?// Ray wondered. He
turned back to the two men that Dief was currently menacing. "Guess what,
fellas? That was Frank Zuko himself. He says you don't work for him,
and since we don't have anything to prove you do, I guess we'll have
to let you go. Frank's dying to meet the two of you, and we've provided
him with your names and a full description of the both of you, you know,
to see if it rang any bells. " The two men turned pale. "Or, you can
tell us everything you know about a small-time gangster named Modigliani.
" Ray paused to let that information sink in, then he added, "Or, I could
just leave you alone with the wolf. See, he doesn't like it when people
hurt his friends, do you, Diefenbaker?" Dief barked and growled some
more.
It didn't take long for the two men to spill everything they knew. Huey
took copious notes and sent some uniformed officers to pick up Modigliani.
"I don't know what you said to them, Ray, but we've got everything we
need to lock up them and their boss for a good long time."
"I owe a lot of it to Diefenbaker," Ray replied. He wasn't going to mention
Zuko's involvement. He probably wouldn't need Frank's 'evidence' after
all. Lt. Welsh approached Ray and Huey. "Gentlemen, it is almost dawn.
I suggest the two of you go home and get some sleep. Take the day off.
You both deserve it, and Vecchio, your mother has called me about a dozen
times already wanting to know when you'll be home, and I don't feel like
putting her off any longer."
"Understood, sir," said Ray. "Tell her I'm on my way and I'm bringing
the wolf."
"Vecchio," said Huey, "are you going to see Big Red today?"
"Yeah, I am, why?"
"Tell him I hope he gets well soon, will you?"
Ray smiled. "Sure will, Jack," he answered.
"Give your Mountie my best regards as well, Vecchio," added Lt. Welsh.
"Okay, Lieutenant. See you tomorrow." Ray left the precinct, again wondering
when Fraser had become 'his' Mountie. Were his feelings for his partner
that obvious?
After he'd showered and shaved, and fed Diefenbaker, Ray was back at
the hospital. He was pleased to see that Fraser was awake and alert.
He was also happy that he could tell Fraser that he had succeeded in
catching the men who had hurt him, and that he'd done it without breaking
any rules. "So, how are you feeling, Benny? Does it hurt?" he asked.
"Yes, Ray, it does," Fraser answered.
"Any idea when they'll spring you from this place?"
Ben frowned. "The doctors are concerned about the fact that I live alone.
They are reluctant to release me if I have no one to 'keep an eye on
me' as they put it."
"You can come home with me, Benny. I'll keep an eye on you," Ray said.
"You have to work, Ray."
"So, then my Ma will look after you. You know how much she enjoys feeding
you. She'd be overjoyed to have you around."
"As would your sister," said Benny. If he hadn't known better, Ray would
have thought the Canadian was being sarcastic. "Ma can keep Frannie in
line, Benny. Just say you'll do it, or I'll get Ma to come and persuade
you herself."
"Very well, Ray," said Fraser with a smile. "And thank you."
"You're welcome, Benny. What are friends for?"
"Ray, may I ask you something?"
"Sure, Benny, what is it?" asked Ray.
"Just before I was taken to surgery you said something to me. I believe
you said that you love me. Did you say that?"
//Uh-oh. I thought he was already unconscious when I said that. Damn.
I hope I didn't scare him or anything.// "Uh, yeah, I guess I did say
that. You're my best friend, right? Friends love each other, so why shouldn't
I say it?"
"There is no reason why you shouldn't say it, Ray. I was merely...curious.
Indeed, you are my best friend."
"Good," said Ray. "Then we understand each other."
"Actually, I am not certain that I do," said the Mountie.
"Not certain that you do what?" asked Ray, confused.
"Understand you. Are you saying that you love me as a friend? Only as
a friend?"
Ray opened his mouth to affirm that yes, that was the way he loved Benny,
but then he saw the look in Fraser's eyes and he stopped. The blue eyes
that met his showed pain and longing, even disappointment. "No, Benny.
Not as a friend. I'm...I'm in love with you, Benny. That's how I love
you."
Ray was rewarded with a brilliant, relieved smile from his partner. "And
that is the way I love you also, Ray."
Ray hardly dared believe what he was hearing. "Do you really, Benny?
You love me? I never knew."
Benny reached for Ray's hand and held it tightly. "I do, Ray. I love
you very much. I am only sorry I did not tell you sooner. In fact, it
was what I was trying to tell you in the emergency room."
Ray leaned forward and kissed Fraser directly on the lips. They stayed
like that until Ray detected a wince coming from his friend. "Did I hurt
you, Benny?" he asked, suddenly frightened.
Fraser smiled and gingerly touched his nose. "I am afraid my nose is
broken, Ray, and while kissing you is definitely enjoyable, I must ask
you be a bit more careful."
"But there isn't a cast or anything on it," Ray observed.
"No, the doctor said that as long as it remains straight, I will not
need a cast."
"I'm sorry, Benny," said Ray.
"It's not your fault, Ray. You were not aware of my injury."
"It is my fault. The goons who attacked you were working for a guy who
went after you to get to me. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be here."
"Ray, Ray, Ray. You mustn't blame yourself. You had no way of knowing
that Mr. Modigliani blamed you for what happened to Irene, or that he
would target me. I know that you would never allow me to be hurt if you
could prevent it."
"How do you always know the right thing to say, Benny?" Ray asked.
"It is only the truth, Ray."
Ray kissed Benny again, being careful this time to avoid his nose. "The
truth is that I love you, Benny. With all of my heart. Forever."
"And I love you, Ray. Forever."
END
</PRE> |
11108874 | Best of Wives and Best | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Fenris (Dragon Age), Female Hawke, Hawke (Dragon Age)",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by VendelynSilverhawk",
"chapters": "2/2",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-06T00:00:00",
"words": "169",
"Additional Tags": "Song Parody, Parody, Hamilton References, lots of pain, Angst",
"Relationship": "Fenris/Female Hawke",
"Character": null,
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"Series": "Hamilton: A Fandom Musical Parodies",
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} | HAWKEHey there, is everything alright? FENRISI remembered but it fell away- HAWKEIt was just a dream FENRISHawke, I’m sorry that it happened this way.
HAWKE
Why would you run when you’ve finally found a home? I’m here for you- am I not enough?
FENRISI thought that I could prove him wrong… HAWKECome back to sleep.
FENRIS
This ghost is too strong.
HAWKE
I won’t let you fight alone.
FENRIS
Hawke… don’t hope for what may never be.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
FENRISHey there, why are you out of bed? HAWKEVarric sent a letter from the Coast. FENRISWhat do they need now? HAWKEI’ll be gone just a month at the most. FENRISWhy can’t the world leave our family in peace? Just let it be- you promised us. HAWKEI’ll be back before you know I’m gone. FENRISHawke, please don’t leave! HAWKEI’m leaving at dawn. FENRISDon’t ask me to leave your side. HAWKEFenris… tell our son I love him, always. |
11177745 | Icing | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Michael Jones, Gavin Free",
"Fandom": "Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by RageKiss",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-12T00:00:00",
"words": "1,126",
"Additional Tags": "Established Relationship, Ice Play, Teasing, Rimming, Oral Sex",
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} | On a regular day, the intolerable midday swelter of a Texan summer could be tempered by the bliss that was central air-conditioning. However, a busted unit meant beating the heat in unusual ways. While Michael was on the phone with the apartment management, Gavin, sweating and shirtless, sprawled across the bed and, within moments, managed to kick all of the bedclothes, comforter included, to the floor.
“It’s going to be another couple of hours before the AC is back on,” Michael said as he entered the bedroom. Upon seeing his boyfriend laying on top of the wrinkled top sheet, Michael frowned. “For fuck’s sake, Gavin.”
Gavin looked up at Michael pitifully. “It feels like I’m going to melt. Can’t you do anything?”
Michael shrugged as he tossed his phone onto the dresser and replied, “I may be able to fix a lightswitch, but there’s no way I’m touching the AC.”
Gavin made a whine in the back of his throat as he rolled onto his stomach on the bed, trying to find a cool spot on the sheet.
Michael rolled his eyes. “You’re getting the sheets all wrinkled, not to mention coated in your musk. Maybe if you fucking shaved that pelt off your chest, you wouldn’t be sweating like a wildebeest.”
“We can’t all be bloody hairless, can we?” Gavin responded, reaching out to pinch Michael’s side through his shirt.
“Fuck off. I can tell what you’re doing. You’re being obnoxious, which means you’re trying to flirt, which is not going to get you what you want,” Michael responded, batting Gavin’s hand away.
Gavin huffed, “It’s too hot to bang anyway.”
It was then that Michael got an idea. He got up from the bed and made a quick run to the kitchen, returning with a glass full of ice. Gavin began to turn onto his side, but Michael stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “Stay put and don’t move.”
Gavin nodded, curious about what Michael was intending. Setting the glass on the nightstand momentarily, Michael removed his shirt and then climbed onto the bed. He straddled Gavin’s waist, taking a few seconds to admire the smooth expanse of Gavin’s tanned back.
“It’s going to be a shame when all that fur migrates back here. Then you’re really gonna look like Chewbacca.”
“You’re a right terror, Michael. Teasin’ me and all,” Gavin replied, folding his arms and resting his head upon them.
“Teasing? I’m stating a fact, pal. You’re going to be a walking rug,” Michael smirked, enjoying the indignant noises Gavin made.
While Gavin was busy being affronted, Michael picked up the glass and fished out a rapidly melting ice cube. Gavin’s body bucked slightly as the first droplets of chilly condensation hit his skin and ran down the contours of his back. A sprinkling of gooseflesh broke out over Gavin’s bare flesh, and he shivered as Michael touched the nape of his neck with his cool fingers. Gavin let out a pleasant little hum as those strong yet nimble digits traced patterns into his skin with the ice water as the ice cube melted into nothing against Gavin’s warm body.
“You like that?” Michael seemed pleased with himself as he removed another chunk of ice from the glass.
“Oh, Michael, it’s heavenly.” Gavin practically moaned as Michael ran the ice along the length of his spine, stopping at the delta of his lower back. Frustrated by the barrier created by the waist of Gavin’s boxers, Michael yanked them down in one motion, earning him a few squeaks of surprise from the other man. Gavin tried to cover his backside with his hand in protest. “Don’t. I’m all sweaty and gross.”
Michael sighed, taking Gavin’s wrist and pinning it firmly to the mattress. “So am I, so stop being a nancy about it.”
Gavin stifled a laugh. “You’re using my words again, love– Ah! That’s cold!”
Gavin’s back arched as Michael ran the ice cube down the center of his pert ass.
“You’re very observant,” Michael said, mentally noting that this technique seemed to be an effective way of shutting the other man up.
Holding the ice cube between his hands until they were both near-numb and the ice completely melted, Michael maneuvered himself between Gavin’s open legs, removing the other man’s boxers completely. Michael reached down to grip both sides of Gavin’s buttocks before spreading him open.
“Love, please, don’t. I should shower…” Gavin’s hesitance disappeared when Michael began licking at his hidden indent, his pink tongue swirling over the puckered flesh.
“Oh!” Gavin panted heavily, the already stifling temperature within the room becoming nearly unbearable. His hips rocked backwards against Michael’s tongue.
Michael stopped his ministrations for a brief moment and began to mimic Gavin’s accent, “
Oh, Michael, don’t touch me there. I’m dirty, and it’s bad, but don’t stop!
”
Gavin let out a frustrated whine, “Michael, please.”
“You’re such a needy bastard,” Michael responded, grabbing the glass and tilting it up to catch one of the remaining ice cubes in his mouth.
When he lowered his head again, Michael used his tongue to press the tiny sliver of ice into Gavin’s opening. The high-pitched shriek of surprise and confused-pleasure that Gavin made was totally worth being without the AC. Grabbing Gavin’s hip, Michael flipped Gavin onto his back and took in the sight of the other man’s flushed face, his lips parted as he struggled to maintain his composure. Gavin always had the same look on his face when he was either aroused or drunk– his green eyes hooded, his cheeks speckled with a dark red blush, and his tongue constantly darting out to moisten his lips.
“You owe me,” Michael said as he teased the tip of Gavin’s penis with his fingertip before leaning down to press a cold kiss to it.
Michael licked at Gavin’s slit as he busied his hands doing things that he knew would make the other man’s heart race. With his left hand kneading at Gavin’s side, Michael let his right trail down between Gavin’s legs. He gently scratched over the scar the bisected Gavin’s scrotum. While the scar itself was barely visible, it was incredibly sensitive as evident by the hoarse shout that Gavin made as he came, his spendings striking Michael’s tongue.
“I’m sorry,” Gavin managed to say, his body relaxing into a happy puddle of British twink on the sheets.
Michael spat the viscous fluid onto the sheets and wiped the remainder from his face with the back of his hand. “Again, you owe me.”
“How about we take that shower now?” Gavin smiled, lazily reaching up to toy with Michael’s hair. “Or a cold bath? It’d be like going swimmies.”
“Sure, but you can get the ice this time.” |
11197740 | The Legend Of The | {
"Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Marillay Sah'Man (OC), Ithylia(OC), Sendurii (OC), Jahaan (OC)",
"Fandom": "Star Wars - All Media Types",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by LadyMorgaine76",
"chapters": "2/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-14T00:00:00",
"words": "2,733",
"Additional Tags": "The Story of the Tri-deities of Taanab, There will be almost no Old Canon here, Definetely not any of the new..., Will end up in the story of the Janson Family!, Completely Headcanon Material",
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} | Karyvdys, Outer Rim, 5000 BBY
“Marillay!”
The black-haired woman tried blocking out the sound of the angry voice calling for her. The flames surrounding the battlefield made the heated air difficult to breathe in. Her heavy cloak was a nuisance, but also a necessity… Her infant daughter hid under it, strapped to her chest, as she ran through the rubble and the chaos, her eyes focused on the place where her shuttle waited. She had to get out of there! “Marillay!” The cruel voice that had once spoken to her with a tender tone, kept calling amidst the fire and the smoke. He was lost to her… Her loving companion was but a distorted version of the man he’d once been. Navann had sided irrevocably with the invading Sith. The red skinned Dark Siders had brought pain and slaughter to her world, and now Karyvdys was ruined… Her once beautiful planet laid in ashes in front of her. Her people murdered or enslaved. Marillay’s father had fallen defending their household. Her last action before turning her back on her childhood home had been to thrust her lightstaff into her father's killer’s chest. She had picked up the invasor’s red lightsaber for extra protection, and now she had to reach her shuttle and run away from that place! More than anything, she had to protect her daughter! Navann wanted the child, to raise according to his new beliefs… A Dark Sider like her father. Marillay would go to the end of the galaxy if she had to, in order to protect her daughter! Staff in one hand and lightsaber on the other, she rushed towards the far end of the doomed city. The small Jedi corps that had their headquarters in the capital city of Calujee had been almost completely subdued, and any help from Coruscant would arrive too late. Her people were doomed, and it their blood was on Navann’s hands… A near explosion almost knocked her off her feet, and she heard her daughter weeping inside her cloak. She reached her cheek to caress the small child, whispering to her. She hadn’t even named her child yet, so afraid she was that her feelings would be caught by Navann. Her daughter would have to be hidden from her father! He would never get his hands on her! Marillay finally reached the place where she’d hidden her shuttle, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips. She’d made it! “Hold it right there.” An unknown voice ordered her. As she turned to face her opponent, she saw three of the red-skinned creatures. A small obstacle… Three red lightsabers hummed and the snap-hiss of her own lightsaber and lightstaff echoed in the night . With graceful movements, she advanced to them, with a smile on her lips. She was faster than them… more powerful too! Calling the Force to her, she emptied herself of all intruding thoughts and allowed her spirit to be filled with absolute serenity. It was like a dance… Three steps, block the first two with her double-wielded staff. Use the lightsaber in her off-hand to block the third one. Duck and use the staff to attack the first two. They yelled in pain as the staff’s yellow blades cut clean through their legs. Marillay rose, her expression resolute, and thrust herself towards her last standing enemy. She cut off the energy on her staff and raised the red lightsaber, coming down on the Sith’s chest. Still alive and grunting with pain, the other writhed on the floor. The Jedi way was to let them live… But if they informed Navann she’d left on her shuttle, he might come after her. With was a matter of keeping her daughter safe. She inhaled slowly, clearing her thoughts as she released the air… “I beg the forgiveness of the Masters that came before me, for what I’m about to do.” She whispered. Marillay turned her staff back on, and with a sudden movement, she thrust her weapons into their hearts. She lowered the shuttle’s ramp and went inside, allowing herself to take a last glance at her now dying world. Karyvdys was dead. And so was Marillay Sah’Man!
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
The stars stretched into lines in front of her. She had no idea where to go yet, but she knew any world she’d choose, would have to be either off the grid or so unimportant that no one would look for her there. Her name was abandoned. she’d left it in the rubble on Karyvdys. From now on, she would simply be that small child’s mother. She rose from her chair, heading to where a makeshift cradle was. Her month-old daughter slept with the blessed ignorance of a small baby. The woman gazed at her child’s face, her short, curly, black hair; her rosy pout; her peaceful features… She needed a name for her daughter. One which didn’t sound Karyvdyan. Once, when she was very little, she’d gone travelling to the world of Sermeria. Her parents had found lodging in a charming hovercabin near a small lake. She’d found the place wonderful! She remembered a name… a young girl, also on vacation with her parents. They’d become fast friends, and had spent those two weeks exploring the valley with a couple of other kids. Ithylia was her name! She liked the sound of it...Ithylia… “Well, my love.” She whispered to the sleeping child. “You have a name now! Ithylia, my lovely daughter…” The child stretched on her sleep, and she could almost swear she’d smiled. She went back into the pilot’s chair, letting her daughter asleep in her cradle. Consulting her maps, she began the task of choosing a system to travel to. For now, she was heading for the Hydian Way, but she needed to choose the world where she could hide with Ithylia. As she sorted out through systems and worlds, two names appeared in front of her: Taum Reese and Taanab. She pulled out the info she had on those two planets. Both had a breathable atmosphere and presented habitable features. The files mentioned that Taum Reese had a harsher climate than Taanab, being prone to hurricanes and torrential storms. Taanab, on the other hand, seemed more hospitable. The latter planet had been discovered shortly after the Tionese War, but apparently, it had been left to its own devices, not having been colonised yet. Reports spoke of a small presence of nearly primitive humans, that were deprived of any technology. Laying back on her chair, she gazed on the projected images of Taanab. The world was one huge jungle, and it was comprised of a single continental mass and just a dozen of small islands to the south. The rest was just a vast ocean… It would be the ideal world to raise her daughter. She inserted the new coordinates in her navigational system and allowed herself to rest for a while. Taanab would be their new home. She closed her eyes as images of a young black-haired girl, running and laughing amongst the trees and the tall bushes, filled her dreams. She could even discern a sweet and spicy smell in the air, and the sound of a near brook, with its crystal blue waters. A smile flourished in the sleeping woman’s lips, as the hope of better future for her small child seeped into her weary heart…
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The vision of the world floating in front of her, gave Marillay mixed feelings of relief and utter sadness…
Her childhood planet was lost forever.
The millenia-old buildings, all the culture, the proud people they had been… All gone.
Maybe it had been their pride that had blinded them to the threat the invading Sith imposed. Karyvdy’s Jedi Temple had been home for some of the most powerful warriors in the order.
Or so they had thought… Now, she could see the sins of her people, how arrogant they had been to believe they were better!
That arrogance and hubris had cost them everything!
When a faction of Jedi, lead by her lover Navann, had began causing rifts in the order, the old Masters in the Karyvdyan council had believed they could put a stop to the uprising without any interference from Coruscant.
How naïve they had been, how completely blind and over-trusting in their abilities…
Marillay and other Jedi, had at least succeeded in evacuating the all of the children from the temple. They had been sent to safety on an escape shuttle, all the way to Coruscant. But she hadn’t been able to save her own family…
The governor of the Karyvdyan capital of Lhysanne, Dormunn Sah’man had fallen trying to defend his home and his family. Marillay had rushed to the house, but found it already ablaze. Her last vision of her father had been of him falling to the ground after one of the red-skinned creatures thrust his lightsaber into his chest.
Wielding her double bladed lightstaff, she had killed the creature where he stood, taking the enemy’s lightsaber with her.
That lightsaber stood by her staff’s side, on the small table in front of her. She picked it up, turning it in her hand. The hilt was completely black, engraved with symbols she didn’t recognize. She turned it on, watching the deep-red blade coming alive, listening to the eerie hum of it.
The yellow blades of her lightstaff made a high-pitch hum, as this one had low-pitch one. No doubt caused by the difference in the crystals used to manufacture the weapons.
She should have thrown it away… but a weapon was a weapon, and she didn’t believe a lightsaber on its own, would absorb into itself the wickedness of its previous owner. No, she would keep it!
Even if just as reminder of all she’d lost!
She got up, leaving the weapons on the table, and taking her daughter from her cradle. She was asleep again, having been just fed.
Cradling the small infant in her arms she approached the viewport, gazing at the blue and green globe that was going to be their new home.
It looked peaceful from that distance, and if her files were correct it would be an ideal world to hide in. Marillay was aware of the numerous wildlife she would find there, but if the small population that lived in it had found a way to prosper safely, so would she!
The natives the first explorers had found, called their world Tanee’Haab, which had been shortened to Taanab by astrocartographers.
One day, those so-called scientists, would stop changing names they couldn’t pronounce correctly, into changed and distorted new names, that lost all meaning with their new ‘translations’...
“We’re almost there, love.” She spoke softly to her daughter. “That’s our new home from now on! You’re going to grow up as a Tanabian, now. I promise I’ll keep you away from this war. You’ll have an ordinary, carefree childhood, my dear.”
As they got closer to the planet, She returned her daughter to her cradle, initiating landing procedures.
The shuttle reached atmosphere, and Marillay aimed to the northern side of continental mass. She saw the massive ocean under her. It had a cerulean shade of blue, and she noticed that it had sporadic spots and stretches of dark blue, which implied the presence of deep trenches.
Marillay started to lower the shuttle as she approached ground. She looked for an opening between the lush vegetation and tall trees that laid in front of her. She finally managed to find a clear meadow where she could land safely.
“Let's go, little one!” She said, a hopeful tone carrying on her voice. “This is our new home now… let's see if mommy can find a good place for us.” She looked back at her shuttle. For the time being, it would serve as their home in these strange surroundings, until she got more familiar with Taanab.
Eventually she would have to attempt some kind of contact with the Taanabian, though Marillay knew the language barrier was a major issue.
With the small Ithylia babbling on her arms, Marillay opened the shuttle's hatch. The light flooded the spaceship as she stepped outside, her enemy's lightsaber, more maneuverable with one hand, hanging on her hip. There was a plethora of sounds and smells that were completely foreign to her. This was an almost untouched world.
At the edge of the forest, she saw trees of a yellowish colour. Walking towards them she noticed the were almost golden, and that sweet and spicy aroma in the air, emanated from them.
This was a fascinating place! She was sure it had been the right choice to hide herself and her daughter.
Closing her eyes, Marillay allowed herself to become at peace, concentrated… she reached out, probing the vicinity. She sensed many small life forms ahead. None of them felt menacing. She stepped into the forest, walking amongst those beautiful trees. She heard the ruffle sound of the breeze rushing along the branches and the leaves. But there was also another sound… a stream somewhere ahead of her position. If she was lucky, it would be potable water!
She moved towards the sound, until she could finally see it. A creek swirling along the forest. It's crystalline water was almost inviting…
She was so tired…
A small kitten-like animal, with black fur was on the side, dipping one of his paws on the water. The creature stopped, aware of her presence, sitting down and looking at her. He seemed curious of this human. With a low growl, he got up, walking closer to Marillay. He didn't look afraid of her, which possibly meant he was used to humans.
She sat on by the creek, waiting for the small animal to approach her. As he did, he began to smell her, an inquisitive look on his silvery eyes, and then he decided the best approach was to lick Marillay’s offered hand. She laughed with delight.
“A bit of an adventurer, aren't you? And totally unafraid.” She gently rubbed behind one of his bisected ears, to which he purred leaning into her. “You're used to humans… maybe someone's pet, even.” She lifted her gaze, searching her surroundings then lowering her eyes to her daughter. “It could mean there's some village or settlement near… we'll eventually need to make contact with the population, but for now mommy better get back into the shuttle, uhm?” As if protesting against her mother's decision, little Ithylia began weeping. The little creature lifted his paws, leaning onto Marillay’s arm, peering at the small baby in the woman's arms. He growled gently at the child, licking her head.
“See? Our new friend likes you!” Marillay got up, turning back to the path towards her shuttle. “Goodbye, my little friend. We have to go now.” She smiled at the creature, held her daughter close and walked away from the creek. As she walked, she heard steps behind her. She turned to see the kitten following her.
“No. Go. Go back… you can't come with us.” She turned away and proceeded on her path. She arrived at the shuttle, opened the hatch and went in…
...followed by the kitten, who promptly leaped forward.
She shook her head at the little black ball of fur.
“You can't stay! Your humans are going to miss you and come looking for you!”
The kitten laid down on the floor, ignoring her.
“Ah, come on! I...ugh...now I'm arguing with a small creature! Just great!” Marillay made a face at him. “Alright, you can stay...for now… but I don't know if I have anything for you to eat, little rascal…” She went to the cradle and laid Ithylia there.
Not even a full day on a new planet, and she'd already been
adopted
by a native creature!
“Maybe the human population will be as accepting as their animals…” She chuckled, sitting on one of the bunk beds available on this service shuttle.
She needed the rest, before venturing outside again.
The remainder of the day, she would stay inside. But tomorrow she would have to find a place where she could begin building some kind of shelter.
She would also need to finally try and make contact with the Taanabians. She couldn't make it all alone with a small child in a foreign world.
Marillay could only hope they were friendly... |
11136891 | Imagine My Surprise | {
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"Category": "M/M",
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"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
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"completed": "",
"published": "2000-01-17T00:00:00",
"words": "770",
"Additional Tags": "Romance, Humor, Slash",
"Relationship": "Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski",
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} | IMAGINE MY SURPRISE
-------------------
Ray Kowalski nervously cleared his throat as he approached the records
room. He'd had his eye on the new records clerk for a while now. She
was attractive, pleasant, and seemed to like him, so he'd decided that
now was the time to finally ask her out.
"Hello, Detective," said Sarah, the object of Ray's interest. "What can
I do for you?"
"Hi, Sarah. Ya know, you can call me 'Ray' if ya want."
The woman smiled. "All right, Ray. Is there a file you need?"
"No, my visit here is completely unofficial today," said the detective
with a smile.
Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really?" she asked. "What is the purpose
of this unofficial visit? You have a fondness for musty old files?"
Ray took note of the fact that the clerk did not wear a wedding
band. "Sarah, you got a boyfriend?" he asked.
"No, I don't," was her reply.
"So, you're single?" Ray continued.
"That does not necessarily follow, but yes, I am single. Why?"
"Well, I thought that maybe you'd like to have dinner with me? As in,
a date?"
Sarah chuckled and shook her head. "Oh, Ray, I am sorry if I've misled
you."
"What?" asked Kowalski. "You telling me you're not interested? Why not?"
"Ray, I'm a lesbian."
A lesbian. Oh shit. Sarah was a lesbian.
"Uh, you're sure 'bout that?" Ray inquired, feeling rather stupid.
The clerk frowned. "Are you sure you're heterosexual?" she responded.
Ray looked at his shoes. "Well, no, actually, I'm not," he said
quietly. "Not sure, that is."
Sarah put a hand on Ray's cheek. "Ray, I am flattered by your interest,
but I suggest you find someone who likes men - romantically, that is."
"Yeah, well, I think I've asked out all the single women in the
entire department."
"What about the men?"
"Men?" choked Ray. "Whaddaya talking about?"
"Well, you did say you're not sure you're heterosexual. Maybe
you should try playing for the other team, as the saying goes."
"I don't know," mused the detective. "I haven't been with a man
since before I was married, and that was a long time ago. I wouldn't
even know where to start."
"How about with your Mountie partner?" Sarah suggested.
Ray choked again. "Fraser? What about him?"
"Ray, the Mountie set off my gaydar the first day I met him.
He's obviously very...fond of you. I think you'd be surprised."
"Gaydar? What the heck is that?" asked Kowalski.
"Gaydar. Gay radar. The little clues that help gay people recognize each
other."
"And Fraser gives off these - clues?"
"They're as noticeable as that red tunic he always wears."
Kowalski was still having trouble wrapping his mind around what
he'd just been told. "You're saying Fraser is gay?"
"Gay or bi, either one. And he likes you, Ray. A lot."
Ray shook his head. "Thanks, Sarah. I think. Uh, I'm sorry if I
bothered you. I really didn't know you were gay."
"Well, then, detective, maybe you should work on your gaydar.
Starting with your partner."
---------------------------------------------
Benton Fraser approached his partner's desk. He noticed that Ray
looked troubled about something. "Ray?" he inquired. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh, hi, Fraser. Uh, you could say that. I just had one of the
most humiliating moments of my life this afternoon."
"What happened?" the Canadian asked, concerned about his friend.
"You know that new clerk down in Records? Sarah?"
"Yes, what about her?"
"I asked her to go out with me," said Ray.
"Oh, dear. Ray, I don't think she would be interested in you.
She's - "
"Gay. Yeah, I found that out too late."
"I hope that she was at least polite when she turned you down."
"Oh, yeah, she was real nice about it," sighed the detective. "She suggested
I try to find someone who likes men, you know, that way."
"And?"
"Well, I dunno, Fraser, it's not like I have a lot of single women ready
to throw themselves at me."
"What about men?" the Mountie suggested.
"Like who?"
"Like me," stated Benton.
Kowalski smiled. "You saying you want to go out with me, Fraser?"
"Well, we already go out quite a bit, Ray."
Ray stood and faced his partner. "Or are you saying you want to
throw yourself at me?"
Fraser licked his suddenly dry lips and ran a finger across one
eyebrow. "Yes," he said softly. "I am saying that. But I would
prefer to, er, throw myself at you somewhere where we have a bit
more privacy.
A suggestive grin spread across Kowalski's face. "Your place or
mine?" he asked.
"Yours, Ray. Definitely yours."
END |
11121717 | Admissions | {
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} | Title: Railroads and RiverboatsMy Meg and Ben series continues.Title: AdmissionsAuthor: Amanda A. TikkanenCategory: Romance, Series, going AURating: PG- keeping it cleanPairings: Fraser/ThatcherSpoilers: This is a sequel to "Hockey Night in Chicago",
and another prequel to the other stories in that series. You can see
them all on my site. That can be found at http://www.geocities.com/uberpest/fanfic.htmlArchive: Yes, but ask me first so I know.Disclaimer: These are not my characters |commence weeping|. If they
were you'd better believe there would be some mass-marketing done on
OFM alone. due South and the related references are property of Paul
Haggis and Alliance Entertainment.Feedback always welcome at [email protected], or, if that doesn't work
(ie you get no response) try [email protected] I respond favorably to praise.
Flames will be used to warm my room. No, take that back. My room has
the heat on all year (80 degrees F+! gotta love dorms!). I'll use them
to make ramen soup. :)Thanks to all you (okay, the twelve of you) you stuck with me this
far. You knew it was coming, you just had to wait for it. Well, and
kick me in the butt a lot.I said originally this was RayV, but have since mistakenly made refeneces
to RayK episodes. I'm a naughty fic writer. I swing both Rays, but
am saying this is AU just in case anyone is confused by my confusion.*~*~*~*~*~Fraser stood at perfect attention outside the Canadian Consulate,
gaurding it from marauding cleanser salespersons. Or at least that's
usually what he wanted everyone to believe. This particular week, however,
he was on duty for an entirely different reason. Yes, he was being
punished for a very stupid decision while watching a recent hockey game.At the time he'd done it, it seemed a good idea. Ask Meg, his superior
officer and of late the woman he'd been seeing, to marry him. She'd
fallen asleep on his chest while watching the game, pinning him so he
couldn't move. In his mind asking her to marry him wasn't that bad of
a move, just meant to get her attention so he could free his arm and
torso. So what if it backfired? So what if she'd actually agreed to
it? So what if she didn't know she'd done it? Who was he to lie to
her? He had to make sure she still wanted to go through with it.Of course, there was always the point of using a little tact in reminding
her of these occurances.No, that was probably the worst move of them all. However it *was*
odd that she didn't actually tell him she *wouldn't* marry him. He was
relieved on that front.But still, here he was, standing outside te consulate, pulling a double
shift every day the past two weeks. While he was thinking, a bottle
green 1971 Buik Riviera slid across the icy pavement into an illegal
parking space. His best friend Ray Vecchio climbed out of the car, navigated
his way over the uncleared sidewalk and stood in front of him."So, Benny, you wanna go get some lunch?"Benton didn't move. Not one eyelash. Not even a blink."Oh man! The Dragon Lady's *still* got you doing this? Just
what did you do, anyway? Must've been something big," Ray looked
thoughtful for a moment. "Did you spit on a sidewalk? Seems to
me that's the worst thing you could've done. Well, as a Canadian anyway.
Either that or maybe littering. Canadians *hate* litter." Ray,
now teasing his unresponsive friend decided to poke fun at the Mountie's
personal life. "Or maaaayyyybeee, since you two have been spending
so much time together, you got some weird idea only *you* would get and
decided to propose. I know *I'd* be mad as all get out if you proposed
to *me*. Of course, I *am* a guy, but still."Fraser still didn't move, however his control over the blood circulating
through his face slipped minutely- and he did something unthinkable.He blushed.Once started, the blood flow took its own mind in what was happening.
Soon his ears were as red as his tunic.Ray was taken aback for a moment before realizing he'd struck paydirt."You asked Thatcher to marry you? I can't believe this. Why?"Fraser just stood there, continuing the blush. He had no intentions
of answering. Actually he didn't know how to respond, Ray and Meg were
not on the best of terms with one another. He wasn't gettingin between
them to try to find out why.Realizing he not going to get an answer, Ray turned to leave. "You
know what, Benny? I don't want to know. Forget I ever asked."Fraser was still standing there hours later when InspectorThatcher
left the consulate for the evening. She stood close enough that he could
feel her body heat on his face before speaking."Go ahead and take tomarrow morning off. Sleep in. We can start
planning this thing this weekend." Leaning forward she kissed him
gently.'Okay,' he thought. 'Maybe it wasn't such a bad decision afterall.' var yvContents='http://geocities.yahoo.com/toto?s=76000013&l=NE&b=1&t=964449646';yfEA(0);geovisit(); |
11102736 | Denouement | {
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"Characters": "Buffy Summers, Rupert Giles, Dawn Summers, Faith Lehane, Scoobies (BtVS)",
"Fandom": "Buffy the Vampire Slayer",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Quaggy",
"chapters": "1/1",
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"words": "5,834",
"Additional Tags": "Post-Series, Post-Episode: s07e22 Chosen, Post-Chosen",
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} | In the moments after Sunnydale fell, everyone responded true to their personalities. Xander and Dawn joked. Willow marveled at the possibilities. Giles obsessed with the practicalities. Faith teased and moaned about wanting to sleep for a week. Buffy, though, stood by in contemplative silence.
“What do we do now?” Dawn asked.
Buffy started to smile....
“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m planning on passing out from blood loss right about now.”
She said it so calmly. As if she announced that she was going to get a cup of coffee. Everyone was still for a moment, trying to figure out if she was joking. Everyone except Giles, who had already begun to yank off his jacket as he lunged towards her. When Buffy collapsed, she collapsed in his arms.
“Sword to the back. Went straight through,” she told Giles. Giles cursed and called for the first aid kit. Xander, the first to recover, started running towards the bus, calling for Vi who had become the group’s self-appointed medic. Dawn grabbed Giles’s coat and, kneeling, spread it on the ground. Together, she and Giles arranged Buffy so that she was on her uninjured side, with her head cushioned in her sister’s lap. She was mostly faced downward so that Giles could reach her back easier, though she could turn her head and still see everyone, pretty much.
Once he saw the severity of her wound, Giles’s swearing increased in strength and frequency, as well as in volume.
“That bad, huh?” Buffy said, sympathetically.
“Yes, that fucking bad!” Giles spat, as he took the first aid supplies from outstretched hands.
“Oh god, B! When you got back up, I thought you just had the wind knocked out of you.”
“Nope. Parlor trick,” Buffy replied, grinning at Faith as she was the one to then curse. Giles momentarily froze, then turned to Buffy with wide eyes.
“You mean to tell me that you used that godforsaken....” Giles’s voice trailed off as he quickly returned his work.
“Yup. Told you it would come in handy one day.”
“What are you talking about?” Willow asked, worried and bewildered.
“Do you remember how Buffy would sometimes get a fast-bleeding cut..?” Faith paused, unsure how best to describe it.
“And she would just sort of freeze it? Like an invisible Band-Aid?” Xander finished.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Faith nodded. “It used to freak the hell out of Wesley.”
“B-but she could only do it for small cuts and not for very long,” Willow said. “You know, just long enough to keep the blood from dripping on her clothing.”
“I saved a lot of cute tops that way,” Buffy agreed. Her voice was getting weaker, but she still seemed completely relaxed.
“After which you would then pass out for several hours, scaring me witless in the process, because your damn ‘parlor trick’ was too much of a strain on your slayer healing,” Giles grumbled. “The Slayer completely incapacitated after a dust-up with a few goddamn fledges.”
“That was early on. I only had just figured out how to do it. Saved it for slow nights. Got bored with it eventually. Turns out it works a lot better with a heavy-duty dose of adrenaline.”
“That remains to be seen,” Giles replied as he finished bandaging her back. He and Dawn carefully shifted Buffy so that she was now tilted upward. Giles then turned his attention to Buffy’s exit wound and let off a string of curses so violent and blue that even Faith looked surprised. Dawn bit back a sob and stroked her sister’s hair.
“Don’t worry, Dawnie” Buffy said, looking up at her sister, grabbing her hand reassuringly. “If Giles is cursing like that, it’s means it’s only pretty bad. You know it’s really bad when I’m the one who’s cussing from the pain. And when Giles then starts singing to get me to stop.” Dawn managed a slightly watery laugh, as Buffy had intended, but Willow turned her face into Xander’s shoulder with a sob.
“To get you to sleep,” Giles corrected, beginning to finish up. “Which I never would have had to resort to at all if you would have ever just let go and let your slayer powers do their damn job.”
“Eh, sleep is for the weak,” Buffy said faintly. Giles rolled his eyes as he wiped his hands.
“Yes, my darling, and with a hole that is the size of a rock in your side, I think you qualify.” Giles leaned over and smoothed her hair back. “Now, rest.”
Buffy closed her eyes and Giles kissed her forehead. She smiled faintly, eyes still closed, and then her breathing fell into the rhythm of slumber.
“Damnable woman,” the Watcher said with a sigh. He then straighten and lifted Buffy into his arms to carry her back into the bus. Dawn gathered up his jacket and followed closely behind.
“What was that?!” Kennedy demanded, voice shaking a bit. It wasn’t so much that Buffy had been hurt, but the calm, routine way that Buffy, Giles, and even Dawn were treating it. This wasn’t an apocalypse. This was just business as usual.
“That is something that you’ll never have to experience,” Faith supplied, her eyes still on Giles and Dawn’s retreating figures. “That is what it’s like to be ‘The One Girl in All the World’ with only your Watcher to patch you up when things get rough.” Faith thought about the few times that she had tried Buffy’s parlor trick. The amount of effort that it must of taken Buffy to just stand up unaided, let alone start fighting again, was staggering. The fact that Buffy had stayed conscious for as long as she did should have been impossible. Not that Faith would say any of that out loud. No sense scaring the Baby Slayers. They’d find out just how hardcore Buffy really was on their own.
“Don’t try this at home, kids,” she murmured. With a shake, Faith turned her attention back to everyone else. It was on her now. “Come on. The sooner we’re back on the bus, the sooner we can find civilization again.”
Slowly, everyone shuffled away from edge of the crater that used to be Sunnydale. The big stuff was over. Time to take a breath and figure out where you stood.
Buffy was slowly waking up, drifting happily in that twilight state with only enough brain power to decide if she should make the effort to climb those through those final levels of consciousness or to let herself fall back into slumber, when she heard someone slowly enter the room. Even as tired as she was, it should have thrown her senses in to high alert, but no matter how silently he moved, Buffy would always recognize her Watcher.
“Giles?”
“I didn’t mean to disturb you. Go back to sleep.”
“No. Feel scuzzy. Want a shower. Too tired to do it.”
Giles took a moment to consider. After an injury like hers combined with her parlor trick nonsense, Buffy needed more rest. But she would sleep better if she showered and had her wounds rebandaged.
“I’ll help you,” he offered. Lord knows, it wouldn’t be the first time. In response, Buffy groaned and pushed herself into a sitting position.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“A small hotel near Sagrario. We were lucky to have found a place that could take us all. There have been a number of Sunnydale refugees, as you might imagine.”
Buffy nodded. Sagrario was the closest large town near Sunnydale and surprisingly demon-free for all that it was (or had been) so close to the Hellmouth.
“Where’s Dawn?”
“With Xander. They’re both fine. They were watching some cartoon marathon with Willow and Kennedy. So, I showered here.” Buffy nodded, knowing that, while he had often showered with her only a few feet away outside the door, back when she was in high school, he would have been more uncomfortable to do so with Dawn. “When I returned, they were all asleep, as are the majority of our group.”
“Good.” Buffy didn’t ask about anyone else and Giles didn’t offer information. There would be time enough for grief later after Buffy had healed completely. Anya wouldn’t have minded the delay.
Finally shaking sleep’s hold, Buffy focused on the room around her. It was early evening, if the bedside clock was to be believed. Giles’s battered duffel was near the bathroom door. Hers was closer to the bed. It had been a fairly last minute decision for everyone to bring a bag with them, in case they couldn’t return home right away. Buffy had privately thought that they were just asking for the school bus that Robin had turned into Slayer Transport to be destroyed, taking along with it all their precious belongings (and, in some cases, only belongings). Instead, it had proved to be a near prescient idea. It took Buffy a few moments to realize how strange it was that both their bags were together and Dawn’s wasn’t.
“We sharing a room?”
“Yes, for now, since Dawn is currently passed out on what was supposed to be my bed. I didn’t want to leave you alone while you were so injured. Dawn and I can switch back later tonight,” he said, nodding to the only bed in the room.
“If you can wake her,” Buffy replied with a snort.
Buffy got to her feet unaided and Giles followed into the bathroom. It was a familiar routine. Giles turned on the water as Buffy slowly began to remove her dirty and blood splattered clothes. It was a Watcher’s duty to be able to provide emergency care for his (or her) Slayer and Buffy’s loving nature and sense of fair play meant that she usually demanded that she return the favor. The long years of being each other’s primary medical support had removed most of their prudishness. There were some lines that had never been crossed. Neither had ever seen the other without their underpants, thankfully, though there was at least one time that came close. There was nothing quite as humiliating as having to drop your trousers so that your sixteen-year-old Slayer could clean and re-bandage an unfortunate wound from a crossbolt and he had thanked every deity that he could think of that the arrow hadn’t entered a few inches higher. But Buffy hadn’t displayed a shred of embarrassment, diligently cleaning his wound while keeping up the same level of chatter that she normally subjected him to whenever she would help him shelve books or sharpen swords. Giles knew her sangfroid was a carefully maintained illusion for his benefit and he loved her for it.
A few months later, when she was bruised and hurting after a battle with a particularly nasty breed of winged gremlin-like demons, he was able to return the favor. She had sustained a number of scrapes and cuts on her upper body from the demons’ claws. Her shirt had been in shreds and he had silently promised himself that he was never again going to roll his eyes at her leather pants, since they were the sole reason that her legs hadn’t suffered the same indignities. In the end, holding a towel with one hand to her breasts to preserve her modesty while trying to keep herself upright with the other so that Giles could bandage her back had proved to be too much of an effort. She had made some crack about not wanting to offend his British sensibilities as she dropped the towel, but Giles could tell she was mortified. So, he, in return, dropped his tweedy persona completely and was truly himself with her for the first time – a man who, despite his uptight exterior, had survived the 1970s London underground scene with most of his sense of humor intact and who had seen more than his fair share of naked female breasts, as just a matter of course. With a shrug, he told her that he wasn’t so sure how much respect Buffy would have had for British sensibilities if she knew about The Sun’s Page 3 girls, which then led to him explaining who The Sun’s Page 3 girls were. Buffy had been completely indignant at the thought and it had served as effective of a distraction as he had hoped. It became something of a running joke between the two of them after that.
But Buffy made no jokes about “Page 3-ing it” as she let her bra drop on top of her shirts. Clad only her briefs, she used Giles to brace herself as she stepped into the tub. Normally, she’d tell Giles to close his eyes and then step out of her underwear before getting under the water. The fact that she had chosen to wear them into the shower was an indication that Buffy hadn’t been entirely confident that she wouldn’t need Giles’s help halfway through.
“I’ll leave the door open. Call if you need anything. And, Buffy? If your wounds start bleeding again, for god sake, let them damn well bleed!”
“Trust me, Giles, I’m all out of tricks right now, parlor or otherwise.”
As Buffy showered, Giles turned down the bed and fetched her bag to find something clean for her to wear. He smiled as the first thing he saw when he unzipped Buffy’s bag was Mr. Gordo, but he grew serious when he saw a man’s black t-shirt right on top, as if stuffed in at the last minute. The last of Spike’s worldly remains. After a moment’s consideration, Giles took the black shirt and quickly routed around in the bag for a pair of knickers. (He and Buffy may have still maintained certain reserve with respect to their own bodies, but they had completely abandoned all formality when it came to clothing. They had done laundry for each other for far too many years.)
“I bled a little, but not as much as it looks, so don’t freak out,” called Buffy as a way of letting him know that she was ready for him.
Buffy had tied a clean towel low around her waist, leaving her wound exposed. Her underwear was lying wet at the bottom of the tub along with a towel that had some bloodstains, which was not exactly a surprise if her wounds had started to bleed again in the shower. Giles handed Buffy the clean underwear and set about filling the tub to let the towel soak. He threw in her soiled clothes as well.
“I don’t think any of that is particularly salvageable,” Buffy observed.
“It never hurts to try.”
Buffy smiled. It was a regular exchange for them over the years, Buffy being certain that her clothes were beyond repair and Giles willing to at least make an attempt at salvaging them. Once he was finished, Giles helped Buffy onto the bathroom counter and he set about rebadging her wounds.
“Giles?” Buffy’s voice was soft. Giles paused in his work and slowly looked up, knowing what question was coming. “Something happened to Anya, didn’t it?”
“Yes, Buffy. I’m sorry.”
Buffy closed her eyes and held herself vey still as she tried to keep her emotions under control. Giles found himself blinking back a few tears of his own. It would take some time before any of them would be able to accept that she was gone.
“I thought so. She wasn’t standing next to Xander like she should have been. Amanda is gone too. I saw her fall.”
Giles nodded and, at Buffy’s unspoken request, listed the rest of the casualties. Most of the new Slayers were fine, thanks to their slayer healing. Rona was on the mend, but was being kept overnight at the hospital along with Andrew and Robin.
“Andrew was hurt during the fight?”
“No, after we arrived here in Sagrario in the most ridiculous way possible. I never got the whole story and I still don’t have enough energy to find out.”
“Right. We’ll just let that one be for now. Wait. You said that Robin’s still in the hospital? But his mom was a Slayer. He had should have inherited even more slayer healing than you did from your grandmother.”
“I don’t think mystical healing works by mathematical percentages,” Giles laughed. “Besides, my healing was nothing to speak of until I became your Watcher. I don’t know if it will do much good, but I did recommend that Faith stick close by his side.”
“You got that vibe from them too?”
“Yes, though they seemed to have responded more to their sexual attraction than any Watcher/Slayer bond.”
“Makes you wonder what we would have done if you had been a little less tweed and I’d been a little less high school when we first met.” Giles looked at her in disbelief and then bit back a smile as she realized how her words could have been taken. After a long beat of awareness, they both cracked up. “Oh God! I can’t believe I just said that! So not the conversation we need to be having right now.”
“There’s a limit that jokes about Page 3 Girls can do, Buffy!” Giles replied, still laughing.
“Ignore me,” Buffy commanded. “Did you tell them why?”
“It caused a little bit of consternation. For Faith, because she hadn’t considered the possibility before. For the others, I think it was the idea that I had a Slayer in my lineage. Xander and Willow were particularly confused since they thought I meant my Watcher grandmother.”
“‘That’s not your grandmother. I’ve seen your grandmother. She lives in your house’,” Buffy paraphrased. Giles grinned at the reference and her halfway decent imitation of Scouse.
“‘Well, everyone's entitled to two, aren't they?’ But now that I think of it, I’m surprised that they never questioned my ability to take a knock to the head without further health ramification.”
“I did! I don’t know how other Watchers managed.”
“They didn’t. That was why they generally stayed out of the fight.”
“Oh, it wasn’t because they a bunch of condescending stick-in-the-muds?”
“That too.” Finished with his work, Giles gave Buffy’s front wound one final examination before he cover it with fresh bandages. “It looks like it will scar,” he sighed.
Buffy didn’t scar very easily. Her slayer healing took care of most of her injuries quickly. The ones that did leave a mark were generally from encounters that were traumatizing emotionally as well as physically. The faint outline of her bullet scar. The knife wound from Lothos. The way that the Master’s bite mark still remained while Dracula’s had vanished after a few days. But now she would have one more to add to her collection and he hated it.
“That’s okay. We’ll be twinsies,” Buffy said, her hand slipping under his t-shirt to find his own scar. Giles smiled slightly, but gave no other indication that Buffy was taking a few more personal liberties than either one of them normally would be comfortable with. He didn’t mind, after all. Quite the opposite. This physical closeness felt more natural than the reserve than was enforced between them as student and teacher.
“Yes, well, fortunately I don’t think the one on your forehead will. One is enough.”
“You are the only one that even sees that scar anymore.”
“It’s my fault that it exists.”
“Giles, you forget that I’ve read just about every Watcher Diary that I could get my hands on by now. I know how a properly executed Cruciamentum is supposed to go. I even oversaw that modified Watcher version of it for the Potentials. There was nothing standard or normal about my test from the very beginning, but you didn’t know that until it was much too late. And the moment you did, you came running.”
“It shouldn’t have taken me so bloody long to realize something was amiss.”
“You trusted in the system. Don’t blame yourself for that. So, maybe you did slip into mindless Watcher-bot mode for a while there, but they trained you to be that way. For years. And you broke all that conditioning for my sake. That’s what this scar means to me. That my Watcher loves me,” Buffy proclaimed, sweetly. Giles dipped his head and tried not to blush. “It’s good, though. Having the scar on my side. It feels appropriate that I have a physical reminder from all the times I nearly died. Or actually did.”
“Well, almost every time,” Giles said, softly.
“No, I have one from Glory too,” Buffy relied. “It’s just really light.” She indicated a small, white web-like scar, just at the base of her sternum. A lightening scar. With a frown, Giles leaned in to get a better look . . . and realized belatedly what area of Buffy’s body he was staring at. And touching. He yanked his hand away and blushed.
“Easy, tiger. You’ve seen them before. And you are hardly tonight’s worst offender of blurred boundaries.”
“Oh, I think I just moved myself into first place with that one,” Giles said with a grimace of self-annoyance. “Buffy—”
“Don’t you dare apologize!” Buffy warned. “That really will make it weird. Let’s just chalk it up to a fitting end to a strange, rule-bending day.”
“I won’t argue with the logic of that. Now let me clean that wound on your forehead, so that we can get some clothes on you before anything else happens!” While the cut was not bad, it was deeper than it looked. Giles would feel better if it had a bandage on it for another day or two.
“That’s Spike’s,” Buffy said, finally paying attention to the t-shirt that Giles had chosen for her to wear.
“I know. But you need something loose to sleep in. I didn’t think he would have minded.”
“No, he wouldn’t have,” Buffy said absently, plucking at the shirt. Giles stayed silent, waiting. Finally, almost to herself, Buffy voiced what was bothering her. “He didn’t believe me.”
“Believe what?”
“In those final moments, I told him I loved him. He said that I didn’t, ‘but thanks for saying it.’ Those were his last words to me.”
Giles didn’t say anything right away, as he continued to tend to the wound on her forehead, careful with the antiseptic so that he wouldn’t cause Buffy to wince.
“I imagine he was in something of a catch-22,” he finally said. “Of course, you love him. He was there for you in your darkest hours. Been a friend to you, to the best of his abilities. Nobel enough to sacrifice his life, simply because it was the right thing to do. Platonically, romantically, how you loved him doesn’t really matter. It never does when you when you fully let someone into your heart.”
Giles paused to glance at his Slayer. Her eyes were slightly wet but her smile was thankful and a little pleased. She knew her Watcher wasn’t just talking about her and Spike. Giles let the backs of his fingers brush her cheek before he continued his thoughts as he fixed a bandage. “But Spike was flawed enough, selfish enough, that if he truly believed that you loved him, he wouldn’t have been able to sacrifice his life. He would have chosen to stay with you. But in doing so, he would reveal himself to be unworthy of your love. So, ironically, in order to be the man that you did love, he had to believe that you didn’t love him.”
“Or maybe Spike just has a screwed-up idea about what love should be,” Buffy sighed.
“Well, yes, that too,” Giles laughed and then grew serious. “Buffy, I chose that shirt because I thought you’d find comfort in it. But if that’s not the case, you can borrow one of mine.”
“I can’t take your stuff, Giles. We all have so little as it is.”
“Yes, but unlike the rest of you lot, I still have a full closet of clothes waiting for me back in England. Assuming they survived the Bringer attack, that is. Come to think of it, so do you.”
“I do what?”
“The clothes you used to keep in the bottom drawer of my dresser. I packed them up with the rest of my things when I first returned to England. I knew I should have given them to Dawn or one of the girls, but I pretended not think about it.”
“So you’re telling me that my clothes have been to England, when I still haven’t ever left this continent?”
“Well, we’ll fix that. If you’re willing. There’s an entire Council that needs to be reestablished. It will be easier to do so if we are based in London,” he replied, rummaging through his own duffle right outside the floor. He returned to her side with a soft gray t-shirt and slipped it over her head before she had time to object. He then handed her an energy bar.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I know. Eat it anyway.”
Buffy smiled slightly and complied. She was never hungry when her slayer healing was working in high gear, but she would be staving as soon as she was almost better. It was a bit like when you were sick. She chewed with a thoughtful expression on her face as she stared at Spike’s shirt.
“Maybe we can give it to Andrew. He’d make sure it was properly memorialized,” Giles offered. Buffy laughed.
“You know what? I think that is an excellent idea!” she proclaimed as Giles helped Buffy off the counter. He hovered as she brushed her teeth and then followed her into the bedroom to help her under the covers. He tucked a pillow at her back so she wouldn’t roll over on to her wounded side.
“Are you going to wake Dawn up so that you can get some sleep?”
“Perhaps.”
“That means no,” Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. “And don’t you dare lie to me.”
Giles sighed. She was right, of course. Dawn had fallen asleep only a short while ago and likely wouldn’t wake until morning. Giles saw no reason to disturb her, just so she could fall asleep again in a different bed.
“Giles, just get in. We’ll worry about propriety later.”
Giles was conflicted. This was one of the lines that they had never before crossed. They had never shared a bed, other than a few odd times when he had been seriously hurt and Buffy would curl up at the foot of his mattress, not wanting to leave him. (Especially once they had realized that he healed faster when she did.) Their past relationship hadn’t allowed for anything more. But the constraints of their past relationship was buried under the rubble of Sunnydale with all the other structures of their lives there. And damned if he didn’t ache to be close to her. So, without further protest he slipped in beside her, curling up on his side so that he could face her.
Buffy smiled sheepishly at him and he shrugged back at her a little ruefully. They both giggled. It was a strange intimacy, sharing a bed, even without any physical touching. To have someone you cared about so close when you were at your most vulnerable, it was both awkward and oh so wonderful. He knew that Buffy had spent the past few nights with Spike and was glad she could have that comfort. He found that he wasn’t even jealous or resentful, just sad that he had not been the one who had been able to offer her what she had needed. But that led to thoughts about when Spike had been able to offer the support that he had willfully denied her at a far more critical time.
“You’re scowling. What are you thinking about?”
“Spike. No, not what you are thinking. Don’t worry. It’s just that....” Giles sighed. This was more difficult to admit that he would like. “Spike, when he came back... and you were gone....” Giles’s voice trailed off. He looked down at her. Her eyes held no anger. With a deep breath, he continued. “He accused me of turning against you because... well, feelings of inadequacy, I suppose. Because, to use his blunt phrasing, you ‘surpassed’ me.”
“He was wrong. There’s no way that I’ve—”
“He was right,” Giles interrupted. “About that, he was right. You know it and I know it. You surpassed me long ago. Back when you were still in high school, I would say.”
“Well, let’s not exaggerate here,” Buffy said, making a face. Giles reached out and smoothed back her hair.
“I’m not. But the point is that isn’t why I took their... why I didn’t side....”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t believe that—”
“Giles, chill. I know. Your back was to the wall. You’re the last Watcher and the girls were your responsibility. You couldn’t protect me and them at the same time. And I didn’t need you to protect me. They did. You were all they had. When you and Dawn.... It hurt like hell, I won’t lie. But I know that you two are never going to stop loving me. You are not just my friends. You’re my family. You both get passes that not even Willow and Xander get.”
Giles closed his eyes as he felt his emotions begin to overwhelm him and it was Buffy’s turn to reached up and caress his face.
“Besides, I don’t know why you let Spike’s words get to you. Soul or not, you had to know that he was going to be petty and look for every cheap shot he could get after you tried to kill him.”
Giles eyes snapped open and Buffy gave him a cheeky grin, the one that had always caused him to glare at her to the point that it was now a conditioned response. Buffy grinned triumphantly when he did. She did not, however, remove her hand. Instead, she moved it up to stroke his hair.
“And before your start stumbling over that, I do get... now... that it wasn’t about not trusting me and had everything to do with your protective instincts going wild. I’m thinking that, at least at the time, things were ringing a little too close to home. If I would have to take a guess, I’d say that my decisions were probably echoing how you handled things way back right before all the badness with Eyghon. And you’d do anything to save me from that kind of pain.”
“How could you possibly even know that?”
“Because I know you,” Buffy smiled. “So I get that you were all Father Knows Best-ing it something fierce.”
Giles moved her hand down so he could kiss her palm and then held her hand against his heart.
“I suppose that should have been my first indication I was taking the wrong path. Every mistake I ever made with you was when I tried to act like your father.”
“Except with the Cruciamentum,” Buffy’s voice was light and teasing and, in light of her reframing of that event, Giles found himself able to smile at her words.
“Ah, but you never met my father,” he parried back.
“From the few stories you’ve told me, I don’t think I would have wanted to.”
“Yes, and with that role model, is it any surprise I’m terrible at fatherhood?”
“You’d be a good dad, Giles. Not really good as my dad, but that’s because you kind of couldn’t be. You’re my Watcher. Classification by itself.”
“There was never a good equivalent for our relationship.”
“I guess it’s for us to figure out.”
“The world changed overnight. You changed it. What it means to be a Watcher. What it means to be a Slayer. It’s all different now.”
“More than I can manage at the moment, to be honest,” Buffy admitted with a sigh.
“Far too much for me as well, I fear. But we have all the time in the world to figure it out.”
“Well, when we do make an attempt, could I put in a request that there be more of this bed sharing thing in the future?” Buffy asked, shifting closer. “I like this.”
“I rather like it myself. Perhaps we could even discuss attempting it when neither one of us is harmed.”
“You have the best ideas,” Buffy sighed, with happiness. Giles reached out to stroke her hair and Buffy hummed in contentment. Giles was so warm. It made her feel so relaxed. She could feel her eyes drifting closed and knew she was close to falling asleep again, when an intrusive thought struck her about something that had happened earlier. “Giles? Why did Willow get upset... more upset when I made that joke about you singing?”
“I’m not sure.”
“But you have a theory.”
“Well, I suspect that...” Giles paused and Buffy could feel him struggling. “I suspect that she overheard me once. After....”
“Glory?”
Giles only closed his eyes in response.
“Oh, Giles.”
“You looked... and so I thought I would pretend... just for the moment. I hadn’t realized that I had an audience.”
She had always understood that Giles had deeply grieved for her, as deeply as she would have grieved for him. She had known that it would be so even as she made her decision on the tower and had prayed that her last message would give him at least some shred of comfort. But she had not realized until this moment that part of him was still grieving, despite the years since her return. Perhaps because that part of him could never quite believe that this too wasn’t just pretend.
Buffy lifted her hand once again to her Watcher’s face. She smoothed his hair and stroked his temple. When he finally opened his eyes to look at her, she tried to convey all of her love and devotion in her smile. His eyes softened and the tension in his arms and shoulders dissipated.
“Giles, sing it again.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Whatever you sang that night, sing it again. Only this time feel me warm against your side and know that I’m all with the happy sleepy healing thing.”
Giles sucked in a breath and, for a moment, Buffy worried that she had asked too much. But her Watcher shuffled a bit, bringing his head down closer to hers and moving them both so that one of his hands cradled the back of her head and the other rested on her chest, right over her heartbeat. He kissed her forehead and then, after a moment’s hesitation, brushed his lips against hers. Buffy smiled shyly and blushed a little, in response. After a moment he began to sing what Buffy had once told him was her favorite song as child. By the time he had finished all the verses of “You Are My Sunshine,” Buffy was fast asleep. After pulling her even closer, Giles was soon as well. |
11131644 | The Witches of Southwyck | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Marna Hughes [archived by dsa_archivist]",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "1999-06-01T00:00:00",
"words": "7,286",
"Additional Tags": "Humor",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "Due South Archive",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
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"Comments": null,
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} | The Witches of SouthWyck This story is about an urban witch who develops a *thing* for OFM. Itin no way deals with anything evil, or satanic. It was written completelyin fun and is not meant to seriously depict any religious or socialgroup. Anyone with a moral aversion to a little hocus-pocusplease hitdelete now. Rated PG-13 for adult situations and language.
In addition to the cast of Due South, borrowed from Alliance, Dr. Greene,
from the NBC series ER, makes a brief appearance in this story.
For every evil under the sun,
There is a remedy, or there is none.
If there be one, seek till you find it;
If there be none, never mind it.
Nursery Rhyme
_____________________
The Witches of
Southwyck
Marna Hughes
"What they doin' now, Vern?" Asked the shorter of the two men standing
behind the six-foot wooden privacy fence that separated Vernon Simplot's
back yard from Maryellen Moonstone's. "I cain't see over this dern fence."
"Ain't sure what they're doin, Billyray," answered Vern. "Looks like
they're dancin' 'round thet bonfire."
Billyray gave a little jump that brought his eye level almost to the
top board of the fence, but unfortunately, caused most of the beer in
his long-neck to slosh out over his hand. "How many of 'em's over there?"
It took Vern quite a while to count them. "I reckon there's thirteen,"
he said finally.
The chanting began, a soft hum of female voices rising and falling, the
words unintelligible.
"What they doin' now," Billyray was scanning the area on his side of
the fence for something to stand on that would enable him to see into
the neighboring backyard. Spotting a planter on the patio, he hurried
to drag the heavy object into position.
While Billyray struggled with the planter, Vern watched the thirteen
chanting women circle the fire, occasionally pausing to throw a dust
like substance into the flames. The fire flickered in eerie blues and
yellows then blazed into vivid brightness.
Finally succeeding in getting the planter close to the fence, Billyray
climbed onto it and grasped the boards, resting his chin on the wood.
"What kinda clothes you suppose those is?" he asked referring to the
cowled robes the women wore. The robes were all cream colored or white
with one exception one was a dark scarlet, almost blood red.
"Dunno," said Vern. "But ya cain't recognize nobody under them hoods."
One of the women knelt and retrieved a silver goblet from the ground.
Holding the cup toward the fire, she repeated an incantation and raised
the goblet to her lips.
"What's she doin' now, Vern?" whispered Billyray, wobbling on top the
unsteady flower stand.
"Drinkin' somethin'," answered Vern, taking another pull from his Coors
bottle.
"Whataya reckon they're drinkin'?"
"Dunno, probably some kinda drugs."
"What you two doin' out here?" A shrill voice from behind made both men
jump. Billyray's precarious position on the plant stand rocked and sent
him backwards onto the ground. Vern's wife stood at the back door, hands
on hips, waiting for an answer.
"Shhhhh," Vern said, turning back to the scene beyond the fence.
"So, they're at it again, huh?" She said in disgust, eyeing the fallen
Billyray who was flailing around on the ground trying to stand.
Beside the fire, the figure in scarlet pushed her hood back exposing
exquisite features and a mane of hair that drew color from the flames.
She raised the silver goblet above her head, then tipped the contents
into the fire.
"Man, ain't she somethin'," breathed Vern, watching transfixed as the
woman's porcelain skin and auburn hair seemed to glow in the flickering
light.
"And that'll be about enough of that," snarled Mrs. Simplot, recognizing
a look in her husband's eyes she hadn't seen directed at herself in some
time. "I'm callin' the cops," and she marched back into her house.
"Damn," snorted Billyray, brushing off the seat of his jeans. "Just
when things was gittin' good."
* * * *
"They're witches," Mrs. Simplot confided in a whisper. "They're holdin'
some kinda black-magic meetin' over there."
"Witches?" said Detective Ray Vecchio.
"Yep," agreed her husband.
"They're witches alright. No tellin' what kinda evil they're up to."
Mrs. Simplot confirmed indignantly.
"Evil?" said the Detective.
"Yep, they probably kill cats and chickens and drink the blood," she
expounded.
"Eeuuww!" Vecchio couldn't help it. "What in the world are you people
talking about?"
"Go on over there and arrest 'em," urged Mrs. Simplot. "Before they
does somethin' awful."
"Right," said the cop, shaking his head. It was ten-thirty on a Friday
night and the moon was full. It was gonna be a real long shift.
* * * *
"Come in Detective," said the lady in red. "We're just finishing our
monthly club meeting."
Ray slid his badge back into his jacket pocket and followed the scarlet
clad women inside.
The interior of the old house was a surprise. It must have looked almost
exactly like this seventy years ago when it was new. The oak woodwork
glowed in golden tones accenting the soft colors of the wallpaper. Antique
rugs in muted shades of red and blue covered the hardwood floors.
"Nice place," Vecchio commented.
"Well, ladies," she said spreading her arms to encompass the group of
women seated on the parlor floor. "A detective has dropped by to pay
us a visit."
"How nice," said another of the women, rising from the floor. "Let's
have coffee, shall we? Join us Detective?"
"Nah, I have to well, maybe just a little." He surveyed the women seated
on the living room floor. They were all dressed oddly in long, pale
colored robes. He judged their ages to be between twenty-five and thirty-five.
All were attractive, some extremely so. These certainly were not his
idea of witches.
It was almost thirty minutes and several cups of coffee later that Detective
Vecchio got around to the reason for his visit. "Your neighbor filed
a complaint said you're practicing some kinda witchcraft in the backyard."
He looked around the circle of female faces all gazing back at him, smiling
serenely.
"We're not exactly witches, Ray may I call you that? And, I don't believe
we were breaking any laws," said Maryellen Moonstoneher legal name she'd
assured the policeman.
"City ordinance two-sixty-seven-point-oh-four prohibits a fire within
the city limits. There's a seventy-five-dollar fine for ."
"Oh...we really weren't aware of the ordinance. You won't give us a
ticket, will you, Ray?" her pale blue eyes searched the detective's.
"No, of course not," Ray would have promised her anything as he gazed
into those fathomless blue orbs. "Just, um . . . well, don't start any
more fires in the backyard."
"Absolutely not," Maryellen assured him. "Oh, and Ray, before you leave,
would you do me one teeny-tiny favor?" She crossed the room and
retrieved her purse from the hall table. Withdrawing a much folded yellow
paper, she pressed it into the detective's hand.
Ray glanced down at the folded paper. "It's a traffic ticket," he said.
"They should never have given me that ticket," said Maryellen, squeezing
the policeman's hand and focusing her unblinking gaze on his.
"No, of course not," he mumbled. "I'll take care of it."
Outside in the frosty October evening, Ray Vecchio shook his head like
a man trying to keep himself awake. He could hear, or maybe feel,
the strangest humming sound inside his head, like tuneless music. And
there was an overwhelming, all encompassing sensation of serenity. He
climbed into his Buick and sat for a moment, watching the lighted windows
of the house he had just left. Then he started the car and drove slowly
back to the 27th Precinct.
* * *
"Whataya know about witches, Fraser?" Detective Vecchio asked the man
seated across the desk.
"Not a great deal, I'm afraid," answered RCMP Constable Benton Fraser.
"Really?" It wasn't often that Fraser admitted no knowledge of any subject.
"Why do you ask, Ray?"
"I met some last night," Ray said.
Fraser watched the detective toy with a yellow traffic citation,
smoothing then refolding it repeatedly. "Interesting," Fraser began
guardedly. This sounded suspiciously like the lead-in to some joke Ray
intended to play on him.
"Ray," Elaine Besbriss called from her desk. "You've got a phone call.
Some guy named Vernon Simplot."
Mr. Simplot sounded agitated, "Get back over here right away," he began
without preamble. "My wife's threatenin' to get her old shotgun out and
blast them witches."
"Calm down, Mr. Simplot, why does your wife wanna shoot the neighbors?"
"They've done gone and put a spell on us," Vern said. "Hurry, 'for Arlene
finds her birdshot."
* * * *
Mr. Simplot was waiting at the front door of his home. "Come on in,"
he motioned the detective and his friend inside. "Arlene's still down
the basement lookin' fer the shotgun shells."
Just inside the threshold, both the detective and the Mountie stopped.
The walls, ceilings, furniture, floors, in fact every surface in the
room was covered with black beatles. Ray backed up till he was standing
just outside the door. "Eeuuww, what are they?" he said, reaching up
to scratch his neck. He felt as though the insects were crawling inside
his clothing.
"Leptocoris trivittatus, Ray, the common box elder bug," said the Mountie,
plucking one off the door casing and studying it closely. "They frequently
become a problem this time of year when their host trees go dormant."
"The witch sent 'em," said Simplot matter-of-factly. "She called us
last
night, after you left. Said she wasn't happy about us callin' the law
on her and her friends. Said we'd regret it."
Fraser and Vecchio exchanged glances. "You're tellin' me you believe
your neighbor put some kinda bug-curse on you?" asked Ray, still standing
well outside the front door.
Mr. Simplot never got an opportunity to answer that question. His stout
wife lumbered into the room, brandishing a rusted shotgun and a dusty
box of shells. "Gonna put a stop to this voodoo crap," she said.
Lifting the weapon from Mrs. Simplot's grasp as she passed, Constable
Fraser attempted to interject a note of reason. "Ma'am, let's take a
moment and discuss your situation."
Arlene made a grab for the shotgun, but her reflexes were slow and her
reach was short, the gun was already being handed to the Chicago cop.
"You two cain't stop me," she growled. "I gotta make that witch take
the curse off this house."
"Ok, Mrs. Simplot, you gotta gun-owner's card?" asked Detective Vecchio,
trying to slide back the weapon's rusty bolt to check the chamber.
Arlene looked at her husband, then back at the cop. Finally she shook
her head.
"Mr. Simplot, your wife will have to come downtown with us. Meanwhile,
I suggest you call the Orkin man," advised the detective pulling the
disgruntled Arlene outside where he could handcuff her, safely out of
reach of the crawly house guests. "Lucky you didn't try and shoot this
thing. Probably would've blown up in your face," Ray added as he passed
the rusted antique back to the Mountie.
The lace curtains at the center, second story window of the house behind
the Simplot's moved almost imperceptibly. "Who's the guy in the red
coat?" asked Maryellen Moonstone's sister Xarina.
"I think we should find out," answered Maryellen, carefully studying
the gorgeous man in red walking beside Detective Vecchio. Both sisters
smiled benignly as they watched their neighbor being dragged down her
sidewalk and placed in the backseat of Ray's Riviera.
Witches of Southwyck (part 2)
Ray was finishing the report on his late evening arrest of a prostitute
who'd tried to solicit him outside the 27th Precinct building. "Spell
your last name," he said to the young woman seated beside his desk. After
typing in the name, he couldn't resist one last question. "Why 're you
tryin' to turn tricks outside a police station?"
"Hey, some of these guys are my best customers," she said looking around
the room.
Two detectives dropped their eyes and stared determinedly at their desk
blotters.
"Ray," Elaine handed him a piece of paper with a name and an address
on Southwyck Street. "We got a complaint about a bonfire burning
dangerously close to the neighbor's garage. It's right next door to
that witchcraft call you went out on a few days ago. You wanna take
it, or should I send it down for one of the uniformed officers?"
"No," snapped Ray, annoyed yet somehow reluctant to let another cop handle
this particular call. "I'll take it myself." As he grabbed his coat
and hat, he wondered why he felt compelled to check out this complaint.
His shift was almost over and he was tired and hungry and looking forward
to the Blackhawk's game on TV. He should really call Benny and let him
know he wouldn't be meeting him for dinner, but somehow, that didn't
seem important.
He met Fraser on the stairs on his way down to the car. "Benny, I meant
to call you, I gotta check out a complaint." Ray began.
"Understood, Ray. Perhaps I'll just ride along with you."
"Whatever," Ray shrugged and hurried on past his friend.
There were eight people milling around on the sidewalk in front of Maryellen
Moonstone's house when Ray pulled the Buick up to the curb. Even from
the front of the house, he could see the dancing firelight reflected
off the neighboring buildings. The sounds of chanting and the wail of
some sort of eerie musical instrument drifted on the cold October wind.
"Which one of you called in the complaint?" the detective addressed the
group.
"I did, I'm Maude Arlington," said a diminutive, white-haired women.
"That fire's only a few feet from my garage."
"Yeah," added another woman. "And that bunch of wacky broads is scarin'
our kids half to death."
"Ok, folks, we'll handle the situation. You all go on home." Ray started
around the house in the direction of the fire, Fraser following closely.
At the rear of the house, several women circled a roaring fire, chanting
words unfamiliar to either policeman. Another woman sat cross-legged
on the picnic table, blowing into a flute-like instrument.
"Uh-oh," murmured Maryellen Moonstone. Catching sight of the approaching
men, she broke off her chant and halted her dance step. The other dancers
collided into one another and tried to keep their balance, teetering
dangerously close to the flames.
"Detective," welcomed Maryellen, giving him her biggest smile. "We're
so
glad you could drop by again."
Before Ray could speak, the earsplitting scream of sirens announced the
arrival of the Chicago Fire Department. Within minutes the backyard
was a chaotic scene of running firemen, snaking hoses, and water everywhere.
Surveying the sodden yard in disgust, Maryellen took the two policemen's
arms and guided them through the back porch and into her cozy house.
The rest of the women seemed to melt into the shadows and disappear.
"I thought we'd agreed no more fires," Ray began speaking in the kitchen
of Maryellen's house.
"We really *need* a fire, Ray," Maryellen explained. "It's difficult
to hold our, um . . . special emergency meetings without one."
Benton Fraser was gazing around the room with interest. Dried herbs
and plants hung from racks and rods on the ceilings. Unusual shaped
bottles filled with colored liquids were arranged on shelves and counters.
A rather large, ebony cat watched him through half closed yellow eyes
from a rocking chair in the corner of the room.
Reaching up, the Mountie fingered a vine-like herb with small, withered
berries still clinging to its stems. "Nightshade?" he asked.
"Yes, it makes a wonderful sleep-inducing syrup. Of course one must
be very careful not to take too much." Maryellen supplied.
Fraser raised his eyebrows and went back to his inspection of the herb
collection.
"Look, Ms Moonstone," Ray began again earnestly. "Like I told you before,
you can't have a bonfire in your yard. The whole side of Mrs. Arlington's
garage is blistered and charred."
"Never mind, Ray, how about some nice tea?" said Maryellen, completely
ignoring the fire issue.
The detective didn't protest when she seated him at the kitchen table
and began to prepare the brew.
The porch door slammed and Xarina entered the room, one of the firemen,
dripping soot colored water and looking extremely put-out, trailing along
in her wake. Xarina led the man to the chair beside Ray and shoved his
shoulders until he sat. "Feed him, he's very cross," she stated.
For several minutes the homey sound of crunching pastry and sipped tea
filled the little kitchen. The women leaned against the counter, smiling
complacently, while the three men enjoyed the food as though this was
a purely social visit. When they had finished every crumb of baked goods,
all three men slouched comfortably in their chairs smiling contentedly.
"What were you saying about the fire?" Xarina asked the fireman.
That man just grinned and shook his head unable to remember precisely
what he'd wanted to say about the near destruction of the neighbor's
garage.
Meanwhile, Maryellen was busy bagging goodies to send back to the firehouse
with the men who were just finishing rolling their hoses and reloading
their truck.
Sitting at the table, Ray was again experiencing that peculiar feeling
of contentment and the accompanying reluctance to leave. Very shortly,
however, he found himself being ushered out onto the sidewalk with his
two male companions, heading back toward the car and the fire engine.
From the lighted doorway, the sisters waved and called goodnight. "They
put somethin' in the food, Benny. I got the strangest humming in my
ears and I feel kinda weird."
Fraser nodded, he too was experiencing the not unpleasant humming and
the soothing feeling of content. He rubbed his temples and attempted
to clear his head but the pleasant fog remained making him lethargic.
A nagging little voice from somewhere deep inside his conscious was telling
him he should be concerned about being drugged and manipulated, but he
was finding that voice rather annoying and determinedly ignored it.
"I saw you put something into the Mounties coat pocket," said Xarina
to her sister.
"Mm," said Maryellen. "I put a few drops of monkshood oil on my hanky
and slipped it into his pocket. I mean for him to come back alone.
I find I have a rather strong desire to get to know him better"
Both women smiled. Monkshood oil on lace was a powerful spell. When
a man touched that scrap of cotton, he would be drawn inexorably back
to the last woman who had touched the hankie. Without a doubt, Maryellen
would soon be seeing her Mountie again.
* * * *
Back at the 27th Precinct, Fraser drank bitter vending machine tea and
waited for Ray to finish the report and drive him back to his apartment.
Jack Huey was sniffling noisily and fumbling for a handkerchief. When
Fraser reached into his pocket and passed the detective his own neatly
ironed and folded handkerchief, a small scrap of lace fell to the floor
unnoticed and lay partially hidden beneath his chair. Later that evening
Detective Barbara Doyle would find that lovely square of lace and tuck
it into her own purse, thinking what exquisite workmanship had gone into
sewing the dainty little hanky.
* * * *
And at the house next door to the bonfire scene, the elderly Mrs.
Arlington stood on her glassed-in porch and surveyed her collection of
African violets. Forty-two plants that had been blooming splendidly
the day before, were brown and withered. "The witches," she whispered
to herself, afraid even in her own home they might overhear her. Well,
she knew better than to complain again, better to try and ignore the
goings-on next door and simply file an insurance claim for the damage
to the garage.
* * * *
The Kroger Supermarket was nearly empty at seven o'clock in the morning.
Detective Barbara Doyle pushed her shopping cart through the produce
section, stopping to check the melons and pick out several tart granny
smith apples. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her weekly shopping
list and glanced down the neatly written column.
"Excuse me, I think you dropped this," said a voice behind the detective.
Turning, Barbara found a stock boy holding out the tiny square of lace
she'd found on the floor of the precinct last night.
"Thank you. It must have fallen ." She never finished whatever she'd
been about to say. A jolt, not unlike an electric shock, seemed to spread
from the young man's hand to hers when she grasped the hankie. For a
long moment, her whole body tingled from the shockwaves. The detective
stared deeply into the very young man's hazel eyes and knew she'd never
experience anything so earth-shattering in her entire forty-six years
of life.
The eighteen-year-old stock boy was being similarly affected. As he
returned Barbara's gaze, their fingers still touching, he knew beyond
a doubt, this was the woman he was meant to spend eternity with.
When the pair finally recovered something of their scattered senses,
they joined hands and leaving Barbara's half filled shopping cart and
the stock-boy's box of orangesthey walked out of the Kroger and into
the sunrise of a brand-new day, their eyes still locked on each others.
* * * *
The moon was a tiny sliver through the leafless trees. Maryellen Moonstone
held the dead chicken gingerly in front of her. Her
otherworldly clothing was slightly marred by the addition of the plastic
gloves. "I am not holding this thing with my bare hands," she had informed
her sister in no uncertain terms.
"You're ruining the effect," whispered Xarina in disgust. "And if the
others find out you bought that chicken from Herman the butcher and didn't
kill it yourself like the ritual book says, well," she didn't need to
finish the sentence.
"A dead chicken's a dead chicken," responded Maryellen, pragmatically.
"This one from the meat market will work just as well." She smirked,
remembering Herman the butcher's confusion when she insisted he leave
the feathers and feet on the headless stewing hen.
As a concession to the local ordinance, tonight's fire was a small one,
contained within a topless metal drum. The assembled women thought the
scene had lost a lot of its romance, but having the cops and the fire
department interrupt every meeting simply wasn't acceptable.
"We have gathered here this night to cast a spell for our sister, Crystalline."
Maryellen intoned, holding the bird high before her. "Crystalline caught
her husband in a compromising situation with his secretary. It is Crystalline's
fondest wish that her husband regret his little indiscretion and return
home immediately."
The ladies around the fire nodded in agreement and the flutist began
to play her eerie music. In a language as old as the fire, the women
called on their sister spirits to help them right this wrong.
* * * *
At Lucerne's, a fine downtown restaurant, Stephen Taylor was staring
deeply into the eyes of his female companion. Stephen was not a terribly
attractive man, in fact several people had remarked on his resemblance
to the actor who'd played the role of Barney Fife in the old television
series. Frankly, he still couldn't believe his luck. His
twenty-one-year-old, drop-dead-gorgeous secretary had agreed to have
an affair with him. It was unfortunate that his wife, Crystalline, had
found out about his little fling; however, he didn't intend to let that
stand in his way. After all, it wasn't every day that someone like Barney
Fife had an affair with someone who looked like one of the Baywatch babes.
The Baywatch look-alike sipped her expensive champagne and watched him
as he took a bite of his escargot. The first indication that something
was amiss was when Stephen pointed to his throat and began to make grotesque
faces. Soon he was thrashing around on the floor, holding his throat
and looking extremely uncomfortable.
When the paramedics wheeled him from the restaurant, Stephen was turning
an alarming shade of blue and his eyes were rolling upward into his skull.
The statuesque blond stood on the sidewalk in front on Lucerne's and
watched her date being loaded into the back of an emergency vehicle.
Tapping her trim little foot in irritation, she wondered how in the heck
was she supposed to get home. She should have lifted the car keys out
of Steve's pocket while he was rolling around on the floor.
Witches of Southwyck (part 3)
Maryellen's potions *never* failed to work. This was very disturbing.
The herbal oil she'd applied to her lace hankie should have brought the
handsome Mountie back to her house in a very short time. Well, she'd
have to try some stronger magic. She slipped a tiny, handsewn red
jacket carefully onto a wax figure. Removing the brass-colored button
from her pocket she studied the insignia. He'd been so befuddled when
he left her kitchen a few nights ago, he hadn't even noticed when she'd
plucked the button from his tunic and slipped her own hankie into his
pocket.
Maryellen hummed tunelessly as she tied the button and wax figure into
a square of silk with some dried flowers, feathers, and a jet black stone.
Binding the small bundle in scarlet ribbon, she lay it beside a silver
bell.
* * * *
"I seem to have lost a button," Benton Fraser told Jackie Chen, the dry-cleaner's
son. "Perhaps you could sew this one on in its place." He handed the
young man the extra button.
"Sure," the boy said absently. Jackie hadn't even heard the customer's
request because the Stone Temple Pilots were blasting from the Walkman
directly into his ears. "Whatever."
Fraser nodded to the elderly widow, Mrs. Frinkman, as he passed her on
his way out. As she piled her weekly dry-cleaning on the counter, she
watched Jackie trying on Constable Fraser's uniform jacket. "Young man,
you take that off this instant. That is not your coat," she said tugging
at the sleeve.
A jolt strong enough to short out the Walkman sizzled from Mrs.
Frinkman's fingertips into young Jackie Chen, causing a momentary paralysis.
When he recovered his senses, he vaulted over the counter that separated
him from the object of his desire. "Please, ma'am, may I walk you home,"
he said, taking her hand reverently and steering her toward the door.
Mrs. Frinkman left her cane propped against the counter as she exited
on the arm of her new beau.
* * * *
"Detective Ray Vecchio is in charge of cases involving witchcraft," smirked
Elaine. "That's him there, at the back of the room." She pointed to
the man leaning back in his chair, feet crossed on his desktop, eyes
closed.
"Hey, I got a complaint," the man in the mechanic's uniform shook Ray's
shoulder with enough force to almost topple him from his chair.
"Wha," the detective said groggily. He'd been the big winner at last
night's poker game, but today, he didn't feel much like a winner. Rubbing
his eyes, "Sit down, we gotta fill out a form."
"My wife gave some woman five hundred dollars to make our cocker spaniel
an amulet." began Bob the mechanic. "That's gotta be against the law,
right."
"Yeah, I suppose," said the detective trying to push the report form
into his antique typewriter. "Who'd she buy the amulet from?"
"Some weird gal named Maryellen Moonstone," supplied Bob. "My wife thinks
this Maryellen's a gen-u-ine witch or somethin'."
Ray paused, form poised above the typewriter. "Why would she buy an
amulet for a cocker spaniel?" he asked in disbelief
"Dunno," said Bob, shrugging his shoulders. "My wife said Rocky that's
our dog anyway she said Rocky ain't been happy lately. Said he needed
some kinda charm or somethin'."
Ray Vecchio sighed inwardly. He didn't want to investigate this
complaint but he couldn't not investigate it either. He felt an
uncontrollable, inexplicable urge to protect Maryellen and her group
from the consequences of their own actions. "So you're telling me your
wife paid five hundred bucks for a happiness-potion for a dog?"
"Yep," confirmed Bob. "And I want my money back."
* * * *
"I can deal with serial killers, junkies, thieves but I'm havin' a hard
time dealin' with these witches, Fraser," complained Ray Vecchio as they
drove home after a Blackhawk's game.
"What, exactly, have they done now, Ray?" the Mountie asked.
"Maryellen Moonstone sold some woman a magic-dog-potion," Ray said with
an absolutely straight face.
Fraser looked at his friend closely, he seemed to be sincere. "That's,
um . . . is that against the law?"
"How the hell should I know. I guess it's some kinda fraud," Ray replied
in exasperation.
"What did Miss Moonstone say?" Fraser asked.
"Well, she said something about the dog being reincarnated from an Egyptian
slave and that the dog was having trouble resolving some issues from
his past," Ray tried to remember exactly what Maryellen had told him.
"Ahhh."
"By the way, she asked me to give you this," said the detective pulling
a small box from the pocket of his overcoat.
"It appears to be . . . " the Mountie paused to study the small object,
". . . chocolate candy?"
Diefenbaker reached forward from the rear seat and neatly plucked the
chocolate from his master's fingers. The morsel was swallowed whole
before Fraser could shift in his seat and retrieve it. The wolf
retreated to the side of the car farthest from Fraser and prepared for
the lecture he knew was coming. It had been worth it, he thought, licking
his lips.
* * * *
Fraser rolled out of his cot in one smooth motion. The sun shown through
his window, a crisp fall breeze wafted in. A beautiful day. Something
was missing the wolf. "Diefenbaker," he called. He looked behind the
room's only furniture, no wolf. He checked the fire escape, no wolf.
No wolf in the hall, no wolf in the bathroom. Hm. He dressed quickly
and went outside to search for animal.
Meanwhile, several miles away in a quite neighborhood: "Get off my feet,
you overgrown bag of fuzz," snapped Maryellen Moonstone shoving at the
wolf laying across her shoes. The animal had arrived two hours ago and
attached himself to her like a siamese twin. Maryellen wasn't sure about
the significance of this, but she had her suspicions.
A large black cat perched on top of the refrigerator, back perpetually
arched, fur standing on end, glaring balefully at the large wolf. "Shhhh,
pet," Maryellen soothed her unhappy friend, "we'll be rid of this beast
very soon."
Diefenbaker looked up at the woman through worshipful eyes and whined.
* * * *
Detective Vecchio found Fraser several blocks from his apartment asking
passers-by if they'd seen a silver wolf lately.
"Fraser, get in," Ray called from his car. "Miss Moonstone called me,
says she has a large wolf in her kitchen."
Although relieved to hear his pet was found, Fraser had a bad feeling
about Diefenbaker's whereabouts. "This can't be a good sign, Ray. Why
would Diefenbaker go visiting a witch?"
In the cozy little herb-lined kitchen, Diefenbaker studiously ignored
Fraser and remained glued to Maryellen. The Mountie tried everything
from cajolery to threats to bribes, but nothing would detach the wolf
from the woman's side.
Maryellen busied herself at the stove, brewing an herbal tea, trying
not to trip over the furry lump under her feet. "Sit down and have a
cup, Constable Fraser," she urged.
Fraser eyed the brew suspiciously. Warning bells were going off in his
head. 'Don't eat, drink, touch anything,' a small voice whispered to
him. 'Run'. "Thank you, ma'am, but I'll just get my wolf and be going."
"Perhaps your pet will feel like going with you *after* you drink your
tea." The woman held the cup out to him smiling like someone with a
secret.
"Miss Moonstone, Diefenbaker ate a piece of candy meant for me," Fraser
began, confirming Maryellen's suspicions. "I'd appreciate it if you
would give him the antidote."
Maryellen considered the matter for a moment. She could deny it. On
the other hand, she certainly did not intend to hold the oafish wolf
hostage in exchange for the man. There had to be a better way to achieve
her goal. Reaching into her cupboard, she withdrew a tin of candies.
"Here," she fed one to the wolf.
Picking the animal up bodily, Fraser carried him out to Ray's Buick and
dumped him unceremoniously into the back seat. For several blocks, Diefenbaker
stared longingly out the rear window, then he seemed to perk up considerably
and sat forward, panting into Rays's ear as they drove home. Apparently
the antidote had kicked in.
"Hm, that one's very clever . . . " mused Maryellen, ". . . for a man,"
she added sarcastically as she watched *her* Mountie depart carrying
his pet. "I can't imagine why he's resisting so hard." Her lovely forehead
was creased in a puzzled frown.
Witches of Southwyck (part 4)
Another emergency meeting of the Southwyck circle was called that Friday
evening. A cold rain and temperatures near freezing forced the women
to convene their meeting inside the house. White candles, blue candles,
red and purple and black candles covered every horizontal surface in
the old parlor. Tables, windowsills, piano, bookcase, all held flickering
candles. Thirteen women sat in a circle, holding hands, singing softly.
"Our sister, Zephyr, has been passed-over for a promotion she deserved.
We gather here tonight to right this wrong." Maryellen addressed her
group. "Zephyr was next in line for the anchor- chair at WBRC. The
station manager gave the position to Mike Little."
Zephyr nodded in confirmation, a large tear sliding down her flawless
cheek. "He lisps," she said, shaking her hooded head.
Twelve other heads nodded in sympathy. They were here to make sure Zephyr
got the job as anchor-woman.
"What do you think, ladies? Warts?"
Heads nodded again.
Maryellen reached deep into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a small
vile. Shaking the contents she emptied them into a silver cup. Dipping
her finger into the liquid, she began to smear it on an eight-by-ten
photograph of the newsman, Mike Little.
* * * *
At WBRC Television, Mike Little was preparing to go on the air in his
first newscast as anchorman. He paused in front of the mirror to inspect
his hair one last time. A huge, disfiguring brown lump had popped out
at the end of his nose. He sat down in the closest chairsuddenly feeling
faint. Yes, there was another ugly lump on his chin, and another on
his lip. Poor Mike closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to look into the
mirror any more.
* * * *
"I needed that five-hundred dollars to buy a new fishing rod and reel,"
Bob said.
"How can you be so selfish?" cried his wife, Ariela. "Rocky is *family*
and he needed that magic charm." She hugged her little spaniel and glared
at her husband.
"Nobody else would have been stupid enough to pay that much money for
some hocus-pocus for a dog," Bob argued.
"Don't you call me stupid!" shouted Ariela, storming out of the living
room and into the bedroom, dog still in her arms.
Bob heard the bedroom door slam and the telltale click of the lock.
It looked like he'd be sleeping on the sofa tonight. He sat for a few
minutes, thinking about how that weirdo, Maryellen Moonstone, had taken
advantage of his simpleminded wife. The more he thought about it, the
angrier he got. "I'll get my money back," he said rising from the sofa
and heading for the door. "If the cops won't help me, I'll just go and
get it myself."
It was only a three-block walk from his house to Maryellen's place on
Southwyck Street. He stood on her front porch for a while letting the
anger build while he told himself that she was some kind of con-artist
that deserved to be taught a lesson.
The lady's meeting had broken up an hour ago, only Xarina, Zephyr, and
Maryellen remained, drinking tea and chatting. The thundering pounding
caused all three women to jump.
When Maryellen opened the door, Bob came inside in a rush, shoving her
hard against the wall. "I want my damn money back!" he shouted at her.
"You've made a very serious mistake," Maryellen said cooly. "Leave now
and I will forget this incident."
Bob laughed nervously, he'd never tried to intimidate a woman he wasn't
married to. "If you don't give me my money, you'll be sorry," he said
a little hysterically. Stepping forward he shoved Maryellen again, this
time sending her sprawling onto the floor.
"Call the police," Xarina told Zephyr. "I'll get your money," she said
to the man. "How much do you want?"
He jerked the purse from Xarina's hands and scooped out the cash inside.
He counted eight- hundred dollars. Well, he'd just take it all, he decidedfor
the trouble they'd caused him. "You bitches stay away from my wife,"
he hissed throwing the purse at Maryellen, who still sat on the floor.
He backed through the door and found himself outside again, heading for
home at a brisk pace.
Maryellen was having a difficult time standing, her ankle had apparently
been injured in the fall. "He will surely regret that," she remarked
as she hobbled toward a chair.
"I called the police, they should be here any minute," said Zephyr, hovering
over the injured woman, wondering what to do next.
* * * *
Ray was finishing off the best T-bone he'd had in weeks when his cell
phone rang.
"Ray, I knew you'd want to take this one yourself," Elaine's voice sounded
amused "Your witches are in trouble. . .again. The guy who was in
here a couple days ago filing the complaint just broke into their house
and robbed them."
With an oath, Ray snapped the cell phone closed. "Ok, Fraser, more trouble
from the ladies over on Southwyck. We'd better get over there."
"Ray, perhaps you could just drop me off at my apartment. It won't
be much out of your way," Fraser had no intention of ever visiting those
particular ladies again.
"Not on your life, Benny. I ain't goin' into that haunted house alone."
When they arrived, they found Maryellen, her foot propped on a stool,
the other two women fussing over her. "Don't worry, gentlemen, he won't
have gotten far," Maryellen assured the policemen.
"Precisely what does that mean?" Fraser wanted to know.
"Oh, I just have a feeling you'll probably catch him near the park,
about a block from here." Maryellen commented, rubbing her sore ankle.
The rain had stopped but a fine mist continued wetting the two men before
they reached the park. It was very dark there. No overhead street lamps
brightened the moonless night.
"This is a damn wild-goose chase," grumbled Detective Vecchio turning
his coat collar up to minimize the moisture seeping down the back of
his neck.
The Mountie stopped abruptly, dragging Ray to a halt beside him. "Do
you hear that?" he said, his eyes searching the deeper shadows beneath
the
trees.
"Help me," it was barely a whisper.
"It's over there," Ray said moving cautiously toward the voice.
"Whoever it is, he's up in this tree," Fraser stated, peering up into
the leafless branches.
With a crash, an oath, and a groan of pain, Bob descended from the tree
and landed in a heap at Fraser's feet. "You guys gotta help me," he
moaned, clinging to the Mounties leg.
"Get a grip, man," Ray said as he attempted to pry the frightened man
off his friend.
Fraser finally managed to shake himself free, and stepped back several
paces. "Why on earth were you hiding in that tree?" he asked.
"She sent a demon after me," Bob whispered. "It came outta nowhere and
attacked me."
Fraser was studying the man's face. Even in the darkness, the cuts and
scratches were obvious. "You say something attacked you? Was it a dog?"
"It was a demon!" Bob shouted. He looked fearfully over his shoulder.
He was afraid he might provoke it again by speaking too loudly.
All three men stared into the darkness and listened. The wind sighed
around them sending leaves swirling with soft rustling sounds. The
tree branches rattled and somewhere close by a gate with a rusty hinge
creaked.
"Let's get outta here," Ray suggested propelling the unresisting Bob
before him.
As the three walked back the way they'd come, a car turned the corner
and came toward them, temporarily illuminating the area. Off to the
side, near a planting of shrubs, two eyes glowed redly in the car's
headlights.
Fraser stopped, "It's Maryellen's cat, Ray. I recognize it from the
last time we were at her house. It looks . . . larger, somehow."
The hair was standing up on the back of Ray's neck. Not bothering to
answer, he shoved his prisoner into a faster walk. The two block journey
back to Maryellen's seemed endless. All three men kept glancing over
their shoulders . . . just in case.
* * * *
"I need you to take me to the emergency room," Maryellen told Fraser.
"I think my ankle is broken."
"Perhaps your sister or your friend could drive you," Fraser suggested.
"No, I need *you* to take me," Maryellen repeated clearly. "I can't
walk. I need a big, strong man to lean on," she added giving him a helpless
look.
"You go ahead, Fraser. I gotta get this guy downtown and book him,"
Ray didn't seem to mind throwing his friend to the wolves, so to speak.
Trying not to appear reluctant, Fraser gathered Maryellen's car keys
and helped her out to her car. "Cook County General is the closest emergency
room," he suggested.
The ER was a lively place on Friday night. Fraser was fascinated by
the variety passing in and out of the waiting room. Maryellen, however,
didn't care to have his attention wandering too far from herself. Holding
tightly to his hand, she kept reminding him how much pain she was suffering
and how bravely she was enduring it. Fraser's hand was growing numb,
but he didn't complain. He sat stiffly beside her and agreed with every
comment she made.
Finally a nurse escorted them into a curtained area and directed
Maryellen to sit on a high table. After another short wait, a tall doctor
with thinning hair and wire rimmed glasses entered the room.
"I'm Dr. Greene, I understand you've injured your ankle," he bent and
began to examine Maryellen's leg.
The exam took a long time. The doctor carefully manipulated her ankle,
her foot, her leg. Maryellen watched him closely. His hands were large
but gentle. His voice seemed so very pleasant and he smiled at her frequently,
reassuringly. It wasn't until the Mountie moved slightly that Maryellen
even remembered his presence. She looked at the man standing patiently
beside her. He was gorgeous, possibly the most delicious man Maryellen
had ever seen. The doctor, on the other hand, wasn't as handsomehis
hair was thinning, his face pleasant but not beautiful. Well, she had
a recipe that would grow hair thick as grass in a matter of weeks, and
the glasses were kinda cute. Yes, this doctor was special, he had a
qualityshe couldn't quite put her finger on it. And of course rich,
doctors were all rich, that would be very nice.
"We'll need to keep you here for x-rays," Dr. Green was saying. "It
doesn't seem to be broken, but we want to make sure." He was writing
in her chart.
Maryellen made up her mind. The Mountie was difficult, the doctor would
be easier. "Benton, go home," she said.
"If you're sure," Fraser was halfway to the exit.
All the way home, Benton wondered if Maryellen was angry with him. And
if she was, what would she do about it? Well, there was nothing he could
do but go home . . . and wait.
End
Marna
[email protected] |
11180004 | Take Two | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, OC - Character",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Anonymous",
"chapters": "7/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-12T00:00:00",
"words": "10,294",
"Additional Tags": "Silly OC garbage, Time Travel Fix-It, Korkie is a Kenobi",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze",
"Series": null,
"Collections": "Anonymous",
"Fandoms": "Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | Satine Kryze, or as she was more commonly known these days, Loren Peret, hummed as she tended her garden. She had never been invested in something so simple in her previous life, and she wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t miss that life sometimes. But this was good too.She never would have expected this to happen to her. After she lost her throne and was forced to rely on her friends for help, she thought she had lost everything. But then, her darling, her Obi-Wan had found her and helped her.She frowned, remembering how she had gotten to where she was now. She had been staying with her friend, the Senator of Riddeel when the attack on the Jedi temple occurred. She’d been terrified, worried about Obi-Wan, and then, as things only devolved further, worried about her people under this new regime. She knew no one would come out on top of this, except the Emperor.She’d assumed Obi-Wan was dead until she’d been informing Mon Mothma that, though she disagreed with their methods, she was friendly to their cause, when an underling had come in to show off the new Top Ten Most Wanted list.She’d been stunned when she saw Obi-Wan on that list. Knowing she was a friend of his, Mon had traded the fact that he was on Tatooine for information on troop routes through the Outer Rim.She’d made it out to the Outer Rim and spent three weeks seeking him out. Finally she saw him at Mos Eisley, a small outpost on the western hemisphere of the world. She’d followed him through the desert until he confronted her. When she’d lowered her hood, he’d stared at her in shock, then did something that shocked her.He kissed her. It was not their first kiss, not by far, but though they’d been rekindling their relationship after Mandalore was taken over, she’d assumed nothing would come of it. He was too dedicated to his ideals, after years of clinging to them. But she still kissed him back after a moment of shock.“Satine…” He murmured after pulling away. “I thought you were dead.”“I escaped the expulsion of Senators because Palpatine assumed I had no more power. I’ve been looking for you.”“How did you find me?”“I’ve been giving Mon Mothma what little information I have. She helped me find you.”“Really?” Obi-Wan sounded shocked.“I may not condone all their actions, but I will not simply stand by while the galaxy is brought to ruin by the Emperor.”“Of course you wouldn’t. I didn’t mean to imply…”“I know, my dear. What have you been doing?”“Satine… I trust you, you know that. But what I’ve been doing is too vital to risk it getting into the wrong hands.”“You are afraid I will be captured and my mind invaded.”“For more than one reason.”“Then I will not press you.”“Where have you been staying?”“Various small inns around this planet.”“Come back to my house.” He chuckled. “More of a hovel, really. Certainly not fitting for a Duchess, but I hope you will accept.”“Former Duchess,” The words still hurt, but she knew he understood her acceptance from her words. He lifted her hand and kissed it before leading her through the desert.It had only taken three months for her to learn the truth about his mission, and another for the truth about Skywalker to come out. By then, he trusted that she would stay, and knew that if they found her, they would have found him and Luke anyway.Her face returned to a smile as her daughter, Hart came up to her. Hart was a darling, though she frustrated Satine in that she took after her father in too many ways. She’d tried her best to pass on her hatred of violence, and while Hart agreed, to an extent, she was a touch too willing to resort to violence as a last resort for Satine’s comfort.She’d also inherited the ability to use the Force, unlike her elder brother Korkie, born long ago. Obi-Wan had taught her the very basics, but was afraid that teaching her more would only draw attention to all of them.Hart was a source of joy to both of them, particularly as she had been the reason Obi-Wan had had the opportunity to grow close to Luke. Owen and Beru Lars had been reluctant to associate with them, but they hadn’t been able to explain their reasoning to the curious five year old who wanted to meet “the baby,” and later, the young teen who offered to babysit for her.Obi-Wan kept his distance still, but he had grown fond of Luke, not just as Anakin and Padme’s son, but as a person in his own right. Satine thought that would make it easier when he finally revealed all the truths to him, kind and ugly.“Come on in, Mom. Dad’s made dinner.” The fourteen year old said.“I’m coming, darling.” She walked inside, knowing Obi-Wan was worried. He’d been on edge all day, and she knew he knew something was coming. When he brought Luke and the droids back to the home the next day, it almost wasn’t a surprise at all.-Luke startled awake first. Where was he? He’d been meditating with Hart and Leia when all of a sudden things were different in the Force. Things felt… lighter all of a sudden. He popped his eyes open and peered around. He was in a hallway somewhere, on a ship he could tell from the movement. It looked almost like the hallway of a Star Destroyer, but not exactly. Besides how would they have ended up there?He saw Leia and Hart, looking disoriented as they stirred from the floor.“Luke?” Hart began, the same moment Leia made the same query, but in his head.“I don’t know! Why do you guys always think I’ll know?”“Because you’re the most trained of us three,” Hart replied, in her strange blend of an accent. It mixed Tatooinian and upper class notes into a strange harmony.“And you’re the one strange things always happen to,” Leia added.“That doesn’t mean I know anything. These things just happen and I have no control over it.”Just then, three men come around the corridor. They’re identical, clones. Leia immediately goes into battle mode, reaching for her blaster, and failing that, her saber. When her hands close around where they should be, there is only empty air.Instead, she raises her hands forcing the clones not to move.“Sith!” One of the clones shouts.“Excuse me?” Leia demands, her surprise knocking the clones free.“Well, what else would you be? You have the Force, and Jedi wouldn’t attack us.” Another spoke.“Oh really? After all your people have done, you think that?”“Leia…” Hart began. “Maybe we shouldn’t antagonize them. They are the ones holding the blasters after all.”“Hart is right, Leia. Let’s see what’s going on here before we go accusing anyone of anything.” Luke agreed. Leia wavered, but stood down.The clones immediately raised their blasters.“You need to come with us.” Each clone took one of the three, and they started down the hallway.-Anakin Skywalker frowned as he peered at the three lightsabers that had just appeared on the table beside him. What were these doing here? How could they just appear out of nowhere?He didn’t have long to examine them, however, as three troopers, he believed their names were Kickback, Hax, and Blast entered, pointing their weapons at three strangers.Obi-Wan turned to the strangers immediately, noting their strangely familiar Force signatures.“Who are you?” Anakin demanded.“That’s what we were trying to figure out,” Blast said. “They speak like we’ve done something wrong, like they’re Separatists, but they don’t act like Sith.”The three stiffened at the accusation that they were Separatists, and Anakin thought they probably weren’t. No one was offended by a true accusation after all.“Separatists?” The shorter girl began.“Yeah, don’t go acting like you didn’t accuse us of anything.” Hax said.“I think there is a bit of a misunderstanding here,” The taller girl began. “Perhaps the Jedi can clear things up.”“What exactly do you think has happened?” Obi-Wan asked.“I’m afraid you won’t believe me, but I will try to explain. Did you feel a disturbance in the Force just a few minutes ago?”“Yeah,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan agreed.“That was us, arriving.” The boy put in.“From where?” Anakin asked.“That’s not the right question,” the shorter girl said.“Then what is?” Obi-Wan asked.“Well there’s no easy way to put this…” The taller girl said. “So I suppose I’ll just say it. The correct question is from when. What year is this?”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
In his shock, Anakin blurted out the year. The girls looked grim in response.“That’s about what I thought.” The taller girl said.“What are you talking about?” Obi-Wan spluttered in shock.“Come on, you know we’re telling the truth. Check the Force if you don’t believe us, D- deal?” Obi-Wan looks at her strangely, but closes his eyes and attunes himself with the Force. Anakin does the same. After a moment both agree. Strange as it is, the three are telling the truth.“So we believe you. Who are you?” Anakin asks. The taller girl speaks first.“Hart Peret.”“Leia Organa.”“Luke.” Obi- Wan raises an eyebrow at the lack of last name but doesn’t question it.“And you are?” Leia asks.“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”“Anakin Skywalker.” Leia’s face grows a touch of distaste, despite her attempts to hide it. Anakin is confused. Why would the Organas’ daughter dislike him so much?But whatever, that’s a problem for later.“If you truly are from a different time, and I would assume it is the future given you recognized the name of the Separatists, when are you from?” Obi-Wan asked.“About twenty five years from now?” Hart said. “Give or take a few months.”“That’s a strange accent,” Anakin said. It sounded vaguely Tatooinian, but not quite. He couldn’t place it.“Yes it is.” Luke agreed, none of the three elaborating.“I’m not sure how much we should be telling them,” Luke said. “After all, we can’t compromise the timeline.”“I’d rather compromise the timeline. I’ll sacrifice myself to make a better future,” Leia argued.“Is it even possible?” Hart asked in concern. Anakin was reminded of Ahsoka. They had the same “young girl who’s been through too much” atmosphere.“Well,” Leia said in a heated tone. “If we are changing things, I guess the first thing we should say is that-” Luke threw his hand over her mouth, eliciting quite a glare.“Leia, perhaps we should talk before revealing too much. Let’s not be hasty.” Leia’s glare intensified, but she stopped speaking.“So are you Jedi then?” Anakin asked, after a long moment of uncomfortable silence.“Yes, we are.” Luke said.“What ranks should we address you as?” Obi-Wan asked.“Oh, just call me Luke,” he began. Seeing as that wasn’t going to be enough this time, he added. “I’m a Knight, and so is Leia, here, but she prefers to be addressed as General.”“I’m Luke’s Padawan,” Hart added.“Where’s your braid?” Anakin asked.“In our time, it’s not always the best idea to go broadcasting that you’re a Jedi. So we did away with the braid tradition. And the robes, most of the time.” Hart said. It prompted Anakin to notice the three’s outfits. Leia was dressed in what he recognized as Alderaanian traditional wear, Luke wore a Jedi’s robes, and Hart was dressed simply in a pair of pants and a button down shirt. They made an odd combination. But strangely two of them seemed to fit together particularly well. The way Luke and Leia stood together… it just seemed to be right. It reminded him of himself and Obi-Wan. “May I ask why it has become dangerous?”“Put it simply, the Sith won.” Leia said.“The Seppies won?” Anakin asked incredulously.“No. Not the Separatists. No one won this war except the Sith. The Emperor and Darth Vader.”“Emperor?”“Yes. The Sith leader, I believe you called him Sidious declared himself Emperor after… everything.”“And you were fighting to reclaim the galaxy, I hope, General,” Obi-Wan put a special emphasis on the title. Leia gave a vicious grin in response.“We did reclaim it.” Luke and Hart grinned as well.“We haven’t yet totally pushed the Empire out, but Vader and the Emperor are dead. There’s a real power vacuum that the Empire hasn’t been able to fill properly.” Leia continued. Anakin and Obi-Wan grinned as well. The news that it would take years for their enemy to be defeated was discouraging, but they were pleased to know that he would be defeated.“We’ve been able to move on to reconstruction efforts. My fiancee, General Han Solo-” Leia cut herself off suddenly. A wave of grief was felt through the Force.“I’m sure we’ll get you back to him.” Anakin comforted her. Obi-Wan looked more stunned.“Your fiancee?” He demanded.“What’s wrong with that?” Leia asked.“Having a fiancee is against the Jedi code in this time period,” Hart explained helpfully. “General, the Jedi in my time were hunted down like animals by Sidious and Vader. We have had to completely reform the Jedi. And, particularly given Luke, here, we don’t frown on attachments.”“You don’t?” Anakin asks in shock and a bit of wistfulness.“No. Attachments can lead to Falling, but so can many other things. And attachments can lead to redemption as well, as Luke showed.”“What are you talking about? There is no redemption for the Sith.” Obi-Wan said.“That’s what we all thought too,” Leia smiled up at Luke. “Except Luke. You see, he and Vader had a connection. Luke used that to bring him back to the light.”Anakin and Obi-Wan stared at the trio in shock. They’d never considered that possible before. But they felt no dishonesty coming from the three, just pride in Luke.“Well, all this has been… illuminating.” Obi-Wan finally said. “I must contact the Council and inform them of your arrival. Anakin, why don’t you… find somewhere they can stay until we arrive back at Coruscant?”“Sure, Master.” Anakin agreed, as Obi-Wan walked back to the center of the room to holo-call the Council.“We’re nearly there already,” Anakin said, moving away from the table he’d been standing at. “You arrived at a good-”“My ‘saber!” Hart exclaimed, before blushing. “Sorry Master Skywalker.” Luke very nearly opened his mouth to reply- though Hart rarely called him by his title, given they’d known each other since childhood, it wasn’t unheard of and his instinct was to respond to it- but Anakin spoke first.“Oh, these? Do these lightsabers belong to you three? I completely forgot about them until now.” Luke, Leia, and Hart nodded eagerly, moving to collect their sabers. Hart frowned when she grabbed hers. It was her father’s old lightsaber. If she wasn’t careful the Obi-Wan of now would recognize it. She supposed she could always say he trained her before Luke- it wouldn’t even be a lie. Though Luke was her Master in name, her dad had taught her some basic tricks as a child, primarily shielding so that Vader wouldn’t find her.She nodded her head. Yes, that was what she would do if he recognized the saber. She slid it into her holster and followed the other three.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Anakin led Luke, Leia, and Hart to the break room. He watched them settle into seats, all three of them squeezed onto a small couch.“You can probably wait here until we arrive. It should only be a few hours.”“Thank you,” Luke said. All three were more somber now, thinking on what they had left behind. Anakin wanted to ask more about the future, but it seemed cruel to bring it up now.Hart was curled up into the side of her Master, as was Leia. Anakin was amazed at the easy affection between the three. Though he loved his Master like a brother, he’d never been that physically affectionate with him.“I’ll leave you three alone, then.”The three sat in exhaustion, contemplating their new future.“Are we going to have to live through a war, again,” Leia asked, but her tone showed she’d already accepted it.“Looks like it.” Agreed Luke.“Guys, it’s not so bad.” Hart said. Luke and Leia snorted.“You only say that because you didn’t experience battle until three months ago. You’ve barely been in a war at all.” Leia said.“You guys always treat me like I’m a kid!” Hart pouted. Luke and Leia exchange a fond grin and laugh.“That’s because you are.” Luke said, gently. “It’s not a bad thing.”It’s at that moment that an orange skinned Togruta entered the room.“Skyguy told me you’d be here.” She said. Hart’s eyes went wide as she recognized who that must be.“You must be Ahsoka,” Luke smiled warmly.“How’d you know?”“I was trained by Master Obi-Wan in my time. He mentioned you.”“Oh. That makes sense.” Ahsoka said. Luke could tell she was pleased. “Skyguy didn’t mention you were trained by Obi-Wan.”“It didn’t come up.”“Really? That seems like it would, what with Master Obi-Wan being right there and all.”“We were somewhat busy discussing the time travel.” Hart said.“Right.” Ahsoka let out a heavy breath. “That’s so strange. I know you’re not lying, but I just can’t believe you’re really from the future!”“I can’t either, and I’m from there,” Leia said. This made Ahsoka smile sympathetically.“I’m sorry. I know how awful this must be for you. Master Obi-Wan is going to ask the Council if they’ve ever heard of something like this happening before and he’ll check the Archives as well. If anyone can find a way to get you home, he can.”“Thanks.” Leia offered, though Hart could tell it was only to be polite.A few hours later, they arrived back at Coruscant. They were met with Masters Windu and Plo Koon when they landed, who led the group of Jedi back to the Temple.Having arrived at the Temple, the six headed inside. Younglings cast curious looks at the newcomers as they walked through the Temple.Soon they reached the Council Room, entering before the people of the Council. Obi-Wan had already briefed them on the basics of the situation, but the Masters wanted to meet the people in question themselves.They walked in, and all noticed how familiar they seemed but none could yet figure out why.“Greetings, Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker.” Yoda began. “These future Jedi, introduce to us.”“These are Knights…” Obi-Wan began.“Organa.”“Just call me Luke.” Luke still insisted on not revealing his last name.“Padawan Peret.”“Masters, have you ever encountered such a thing before?” Obi-Wan asked.“Yes.” Yoda said simply, surprising everyone. “Rare, it is, but happened before, this has.”“And what exactly happened that time?” Hart began diplomatically.“Returned to fix the past, young Jedi did. Times of great danger, this foretells. But danger averted, is possible.”“So we can fix things.” Leia got on her politician’s face.“Indeed. Once this comes to pass, return will you.”“So we will return to our own time?” Hart questioned, sounding relieved.“But will it really be our own time?” Leia asked. “If we’ve changed things so much.”“Change things in this timeline only. Split, the timelines have. No need to fear.” While this was going on, Mace Windu was peering at the three. Suddenly his eyes went wide as he realized why one of the three seemed familiar. “No.” He said. Everyone looked at him quizically. “Don’t tell me.” Luke seemed to realize what he had figured out and fought back a grin.“Yes.” Luke responded. Hart giggled, figuring it out as well, and Leia smirked.“What is going on?” Master Plo Koon asked. Mace stood up and physically moved Luke so he was standing before Anakin, and gestured to the two.“Do you see, or should I say sense, anything now?”Slowly, the Masters around the room opened their senses, seeing the two Force signatures- the very similar Force signatures, too similar in fact- and made the connection, looks of horror growing on most of their faces, though a few were tinged with amusement. Obi-Wan was the last to make the connection, not wanting to think ill of his former Padawan.“Oh, Anakin,” He moaned when he put it together.“What?” Anakin asked, lacking the outside perspective to aid him in figuring it out.“Your last name,” Master Plo Koon began gently. “I am correct in assuming it is Skywalker?” Luke nods, and Anakin’s eyes go wide.“What?” His voice is at a slightly higher pitch than usual.“Anakin… how could you break the Code so egregiously?” Obi-Wan demands. Hart and Leia exchange silent, unnoticed smirks.“I- well- I, that is, I haven’t done it yet!” Anakin defends himself.“And refrain from doing it in the future, you shall.” Yoda shakes his head. “A warning, this is. Forbidden, attachment is.”Anakin bows his head, while Leia openly scoffs. Luckily, she is not who everyone is paying attention to at the moment.“I know, Master. I will not allow this to happen in our timeline.” There were grumbles all around the Council Room.“Well as fun as it is discussing Master Skywalker’s flaws,” Leia spoke up sarcastically, saving Anakin from further embarrassment. “I'd really prefer to discuss what we're going to do now.” The masters frowned at her, but agreed that was important.“That greatly depends on what you want. We will find you rooms here in the Temple that you can stay in, and duties you can do around the Temple.” Mace Windu spoke.“We have fought in a war already. While we are willing to aid you, perhaps that is where we would be best placed,” Leia replied. The masters seemed relieved.“It would be a great aid to have more soldiers,” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi said. “We can grant you field commissions based on your previous positions.“Masters, meet General Leia Organa and soldier Hart Peret. I was a Captain.”“Then you shall retain those ranks.” All three nodded in response. “Now, Knights, Padawan, we must discuss the information you have given us.”Anakin, Luke, Leia, and Hart left the Council Room together to allow the Master to confer. Anakin was still staring at Luke wide-eyed.“You, you're really-”“Your son.”Leia smiled at Hart. “Come on, Hart. Let's give them some space.” And the two left the father and son alone.
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“The figured it out so fast!” Hart worried aloud to Leia in her new room. Shortly after they'd left the Council room, a Padawan was sent to show them to their rooms. It appeared Leia had her own apartment, while Luke and Hart would be sharing, as they were Master and Padawan.“It's only because they were suspicious of us. And because Luke wouldn’t give them a last name. They won't figure us out so easily.” Leia reassured her.“That's good. I don't think Dad is exactly ready for that.” Hart giggled at the idea of her dad finding out. She knew her birth wasn't the first time he broke the Code with her mom, given her older brother, but she also knew he hadn't known about the results of that indiscretion at this time. He wouldn't find out until he met back up with Satine in a few months, and she informed him of the child.Leia grinned at the comment.“And I don't imagine Anakin is ready to hear he has twins either.” The girls laughed at the thought.“So what are we going to do?” Hart asked.“We’ll help the Jedi, and hopefully keep Anakin from turning, and hope it will be enough to get us home.”“I miss mom and dad.” Hart muttered. “I think it’d be easier if he wasn’t right there, you know?”“Probably. It’s so strange. Our parents are alive, but-” Leia’s eyes went wide. “Our parents are alive!” Hart was confused for a moment, because, yes, they knew that, but then she realized what Leia meant.Bail and Breha Organa were alive.“Well, we’ve got to go see them then,” Hart said. She couldn’t imagine losing her parents- her whole planet- like Leia had. Her parents had had a few close calls over the years of the Rebellion, but they’d always survived.“How? They won’t believe me, and they can’t tell the truth through the Force.”“The Council will have to announce this to the Senate, of which your dad is a member. They can’t just introduce two new Jedi Knights, one of whom is a General without explanation. You’ll see.”“Are you sure?”“Yeah. Mom and Dad told me a lot about the Council and the Senate when I was a kid. And I’m sure your parents will want to meet you after they hear about you.”“If you’re certain.” Leia said, a bit of hope blooming on her face.-Hart was right. It was only a few hours later that the Council explained the situation to the Chancellor, who then explained it to the Senate.“Senators! I bring good news from the Jedi Council.” He announced when the Senators came in for the afternoon. “It seems something we all would consider impossible has occurred. Three Jedi from our own future have arrived in our time.” A wave of disbelief ran through the crowd.“Yes, I was reluctant to believe it as well, but the Jedi assure me this is possible, and that they have tested these Jedi’s claims thoroughly. We now have more Jedi to help in our fight, and moreover, Jedi who can help us avoid some of the mistakes we may have otherwise made.”That garnered some hesitant approval.“Chancellor? May we have the names of these Jedi?”“Padawan Hart Peret, Knight General Leia Organa,” That also garnered some surprise, as all of course recognized the name as that of the Senator from Alderaan, Bail. “And Knight Luke Skywalker.” That got an even bigger response, all the Senators wondering about him.In their pods, Bail Organa and Padme Amidala were sitting in shock. Those names… were they the names of their children? Bail felt a surge of delight go through him at the possibility that he would have a child, then a flash of fear at the idea that the child would be taken at a young age to be raised by the Jedi. Padme was worried about the ease with which Luke used the name Skywalker. Would her husband lose his place in the Jedi Order?But both agreed now was not the time to worry about it. Now was the time to meet their children.-That evening Anakin hurried to Padme’s apartment. She greeted him at the doorway with a kiss and a question.“Luke Skywalker… is he ours?”“Yes,” Anakin breathed out, delight clear on his face. “He’s so wonderful, Padme. We spent the afternoon together after we found out who he was. I’m in for such a scolding from the Council and Obi-Wan, but it’s so worth it.”“Tell me about him.” Padme knew it would be difficult to arrange a meeting with him without raising the Jedi Council’s suspicions about their relationship.“He reminds me so much of you, angel. He’s so kind and loving. Did I tell you, he redeemed a Sith Lord! Brought him back to the light, because he’s that kind.”Padme was shocked.“How?”“He wouldn’t get into the details. I think he was afraid of revealing too much about the future. He says revealing too much might just unravel everything, because things we expect to happen might happen differently if we’re prepared for them, and then we’ll be in trouble.”“But he’s wonderful. He’s a pilot like me! He flies fighters in something called Rogue Group. He’s Rogue Leader.” Anakin’s voice is full of pride.“Fighters?” Padme asks, worried. Anakin’s face darkens.“Yeah. That’s what they’re here to change. I guess the Sith won in their universe. Sidious and his apprentice took over. It sounds awful, but with them and their knowledge, I’m sure we can change things!”“I hope so. Do they know who Sidious is?”“I don’t think so? I think they would have mentioned it if they did. Maybe they’re waiting on it though.”“He sounds like he’s a lot like you too, Ani. Brave, strong, ready to do good in the galaxy…”“I guess so. A perfect mix of both of us.” He grinned at the thought. “I can’t believe in a few years he’s going to be ours.”“How old is he?”“He just turned twenty-three. Oh and guess what? Obi-Wan trained him too!”“I can’t believe Obi-Wan agreed to train another Skywalker, after you,” Padme teased.“I think Luke was probably much less of a headache for him.” Anakin admitted.“Did… he mention any siblings?”“A sister, though he wouldn’t tell me much about her. Leia Organa met up with us for some of it. She told me Luke was a war hero, though he was too embarrassed to mention it himself.”“A war hero?” Padme was distressed at the news. She was proud of her son, but disappointed there was a war for him to be a hero in.“I know, Padme. I wish he didn’t have to be either. But since he is, I figure I’ll be proud of him for what he’s accomplished.”“Yes, I suppose. So he’s good friends with the Organa’s daughter?”“Yes.”“I wonder how they’re dealing with the news. They’ve always wanted a child after all. I should make sure to introduce them. Well, Bail anyway.”-Meanwhile, Bail Organa was frantically trying to explain what had happened to his wife over holo-cam.“... and the last Jedi that came is named Leia Organa.” Breha’s eyes went wide.“She’s ours?”“I can’t be certain. I’m going to ask Padme if she can introduce us. After all, she’s friends with Skywalker.” Bail and Breha exchange a look. They know Padme and Anakin are more than friends.“Think of it, darling. In just a few years, we could have a daughter!” Breha smiled at Bail’s words.“But you said she’s a Jedi. How… will they take her away from us?”“I suppose I will have to ask Leia. Oh, Leia, such a beautiful name.” The two smile and bask in the familial affection the day’s news has brought them-“Master Kenobi!” Hart calls out, running up to her oblivious father.“Padawan Peret.” He greets her with an incline of his head. If anyone had been passing by, they’d have noticed the matching strides and similar reddish hair of the pair. But no one was.“I wanted to ask. What will the Council do now?”“Well, they will likely call you back tomorrow to further discuss what you know of the future, and what you can share with us. After that, they will seek out fitting missions for you three.”“Already?”“We are a bit short on resources at the moment. It will be necessary to send you out so soon.”“I’d better brush up on my fighting.” Hart muttered.“What form do you specialize in?”“Er. I don’t know? Masters Luke and Leia and I didn’t get much opportunity to learn different forms. What with…” She waves her hand in gesture meant to encapsulate the entirety of the future. “Everything. We just kind of, you know, figured out what worked. No one who taught the younglings the basic forms survived, so we had to glean things from what various masters remembered.”Obi-Wan frowned at the reminder of the horrible future that could occur. How could it fall apart so easily? Hart placed a hand on his arm to reassure him.“It was all very terrible, but it worked out alright. I’m sure we’ll make it better here.” Hart said. Obi-Wan envied the hope in her face. It had been a while since he’d been that optimistic about the future.“I’m sure we will, Padawan.”
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The next morning as Luke, Leia, and Hart headed down to breakfast, they could hear the whispers around them.“Knight Skywalker…”“Future…”“Sith plot...”The three smiled. As prominent members of the Rebellion, or in Hart’s case, the child of a prominent member, they were used to whispers. They carried on getting their trays of food and as they were walking, a youngling came up to them excitedly.“Is it true?”“Is what true?” Luke said.“You’re Master Skywalker’s son?” The youngling asked. Luke sighed, but tried to hide it.“Yes, I am.”“Wicked… What was it like?”“Hey, listen, kiddo.” Hart replied. “We can’t tell you too much about the future, because it’s very dangerous to know these things. But if you promise you can keep a secret, we’ll tell you something about the future.” The boy’s eyes went wide.“What? I can keep a secret, promise.”“We won.” The boy gasped excitedly.“Really?” Hart nodded confidently.“Thanks, Padawan! I’ll keep it secret.” And the boy rushed off.“Thanks.” Luke said.“No problem. I’m good with kids. And I know that’s not a topic you want to get into.”“You’ll have to figure out something to say though.” Leia said. “Distraction will only work for so long.”“I know, I know.”As they continued to walk along the food line, Luke began to tug on Hart’s ponytail with the Force. Hart was confused for a moment before working out what was happening.“Luke!” She giggled, pulling her ponytail around to her front. Luke was about to respond when they noticed the initiates and padawans around them go silent.“What?” Hart asked them. One padawan spoke up.“You called Knight Skywalker by his first name.”“Yeah?” This only seemed to make the silence more oppressive.“We don’t call masters by their first names! It’s disrespectful!”“Well, there’s two of them now, how else am I supposed to refer to him? Besides I’ve known him since before I could walk.” As the younglings stared at her in shock, she continued past them down the food line.When she went around to find a place to sit, she heard faint snickering from the table where the masters and knights sat. She was surprised to find Master Kit Fisto being the cause.“There’s two of them now…” he repeated, still snickering.“I’m sorry, Master. I wasn’t aware you were listening.”“Oh I was. Don’t worry, I’m not offended. If using first names works for you and Knight Luke, that’s what works.”“Thank you, Master. I’ll… go find a place to sit.”As Luke and Leia sat down with the other knights, Hart looked around for a place to sit. Having grown up on a sparsely populated world, she didn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. Then she noticed Ahsoka waving to her, and sighed in relief.-After breakfast, they were scheduled to go before the Council again. Hart met back up with Luke and Leia and headed back to the Council Room.As they entered, they saw the masters around the room smile at them, trying to reduce their tension.“Tell us of your world, young ones,” Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke first. Hart exchanged a glance with the others before stepping forward and wow, dad wasn’t lying when he said going before the Council on your own could be intimidating! She took a deep, calming breath and began to speak.“Well I was born after everything that happened happened. It’s a wonder I wasn’t found and killed because of Order 66, but I suppose I was lucky, growing up on an Outer Rim world.”“What is this Order 66?”“The government order to kill all Force sensitive beings in the galaxy,” Luke sighed. The room was silent for a long moment.“I’ve only ever known the Empire, but that’s true of all of us. Luke and Leia had maybe a day or a month respectively as citizens of the Republic.”“I grew up being told that the Jedi were simultaneously a myth, and traitors to the Republic,” Luke added. “The Emperor wanted no one to stand in his way. Eventually, I was trained and joined the Rebellion.”“Who trained you?”“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Luke smiled as he said the name, and Obi-Wan stared back at him in surprise. “He was the one who got me to safety after Order 66, and he took me to my relatives on Tatooine. Afterwards, he watched over me as a neighbor to make sure I was never found.”“Of course he did,” Kit Fisto laughed under his breath. “Padawan Hart, you mentioned knowing Knight Skywalker as a child. Did Master Kenobi notice you as well while he was watching over Luke?”Hart smiled. She had planned to say that exact same thing.“Yes he did. I was a neighbor of Luke’s family, the Lars’s. Luke went off to join the Rebellion, and about a year later, I did as well. Master Obi-Wan helped me with some of my early training as well, in fact. He didn’t want to draw attention to me, as he would have by training me fully, but he taught me a few useful tricks, like shielding my mind so Vader and the Inquisitors wouldn’t find me. Er, the Inquisitors were the people sent to, well, murder Force sensitives.”“Our training relationship was a bit unorthodox,” Luke said. “I started teaching Hart while I was still being trained by Master Obi-Wan. She was… frustrated that he wouldn’t train her for her own safety.” The masters shot a look at Hart, asking for explanation.“What can I say? My dear childhood friend was a Skywalker. Some recklessness was bound to rub off on me.” Hart joked. It did not go over well. “But honestly, I wanted to help. My friends were dying in the war, and even my parents were at risk. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing!” This got a better response.“After I was fully trained, I took Hart on as an official Padawan. By then, Leia had expressed an interest in being trained, so Master Obi-Wan agreed to train her as well.”“Well, Obi-Wan, looks like you’re going to have your hands full in a few years,” Shaak Ti said, to break the tension.“Quite.” Obi-Wan spoke, a little overwhelmed, facing his own future.“I think it’s time we told them,” Luke said after a long moment. “You know. Who Sidious is?”“No!” Hart said. “We can’t! Master Obi-Wan never told you this, but if they try to arrest him, Order 66 goes into action automatically. You know what that will do.”“How do you know that?” Leia asked.“Master Obi-Wan wouldn’t teach me about the Force, but he did teach me my history. Sidious already has too much power. He can do too much damage. We can’t tell them!”“Then we will wait to find the proper evidence. We can keep it quiet that we know who Sidious is.”“I don’t think you can. It’s too big a surprise! You already know him, you see.”“Hart, I think it will be okay.” Luke reassured her.“No! He’s too clever! You know how clever he was in our time, and that was when he was old! He’s in his prime now. If the Jedi Council starts treating him differently, and they will, they can’t not, he’ll notice! He’ll know we told them! It’s a miracle he hasn’t already put Order 66 into effect!”“We know Sidious?” The cry went up from multiple people.“You’re wrong,” Leia said. “He knows we know. He’ll assume we told the Council. He knows either way.”“If you say so, Master,” Hart put emphasis on Leia’s title. “But on one condition. This doesn’t leave this room. No one else can know.”“Of course,” Luke agreed. All three looked at each other, none willing to do the deed. Luke nudged Hart and Leia.“You two are the politicians. Tell them… diplomatically.” Hart rolled her eyes. Leia stepped forward.“Darth Sidious’ true name… is Chancellor Sheev Palpatine.”And that’s when it really hit the fan.
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“Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith?” Mace Windu demanded. Luke nodded, sighing.“I know this must come as a great surprise to you, but it’s true. Just think of all the emergency powers he’s already granted himself because of this war. I assure you, they will only increase.”The Council watched them in horror as the idea of the Chancellor being a Sith Lord sunk in.“Anakin…” Obi-Wan muttered. “He’s manipulating Anakin.”“Probably,” Leia agreed with no comfort in her voice.“We’ve got to stop him!”“Right.” Hart spoke slowly. “But we can’t arrest him. He’s got this whole plan to make it look like you’re traitors to the Republic and just trying to take over in place if you do that.”“Those reporters,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said. “The ones who claim that, the ones we dismissed as sensationalists. They’re being influenced by him.”“You see? He’s already wormed his way into a comfortable position. You’ve got to be careful, subtle if you want to stop him.”“I’ve got to tell Anakin.” Obi-Wan said.“No! We agreed this doesn’t leave this room, and that includes Anakin. He can’t keep a secret like that! Either he’ll feel betrayed by Sidious and confront him, or, if Sidious is manipulating him, he might even think we’re lying, and that will push him even closer to Sidious!”“Right, she is.” Yoda said. “Tell Knight Skywalker, we cannot.” Obi-Wan doesn’t like the idea, but he says nothing.“Then what do you suggest we do?”“Limit Palpatine’s contact with Anakin. Encourage him to seek us out instead.” Kit Fisto suggested.“That’s a good place to start. We should also include him in our mission to seek out evidence against Palpatine.” Mace Windu added.“Maybe you should wait though. Until you have solid proof?” Hart suggested hesitantly. “Master Obi-Wan once told me that in my timeline you tried to get Anakin to spy on Palpatine, and he was able to use that to bring Anakin further onto his side.”“You need to reassure Anakin about his fears,” Luke suggested, getting a few uncomfortable looks.“We respect your beliefs and Code, of course,” Hart tried to be diplomatic. “But surely there must be something you can provide so that he doesn’t feel the need to confide in Palpatine.”“I suppose we can try,” Obi-Wan began dubiously. “But he’s not a child. He really must learn to release his anxieties into the Force.”“Of course,” Hart smiled, not entirely pleased but glad they were going to try.“What else can you tell us about your timeline?” Mace Windu asked“How about we compile a list of everything we can remember being told about this time, and present it to you?” Luke offered.“Good idea.” Mace responded. Just then, Yoda groaned. Everyone turned to him, inquiring.“A disturbance in the Force. Intruders there will be, in this Temple.” Everyone went wide eyed.“You are dismissed, Knights, Padawan. We must discuss this revelation.” The three nod and head out of the Council Room.As they walk, Leia speaks to Hart.“Do you know what’s happening? Did your father ever tell you about a break-in at the Temple?”“He sometimes told me stories when I was a young girl. I think someone is trying to get a list of Force sensitive children? Or something?”“Then we have to tell the Council.” Leia said.“Oh, it all worked out fine. I’d rather not interfere in something that worked. What if we somehow mess it all up? Or worse, we do stop it, but Palpatine tries again later and that time succeeds? No I think we should just let it play out the way it did before.”“I agree. We should only tell them what they absolutely need to know.” Luke said.“And does that include Vader’s identity?” Leia began, softening the blow by placing a hand on Luke’s shoulder.“No. Not unless they ask directly. They might ostracize Father if they know, and that will only push him further to the dark.” Leia doesn’t look certain, but agrees not to bring it up when Hart nods.“If you two think so.”They catch sight of Anakin up ahead of them, who turns and greets them.“Knight Organa.” He began. “Bail Organa asked that I set up a visit between the two of you.”“I would be pleased to accept that offer.” Leia replied, grateful for the chance to see her father.“Great! He’ll be happy to hear that. I can show you the way to his apartment.”“Thank you, Knight Skywalker.” Leia has managed a level of civility with the man. She doesn’t think she can ever forgive him what’s he’s done. But this version of him hasn’t done it yet, she supposes.Leia and Anakin head off to the speeder garage together while Luke and Hart remain behind.“Well, Padawan, mine. Let’s see what this Temple has to offer.” Luke suggested.“Indeed, Master,” Hart mocked back, offering up her arm to him.-When Leia arrives at Bail Organa’s Coruscant apartment, Anakin waits awkwardly outside.“I’ll stay here so I can direct you back to Temple, but I’ll stay out of your way. Actually,” an idea occurred to him. “I’ll visit my friend, Padme. I haven’t seen her in a while, and she lives nearby.“You know, I do know who Luke’s mother is, right?” Leia rolled her eyes.“Oh.” Anakin responds. “Don’t tell anyone, please?” Leia takes a moment to think about the surreality of this. Darth Vader is saying “please” to her. She nodded anyway.“You know how we feel about the Code. I’m not going to tell on you.” Anakin sighed in relief.“Thank you.” It’s at that moment, Bail opens the door. Anakin stiffened, worried he may have overheard, but he says nothing, and Anakin relaxes and walks off to Padme’s apartment.“Comm me when you’re done, Knight Organa.” He says as he leaves. Bail takes in a quick breath at the reminder of her last name. Leia barely noticed either of them, as she is too busy staring at the man who raised her in shock.He looks slightly different, younger, but he’s the same man she’s always felt is her true father. She can’t help herself from running to him and hugging him.“Leia,” He muttered into her hair.“Dad,” She replied. They stand like that for a long moment before pulling back. Both scan the other’s face desperately trying to take in everything.“So it’s true.” Bail finally said. “You’re my daughter.”“Yes.” She said. And in that moment she resents the possibility that they will change things, because for all the good it will do, it will end with her not being raised by the Organas. And how could she ever want her younger self to not have them to be her parents?“Oh you don’t know how long we’ve wanted this. Or perhaps you do,” Bail said. He led her inside and showed her where to sit down.“Would you like something to drink?” Bail offered.“Water is fine.” Bail moved to follow her instructions, carefully removing a glass and filling it. He poured himself one as well, and moved to the couch she has sat down on.“How… how old were you?” Bail began.“How old was I when what?” Leia worries he’s figured out his own death from her reaction.“When the Jedi came to take you. I understand they will take children up to age six. How long did we get with you?”“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I know you won’t tell anyone. In my future, the Jedi, they’re slaughtered. There is no Jedi Temple in my time. Luke is trying to rebuild the Order, but they never came for me. I wasn’t trained until I was twenty one. Master Kenobi trained me alongside Luke.” Bail’s eyes go wide as she speaks.“I see.” He murmured.“I know. It's a terrible thing to have happened.” Leia said, thinking of every tragedy from her past.“I shouldn't be happy that I got you for your whole childhood, not when it came at such a cost.” Bail said.“But I am.” Leia agreed.The two sit in silence for a long moment.“You should know. If we're successful, you won't be able to raise me.” Leia hates herself as she says the words.“What? Why not?”“Because, and this is top secret, I am the daughter of Padme Amidala and Anakin Skywalker. I don't want to deprive my younger self of you and mom. But what we do will save so many lives, you can't even imagine.”“I understand.” Bail began.“No. You don't. This isn't just about saving my birth parents. This will save whole worlds. And I understand if you are upset with me but I can't just let those people die. Not if I can stop it.”“Well. Breha and I must make excellent parents to have raised a girl like you.”Leia laughed, a few tears spilling out.“I want you to be my dad, in every universe.”“And I would love to raise you. But if the stakes are as high as you say, I am willing to make a sacrifice.”-Luke and Hart found the sparring room while Bail and Leia spoke. They practiced eagerly, before a tall master they don't know came in.“Knight Skywalker and Padawan Peret, correct?” The man began. Luke and Hart nod.“I’m Master Keva. I train the younglings in their forms.”“Oh. Nice to meet you,” Hart said in greeting.“I mean no offense, but your forms seem very… loose.” He responded. Hart and Luke exchange a look.“How much do you know about our time?” Luke begins.“The Council is trying to keep things under wraps, but many of the masters know what happens. I don’t know much, but I know enough. I understand what will happen to me.”“Then you understand why our forms are loose. We were never taught these forms.”“What? Never? The remaining masters never taught you anything?”“We were somewhat focused on other things.” Luke said.“Well, you, Knight, have managed fairly well, but the Padawan could use a few lessons.” Luke brightened up.“Do you think you could teach her? If we’re going into a war, I want her to be prepared.”“I suppose she could sit in on some of the lessons. I have one in just a few hours in fact.” Hart looks between the two, stunned.“Luke, no! I don’t want to sit in on lessons with a bunch of younglings!” Luke ruffles her hair affectionately.“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Padawan. I’m your Master and I say so.” Hart makes a face back at him.“Hart, I only want you to be safe. You don’t have the practical battle experience of Leia and I, so I want you to learn any way you can.”“Fine. I’ll play with the younglings.” Master Keva chuckled.“I think you’ll find my lessons a bit more than play. These forms are difficult, and you’ve never done them before.” Hart takes the challenge to heart.“I think I’ll do excellently.” Luke keeps his grin to himself.-In the end, both Keva and Hart are right in their assessments. Hart takes to the forms naturally, but has a great deal of catching up to do. She finds herself exhausted by the training by the time she drags herself back to the apartment she shares with Luke.Inside, Leia sits across from Luke in the small sitting area. Hart thinks she sees Leia wiping away tears, and looks away quickly. She and Leia are friends, but not as close as she and Luke. She supposes it only makes sense that Leia would be emotional after her visit with her father, and moves to match the two some tea.She can’t help but overhear some of Luke and Leia’s conversation.“And then, he holo-called Mom. I wish I could have touched her as well, but just seeing her again was… amazing.”“I’m sure it was.” Luke sounds wistful, and Hart wonders if he is thinking of Anakin and Padme or Beru and Owen Lars.“Tea!” She announces, bringing the pot over to the other two and breaking the moment.“So how was ‘play with the younglings’?” Leia asks. Luke must have told her what she’d said.“Good. I got some of the simpler forms right away, so when I proved I could remember them, Master Keva taught me some more advanced forms.”“What style do you like best of what he showed you?” Luke asked, curious and wanting to learn more about the old Jedi ways.“I think I liked Soresu best. Master Keva told me that’s dad’s preferred form too! He knows Dad is my, I think he called it ‘grandmaster.’” Hart huffs. “I wish Dad would have taught me more of this stuff when I was younger. It wouldn’t have put me at much risk.”Luke and Leia exchange silent looks, communicating effortlessly.You’re her Master. Leia begins.
Oh no. I’ve already had a hard discussion with her today.
You think my day wasn’t hard enough? Luke sighs, agreeing with Leia’s assessment.“Hart, I know you want to learn as much as you can about the Jedi… but I imagine talking about it must have hurt Ben. I can’t imagine any other reason he wouldn’t share it with you. Think about it. He lost everything when the Jedi fell. That must hurt.”“I know it hurt, Luke. I’m the one who grew up with him. You think I didn’t hear his nightmares from the next room over? Mom and Dad tried to hide it, but they were always there. I just don’t understand why he never tried to create new, good memories over the bad ones.” She storms off to her room at the conclusion of her words, and Luke sighs.“I have a new respect for everyone who’s ever raised a child.” He mutters. Leia giggles, and Hart, having overheard, lets out a huge sigh of frustration.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The next day, Hart, Luke, and Leia arrive before the Council. They stand respectfully outside the doors and wait for their turn to speak.When they are called in, Hart and Leia step forward, they being the two who know the most about the future.“My father witnessed a good deal of the fallout from Chancellor Palpatine's actions.” Leia begins. “He told me about it.”“And I've already mentioned that Master Kenobi taught me more history than anything else.” Hart adds.“It started with the corruption of a Jedi.” Leia begins. “Palpatine corrupts a Jedi to his side and convinces him to aid him in the downfall of the Jedi.”“When he'd turned him, he executed Order 66. That was the government order to kill all force sensitive beings in the galaxy, particularly those trained as Jedi. There is a chip in the clone troopers. It turns them into mindless drones. Worse than droids, they can only follow orders. Order from their Supreme Commander. Palpatine.”“The clones spread about the galaxy kill their Jedi, and those clones close to Coruscant march on the Temple. They, and their Fallen Jedi, kill everyone here.”“The younglings tried to hide. They were slaughtered in this very room.” Hart whispers, remembering the horrifying memories that her dad had never wanted to share with her, but that had leaked out one night when his shields were down.The Council members look rightly horrified.“After that, Palpatine was able to use the claim that the Jedi had attempted a coup to explain it away, and to give himself even more power, naming himself Emperor. His powers only grew from there until he eventually dissolved the Senate itself.” Leia cuts back to the more impersonal, though still awful, matters.“Over the years, rebellion sprung up. They started the Alliance to Restore the Republic, shortform, Rebels. They grew and grew as the Empire committed more and more atrocities. I joined the Rebellion when I was fourteen, though I didn't see battle until near the end.” Hart explained. “I found out that my older brother had joined as well then.” She smiled at the memory. Her parents had known Korkie had joined the rebellion, but they all hadn't wanted to worry her. It worried her more not seeing him for months at a time!“I joined at the same time, at nineteen.” Luke joined the fray.“I'd been part of it for longer than these two, and I was captured by the Empire and Darth Vader. They… destroyed my home planet of Alderaan because I wouldn't tell them the location of the Rebel base.” Leia falters on the words, and Luke grips her shoulder comfortingly.“How?” Ki-Adi-Mundi began. “How could they destroy an entire planet?”“The Death Star.” Hart said, allowing Luke and Leia their moment. “A superweapon the size of a moon. But with one fatal flaw.” She grinned. “Luke here destroyed it.”“It wasn't that fatal a flaw.” Leia argued. “Not just anyone could destroy it.” She smiled at her brother.“Just- let me hype it up, okay Leia? Let me have my moment.” Hart grinned at her nonetheless, and Leia gave a shaky smile in return.“I'm on Hart’s side.” Luke said. “Really guys it wasn't a big deal!”“Only a Force sensitive person could have made that hit, and we don't exactly have an abundance of them. Even most force sensitive people probably couldn't do it, or at least would need more time. Face it Luke, you did a good job.” Leia told him.“Alright, alright. Let's get back to telling them what happened.”“That was the beginning of the end for the Empire. After what they did to Alderaan, no one could support them. The rebellion got stronger and though it took a few years we managed to take them down. We're in the rebuilding stages now, primarily.” Hart shrugged.“How could Palpatine name himself Emperor? Surely people would protest that.” Saesee Tiin asked.“It's early in the war for you. He hasn't taken too many liberties with his powers yet. But he will only continue adding to his power. And worse, for a long time, people liked him and trusted him. Very few saw how corrupt he was becoming. Or rather, always was.” Leia said. “And he took out any opponent who dared to get too close to the truth. By the time the general people thought to stop him, it was too late. He'd seized too much power.”“He ordered the murder of children! How could people still support him?”“The Jedi’s reputation had seriously degraded by the end of the war. People kind of believed it was possible you tried to take over. You'd compromised your morals enough times over the years that it wasn't unbelievable. And most people assumed the children hadn't been killed, just taken somewhere else. By the time people got suspicious, as Leia said, it was too late.” Hart shrugged.Mace Windu had very silent throughout this conversation. Finally, he spoke.“This Fallen Jedi. It's Anakin Skywalker, isn't it?” He looked like he hated to be speaking the words and like he hoped to be wrong. Hart nodded anyway.“He was.”-There was a cacophony of noise at that, everyone having their own reaction to this news. Finally it was punctured by Obi-Wan’s horrified exclamation.“How? How?” Everyone on the Council looked at him with sympathy, then Mace spoke.“If you mean how did I know, it was the only conclusion, given they've already said Palpatine is manipulating him. Palpatine is only particularly close to one Jedi. Anakin.” Obi-Wan shook his head as Mace was speaking.“Not what I meant.” He said. Luke spoke then, gently.“If it helps at all, he had the best of intentions when he fell. He wanted to protect the people he loved and end the war.”“Luke, I think the most important thing to emphasize is that he came back. Vader- Anakin- is the person Luke brought back from the Dark Side.” Hart told them. Leia stayed out of the conversation, knowing she had nothing good to add.“We have to tell Knight Skywalker about the Chancellor.” Ki-Adi-Mundi said. “I know we told you we wouldn't tell him, but we can't risk that in our universe.Hart looked ready to protest, but Leia put a hand on her shoulder.“Hart, I think we need to risk it. Knight Skywalker may be more willing to believe his own son than to believe a Council with no proof.”“We won't even try anything else? Just jump right to telling him everything?”“We don't need to tell him everything. Just enough to convince him. Hart, we don't exactly have unlimited tries to get this right. There's only one opportunity here, and I think we need to take this risk.” Leia said.“I agree.” Luke added, getting a betrayed look from Hart. “We don't know everything that led to his Fall, and we don't know how our actions will affect this. For all we know, hiding this from him could be the impetus to his Fall here.”Hart made a nasty expression, but knew when she was beaten.“I still think this is a bad idea.” She grumbled.“And I outrank you.” Luke replied serenely.With that, the council meeting was concluded. |
11199225 | Fallout Drabbles | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Paladin Danse (Fallout), Female Sole Survivor",
"Fandom": "Fallout 4",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by SeigePhoenix",
"chapters": "3/3",
"completed": "2017-07-18",
"published": "2017-06-14T00:00:00",
"words": "4,925",
"Additional Tags": "Oral Sex, Smut, Drabbles, Fluff, Angst",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor, Paladin Danse/Sole Survivor",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | “Danse!” Her voice sounded like she was so far away, it was muffled in his ears. He felt as if his head was stuffed with cotton. The edges of his vision greyed as the stab of pain in his head intensified. She needed him but he couldn’t overcome this. The darkness settled over him like a warm blanket and he felt nothing else.Cool, soothing strokes against his face registered in his mind. His face turned towards those fingers. Her voice murmured comforting words in his ear. “Hey soldier, you gave me a ggod fright.” His eyes opened but it felt like they were made of sandpaper. The room was filled dim light, casting shadows everywhere. He saw her outline next to the bed, she had changed out of her armor and into a shirt and jeans.“Where?” His throat was raw, fire licked at it as he tried to talk. He jumped as the cool ceramic pressed against his lips.“Here, drink some water. It’ll help that throat feel better. We’re at a small abandoned settlement in the city, Hangman’s Alley. There are defenses set up so we’ll be safe here until you recover.” Moira whispered to him as she helped him drink the refreshing water.“How?” She smiled as she set the empty cup aside. Her fingers brushed some of his hair off his forehead.“You got grazed by shrapnel from that missile. Luckily, I was wearing my power armor. I could drag you here since we were close by.” Moira tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and he followed the movement with heavy eyes. He noted she didn’t wear her wedding ring anymore.“Sorry.” He tried to sit up but she pushed him back down with surprising strength.“No Danse. You need to rest and recover from that wound.” He clenched his teeth in irritation. A soldier should not let a paltry wound keep them down. He looked up at her in irritation but found only warm sympathy. She understood his frustration and helplessness, more than anyone he suspected.“I don’t like this.” He grumbled as he laid back down. Her warm chuckle soothed some of his irritation.“I know. Settle down now and rest.” Moira directed as she stood up. He closed his eyes and gave up fighting sleep. His sleep was fitful, full of nightmares and bloodshed. Ever since he’d discovered what he was, he’d withdrawn from everyone. His sleep was never restful anymore, not since he hated himself.Danse struggled against the dream. The roar in his head as the missile headed straight for Moira. Instinct kicked in and he reached for her with a strangled cry. A weight on his chest kept him from moving and he heard his name. His eyes jerked open and he stared into concerned blue ones above him. His heart thundered in his ears as he fought to bring himself to reality. Awareness came slowly to him as he realized the weight in his dream was her body on top of his. Her soft hair fell over her shoulders as she sat up. Her thighs straddled his waist and had his blood pumping for a reason other than adrenaline. Her voice registered as she spoke comforting murmurs and stroked his face. He let his head fall back against the pillow in exhaustion. Lavender enveloped him as he closed his eyes. The smell reminded him of good memories, and her laughter. It soothed the dark spots in his soul. Despite everything, even finding out he was a synth, she stayed true to him. Always beside him and supporting him, even when he’d withdrawn from her.The juncture of her thighs was flush against his waist, and the heat there registered in his slogged brain. Also noted, she was not wearing pants. Awareness flashed through him like a lightning bolt. He stiffened beneath her and she looked down at him in concern as he cleared his throat.“Why are you straddling me?”“You have a head wound and you’ve been trying to sit up all night. This was the only way to keep you down.” Her answer seemed logical, but he wasn’t feeling very logical right then. All he heard was she’d been pressed against him, but he’d slept through it.“Ah. Alright then.” Danse grimaced at how pathetic sounded. She shifted her weight against him, unwittingly grinding her hips just above his aching groin. He groaned and she stilled. “You’re moving…”“Oh! I’m sorry!” Acting on pure instinct he grabbed her hips, surprised at finding them bare. “Danse?” Her voice was only a whisper in the darkened room. He fought to find his famous discipline. She felt too good in his hands, smelled too good against the backdrop of Boston. He wanted to bring her to him and devour her to satisfy the dark need in him to possess her. The dark room obscured her features but she seemed to understand what he needed. Her lips brushed his as she leaned down, her hands cupped his cheeks. Hunger tore at him, the need to take, and he tightened his grip on her. Her lips glided over his chin and jaw while her hands slid down over his chest. His dick hardened as she nipped at his ear. She carefully avoided the bandage. Moira understood that he needed to feel alive and real. Her lips opened against his throat, tongue tasting the skin there. A low purr sounded in her throat as she rubbed her center over his hardening cock. The heat seared him through the fabric of their clothes. A dark oath escaped him as he brought his hands up and threaded them through her hair.“Easy. Let me.” Her lips moved against his throat, sliding over his skin. He clenched his teeth as a wave of liquid heat spread through him. His heart was hammering against his ribs and he wanted her. He wanted to be in her, wanted his lips on her, and to hear her cry out his name as she came. He had to know if she had freckles everywhere. She dotted his collarbone with butterfly kisses as her body shifted. Her lips lingered at his navel, nipping the trembling muscles there. He sucked in a breath as her lips bumped the waistband of the loose pants he wore. Her teeth closed over the waistband and lifted it off him. His erection sprang free as he flushed with mortification.She hummed in pleasure as her tongue slid from the base to his tip. Heat suffused his body as he bit back a curse. Her hand gripped him at the base as she licked at the tip. His hands fisted in the blanket beneath him, as he tried to keep a hold on his senses. He sent up a prayer to someone, but for what he couldn’t remember. He lifted a hand to wind through her hair as she took his entire length in her mouth. Danse hissed out a breath as he propped up on one elbow to watch. His cock slid out of her mouth with a soft pop as she looked up at him with glittering sapphire eyes.“No. Lay down Danse.” Her lips were scant tantalizing inches from his throbbing erection, he’d been just on the cusp of his release. His chest heaved as he met her challenging gaze and cursed as he fell backwards onto the bed. Her mouth was on him as soon as his back hit the mattress, sucking and licking. His orgasm ripped through him in pulsing waves. Her name tumbled from his lips as he rode the waves. Moira pulled his pants back up into place, placing gentle kisses up his body as she purred low in pleasure. He reached for her and she chuckled while brushing his hand away. Her lips nibbled at his lower lip and soothed with a gentle kiss.“Next time soldier. Now get some sleep.” Moira whispered against his cheek as she settled down next to him on the bed, the frame creaking slightly as she moved. His eyes were heavy and a lethargy stole over him. Danse grabbed for the hand she had resting on his chest like a lifeline as he tumbled into the abyss of a dreamless sleep.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Looks like a radiation storm is brewing. We’d best find some shelter.” Moira looked up in the direction Danse was pointing. She brushed the loose curling strands out of her face and saw the angry, roiling clouds that heralded a nasty radiation storm. One of the many perks of this land after the big war. She looked back to Danse and nodded in agreement. They did need to take shelter.“Yeah.” Her dark blue eyes scanned the area as she tried to find suitable shelter. The storm would overtake them soon. She spotted the old abandoned shack they’d just cleared of super mutants. “We can stay there until the storm blows over.” Moira pointed and he nodded in agreement.“Right.” Dance followed her as they made their way to the shelter. There was some awkwardness between them ever since Hangman’s Alley. Moira had done her best to keep it friendly between them, and that had been his fault. He’d woken up the next day completely flustered by what had happened and she’d retreated back to treating him as a trusted companion. It should have been enough but she consumed his thoughts. They entered the shack and cleared it out to make room to settle down. Moira took off some of her armor to help get comfortable. Danse stepped out of his power armor to make some room in the small cabin.“Well, now we can settle down to ride out the storm.” Moira told him with a grin as he faced the small window to watch the verdant lightning spark across the clouds. The cabin darkened as the clouds rolled in front of the sun, casting them in an eerie green light. She turned to him with the grin curling her lips but something in his gaze turned that benign amusement into concern. “Danse. Are you alright?” Her hands reached towards him but the miniscule flinch in his face froze her fingers. They curled inwardly instead and she dropped her hand with a forlorn sigh. “Danse.” The thunder rumbled around them, shaking the wood of the questionably stable cabin. Loose strands of hair whipped around her face as the wind picked up, whistling through cracks in the wood. Her hand lifted to her face to keep the hair at bay, her messy bun rarely restrained all of her hair in one place. Her eyes, full of understanding, pinned him where he stood. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”“I…” The words caught in his throat. She smiled gently at him, but there was a sadness in the gentle curve of lips.“If it’s about what happened in Hangman’s Alley?” She paused for a moment before he nodded once. She closed her eyes to ward off the slice of pain in her heart. Instead, she blew out a small sigh. “I’m not going to apologize for what happened. I’ve told you my feelings before, and they haven’t changed. I agreed to give you the space you needed after what we found out in the Institute.” Her voice was thick with the tears she kept at bay. This hurt more than she wanted to let him see. She still had some pride. “I will apologize for doing that while you were injured. I wasn’t thinking and for that, I am sorry.” Moira told him as she rubbed the skin of her arm. Moira turned to look out the window as she was about to bare her heart to him and she was too weak to do it while facing him.“I’ve done what I could to be just friends. I honestly never thought I’d care about someone else again. Not after Nate.” She trailed off at the painful memory of her late husband. She had loved Nate but the wasteland taught her to look at the present and not stay rooted in the past. Moira would treasure the memories she had of him, but she couldn’t stay rooted in them. The ache in her chest was unsettling but she set her teeth against it. After taking a fortifying breath, Moira turned back to face Danse.“I’ll accept whatever you’re willing to give Danse. Even if that is only friendship.” Her lips curved in a small and tight smile, she tried to put a good face on it, but it was just too hard. The burning in her throat and eyes was quickly overtaking her and she turned back to the window. Tears threatened to spill over and she couldn’t stop them now. Deep breaths didn’t seem to help ease the burn and a few spilled out over her cheeks.Danse reached out to her. He felt it clear down to his soul that he would lose her if he didn’t. Losing her, the thought was excruciating to contemplate. He grabbed her arm and turned her towards him, the glistening trails on her face illuminated in the brief flashes of green light. “Danse, please.” She was asking him to give her space, so she could compose herself and not burden him with her feelings. He realized he wanted them. He wanted her feelings, wanted to know her thoughts, everything about her. The realization struck him like a hammer and took his breath away. Words never came easy to him, he’d always let his actions do the talking for him.Her face was soft as he cupped her cheeks, thumbs brushing away the fresh tears. His face lowered towards hers, hearing the hitch in her breathing as he stopped only a few scant inches from her lips. His name formed on her lips, a question, before he brushed his lips over hers reverently. Her fingers curled into his waist, bunching the fabric between them. He raised his head and looked down at her, his eyes flitted across her flushed face.“I’m not.” He cleared his throat to clear the lump lodged there. “I’m not good with words.” Her face softened as she smiled at him with tears in her eyes. He pressed his lips to her forehead as he tried to get his erratic thoughts together. “I don’t want to lose you.” She shook her head, the soft tresses tickling his face.“You wouldn’t lose me Danse.” Her fingers tightened their hold at his waist. He smiled down at her. He brushed the backs of his knuckles across her cheek, tucking the escaping hair behind her ear.“I’m not any good with being in touch with my feelings. I’ve never allowed anyone to get that close,” Danse told her. He saw the understanding in her eyes and felt humbled. This woman knew him and still accepted him for what he was. He’d be a fool if he threw it away.“Danse. It’s alright. I’m a patient woman, just in case that wasn’t obvious already.” Moira chuckled at his expression. “We’ll go at your pace. No need to rush.” She stood on her toes to brush a kiss across his cheek. He bundled her close in a hug as she let out a laughing shriek. The storm thundered around the shack, but the occupants inside were oblivious to it as they remained locked in a comforting embrace.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Moira smiled as she walked into the Sanctuary Hills settlement. It was growing up so much since the destruction of the Institute. That still left a pang in her heart when she thought of it, the thought of Shaun always did. She truly wished she had someone she could confide in, but no one would understand what it had cost her to make that decision. The Brotherhood had spouted off hate and vitriol for the Institute, the Railroad wasn’t much better, and even the Minutemen had decided to brand the Institute an enemy. Even her companions who were unaffiliated wouldn’t understand, except maybe Maccready. He had a child, so Moira believed he would be able to see where she was coming from. She still kept this secret to herself, even from Codsworth, she didn’t want to hurt him. Dogmeat was the only friend she had confided in when the smoke had settled.“Hey boy.” The cold wet nose on her hand broke her from her thoughts. He was always the first to greet her as she came into the settlement. His soulful brown eyes always held understanding and compassion, which was what she needed. Her own eyes, blue in color, crinkled in greeting as he barked and danced in place for an ear scratch. “Did you get to rip up any raiders that came calling?” Moira chuckled as she scratched the dog behind his ear. Dogmeat barked happily and she chuckled as she straightened. Her leather armor creaked and she made a note to look at it and oil it down when she got settled again.“General. It’s good to see you back.” Preston greeted her warmly as she walked up to the center of town. She may as well consider it a town as organized as it was. Merchants came and traded and they had armed guards as well as a wall surrounding the homes there. Moira smiled in return for Preston, waving as she went to the building that had once been her home. Her fingers trailed lightly over the paint at the door, wistfully recalling a more pleasant time. She could almost hear Nate’s voice sometimes when she entered the home, but she knew it was false. Her hand clenched in regret, the memory washing over her like a straight shot of scotch, vicious and burning in her chest. What had happened to Nate had not been fair, and Moira had done what she could to avenge him. She doubted he’d have agreed with her choices surrounding Shaun, but she liked the think her son and late husband were together again.“Ms. Moira, I was going through some of the rubble in the master bedroom and I uncovered this.” Codsworth came down the hallway and handed her a photo. It was crumbling at the edges from the years, centuries really, of abandonment. It was of a smiling Nate and Moira on their wedding day. She felt the tears well up in her eyes at seeing Nate’s face, that smile that had the ability to light up a room. “I do believe Mr. Nate would want you to keep this.” The burning in Moira’s chest got worse as she looked down at those smiling faces. A lifetime ago. It had been two lifetimes since she’d been that happy it seemed. The crushing weight of grief settled on her chest and she fought hard to keep her voice steady, and despite her best efforts it still shook. The red-hot prickles of pain stabbed her chest as she desperately tried to keep herself together. She’d just finished visiting the small monument she’d put up in Shaun’s memory, just a few short clicks away. It was behind the Red Rocket Truck Stop outside of Sanctuary Hills, but Moira kept its location from everyone. Everything was raw as it dragged across her body, and it was almost too much for her to handle. Moira felt herself at her breaking point.“Thank you Codsworth. I can’t believe anything survived.” Moira looked up and the robot saw the tears swimming in her eyes. The barely contained pain was written plainly on her face, dotted with freckles. He wished he could do something to help her pain, but he suspected there wasn’t anything he could do. Though there was someone that Moira confided in that would help her out. “Anything for you mum.” Codsworth told her as he floated out to find someone. Moira smiled weakly as she went back to the master bedroom. The bed and dresser had been salvaged from the home and she’d done her best to fix it up. She may have had a law degree, but Moira’s father had made sure she knew how to fix things properly. He had been a carpenter so creating things out of wood came to her easily. She’d never imagined this would be how she put that education to use, but a law degree certainly did her no survival favors out in the Commonwealth. Super Mutants certainly didn’t listen when you yelled the uniform code of justice at them in the middle of a firefight.“Oh Nate. Do you think I made the right decision?” Moira murmured as she stared down at the photograph. “I’m just so tired.” The photo was put on the dresser, until she could fashion a frame for it out of some scrap lumber. Moira slowly took off her armor, limbs weighted down with the grief of her decisions. She stood in just her vault suit, something she hadn’t wanted to give up. It was a reminder and a way to stay closer to Nate, but she wondered how much she should cling to the past. Nate was dead and it had been over a year since she’d been woken from the cryogenic sleep Vault-Tec had put her in. The Commonwealth had taught her to stay in the present and not dwell on the past, to do so would kill her. She had thought she could move on but the person she felt could help, wasn’t able to return her feelings.He’d discovered he was a synth and that had changed him. Danse had taken a huge step back from her, despite her protests that she didn’t care if he was a synth. He’d pulled back and she was left alone again. Moira stood and took the vault suit off, her skin sighing in relief as cool air brushed against it. She sighed as she sat back down on the bed, thankful she’d put up wooden planks to cover her broken windows. She wanted a bath and knew that she’d rigged up a small shower system, but her body craved that luxurious soak in hot water. The suit made little noise as she dropped it on top of her armor by the foot of the bed. The armor could wait until after she was clean, she needed to get rid of the grime that had accumulated during her travels.The water made a hissing noise as it came out of the makeshift shower head. A can that she’d poked holes in and welded onto a pipe that lead to the roof. The water would accumulate and she would boil it to purify it next to the shower, the boiler there had been a find from one of the breweries. Hancock had given her so much crap when she’d insisted on hauling it back to Sanctuary Hills. Now she could get purified water to take a shower with. The towel rested on the bar and was joined by her underwear. Moira stepped under the water and sighed. The water running over her skin was a sinuous feeling, rejuvenating after the long trek across the Commonwealth. It soothed aches in her muscles and a few of her scrapes stung, like a bee sting, as the water rolled over her. If tears leaked out along with the water, there wouldn’t be anyone to see. She covered her mouth with her hand to keep the sobs silent as she let the grief out.One day, one day she’d share her burdens. She didn’t know if it was possible anymore, after carrying it around so long by herself. The tears spilled down her cheeks to mingle with the water pouring over her head. Shoulders shook as the anguish cut into her chest like an axe wound. All she had wanted was to have her baby back, but the Commonwealth and the Institute had taken him from her. She could never forgive them for that, but she’d been the one to decide to end the Institute. Resulting in her baby, her Shaun, to die. His illness would have killed him regardless of her actions, but the knife of betrayal had cut deep. She’d had to kill her own son and that would never leave her. An invisible scar on her heart and soul, hers to carry for the rest of her life.Moira switched off the water, feeling empty inside after the sobs subsided. She felt numb, all the emotion drained out of her, and knew she needed sleep. She’d sleep and be able to put on that mask again for the next day. She reached for the towel and wrapped it around her body. Her feet made little sound as she padded towards her bedroom, rivulets of water falling off her hair as she made her way back to the bedroom. She paused as she saw Danse standing next to the dresser, holding the photo of her and Nate. “Danse? What are you doing here?”His head whipped up and turned to look at her. She saw the nerves in her eyes, tangled together with another emotion she couldn’t place. Moira normally would welcome the company, but it was isolation she desired. Exhaustion weighed her down, she wanted to sink into the abyss of sleep and just forget herself for a few hours. Danse put the photo back down on the dresser and turned to face her. “Codsworth told me you came back upset. He asked me if I could come talk to you.” Moira inwardly cursed but she knew Codsworth had good intentions. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings, she wanted to sleep. Frustration bubbled inside her like a spring, and she fought down the urge to cry again.“I’m just feeling a little out of sorts. Nothing a good sleep won’t cure.” Moira gave him a wobbly smile, hoping he wouldn’t push too much. He rarely did but it was still an option with him. “I just want to sleep Danse. Really.” His eyes roamed over her face, looking at the dark circles under her eyes. He saw someone who looked empty but he didn’t know how to handle it. He’d barely been able to deal with Haley’s crying that time. He wanted to do something and help her.“Let me help.” Danse reached out and put his hand on her bare shoulder. Moira’s lips thinned out in a clear expression of annoyance and he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. She shrugged off his hand and went to the dresser for her things.“Look, I am going to get dressed. Then I am going to sleep for at least nine hours. I don’t need any company Danse. I’ve dealt with a little too much in the past two days.” Moira grumbled, her voice cracking as she kept the tears at bay. Her throat felt raw, burning from keeping herself in check. The towel dropped without a single thought and she pulled on underwear and a large shirt she’d found in one of the shops in Boston. Her fingers were nimble in braiding her hair and she turned to see Danse standing there, frozen in place. She went over to the bed and pulled back the blanket she’d made out of some cloth. “Good night Danse.” Moira hoped he got the message and left her alone.She’d given him the time to come to terms with his own feelings. She was still doing that and she wouldn’t impose on him. Her grief was hers to carry and she wouldn’t give this to anyone else. Moira curled up on her side with her back to Danse, pulling the blanket around her. Danse stared down at her, and he suddenly had an idea pop into his head. Moira had told him to let the feelings come naturally and to follow his instincts in regard to people. Danse gave in to the impulse and lifted the blanket to slip in beside her.“Danse. What are you?” Moira flipped over to stare at him in shock. She couldn’t believe he’d done what he did and felt the burning in her eyes as that warm body settled next to hers. Tears spilled over and down her cheeks as he pulled her against his chest. His arm slid underneath her head to cradle the back of her head as the tears fell, and his other arm went around her waist. He felt her tremble against him as she let the tears out. He didn’t understand why she was crying, but he finally understood she was purposely staying alone.“I’m sorry.” Moira spoke through her tears, her voice thick with the anguish in her chest. Danse smoothed his hand down the back of her head. He shook his head.“You’re not alone. There’s no reason for you to keep this to yourself.” Danse murmured as she pressed her face against the front of his shirt. He held her until he felt her body stop shaking and her breathing even out. He attempted to move away but her hand tightened on his shirt. She didn’t want to be alone, and so Danse stayed with her. He fell asleep beside her soon. Codsworth peered in to check on them and he saw the pair in deep sleep. It warmed his little robot heart to see that peaceful look on the mum’s face, it had been far too long since she’d had that on her face. He floated off to keep watch on the house while they slumbered. |
11186283 | no promises no apologies | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Shaolin Fantastic, Ezekiel \"Zeke\" Figuero, Regina Diaz (mentioned)",
"Fandom": "The Get Down (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by lesbianbey",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-13T00:00:00",
"words": "1,281",
"Additional Tags": "Mutual Pining, you know how many times I edited this chapter?, like...fifty times tbh, Heart to Heart Conversation, minor backstory, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcoholism",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Shaolin Fantastic & Ezekiel \"Zeke\" Figuero, Regina Diaz & Shaolin Fantastic",
"Series": "LGBT Kipling",
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} | "Nigga, what the fuck is your problem?" Zeke inquires as soon as they reach Shao's apartment."I barely know the chick, Books, and she barely knows me," Shao argues back. It was really quiet on the way home. Ra got off early to take Tanya home, and Napoleon sensed the tension between Zeke and Shao so he told Boo they could go to the arcade nearby that stays open for hours. Shao doesn't say a single word when they leave the train station (ignoring Regina and her problematic ass girlfriends who were behind them for a little while) and he honestly didn't want to say anything now. He was actually hoping Zeke would just go home after this...whatever the fuck they had, considering they just third wheeled a double date because they wanted to watch a movie. "Whatever problem she got with me is her business but I wasn't gonna let her sit there and say I ain't shit.""They my friends, Shao."Shao rolls his eyes. "I'm very aware. However, I'm not gonna allow any of them to speak that lowly of me when I never even uttered a word to them. Mylene been had a problem with me ever since y'all were dating, and until today I never even shared a passing glance at Yolanda. They don't know shit about me, Books!""I agree, but don't pick fights with them, that's all I'm asking."Shao folds his arms across his chest and looks away. "As long as they don't pick a fight with me."Zeke frowns again. "Shao, I'm deadass.""And I'm deadass too!" Zeke gives Shao a look. "Fine, but no fucking promises, Books." Zeke seems satisfied with that answer, because Shao watches as he starts grinning. "Stop cheesing, nigga. I ain't never said I was gonna buddy myself with Mylene Cruz or Yolanda Kipling.""Issa start, nigga," Zeke replies. "You might as well buddy yourself with Yolanda, since you're friends with her brothers.""Not gonna happen." Shao smirks a little. No matter what, he always felt that Zeke's smile was always infectious. When he smiles, Shao feels a little bit more happier than usual. He sighs inwardly though. It has worked for a while and he surely isn't going to allow himself to fall for another man...again. "You stayin' a while?""Well, yeah. Unless you got plans—""Does it look like I got plans, nigga? We just practically third wheeled a double date, I ain't got no plans.""Damn you ain't gotta be hostile with it," Zeke replies, defensively."It's better than a simple no."Zeke frowns, but starts getting comfortable. He wasn't really expecting to go home until tomorrow since his aunt had plans, and he rather not be there when those plans are in effect. When Zeke wakes up the next morning, he expects to be in the same position as he fell asleep in, however he notices a blanket over him and a couple pillows propped up to appear that he's still laying on Shao's chest. He barely remembers how he ended up cuddling Shao but it happened and he was in total bliss up until he fell asleep. "Shit.""Morning nigga, don't you have school?"Zeke almost jumps ten feet in the air, not knowing that Shao is right behind him. "What the fuck, Shao?"Shao laughs, with a few tears escaping the corner of his eyes. "I knew that would be funny!"Zeke pouts. "It's not funny! You dead scared me nigga!""Issa joke, Zeke," Shao replies. "I know your ass don't got school for a while.""Yeah, you lucky." Shao jumps over the couch and sits right next to Zeke, just like yesterday. "Why'd you move? I was comfortable.""I ain't your personal pillow! The fuck you think this is, a bed and breakfast?"Zeke rolls his eyes. "Whatever." He starts thinking of what happened yesterday with the whole Regina thing. He's known Regina for a while and she never appeared to have any other friends outside of himself, Ra, Mylene, and Yolanda. If that was the case, he should've met Shao a long time ago."What you thinkin' about?"Zeke doesn't even know he had his thinking face on. "I was thinking about yesterday, when you told us about your friendship with Regina, which seemed out of place for me."Shao immediately frowns. "I'm capable of having friends that ain't you and the rest of the crew.""I ain't say all that," Zeke defends. "I mean, if we partners and shit, we gotta be honest with each other. And when you told us about your old friends and shit, I thought it was your opportunity to be honest with us."Shao wasn't even completely honest, so he can't really attest to that. "Zeke…""Listen, the brothers and me, we knew you for over a year and I don't know how they feel about you but I consider you my best friend...maybe even my soulmate. But, I barely know anything about you. I just thought that...you know...we might get somewhere on getting to know you this time."Shao stares at Zeke, reading his expression. He's hurt. Fuck. He knows he can trust Books, but he doesn't want to reveal everything. Maybe he doesn't, but there will still be gaps that aren't filled and Zeke would probably figure it out. "There are some things that are...really bad for me to talk about and i'm not sure if i'm mentally capable of saying it. I mean, I cried like a little bitch when I talked about Napoleon's brothers. What makes you think I would be able to tell you things that go deeper than that?""So, your friendship with Regina goes deeper than that."Shao realizes that Zeke will not quit so he might as well tell him the truth. "A'ight...her dad drank a lot...still drinks a lot, mind you, and often he would get physical so when we became friends I gave her a place to stay for the night. Often it would be more than once a week. I would sleep on the floor while she took my bed, because she was just a youngin, you know? I didn't wanna make her sleep on no dirty ass floor." It was like that until he lost his house and his parents, but Zeke doesn't need to know that yet."Even when you were a child you still looked out for people.""Because no one looked out for me," Shao replies.Zeke puts a hand on Shao's shoulder. "Well, that's gonna change. Me and the rest of the crew? We got you. We'll look out for you. You ain't gotta worry about shit no more."Shao almost didn't believe that. He still has shit that he's hiding from and no one, not even Zeke, can save him and he knows it. "Thanks, Books.""And whenever you're ready to talk, i'm here for you...always."Shao rolls his eyes. "I got it Books."Zeke snorts. "Nigga, I'm just reminding you of my loyalty. You know that already ""Yeah a'ight nigga. Go home." Shao follows Zeke to the front door. It's quiet the entire way there until Zeke reaches the front door and even though he didn't expect Shao to walk him out to the front door of the whole building, it's comforting. "Let me know you got there safe. Gives me a piece of mind, you know?"Zeke gives Shao a casual smile, and they bro-hug, and it lingers for a while. Neither of them notice it but when Zeke finally leaves, Shao mentally beats himself up for allowing this 'crush' to go too far already. |
11109945 | Paralysis | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Bakura Ryou, Thief King Bakura",
"Fandom": "Yu-Gi-Oh!",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by SadistiKitteh",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-06T00:00:00",
"words": "555",
"Additional Tags": "Nightmares, Sleep Paralysis, Gemshipping",
"Relationship": "Bakura Ryou/Thief King Bakura",
"Character": null,
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} | Touzoku woke with a start from his nightmare, sweat beading and falling down his cheek. His first instinct was to reach for his partner, Ryou, however he couldn’t make his arm move.In fact he couldn’t move any part of his body at all.The first thing that his panicked mind thought of was shadow magic; something was holding him down and would either kill him or torment him. Touzoku could feel a weight on his chest, and his eyes scanned the blurry shadows of the room for the source. Uncontrolled whimpers would come past his lips, but Touzoku couldn’t call for his bedmate. He watched as a shape slowly rose from the bedside, his face undefined but with a gaze somehow piercing.Touzoku felt his heart leap in his chest, he couldn’t let anything hurt his Ryou. He wouldn’t let the shadows hurt either of them anymore. He tried to yell his name, trying to move his arm just enough to squeeze his hand and beg to the Gods he wakes up. Tears fell from his eyes watching the figure lean over Ryou’s sleeping form. ‘Don’t take him….he’s all I have, don’t take him..’The nightmare was still so fresh in his memory, and he could feel the heat of flames and smell burning flesh and he could only watch as the shadow pressed itself to him…and then lift it’s gazeless void to meet Touzoku’s eyes.Whatever held Touzoku let him free and Touzoku launched himself over Ryou’s body, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited the shadow being to take it’s rage out on him.Ryou heard Touzoku crying out to ‘’not take him’’ before he felt the weight of his boyfriend against him. He slowly sat up as not to startle Touzoku and started stroking back his sweat-dampened hair. Ryou gently coaxed Touzoku to climb off him, assuring him over and over that there were no shadow beings and it was a nightmare.“I couldn’t move, Ryou! This wasn’t a nightmare, I fought the shadow off you! It touched you, didn’t you feel it?!”Ryou groggily pieced together what happened, just holding Touzoku and letting him ramble. He hugged Touzoku close and kissed his cheek. “It’s alright, Touzoku, it’s something called sleep paralysis. You couldn’t move because your brain thought you were still asleep…people hallucinate shadows and stuff.”Ryou suppressed a yawn before hugging Touzoku close. The realization hit Touzoku hard and knowing it wasn’t real and nothing was taking Ryou from him finally broke him. He sobbed, broken finally from the stress of endless dreams and now the horrible reality that he could wake up paralyzed. Touzoku gripped onto his partner’s shoulders, forcing himself to breathe slowly as Ryou instructed. He couldn’t relive the fear of losing Ryou as well, on top of the loss of his family, his village. If this was his punishment, then Ryou was his only refuge.Ryou pulled Touzoku into his lap, letting the man cry. He held him and hummed softly, something he knew helped ground Touzoku after his nightmares, Ryou kissed his cheeks and face as Touzoku caught his breath. He couldn’t help a small smile when Touzoku started to try sneaking kisses, and Ryou relented. The kiss was short and sweet, but it made Ryou’s stomach flutter all the same. |
11100711 | Good Night and Good | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou, Kozume Kenma (Mentioned)",
"Fandom": "Haikyuu!!",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Headphone_Love, Phones Drones (LovelyLonerLiterature)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-05T00:00:00",
"words": "3,119",
"Additional Tags": "Video Chat, Awkward Flirting, First Meetings, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio Fluff, Hinata falls first, Late Night Conversations, Author Is Sleep Deprived, But when I don't sleep I write, so here you are, Alternate Universe - College/University, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Sleepy nerds",
"Relationship": "Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
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} | Hinata tossed and turned. It was a lesser known fact to his friends that he had sleep problems, as he wasn’t entirely sure how to explain it. He was sure it was a problem he had created himself due to the nights of staying up for work, food, shows, and other various excuses he used as reasons. Time management was not his strong suit, leading to late night writes and rough mornings.He sat up, eyes wide open and his head heavy. The throbbing at his left temple signaled that even if he forced sleep onto his unwilling body, he would no doubt be up for an hour or two. With a quick glance at the clock, he sighed and shoved the covers from his thin frame. He moved to grab his laptop bag—conveniently hung on the foot of his bed for nights such as this one—and began to set up.Sleep would come at six in the morning. A good three hours of internet surfing and existentialism would make that fly by fairly quickly.The light of the screen made his eyes water and he immediately moved to turn down the brightness. He wanted some entertainment until sleep came over him again, not to go blind in a way that would make even the technology nerd Kenma crack a smile.He opened a browser going to his usual tabs but finding that he wasn’t in the mood for any of his go-to sites. Something about being up at 3 in the morning made him want to explore the webs. Not in a filthy, normal college student manner, but rather in a way that would probably get him scolded by his friends. He grinned, amused at the thought and deciding to act on it.What was the oddest thing to commit to at 3 am?His fingers were typing out the answer in an instant, a screen pulling up with pictures of smiling people with laptops and an options menu. He clicked on it, scrolling through.
Who would you like to chat with?
He clicked on the college student option, biting his lower lip as they asked for his school email. Some verification process, apparently, and so Hinata wondered if he even should continue with his ‘be unpredictable’ idea. Not many people were like him: stupidly awake when they should be asleep. With a surge of courage, he typed in his email and waited. Connecting.Hinata watched for a moment, dazed at his own actions and watching the swirling circle on his screen. When he noticed he wasn’t hearing anything, he remembered that headphones were actually something he would need.He grabbed them from beneath his pillow, plugging them in and waiting patiently, looping them around his ears. He fidgeted in place, wondering what kind of person he would get. Would he get a creep like in all those horror stories? Would he get a cute girl or guy? Would he get someone who was completely weird that would scar him from ever returning to the website?He moved the laptop from his bed onto the nearby table, wanting the camera to face him rather than look up at him. He waited, unsure of his own appearance, but wondering if he should... fix himself before actually letting someone connect. Hinata stood, prepared to act until he heard a dinging sound, looking down to see that he was connected with someone.“This isn’t another dick flash, is it? Because I swear to god…”Hinata flushed and sat back down, shaking his head and waving his hands at the dark screen. “No! God, no,” he assured, unable to make out the person on the other side. It looked equally as dark on his end, and Hinata opted to put the table light on so that he was more visibly and hopefully less creepy than the first impression he accidentally had given the stranger. The sound of rustling was a bit loud, Hinata adjusting the settings until the person let out a breath.“Why isn’t this camera working?” he muttered, Hinata smiling at how he talked to himself. Usually, he would be concerned that the person could see him and he couldn’t see them, but he wasn’t sure why. He blamed it on the time and lower standards.“Is there anything blocking the screen?” Hinata suggested, earning a snort.“Of course there isn—” the person paused, and Hinata heard him curse under his breath. A moment later, the brightness of the screen intensified and made Hinata cover his eyes with the back of his hand. “Shit, sorry,” the person apologized, the lights going out on the other side. When he returned, the light of a phone was visible, apparently guiding him around the darkened room. The face on the screen took a bit to clear, but once it did Hinata was face to face—or screen to screen, rather—with a stern looking man. He had black hair, eyes a pretty intense color of blue if Hinata said so himself. He looked uncomfortable, clearing his throat as he waved a hand.“Is this thing on?”Realizing he must look silly analyzing the stranger, Hinata nodded. “Yeah! Uh, Hi.”“Hey.”The silence grew, both college students eyeing each other unsurely.“There was something over my camera,” the awkward male said, holding up what looked to be a sticker. “I am assuming my rude roommate did it. He thinks people are watching him,” he explained.Hinata smiled and nodded, leaning his cheek into his palm as he relaxed. This person looked just as nervous as he did, so he might as well try to make this less weird.“My name is Hinata,” he introduced as the person on the other end blinked. He placed a hand against his forehead.“Name...that would have been good to start with.”Hinata laughed quietly, a hand moving to cover his mouth as he nodded. “Maybe...though it is never too late,” he said reassuringly. “Hinata and…?” he began, the male bowing his head in greeting.“Kageyama.”Hinata mouthed the name, believing it suited him. He bowed his head slowly, returning his greeting from earlier. “Nice to meet you at…” he paused to look down at the time on his screen. “3:34 in the morning,” he joked.“I didn’t expect to get paired up with anyone, honestly,” Kageyama spoke, leaning closer as the ginger nodded. He understood the feeling completely, but he was glad he had gotten someone. He didn’t feel as silly being up alone until 6, now.That was if Kageyama remained on the call that long.“Me neither, though I hope you aren’t regretting it. I would have been bored considering all my friends sleep like normal people,” Hinata said, only half joking. He envied them, the night being too quiet for Hinata to process sometimes.“Ah...I don’t really talk to many people,” Kageyama muttered. “Only people on my team, and even then it is usually only during practice hours,” he confessed.“What do you play?” he asked curiously. “Chess? You look like you could be smart.”The stranger snorted, shaking his head in disgust. “Never. Chess is not my style. I play volleyball.”Hinata’s eyes lit up, a breath leaving his lips at the mention of the sport. “Really? I love volleyball,” he replied, shifting so he was sitting with his knees to his chest. He rested his chin on them, hugging them close with his arms. His heels rested on the metal part of his bed comfortably.“You play? What position?”“Ah...I have never played on a team,” Hinata said sheepishly, though he was glad that Kageyama’s features had relaxed as the conversation progressed. “But I like to spike. The feeling it leaves in your palm once you hit it sends shockwaves through me,” he said with a bright grin. He was sure he was getting overly excited but continued. “And then when you see the look on everyone’s face because they never expected it...wah~,” he said, hugging himself as his heart pounded in his chest. “It is the best!” he said, looking back at the screen once he finished his spiel.Kageyama’s expression was light, a slight smile gracing his lips. His cheek was rested against his palm, a slow nod being his response. “I agree. I am more a setter myself,” he revealed, the ginger biting his lower lip.“That doesn’t surprise me.”“Oh? And why not?”Hinata raised a finger to point only to realize Kageyama had no way of knowing where he was pointing exactly. He dropped his hand. “Your eyes. You look like you would be a great setter.”This made Kageyama’s smile fall, a roll of his neck showing that Hinata’s words had struck a chord. “No. I am not. Not as good as I could be,” he said with a frustrated sigh. The tense expression returned, Hinata frowning.“Sorry if I…”“It is fine, I should get some sleep.”“Would you actually, though?” Hinata spoke out, Kageyama’s eyes looking at him through the screen. “I mean, please, just...stay? We can talk about it...or anything else,” he offered.“Why?”Hinata’s eyes squinted, unsure of what Kageyama was asking. “Why, what?”The setter returned to his original position, elbows resting against the desk with his face shoved into the camera. His blue eyes were trained on Hinata, making it a bit harder to breathe for the ginger. “Why do you want to talk to me? Are you that desperate?”Hinata flushed, feeling oddly offended at the comment. He huffed, crossing his arms. “Even if I was, that wouldn’t be my reason, idiot.”“Who're you calling an idiot, idiot?”“You can’t just copy my insult!”“You don’t own the word idiot, you dumbass.”They two were now glaring at each other, though when Hinata saw the corner of Kageyama’s lip twitch, he broke out into a smile himself. Laughter poured from his lips, tears forming in his eyes from staring at the screen for so long without blinking.“I c-can’t believe that you called a s-stranger on the internet a dumbass. You are so bad with people!” Hinata breathed between giggles, trying to contain himself. He spotted a redness Kageyama’s cheeks, his face in a scowl.“Do you always avoid the question by insulting people?” he muttered, Hinata letting out a deep breath.“Sorry, sorry. It was just...nice,” he spoke quietly. “Most of my friends are pretty motherly, always making sure I eat and go to class and do all of the things that I would already be doing. No one would ever insult me so easily. No one would ever take my insult and stay around either,” he said, hugging his knees closer to his chest. “I just...you are nice.”Realizing his words could be taken out of context, he turned red and stared at Kageyama’s surprised expression. “I-I mean, not like, in a creepy way!” he promised. “I just meant that you are different, but I like different!”“So you like me?”Hinata flushed, hands covering his burning face. He dropped them to reply but noticed a smirk on Kageyama’s lips. His eyes grew wide. “You were teasing me?”His expression must have been golden because a deep rumble that he assumed was a chuckle left the other’s lips, his head nodding in response to the question. “I was. You're very...simple,” he explained. “Not many people I know are that open with themselves. You're different, too.”The two delved into silence, Hinata’s eyes wandering to the time and noticing that an hour had passed already. It was shocking because he was sure that he and Kageyama had only begun their chat ten minutes before. The numbers don’t lie, however, as the website even had the hour marked down, the seconds ticking by.“What should we talk about now?” Kageyama asked, ruffling his messy hair. Hinata noticed a slight wave to it, liking how it looked. It suited him well, Hinata debating whether it was as soft as it appeared. Kageyama cleared his throat, awaiting an answer to the question.Hinata ruffled his own hair, wondering how he became so flustered over hair. “Um...how about why you thought I was a weird dick pervert earlier?” he teased, leading Kageyama to choke on the water he had apparently been drinking. Hinata let out a loud laugh, unable to contain it as he covered his mouth to silence himself. “I am...so sorry!” he whispered through another fit of giggles. He wondered when the last time he had laughed this much was, realizing it had been far too long. Sure, he laughed with his friends, though most were courtesy laughs. He was not a sad person in the slightest, but sometimes he felt like he wasn’t really connecting with anyone other than Kenma. It was hard to think that way, but with Kageyama…But what with Kageyama?“That was...weird to hear from you,” Kageyama coughed, shaking his head as the ginger grinned.“How do you know I don’t say words like that all the time and you just haven’t witnessed it yet?”“You? Saying things like that? You turned into a tomato when I teased you about liking me,” he pointed out with a smirk. “And yet? Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?”Hinata pouted, leaning forward. “You mean you wouldn’t want to meet me so that you can figure out if I use those words or not?” he teased. “I, frankly, am offended. I thought we were chatting quite nicely.”Kageyama chuckled again, and the conversation seemed to flow from there. Hinata found that the topic gravitated between two topics: volleyball and whether Hinata liked Kageyama or not. Hinata, personally, didn’t mind either, though he found that the more that Kageyama questioned his affections, the more he questioned them as well.Kageyama was funny, albeit a bit awkward, but that made him even funnier. He was not afraid to call Hinata an idiot or a dumbass but also managed to make it sound affectionate when he did so. That takes talent. He was also as huge a volleyball nerd as Hinata was, eyes sparkling whenever he talked about how he got into the sport and how often he practiced.“Oi. You aren’t falling asleep on me there, are you?”Hinata shook his head, biting his lower lip. Despite it almost being six am, he was nowhere near tired. He was too enthralled with the person through the screen. “Not at all,” he confessed. “Though if you are…”“Want to have breakfast?”Hinata squinted in confusion, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”Kageyama stretched, shrugging his shoulders. “If you aren’t doing anything, we could always eat together,” he said, realizing it sounded odd. “Obviously not in person yet...but you could get food and I could get food…”Hinata bit his lip again to contain his smile. “You want to eat with me?” he asked with a small pink to his cheeks.“Do you want to or not, dumbass?”“Ah~” Hinata said with a purse of his lips, shaking his head. “This close to making me fall for you, Bakageyama.”The setter raised a brow, leaning forward with his eyes to the camera. “Good to know.”Hinata’s heart fluttered, lips parting as the setter pulled away from the screen.“I am going to get some food. Feel free to join me in eating,” Kageyama said, the footsteps and a door opening signaling he had left the room. Hinata let out a soft breath, placing his hands on his cheeks.Hinata looked at the time.6:30 am.Breakfast...sounded nice, Hinata mused. His stomach grumbled in agreement. He chewed on his lip, grabbing a piece of paper and writing a message on it, taping it to the wall behind him as he stood and ran from the room to get his own food.
Getting food. Please don’t hang up! (/w\)
Hinata felt the smile returning to his lips when he got back from his kitchen, spotting Kageyama yawning as he stirred what looked to be oatmeal or something of the like. “Even your breakfast is boring, Bateyama.” he jabbed as the setter glared.“Don’t judge my breakfast Mr. cold cereal.”Hinata pouted, leaning toward the screen. “I didn’t do my shopping yet!” he defended as Kageyama ate, the smile threatening to appear on his lips enough to make Hinata eat peacefully, stomach swirling with an emotion he wasn’t adept to feeling. It was silent overall, though they finished eating and both began to yawn in between their words, eyes drooping and voices growing softer. “Go to sleep, Kageyama-kun.”The setter hummed. “Don’t tell me what to do.”Hinata smiled at the words, opening his eyes to see Kageyama watching him. Perhaps it was the exhaustion hitting or the overwhelming emotion that he felt when Kageyama stared at him like that, but his next words spilled from his mouth easily. “Can I have your number?”Kageyama didn’t look the least bit surprised, typing on the computer as Hinata did the same, more than willing to give the person who was no longer a stranger his own number. After taking it down on his phone, he let out another yawn, the setter waving a finger at him. “Go to sleep you, idiot.”“You're the idiot.”“How original,” the other deadpanned as Hinata’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. When he calmed, he watched the other for a moment, hesitation moving through him when his cursor hovered over the ‘End call’ button. Kageyama waited, head resting on his arms and eyes a lot calmer than when they had first begun the call.“Good night, Kageyama,” he whispered, raising his hand to give a small, slow wave.“Good morning, Hinata,” the setter replied with a slightly goofy grin, the exhaustion evident on his face. He returned the wave, it being the last sight Hinata saw before it was officially ended. He let out a deep breath, shutting his laptop down and falling back against his sheets. Hinata looked down at his phone, wondering if he should message Kageyama before he passed out or not. As if on cue, his phone vibrated against his chest as he unlocked it at a speed he hadn’t known he was able to achieve at almost 7 in the morning.“Stop thinking and go to sleep, Message me when you wake up,” he read aloud, the smile on his face refusing to simmer down. He typed out his response, only waiting all of four seconds until he passed out, the phone beside his pillow and his body curling into itself comfortably.
I will~ (^.^). Thank you, Kageyama-kun. |
11118567 | When Rich Set A Fire And | {
"Archive Warning": "Major Character Death",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Rich Goranski, Jake Dillinger, Jeremy Heere, Michael Mell, brooke lohst (mentioned), Jenna Rolan (mentioned)",
"Fandom": "Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by multidimensionalcon",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-07T00:00:00",
"words": "1,132",
"Additional Tags": "Oh boy it's sad, This isn't my au, that credit goes to @smfdr on instagram, I cried writing this, richjake, boyf riends — Freeform",
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} | Richard Goranski pulled a single match out of his costume’s back pocket. “I’m so sorry, Jake.You deserve better.” he whispered his last epithets to his best friend, looking up at the star-free, polluted New Jersey night sky above the back garden of Jake’s small suburban home. He didn’t care about his annoying lisp now- This moment was just him and the sky.From inside Jake’s house, some stupid country song with lyrics like “-Hey girl, you looking fine tonight-” leaked through the not-quite-airtight kitchen window just over Rich’s head. Even with the solemness of what he was about to do hanging in the air like the smog in the ozone above him, Rich couldn't help but smile. Jake hated country music- it obviously must not have been his music choice playing.
Rich shook the thought out of his head. His semi-inactivated squip was yelling at him, in a mix of Japanese and English, telling him to stop right now- he’ll never be cool if he completely wrecks the house of the most popular guy in school.
“愚かな少年、y-you can't これを行う!” The aforementioned squip chirped from some long-forgotten location in the back of his head. Rich didn’t care. He looked down at the still-unlit match.
“Looks like I’m really doing this, huh?” The last remaining bits of smile and color drained from Rich’s face. He struck the match on the sole if his sneaker, and watched it burn for a few seconds. Just before it was going to burn out, he touched it to the side of the house. The old wooden paneled siding of Jake’s house caught aflame almost instantaneously.
“Goodbye.” he said, and lay down in the garden. He closed his eyes, and waited for the flames to overcome him. He was done.During this, Jake was scouring his small kitchen, looking for his short best friend.
“Richard? RICH?” he called out, growing increasingly more concerned with every time he yelled the name out. Jenna had told him that she had seen Rich acting suspiciously crazy earlier, and Jake knew better than anyone what happens when you mix Rich with alcohol there WILL be unpleasant side effects. One time, he got on top of Jake’s car and refused to get down until Jake drove him to a Dairy Queen, and Jake was REALLY not hoping for a reprise of that game. Suddenly, Jake stopped just by the kitchen window.“What the fuck?” he muttered. He sniffed the air once, twice, three times before finally recognizing the smell- smoke. Something was on fire.“EVERYONE OUT!” he roared over the obnoxious country song blaring from Brooke’s new stereo.“OUT! OUT! FIRE!” He screamed.
Suddenly, there was a mad dash for the door. Everyone was screaming over the radio, which in the newfound chaos had fallen on the floor and was now partially broken, but was still piping out cheery banjo music as if nothing was happening. In the midst of the uproar, Jake took a second to muse that he had never related more to an object in his life.
“Get out!” He rasped through the smoke now filling the first floor, pushing the last two people out the door. On the sidewalk across the street from Jake’s house, people were congregating, meeting up with their friends, and just generally making sure everyone was ok. He scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar streak of dyed red hair. Suddenly, he caught an anxious-looking Jeremy’s eye. Jake rushed over to him, and began talking at a breakneck pace.“Have you seen Rich?” Jake asked Jeremy.“Last time I saw him, he was wandering out in the back garden.” Jeremy replied, shaking his head. “Have you seen Michael? I can’t find him anywhere.”
“He was in my downstairs bathroom.” Jake responded. “The….the b-bathroom with a sticky lock…” It was beginning to dawn on him. “Oh my god, he’s still inside!”
Jeremy inhaled sharply. “Oh my god.” Jeremy’s squip was telling him to play it cool, go get Rich, score some points with Jake, get cooler. “I’ll go get Rich from the back garden. Y-you go save Michael. Please.” Jeremy said, pretending to remain calm. He dashed off to the back garden, thinking about anything- ANYTHING to get his mind off of worrying about Michael. He quickly found Rich, lying in the grass with the burned-out match still in hand, and helped him to his feet.“C’mon, Rich. We gotta get out of here.” Jeremy said, trying hard to ignore the evidence of arson still in Rich’s hand.Meanwhile, Jake was racing through his smoky home, trying to find his first-floor bathroom. When he found it, he banged on the door.
“MICHAEL! MICHAEL MELL! ARE YOU IN THERE?” He shouted.
He was met with a weak, smoke-succumbed “Yeah.” from Michael. “Help.” He wheezed.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get you out of here! Don’t worry!” Jake began throwing his body against the door, trying to budge it open.Unbeknownst to Jake, his home was one of the precious few in his neighborhood with an old, outdated gas tank attached to his water heater. An old, outdated, FLAMMABLE gas tank, that is. The fire had breached the basement by this point, and was inching closer to the literal time bomb every passing second.Jeremy got Rich to safety with the rest of the partygoers on the other side of the sidewalk, and stood there anxiously waiting as some of the girls gave the also-smoke-succumbed some first aid treatments.
“God, I hope they’re ok.” He muttered more to himself than anybody else, and started biting his nails until his squip shocked him and told him to stop.“It’s no use, Jake.” Michael said, defeated. “Go. Leave me here. Save yourself.” Michael buried his head in his hands. “Oh my god, I’m going to die here.” Flames were beginning to creep up the bathroom walls.
“No! I’m not giving up on you, Michael! We’ll both get out of here alive, Michael! You’ll see!” Jake said, trying to remain optimistic. He gave one final smile, and hit the door with all of his strength. It finally popped open. When Jake saw Michael, his eyes lit up. “Yes! Now let’s get out of here-”And that’s when the house blew up.The flames that had been flocking to the heater when they finally hit it, and it exploded faster than popcorn in a microwave, taking the rest of the house- including Jake and Michael- with it. They died before than they had time to register what had happened.From across the street, all the partygoers watched in a stunned silence. Shock was the first emotion Jeremy registered, and it arrived in the form of a dead silence. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move.The match slowly dropped out of Rich’s hand. |
11106165 | Balalaika | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Aleksandra \"Zarya\" Zaryanova, Lena \"Tracer\" Oxton, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Jesse McCree, Hana \"D.Va\" Song, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Angela \"Mercy\" Ziegler, Winston (Overwatch), Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada",
"Fandom": "Overwatch (Video Game)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by RMWrites",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-05T00:00:00",
"words": "2,694",
"Additional Tags": "Most Overwatch Characters Honorably Mentioned, Everyone Outside of the First 4 Are Very Minor/Mentioned Only, A More Serious Drabble Than My Last Two, Emotional Trainwreck probably, A Brief Shot In The Dark Of Zarya's Past, She's Finally Warming Up To The Others, Zarya Plays The Balalaika, No Editing I Will Die of Shame Like I Deserve",
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} | Gibraltar was loud.Down in the workshops and hangar was always the sound of metal upon metal, repairs and building anew for maintenance and defense. The kitchens and recreational rooms were always being milled around by at least one other, regardless of the hour. The same went for the training room, the exterior walls, the surrounding landscape-Zarya brought her hands up to her face, pressing palms to her eyes as a nearby explosion rumbled through her room. Why did Winston in his brilliance thought to bring on board a bunch of Junkers was beyond her. Granted, the scrawny one knew how to cook up an explosive for all occasions, but both he and his gargantuan, silent “bodyguard” were filthy, crude, half-baked rapscallions who cared not a lick about the purpose of Overwatch but only whatever offering Winston coaxed them into accepting to be here in the first place.She wasn’t the only one who had been suspicious and reluctant of these two soot-mongers, but apparently there was something about explosions that bonded unlikely people together.Then again, Hana was nineteen. A young soldier she may be, but teenagers and dangerous objects went hand in hand. And McCree was as much as a rebellious teenager as she was, regardless of him being almost twice her age. A very dangerous teenager. After all, who else would dress up as if they were partaking in some corny western show seriously?Zarya heaved a sigh, dropping her hands in frustration as another explosion trembled her room. She was tired, having just got back from a mission that had gone absolutely dismal. Successful, but it was a horror has soon as they stepped off the transport. All the missions she got roped into tended to follow the same trend of horribleness, but with her being one of the few with actual tactical experience on the field of battle it made sense.Still left Reinhardt in the medbay, full of cheerfulness and boisterous jokes while Dr. Zeigler ushered her out the door after being looked over and cleared of anything other than a few scrapes and bruises.The entirety of Overwatch at its current was in Gibraltar now- many in the rec room and the kitchens scrounging up some mid-day meal. Debriefing of the mission would happen once Reinhardt was cleared from the medbay, but Zarya had already put in her report, as brief as it was.And now she was left with a desire to unwind in peace, but the rumbling of her room left much to be desired.Rising from her seat on the bed, Zarya lowered her knees to the floor, reaching under the bunk to pull out an old, battered case. Without a second thought, the Russian soldier headed out of her room with the case clutched to her chest, hoping to seek out some sort of peace within the walls of the Watchpoint.It was easy to avoid the more commonly occupied paces of the base, Zarya taking a route through the halls to avoid passing by the kitchen and the rec room, not quite wanting to be spotted by anyone carrying her case. No one knew yet that she had it aside from Winston (a pretense of her understanding that the commander of the new Overwatch would need to know her reasons why she had to leave Gibraltar and go to the nearest village), but even he did not know what she had inside other than a family heirloom she had delivered.Zarya paused, tilting her head to gaze down both ends of the hallway. Here it was quieter, the rumbling detonations from outside undetectable on the other end of the base, and the multitude of voices from the relaxing members a near murmur to her ears.The room she had discovered appeared to be unused space, cleaned but devoid of furniture or decoration. Perhaps at some point it had been a meeting room of sorts, but now it was devoid of any sort of use.Relaxing her grip on the case, Zarya settled herself down against a wall, visible line of sight to the door but at enough of an angle for her to be unnoticed unless one stepped into the room. It was here that she finally breathed out a soft sigh, shoulders slumping downward as she finally had some peace to herself without prying eyes and explosions. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had some time to herself, the Siberian warfront too vital to give anyone some down time and ever since her loan to Overwatch she had been doing very little but training and missions. Hell, she had only a day’s worth of training before she had been swept up into a vital mission that cropped up. Now there were others who were newer to the team than she was, and so the friendly banter shifted from trying to include her to include the new recruits despite their… questionable backgrounds.It suited her just fine. She was only a loan, after all. The least she became attached to the team the easier it would be to leave. She couldn’t get attached to others, even though she would protect them to her dying breath. Either they would leave or she would leave. She merely had to be strong enough to withstand it all.Problem was, under all the muscle and past aches, Zarya had a soft heart. She couldn’t help but become attached to the quirky misfits that were Overwatch. Even the Omnics that became part of the team were… almost tolerable, and that was almost inexcusable. She hid it, buried the fondness of the different quirks of each individual of the team under disinterest and firm responsibility that she couldn’t get attached, that she was only temporary and could easily be taken away at the mere whim of her actual superiors.Getting attached only lead to heartache- she knew that.Absently Zarya ran her fingers over the worn leather of the case resting before her, smoothing back some torn and curled edges with a gentle touch. She had it hidden away in storage for years, not since her enrollment into training for the championships. She hadn’t even seen it since the death of her grandfather, but now, when her heart was conflicted and mind restless, she needed an outlet that no amount of shooting and training could provide her.Undoing the metal clasps, Zarya gently lifted the lid, exposing old, polished wood of a triangular base for an instrument. The repairer had done a fine job fixing it up, the previous worn and ancient piece restored back to a playable form. The smell of resin and polish made the corners of her eyes crinkle and her heart ache in nostalgia as she carefully pried the balalaika from the case and set it against a thigh. Rusty fingers plucked at the trio of strings, going through the chords to test the sound as Zarya let herself sink into her thoughts.She had been such a small girl in her first memories of the instrument, sitting on the knee of the large figure that was her grandfather while his arms carefully curled around her to play an old folksong. She couldn’t remember much of him, other than the balding head, the thick wrinkled fingers that tickled the stings of the balalaika with expert care, and the deep huff of a chuckle. Everything else was a shroud of shadow and a vague voice softly singing to her and encouraging her to play the chords he had shown her.Zarya’s fingers fell gradually into the remeberance of the actions, despite the years it had been since she had last touched the beautiful strings, a familiar tune of an upbeat song from her memory vibrating out through the polished wood of the balalaika.The day she lost it all was engraved in her memories, sharp and clear as the First Omnic Crisis fell upon her tiny Siberian town. She had been naught but a little girl, not strong enough to protect her people and her family as the Omnics destroyed her home, her family.She hadn’t been able to protect anyone. Not even herself.It was the reason why she had begun to train her body, growing older and stronger by the years. Being eventually shuffled through the government system for orphaned children once she was pulled away from the front lines that was her hometown made her think beyond her years, desiring herself to be the one to keep all the other children from facing the same hardships. She had just been recruited into training for weightlifting when an old family friend from the tiny Siberian town, years after the Crisis, sent her a gift of a worn, familiar instrument case. The note explained that they had found it during rebuilding, and were honestly surprised to see the old balalaika in one piece after all this time. At the time, Zarya couldn’t bear to look at it, her eyes itching with memories as she quietly had it placed into storage for a time she could face up to what it brought to her.Her failures, her inability to protect what she loved most.Her fingers switched in pace, a slower song warbling down the strings and through the room as she changed songs, eyes almost closed as she let the old songs take her back to the cold Siberian front.When word had come to her that the Omnics were returning to cause chaos to her hometown, Zarya never had a doubt to her next step. She was now older and stronger than any other in the world, and she would protect her people even if it killed her. She had immediately enlisted herself before ever speaking to her trainer- the man grim but understanding.“Punch one dead for me,” he had told her, the only kind thing that ever came out of his mouth. And Zarya had kept that promise.Absently the song shifted, more lively and upbeat in the muscle memory of long ago, playing her grandfather’s favorite song that she had heard and seen so many times that she didn’t even need to see, remembering the wizened hands on her own as they guided her through the chords while she began to hum along to the tune.The weights she had used to lift turned to that of a particle cannon, ripped free from its mount and used to great effectiveness in her hands. It had been modified accordingly, improved just for her use, and she had torn through many an Omnic with its terrifying power. Her missions always were successful, her team protected under her command. It had been what she always wanted, protecting her people with the strength she now possessed to make up for her failures as a child.But then she had been uprooted, going from her homeland to a global scale as she was shifted from the Siberian frontlines to Overwatch. She knew that it was only temporary, and she knew not the reason why of her being here to start with. She did not question orders, but there was a bigger play here, something that was greater than the Omnics at home.What it was, Zarya wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps it was this ‘Talon’ group that they occasionally ran into, but where did Talon and the growing Second Omnic Crisis converged was beyond her scope as of yet. But she was observant, and she would figure out the pieces eventually.Yet that left her with the conflict currently at hand- her position within this ragtag group. She protected them, had their backs and their fronts if needed, and their antics were warming her frigid heart.She had to be strong. Weakness got people killed. She couldn’t be weak. Not anymore.But no matter how she tried to keep everyone at arm’s length, she couldn’t help but snort at Genji’s jokes, exasperate over McCree’s entire wardrobe, enjoy sitting in peace with Hanzo while watching the others make fools of themselves, amused into picking up Reinhardt and hold him over her head just because Hana said she couldn’t, fond of Lena’s blipping about from one place to another with the bright cheer on her face, grateful of Winston’s observational skills serving him well enough to explain things to her in easier detail when she dared not to explain that many of the more fancier English words failed to make sense to her, admire Dr. Ziegler’s fierceness when it came to the welfare of her team, even grudgingly accepting Bastion and Zenyatta’s peacefulness, regardless of their Omnic status.They were more like a ragtag family than a team of heroes, luring in those with no other place to go or with aspirations of world protection overriding their own survival. They cared for each other, for their job, for the world, and they would do what they could to protect the world from itself, even if the world had turned their backs on them years ago.And this was why Zarya finally brought herself to face her own fears, having the old family balalaika fixed and returned to her, her fingers curling in growing ease across the three strings.Perhaps she had been too weak to save her blood family, but she had been a child. Now, she was older, stronger, and will protect her newer, stranger family. Her grandfather would’ve smiled and ruffled her hair and told her that she was just like her mother. She was sure of it.
Perhaps she finally had found what she hadn’t known she was looking for.
The chord finally came to a gentle rest, her fingers uncurling from the neck of the balalaika to rub at her eyes. She hadn’t realized she had started to cry, so wrapped up in her thoughts and memories that it just came all pouring out of her heart and soul. She knew that her music wasn’t up to par with the memories of her grandfather, but she could see his kind smile behind her eyelids, warm and soothing as hot chocolate in the dead of winter.“Zarya?”The soft voice in front of her made her lift her head, blinking back the blur of her vision as she took in her surroundings. She had been so absorbed into herself that she hadn’t realized the visitors that had went to find the source of the music and had lingered just outside the door or inside the room close to the walls, giving her the space she needed. Lena had been the one to creep closer, unusually slow instead of her usual popping in and out, kneeling on the floor just a few feet ahead of the soldier.“Сожалею,” Zarya murmured, hastily scrubbing at the tracks of tears with the back of her hand, mentally scolding herself for not paying attention and letting her guard down so readily. But with it stripped away, she was struggling to put it back over her, yet the gentle smile from the British pilot wasn’t pitying or scathing, but warm and almost understanding.“It’s okay, love,” Lena replied, taking the moment to get closer to pat the Russian’s knee. “You play lovely music.”At that the others voiced in their own opinions, either with silent nods or vocal praise. The only one who didn’t was Junkrat, covered in soot and grime and brows scrunched together in visible confusion.“What’s with the funky guitar?”Zarya half laughed, half hiccupped, a nostalgic smile creeping across her face.“It’s a balalaika,” she explained, and with the gentle coaxing of the others who had begun to pile into the room, she let herself rely on their comfort as she began to open up and explain softly the history behind the strange triangular instrument, playing a few chords for them at their behest while laughing along as McCree ran to grab his own acoustic guitar and play a duet of songs even she did not know but made up on the spot, eyes crinkling with visible mirth.Grandfather would’ve been proud of how far she had come; she was sure of it now. |
11171076 | luchshiie konfietki | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Perona (One Piece), Roronoa Zoro, Dracule Mihawk",
"Fandom": "One Piece",
"Language": "Русский",
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} | — Может, он не заметит?— Угу, всегда казался мне слепым идиотом.— Ну-у-у, — Перона подняла голову — облака сладкой ватой плыли по невероятно голубому небу, шляпка держалась отлично, новые шпильки были суровы, как тренировки Зоро, солнце светило, что умалишённое. — С месяц назад он не заметил моё новое платье.— Сложно не заметить платье, которое купил.— И не сказала бы, что вы оба отличаетесь особым умом, махать мечом мозги не нужны. Вон, даже у макак получается. Хумадрилы обиженно зафыркали, и Перона рассеянно, не глядя, погладила ближайшего по лобастой башке. — Ему это скажи. Я бы с удовольствием посмотрел. — Так что он вполне может и не заметить, — шея затекала, но опускать голову не хотелось — облака были светлые, радостные, приторные до отвращения. С ними все было в порядке, у них-то все было хорошо. — Решила помолиться? — А рядом с ней нудил самодовольный Зоро, и хорошо это точно не было. — Поверь, встречал я одного так называемого бога…— И как он тебя только не прибил?— Не смог. — Может, просто не успел? — ласковым голосом предположила Перона. — Пришёл Мугивара и героически спас тебя?Зоро покраснел: ей всегда нравилось смотреть, как краснота поднималась по его груди, шее и только потом заливала лицо. — Тебя уж точно никто не спасёт, — попытался парировать Зоро громче, грубее, чем следовало бы. Дурак так легко вёлся на подначки. — Этот пиздец нельзя не заметить!И он ткнул пальцем в огромную, все еще чуть дымящуюся воронку, на краю которой они стояли. Пероне она нравилась, все выглядело так трагично, добавляло атмосферности: что за забытое королевство и мрачный замок без огромной воронки в земле, глубокой ямы где-то рядом?И этот огромный безвкусный крест был не к месту. Перона рухнула, уткнулась лицом в колени, сворачиваясь в раковину, и тихо заскулила. У неё не было шансов — Михоуку нравилась эта жуть, очень нравилась, наверняка больше, чем она сама. Хумадрилы обступили её и тихо, обеспокоенно заворчали. — Платье испачкаешь, — неожиданно мягко сказал Зоро и, ухватив её под мышками, потянул вверх, ставя на ноги. — Может, он действительно не заметит. — Я же говорила! — Перона шмыгнула носом. — А ты все спорил! Бревно бесчувственное!— Стерва, — Зоро отчётливо заскрипел зубами.— Топографический кретин.— Выдра.Перона ощерилась и попыталась укусить его за ладонь, почему-то лежащую на её плече. — Блин, ты что? — Зоро вытер обслюнявленную руку о бок, его вещам такая мелочь повредить не могла. — Как пятилетка просто, он разбаловал тебя до невозможности. Хотя, казалось, куда больше?Перона широко улыбнулась и, старательно скорчив самое невинно-глупое выражение лица, сложила руки на груди и звонким голосом-колокольчиком спросила:— То есть ты считаешь, если я попрошусь на ручки, подарю ему пару сладких поцелуев и попрошу: «Ну пожалуйста, папочка, не сердись на меня, я больше не буду, папочка, я обещаю», то он не будет злиться?Лицо Зоро стоило таких усилий. Определённо. — Бр-р-р, не хочу это слышать, — он передёрнулся всем телом и отвернулся. — Я пошёл в замок. О боги, какая мерзость, оставляй свои постельные разговорчики в постели. Пожалуйста. Как это теперь развидеть. — Папочка любит и тебя тоже! Не переживай так! — крикнула ему в спину Перона. Хумадрилы посмотрели на Перону осуждающе: по непонятным причинам они постоянно жалели Зоро.— Чего вам? Хумадрилы захрюкали.— Думаю, он и сам знает, что замок в другой стороне, не стоит волноваться. ***Михоук вернулся через две недели. Холодным, пасмурным утром. Серые тучи закрывали все небо, такое же серое, как и они сами. Никакой фальшивой радости белых облаков, чистой яркости голубого и жалящих солнечных лучей. По-настоящему прекрасный день. И Михоук вернулся. В гостиной висела тишина — Перона слышала, как при малейшей попытке сдвинуться с места шуршат её юбки. Это казалось неуместным и лишним, она бы лучше послушала тяжёлое дыхание Зоро или стук из-под пальцев Михоука, но в тишине гостиной звучали только юбки.На столе были кучей свалены пакеты и коробки, перевязанные бечёвкой, плащ небрежно кинут в кресло, Ёру прислонён к стене. Михоук стоял у окна. Пероне хотелось, чтобы он побыстрее повернулся к ней, хотелось еще раз увидеть гладкую смуглую кожу под расстёгнутой рубашкой, убедиться, что на ней не появились невозможные, ненужные шрамы. И Михоук повернулся. Нет, не появились. Она могла успокоиться, подумать о чем-то другом, в её жизни слишком много мыслей о Михоуке и его коже, пора было это прекращать, сколько можно. — Что-то произошло? — внезапно спросил Михоук, и Перона дёрнулась — юбки предательски зашуршали. — Нет, — Перона судорожно закачала головой: мол, ты что, откуда, что вообще могло произойти. — С чего ты взял? Михоук невозмутимо поднял бровь, одну — у неё так никогда не получалось — и кивнул на стол.Целый, невредимый стол, даже чуть сверкающий — Перона протёрла его странно пахнущей жидкостью из бутылочки с наклейкой «Для мебели».— Э-э-э… — возможно, не стоило убирать в замке, слишком очевидно вышло. — И что? — Пакеты не выпотрошены, — Михоук аккуратно повесил плащ на ближайший стул, сел в кресло и продолжил, — ты не обвиняешь меня в чёрствости, ведь я привёз всего две новые шляпки, и не спрашиваешь, где, прокляни меня все боги мира, твои малиновые леденцы. И мне становится интересно — что-то произошло?— Действительно, — она улыбнулась и потянулась к ближайшей коробке.— К тому же ты нервничаешь. — Нет.— Да. — Нет, не нервничаю, — Перона топнула ногой. — Ты последние мозги растерял в морях?— Нервничаешь. И Ророноа тоже. — Эй, — прохрипел Зоро, отлепившись от стены, которую подпирал последние полчаса. — Я не нервничаю.— Нервничаешь.— Нет.— Да. — Это что-то произошло в замке? — Михоук устало нахмурился. — Нет? — Он перевёл внимательный взгляд с Пероны на Зоро, с Зоро на Перону. — Значит, на острове.Они были в шаге от провала. Но остров ведь большой, и Перона все еще надеялась на лучшее, в крайнем случае можно было упасть в обморок.— Где-то там? — Михоук кивнул вбок, направо, на восток, в сторону, где еще недавно стоял такой огромный, ровный, наверняка вырезанный с любовью деревянный крест. Обморок не был вариантом. — Значит, там, — удовлетворённо кивнул Михоук. — Пойдём посмотрим?Как же они с Зоро попали. ***— До конца прятать собирались? Михоук, спокойно, расслабленно стоявший на краю обрыва, пугал до трясущихся коленок — лучше бы он кричал и размахивал мечом. Не то чтобы Михоук часто кричал, но несколько раз Перона смогла его довести до такого, а мечом он и так махал постоянно. Кусты за её спиной шуршали — хумадрилы боялись и дрожали, но далеко не уходили, наверное, переживали за своего драгоценного Зоро.— Предатели, — прошипела Перона кустам, и оттуда донёсся возмущённый скулёж. А может, и за неё тоже. — Тебе он никогда не нравился, — ровно произнёс Михоук, так ровно, будто констатировал очевидный факт — фруктовик не может плавать, медведи очаровательны, Пероне никогда не нравились гигантские кресты, и она расправляется с ними при первой же возможности. — Нет… — беспомощно пробормотала она, но он уже не слушал. Просто развернулся и ушёл в замок. Зоро посмотрел сочувственно и отправился следом, правда, через секунду свернул не туда и скрылся в зарослях. Она осталась одна. *** Весь вечер Михоук прятался за газетой, отмалчивался, не отвечал на её осторожные расспросы. Перона часами вилась вокруг, не рискуя подойти ближе, и после недолгих раздумий осталась ночевать у себя, просто на всякий случай. Утро встретило её глубоко несчастным Зоро и космической пустотой сахарницы. На нижней полке самого крайнего слева шкафа, за мешком соли и пакетом риса сахара тоже не оказалось. В серванте не было её шоколада, банок какао и клубничных леденцов. Холодильник предложил кусок морского короля вместо ванильного мороженого. Перона уже держала сбитого с ног Зоро за отвороты кимоно, собираясь довести это ничтожество до самоубийства, когда он тихо простонал «мнезапретилитренировки». — Что? — Мне запретили тренировки. С мечами, и со штангой, и с гантелями, даже приседать нельзя… — беспомощно забубнил Зоро, и она разжала руки, с глухим стуком роняя его головой на пол. — Вы как дети, — равнодушно прокомментировал Михоук. — И относиться я к вам буду как к детям. Никакого сладкого. Никакого какао. Никаких мечей. Никаких тренировок.— Мечи детям не игрушки, — пробормотала Перона и в ужасе уставилась на блюдо с яблоками. Ну, может, все было не так и страшно.***Через три дня она прокралась в кладовку и, протерев рукавом яблоко, укусила его за зелёный округлый бочок. Вяжущая кислость, смешанная с абсолютом здорового питания и полезностью, комом провалилась в желудок…Лучше она вообще есть не будет.***Еще через два дня Перона рискнула попробовать морковку. Кролики же в ней что-то находят, а они милые. Милые и очень тупые. Морковь оказалась отвратительной.***Со свёклой она решила не рисковать, пусть и читала, что она бывает «сахарной», про тростник так тоже некоторые говорили. ***Михоук приехал неделю назад, но с тех пор Перона каждую ночь все так же крутилась в своей кровати. Дело было в сахаре, точно, никак не иначе, недостаток сахара в организме, от этого, наверное, даже умереть можно. Когда она только попала на этот остров, ей не хватало запаха разложения, сопровождающего чаепития. Триллер Барк весь был как огромный плавучий труп, ходячее кладбище, насквозь пропитанное сладким приторным ароматом, как сдобный ромовый торт на день рождения с выпрыгивающими из него зомби каждый день. То есть каждую ночь. Когда господин Мория привёз её ребёнком на остров, она не могла дышать — бегала к морю и пыталась забить сладость солёным. Пока не привыкла. На Курайгане тоже пришлось ко многому привыкнуть. Перона резко встала, нащупала ногами уже холодные тапочки и вышла в коридор. Немного постояла в нерешительности под дверью напротив и толкнула её, открывая. Без стука. — Ты спишь? — Нет, — тихо ответил с кровати Михоук и откинул одеяло. — Иди сюда. Утром она проверила все, что могла, все ёмкости: баночки, мешочки, ящики, шкафы. И ничего.— Это значит, ты еще сердишься? — Перона оперлась локтями о стол вопреки всем правилам этикета и посмотрела на Михоука с точно выверенной дозой слез в глазах. — Твоё пристрастие к сладкому заставляет меня задуматься о твоих родственных связях, — Михоук был без газеты, что, пожалуй, было хорошим знаком. — Перспективы ужасают. — Значит, сердишься, — она подошла к креслу, уселась ему на колени и наконец-то поцеловала. Ночью ей не хватило поцелуев — они просто спали рядом, хотя это тоже было хорошо, этого ей тоже не хватало. — Хм, — Михоук отстранился и погладил её по щеке тёплой ладонью, — а знаешь, это ощущается по-другому. — Папочка, ты такой жестокий, я ужасно скучаю по малиновым леденцам. Очень-очень.Михоук открыл рот, чтобы ответить что-то умное и очень рациональное, но из открытого окна донеслись странные звуки, и Перона взлетела, оставляя тело в его объятиях. Под стеной, в траве, вздымалась темно-зелёная куча. Хрюкающая и посвистывающая. — Слушай, а люди могут впадать в спячку? — Смотря какие, — Михоук с ней на руках — её голова заботливо устроена на его плече — подошёл к окну. — Ох, что-то Ророноа совсем плох, даже не позавтракал. — Не то чтобы ему было чем заняться. Сам отказался вышивать, пусть деградирует теперь. Ты бы знал, что он творил, пока тебя не было.— Можешь рассказать.***Лестница рухнула под её ногами, и она открыла глаза, просыпаясь. Михоук прижимался грудью к её спине и тихо дышал ей в макушку. Перона аккуратно отодвинула перекинутую через неё руку, села на кровати и замерла, увидев открытые, абсолютно не сонные глаза. Наверное, реакция на любое движение была профессиональной необходимостью, зарежут во сне — позора не оберёшься. — Спи, — тихо сказала она и, наклонившись, поцеловала в шею, провела губами по сухой горячей коже, вдыхая этот запах лета, дерева, крови и Михоука. — Я скоро вернусь. Она зашла на кухню и налила из прозрачного графина в такой же прозрачный стакан воду. Прозрачную и безвкусную. Руки дрожали, это было смешно и странно — Перона вытянула их перед собой — значит, не показалось. Сервант манил возможностью, как лотерея, в которой ты всегда проигрываешь, и она открыла дверцу. Закрыла и снова открыла. Ничего не изменилось. — Что ты ищешь? Перона дёрнулась и уронила стакан. Он разлетелся осколками, и она замерла, боясь сойти с места — пол холодил голые ноги, глупо было ходить по каменному замку босиком, но она просто забыла про тапочки. Дрожь поднялась по рукам, и Перона обхватила себя за плечи, пытаясь остановиться и не трястись. Сонный Зоро вылез из-под стола и уставился на неё в недоумении — в тонкой рубашке, простоволосую, босую, посреди лужи и битого стекла. — У нас же должен быть хоть сироп от кашля, — беспомощно забормотала Перона. — Да-да, именно, я искала, должен же быть тут хотя бы сладкий сироп от кашля, не может же такого быть, чтобы только свёкла…— Эй, успокойся, — Зоро схватил её за предплечье и легонько встряхнул — конечно, ему, живущему в этих уродских сапогах, легко ходить по останкам стакана, а что делать ей…— Дыши, ну, — он легко подхватил Перону на руки и в два шага вынес в коридор. — Ты чего, выдра? У вас же все в порядке? — Не знаю, — честно ответила Перона, когда он бережно поставил её на пол, на толстый мягкий ковёр. — Спасибо. Может проводить тебя к тебе? Зоро кивнул. И она потянула его к нужной лестнице, схватит за рукав кимоно.***Очень печальным днём, в печальное утро, за печальным завтраком Перона пыталась уничтожить яблоко печальным взглядом, Зоро прорастал водорослями в углу. Да уж, в последнее печальное время до печального завтрака Зоро то и дело, что просто прорастал — Перона начала бояться, что однажды он врастёт в какую-то стену и они не смогут его найти. И только Михоук бы весел и добр. В той мере, в какой мог — хмурился лишь слегка, кивал в ответ на каждую вторую реплику и отвечал на каждый пятый вопрос. Перона потерпела неудачу с яблоком и в порыве справедливой мести кинула его в Зоро — и попала, Зоро лишь всхрапнул и перевернулся на другой бок. Все было не в порядке. Все было очень даже плохо.Перона встала и хлопнула ладонью по столу.— Мне жаль, что так получилось, — произнёс её рот, будто по своему желанию, самовольно. — Мы не хотели подорвать твой любимый и дорогой крест. Да, он был жутко уродским и не нравился, но, слышишь, мы никогда бы не сделали этого специально. Михоук нахмурился сильнее, но Перону несло, и она не собиралась останавливаться. — Нужно было сказать тебе сразу. Извини. Я не буду больше… Ну, постараюсь больше такого не делать. И не буду обманывать. Ну, в важных вопросах. Мне очень жаль. Все.И вышла, хлопнув дверью. Пошли они все, пусть думают, что хотят, но Перона собиралась долго страдать у себя в комнате. В темноте, одиночестве и печали. А может, даже поплакать в ванной. ***Знакомый-незнакомый запах наверняка был галлюцинацией. Умирающие в пустыне видят оазисы с родниками, а умирающая без любви, понимания и сладкого Перона бежала на запах…… какао. Да. Да-да-да-да-да. На столе стояла еще дымящаяся чашка какао, возле, на белой тарелочке, лежало самое сладкое даже на вид шоколадное пирожное. Украшенное малиной и листиком мяты. Как ожившая мечта. Как прекрасный сон. Как лучший вариант обложки «Единственной кулинарной книги Гранд Лайна». — Шестьсот семьдесят семь, — посреди зала судорожно, в одних штанах, отжимался потный Зоро. — Шестьсот семьдесят восемь, шестьсот семьдесят девять, шестьсот восемьдесят… — Нужно было просто извиниться? — решила уточнить Перона, подходя ближе и стараясь наступить на пальцы Зоро — нашёл где тренироваться, дурак вонючий. Жаль, не получилось. — Взрослые берут на себя ответственность за свои поступки, — ответил Михоук и с громким шорохом отложил свежую газету.— То есть надо было сделать что? — понятнее не становилось. А отвечать Михоук, видимо, не собирался. Она стояла и все не могла решить, что делать вначале — припасть к божественному напитку богов или накостылять загадочному мудаку, но таки бросилась к Михоуку, сметая газету на пол, прижимаясь к нему всем телом. — Папочка, ты такой мудак. Просто невероятный.— Держи себя в руках, выдра, — прохрипели с пола. — Выбей из него всю дурь сегодня, — Перона игриво дёрнула Михоука за бороду и громко прошептала на выдохе: — Ради меня, папочка, пожалуйста…— Бля, эти разговоры отвратительны, лучше бы ты и дальше ревела в ванной. — Бревно не спрашивали!— Стерва. Михоук засмеялся и поцеловал её, не давая ответить. Наверное, теперь все было действительно хорошо. До тех пор, пока он не увидел, чему они смогли научить хумадрилов всего за две недели. |
11102016 | Knees pried open | {
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} | Even "So, so pretty." he slurs the words deep down his throat. "Always so beautiful for us Even, don't be shy" and he knows every word so well.Dancing fingers, prying his knees open as if he is the only book their eyes have ever craved to gasp over.Red blotches stain the vast pale skin, stretched over his bones like a thin sheet. Yet his body is touched by all the wrong people, and this sheet cannot protect him from the intrusion.
Their names stay in his throat, where they moaned and whispered it. As he lays still, sometimes enjoying it. Sometimes not.
Day after day.He is never asked how it feels because it never feels. At all. But he is so afraid to lose the race that all he can do is continue to dance his pale landscape beneath them, because he refuses to be alone.So he won't be alone. Because it is not one human who drains him empty. It is many, as many as they want. As many men who want to take.
Until he is empty.So he allows himself to be told that he wants it, to be kissed with mutilating lies, and for other's bodies to be forced into his own. Suffocated.He inhales sharply, his nose completely pressed against the stained bedsheet beneath him. The bed has seen many uses, night after night. He doesn't remember the exact sequence of events which led him to become what he now existed as. A whore. He knows himself as this, enough men have whispered it to him as their bodies are forced into his own. Deep grunting moans as they push and shove. "You're quite the whore aren't you?" a push. "Yes, you take it so well. Beautifully well, just like a good whore" a shove. He waits in the dimly lit room, several other young boys around him in a similar state. Clothes were strewn around the floor, used condoms and discarded waste. He became aware of his problem when he turned 15, he woke up one night, sweating and crying. Remembering the night his knees were pried open by another man when he passed out after a party with his friends. After that day all he can remember thinking of is the feeling of being touched, and being wanted. The constant craving for someone, anyone, to want him. To need him. So he found it in the only way he could. Walking up to an abandoned building one day after hearing of the insane parties that occurred nightly there. His tendency to be self-destructive showed at its worst in these times, when he couldn't stop his mind from screaming. He downed drinks and pills floated past his soft, swollen lips. "I want you" he would moan into their mouths. Yet, he never really wanted them. He just wanted the idea of them, the idea of having an infinite combination of ways to love someone. But his mind was so garbled that it didn't matter if it was someone. Or anyone.So once the love stopped being love, it was out of his control. He kept coming back night after night, slipping away from his bedroom window after saying goodnight to his parents. It became a sick pattern, the need for the void within him to be filled with someone else's flesh. And then the immediate breakdown that followed. The nights of endless spinning thoughts and uncontrollable heart pulsing became too much. The pills stopped making him float above the pain of the tight fingers gripping his small hips. So he turned to anything he could wrap his fingers around, anything that felt real and concrete. Anything that could make him not. So the heroine followed. A man promised him drugs if he would sell his body, which he was far too used to doing. So it seemed easy, almost too easy. After the first press of the needle breaking through his sheet of vast pale skin, he could see the blood pooling. Yet it was beautiful, so, so exquisite because he couldn't taste their tongue on his lips anymore. He could no longer feel the tingling sensation where the pads of their fingers indented him, breaking his blood vessels.Pretty needles, always there for him. Just like people, it never mattered what needle he used, or how often they changed. Because the same rushing pulse of nirvana coursed through him the same every time. His arms scarred with holes, wounding him. His arms showed the true battlefield his body had become. His parents never noticed, no one ever did. He stopped talking to others, or attempting to reaching out. His mouth couldn't form sentences unless they were broken moans or sighs. His limbs couldn't function unless they were pressing the sharp tip of his next high through his vein. His foot taps restlessly against the cold linoleum floor, awaiting his next customer. It was such a strange concept to him, these people were here to buy him. He rubs his cold finger against the pock shaped scars running over his arms. He cringed beneath the touch, he had become extremely sensitive to other's touches in that area.He knows he is no longer beautiful. He used to be. Tall, soft, blonde, his pale skin was smooth from head to toe, covered in stars. When his addiction began he could remember the feeling of knowing how badly men wanted him. Wanted to see him naked, stripped of everything he had known. And while the men's attitudes for him never changed, he still finds himself doubting whether they could truly want him. Weak, always waiting for the next needle. A salty tear slid down the scars as a man yanked him from his spot against the wall. Even pushes open his heavily-lidded eyes, black spots dancing. The withdrawal had never been this bad before, because he had always found a way to get to the drugs quickly and efficiently. But he hadn't sold himself for days. He hadn't wanted to. It never felt good anymore, he just wanted to make someone else feel good. Feel something. So he let them, and he never said no. No matter how badly the shame and guilt ate at him. Becuase love had become a sin. He was a human garbage bin, willing to accept endlessly. He laid limp, his body jerking up and down while the brooding man shoves and shoves. Never giving.
Rip me, rape me, suffocate my youth.
He only came to consciousness when he realized was throwing up, bile spilling from his beautiful, giving lips. A man moved over him, and Even flinched. Immediately expecting it to be another who would steal and leave. Even if he had been, he would not have protested, because that would make it rape. And he never wanted it to be rape, he just wanted love.So when the man with the soft brown eyes lifted him from the floor and took him to a soft couch, he was nearly startled by the lack of desperation. The existence of compassion had become unfamiliar. "My name is Harriot," he said gently, brushing the sweaty hair from Even's blindingly blue eyes. He was letting out small hushes, rocking Even although he was over 6' foot. "Did you know that every seven years every cell in our body is replaced" Harriot whispered. And Even could feel his tears dropping and dampening his bare skin. Why is he crying? Is he hurt? Suddenly Even was sad, because this man didn't deserve to be sad. Only he deserved to be sad, because he could never satisfy anyone enough. He could never be empty enough to disappear. "Don't cry" Even croaked, using all his power to release the two simple words. But these only made Harriot cry harder, "So one day you will have a body that they never touched, one that you never gave up on" the man sobbed. His fingers ran over Even's exposed scars, and he flinched. He quickly pulled away from his sad strokes self-consciously, it had become a reflex. He found himself unable to grow close to people, his initial thought when meeting anyone knew was always "I am going to hurt you". And he would repeat it to himself like a silent oath, because that is the one thing he knew as true, and the one promise that would go unbroken. Because he only knew pain, and he swallowed it down like a drug. Because maybe heroine wasn't what he loved so much, nor sex, but the inevitable promise of pain which would surface from them. Because he was a monster. Yet they still saw him as the same, ignoring his scars, ignoring the fact that he never moaned, or yelled their names. Not all men were bad to him, he remembers one who just seemed plain sad. He would always whisper poems as he worked his eyes over Even. Soaking in his skin. "The most important conversations you'll have are with your fingers" he licked a trail beneath Even's bellybutton, watching as his muscles contracted. "Sometimes, the only reason I know I am alive is when your chest heaves, heavy and full of unspoken words. God, you are so beautiful." another push straight into Even. He wriggled and his knees wanted to desperately to clamp shut, yet this man treated him much better than many others. So they did not."Come for me" his cock was abused, forced to perform on the daily. Even when it had no desire to release, it was forced. Hand after hand abused it until the milky liquid splashed out.\ The hardest part was existing partially. To be broken and have to survive every waking moment as if he was whole. As if countless men hadn't stolen him piece by piece every night since he turned 15. He had become a concave shell, waiting for the seven years to pass as Harriot said so that maybe, just maybe, he could feel a little less empty. Because his body ached with every touch, please don't touch me.Voices rummaged through every vein in his body and yet he couldn't even remember the first letter of at least half of their names. He was nameless, they were nameless. Consumer and product. |
11150337 | Its the Bitch of Living | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
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} | Draco rolled over in bed and winced. His arm was so sore, throbbing in pain, in time with his heartbeat. It was that evening that the Dark Lord had branded him, marked him made him his own. What could he do but agree? His family and his life were at risk. But now, laying in the dark, the severity of his action suffocated him. What was he supposed to do, know? Kill Dumbledore? Is that really what he was asked to do? Being part of the Inquisitorial Squad, catching Potter and his lackeys… That was one thing. This was something else entirely. This was someone’s life. Sure, he was an old coot, but he didn’t deserve it any more than his family did. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t! But he had to. He didn’t have a choice. He had to kill Dumbledore. He had to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. He had to.
He swallowed and groaned, staring at the Dark Mark. He never wanted this life. Spoiled? Sure. Arrogant? Some might say. But a murderer? He never wanted this. It wasn’t fair. Why was he being forced to fight in this war he didn’t want to be a part of? But if he didn’t…
He tried not to cry, but the tears came anyway. He tried to imagine himself in a different life, somewhere where he could be happy. His mum, his father, him. All he wanted was to be happy. He didn’t want to be this person. And yet, here he was, being forced to carry out some madman’s crazy demands.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying to dry it, but only leaving wet streaks behind. He never thought it would come to this. He knew his father had some strong beliefs about Mudbloods and Muggles, but he never expected this. He never thought he would be dragged into it.
He scratched at his arm, making his breath catch in his throat. He wanted the Mark gone. Not only did it hurt, but it was hideous. His skin was red and swollen, and that ugly snake made him wish he wasn’t in Slytherin.
Draco reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a vial of Dreamless Sleep. He had started brewing it when You-Know-Who had taken up residence in the Manor. He pulled out the stopper, and downed the whole bottle in one go. Stuffing his hand under his pillow, he tried not to think about it, tried not to think about what he was going to have to do, and hoped that sleep would overtake him soon.
He prayed he wouldn’t wake up. |
11179533 | Shattered Hope | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
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"Characters": "Zachariah Mancer, Andrew Mancer, Don’t copy to another site - Character",
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} | It was so unbearably painful for him to know the truth.As a Technomancer, he had seen small pieces of glorious landscapes picturing long extensions of tender green grass where small, wild yet cute animals ran around. He had witnessed scrapped records of chill breeze moving trees branches gently in complex urban suburbs; cars and bikes, buildings and Institutions beyond the corporations. As if it were a land of wonders, he had seen photos of blue skies that could be cloudy in a matter of minutes, showing a beauty out of this world, a multicoloured sky, a kaleidoscope of colours and clouds.In the most secluded place of the Technomancer school, there was a museum of invaluable old artefacts with these secrets, with the small scraps of a better world left behind. It had such wonders that some were hard to believe, like those records of rain, water falling from the sky, and people complaining about such magical event. Water in extended regions called oceans, lakes, rivers. Water on the planet surface that did not evaporate in a couple of seconds. It was so hard to believe a world like that existed, especially a world that was supposed to be theirs, a world that was supposed to be free of corporations controlling it.Among the relics were books explaining things like seasons. It was too much to handle, even for them: simple Martians. What could it be to have different seasons in different moment of a year?. Snow? Green trees turning into red and yellow?, colourful springs? Flowers!. Things that looked like magic. Like a fairy tale.The first explorers arrived Mars carrying with them mementos of the world left behind, pictures and videos in devices that displayed their family on Earth, walking under the Sun, exploring mountains surrounded by snow, or having happy picnics on fresh green grass. Everything was so colourful in those videos, and people was not afraid of the Sun. That was unthinkable for Martian humans. How could they have chosen to leave all that behind for this dead planet?.Zachariah sighed. All those fragments of the past had inspired the Technomancers making them grow desperate to find more and more pieces of that shattered heaven. The existence of that world out there gave them hope to endure all what they had to, because after all the torture and training and madness, they knew that a better world could exist. It was not a naive dream crafted to resist another day of Technomancy.Technomancers were not like the rest of the people on Mars who had no “proof” about those wonderful times on Earth. They knew that planet was a living heaven, a place that every Technomancer secretly wished to visit at least once before dying. It was the last desire for those who lived always in the edge of insanity, fighting and bleeding in the name of heartless Corporations, without no real, personal purpose, without acceptance inside them nor outside them. It was a place that could embrace them, without logos, offering them natural, pleasant sounds, green grass, free water. A place where they were not needed anymore, where they would not be crafted anymore. A world worth the trouble of finding it.That was why Technomancers were so ridiculously reckless when it was about ancient ruins related to the first explorers. They did not care about tremendous beasts nesting in those ruins; the slightest chance of knowing how to return to the Eden was worth dying.But then, the truth of an Earth reduced to dust had been too much to bear. All those green and colourful images, the videos about familial picnics, the snow, the rain, the summer days…. Everything was shattered alongside that small ring of asteroids floating in the void of the space. Hope had just vanished.The childish innocent belief that there was a heaven out there disappeared, and the truth that everything they got was that dry, hostile, red planet was immensely disappointing and frustrating.Zachariah had to start accepting a planet he never liked. It was not the planet where the human specie had been born, it was not gentle, refreshing, delightful. It was not alike those recordings he had seen once. And that was so hurtful. His beloved Earth, that place which inspired him nostalgia even though he had never truly tasted it, was a hope to go on.But he had to forget and embrace Mars as it was, for it was all what he had, it was all what they, humans, had.He smirked bitterly. Humans. He kept forgetting that. The small detail that technomancers were not even humans.
The first weeks after the truth, Zachariah could not leave his wrecked chair placed at a corner of his small shack in Mutant Valley. He only could look through the rusty window into the walls of the canyon that protected them from the immense desert outside. Sandstorms, burning sunbeams, extremely dry and hot wind. Nothing alike.
Nothing
.
The “greenest” plant in that place was a mutant kind-of-fungi tree that was brown and half withered, growing in middle of the city. It provided them a broad shadow but it had a slight rotten stench. Or maybe it was the whole city and its inhabitants.He could not help but feeling anger when that lame plant was contrasted with those videos he had found in that Technomancer museum, displaying a visit to a place called Amazons. And waterfalls. It was unbelievable for any Martian to think of water falling without being evaporated instantly before reaching the ground.
Andrew crossed the door and looked at Zachariah for a couple of seconds. He went to the closet, or what was supposed to be one, and took a tore towel that rubbed against his sweaty neck. He threw the bag that he was holding over the bed, and took a bottle of water that drank in a minute. He offered Zachariah another one. “You can’t be this way the rest of your life”. He said.Zachariah only moved his eyes to gave him a short and a bit threatening look while taking the bottle. What could he say?. Andrew was a technomancer just in an informal, maybe symbolic way. He had never seen the endless amount of relics he had; Andrew could not even imagine how wonderful and perfect had been the Earth. He could not mourn a place he had never ever suspected its existence. “The rest are the same”, Andrew continued, placing another wrecked chair beside Zachariah. He looked through the windows. He had just paid a visit to the other technomancers, who were as broody and melancholic as Zachariah. “Was it so important?. I mean, sure, no person in this planet wants to stay here if there were another offering, but… it was not like we were close to leaving this planet anyway.”Silence.Zachariah only sighed.Andrew blinked and insisted, “Or was there some secret plan about it?”“No. It’s just… we saw it. We saw what it could have been. Relics showed us-”“Ok. I don’t want to heard.”Surprised, Zachariah looked at the other man for a second. Maybe Andrew was afraid to start mourning something that he did not even imagined. He could not blame him. If he had the chance, he would have chosen to never know about that lost Eden.Zachariah opened the bottle and drank a bit of water. It had an earthy, rusty taste. “But, again… you can’t be this way forever.” Andrew insisted. “What should I do? Aurora and Abundance want me dead. I can’t turn into a merchant and go to Noctis, risking retaliation, and here… well. Phobos is in charge. He is who decides how things change among mutants… and even though we are all the same… we are not.”Andrew snorted. “My, the way to get bitter.”Zachariah frowned. “Sorry. I don’t know how you feel about being a mutant not-so-mutant”.“Well, pretty much as myself.” he sighed. “It’s not new, Zach. We always were the freak. A bit freakier won’t change things. Hey, cheer up. We are alive, and free. And I tell you, that means a lot.” Zachariah looked at him with a bit mistrustful, “I wonder why sometimes you are so bitter and some times so optimistic”.Andrew giggled. “It depends of the person at my front.” |
11197275 | hot air balloon that | {
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} | “Have you guys heard anything at all from Noora?” Sana asks, sitting with Vilde and Chris before school. She wasn’t too worried on Saturday, or even Sunday, but it’s Tuesday now and no one has seen hide or hair of Noora. She’d texted Isak about Noora, even. Isak! Sure, they’d lived in the same flat for a while but Sana’s actually not sure they’ve ever had a single conversation. Would either of them even notice if the other vanished off the face of the earth completely? She doubts it.“No,” Vilde says, squinting a little against the sun. “Do you think we should be worried?”Sana shrugs a little, uncomfortable. She doesn’t like William, but she doesn’t want to assume the worst either.“Has Eva heard something from Christoffer maybe?” she asks instead.Chris and Vilde share a look and shrug at that as well.“Have you heard from Eva?” Vilde asks Sana then.“Not since Saturday, but I-- has Eva gone awol as well?” Sana asks, in disbelief. “I assumed she was studying, or fucking Chris, or something. Eva’s always busy.”“I texted her once or twice but she never got back to me,” Vilde says, pulling out her phone and checking for messages before looking up again.“Why is there always something,” Sana complains with a sigh.“Something what?” Magnus asks, walking up behind Vilde and leaning over her to kiss her hello. They’ve finally left the gross-making-out stage and reached acceptable PDA levels. Sana couldn’t be more thankful.“We just haven’t heard from Eva or Noora all weekend and we’re a little worried,” Vilde explains.“I’m sure they’re just hooking up with their boys,” Chris waves it off.“Have Jonas or Isak heard anything?” Sana asks Magnus, ignoring Chris’ eyeroll. It’s probably nothing, but Sana can’t stand the thought of being the person who didn’t at least ask around a little.“I don’t think so,” Magnus says, his forehead wrinkling in a frown. “It doesn’t usually come up in conversation though, want me to ask?”“No, it’s fine, I’ll see Isak in class later anyway,” Sana says, while Magnus looks at something over her shoulder and grins.“No nee--- oh,” he says.Vilde cranes her neck and giggles “oh my”, so Sana turns around on her perch on the back of the bench, eyes roaming around the courtyard to find--Noora and Eva.That in itself wouldn’t be so odd, but Noora’s got what Sana is pretty sure is one of Eva’s loose plaid shirts on, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, ends tied just above the high waistline of her jeans so that when Eva goes to ruffle her hair - tied up in the loosest ponytail Sana has ever seen on Noora - a bit of her skin peeks out. Eva’s got one of her arms slung over Noora’s shoulders and when Noora laughs at something Eva says, she pulls her in, Noora curving into Eva’s body while Eva presses a kiss to her hair. Maybe there’s a situation where that wouldn’t be so unusual, but Noora’s hand resting just above Eva’s breasts, Eva’s hand slipping down to Noora’s waist, the way they’re curled into each other and smiling in that dopey, soppy, soft way they’ve all gotten used to Isak and Even doing - that can’t be misconstrued.“What the hell, is everyone gay now?” Magnus asks, eyes wide.Sana levels him with a glare, and Vilde slaps him on the arm.“Ouch! Sorry, I didn’t mean--- I just didn’t know---”“Think before you speak,” Sana says, and turns back to Eva and Noora, who’ve linked hands now and are walking their way, both beaming brightly.“Hi, girls,” Noora chirps, happier than Sana thinks she’s ever heard her.“Hi,” Vilde squeaks, eyes a little too wide, but covering it well enough that Noora and Eva probably don’t notice in their pink haze. Sana makes a note to ask later.“Sana was about to call the police cause you didn’t answer your phones,” Chris teases.“You thought they were fucking Chris and William,” Sana points out.Eva grins confidently, and Noora laughs loudly, throwing her head back for a moment.“God, no,” she says. “Never again.”The bell rings, then, but for a few moments none of them seem inclined to move, not even Magnus.“We’ll tell you all about it later, but Noora dragged me all the way here despite my best efforts to keep her in bed, so we’re going to class,” Eva says, and leads them off. Vilde and Chris scramble for their things, and Sana hops off the bench to fall into step on Noora’s other side. She catches her eye, and Noora smiles at her, reaching out to squeeze her arm when Eva starts talking to Vilde on her other side.“We’ll talk more later, but thank you,” Noora says. “I know it’s not--- well, that you didn’t--- but anyway. Closure was good, and now--”She interrupts herself with another laugh.“Well, everything’s perfect now,” she finally says, beaming.Sana can’t believe something this good came out of something that petty, but she vows to apologise for it later, and for now, beams back.“I’m happy for you,” she says.“Yeah, I’m happy too,” Noora grins. “But, oh my god, you need to tell me everything about Yousef later, okay? Come find me in the library!”Sana nods, trying to ignore the swarm of butterflies in her belly, and then lifts her hand in a goodbye, turning down the corridor to get to her first class.Everything does seem to be moving towards being perfect, and she can’t help but smile to herself. They all deserve a good summer.
The End |
11140509 | Seven Deadly Sins | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": null,
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"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by LuciferOfTheCircle",
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} | Seven Deadly Sins
Seven Deadly Sins
by Luciferofthecircle
Disclaimer: They aren't mine. Why would they be?
Author's Notes: Written amazingly belatedly (around 18 months) for DS_flashfiction's 7DS (Deadly sins) challenge. Because I am using the old challenges as inspiration for new fic, as I wasn't around when they were first issued.
Thanks to ultra_chrome for looking this over for me.
Story Notes: So, what do you think?
Envy
He watches the other children. He sees them laughing, playing. He hates them. His mother used to play with him. Now he has no one to play with. He wants to play so much. He wants someone to hug him and tell him everything will be all right. But nothing's all right and it never will be. He and his mom were best friends. Now he's all alone. He wants a new best friend. He wants his old best friend back. He wants this empty feeling to go away. He wants the pain to stop. He wants to be normal.
Pride
He stands and surveys the land he must protect. It has been a long and arduous journey but he has finally convinced his enemies that they must abandon their corrupt machinations. Of course there could be no other outcome. Logic, and the law, were on his side, were his sword and shield. It is said that Sergeant Robert Fraser can track a ghost over solid ice and it is a reputation he richly deserves. He has never yet failed to apprehend a criminal, to get his man, and this time will be no exception. He will return triumphant.
A gunshot.
Gluttony
Round, glittering with sugar, sweet, alluring. You can never have just one. These delicacies were not available in the icy lands. It is now impossible to remember the life before these mouth-watering snacks. Despite his master's orders he has found those who will supply him with the tempting treat. Eat and eat and eat and eat. Taste them, chew them, swallow them down, moaning in delight. As many as possible now, later he may not get the chance. Delectable, delightful, delicious.
He is full now, too full. His stomach complains. He groans wretchedly.
His master's voice, disapproving, "Dief, you glutton."
Sloth
She knows she should get up. She has things to do, vital things. But it's been so long since she's been this comfortable, felt this relaxed. The pleasant things in life have seemed like a distant dream. Now, for the first time in a long time, her body is sated and she feels like idling. There are plans to be put in action but the part of her that still loves resists the idea. She wants to rest, to forget what must be done and bask in the warmth and security of the body beside her.
Just five more minutes.
Lust
She often imagines what he'd look like naked. All that smooth white skin, his broad shoulders and those deep blue eyes... She thinks he'd be shy, nervous, eager to please. Her favourite fantasy involves calling him into her office and ordering him to pleasure her. He's so very good at taking orders. He writes his own reprimands too. Secretly she wonders what other types of discipline he would enjoy. Once she brought herself to orgasm while speaking with him on the phone. He never realised. There's so much she'd like to do to him. She wants to see him sweat.
Greed
This is the life. Expensive suits, buttermilk on tap, any girl he wants. Armando Langoustini sure had good taste. A butler, a private barber, free tickets to any and every game that's on. Whatever he wants and everything he's ever wanted. If only Frankie Zuko could see him now. He finally has some real power and some real respect. No family surrounding him day and night with their incessant chatter. No best friend dragging him on crazy, clothes destroying escapades.
It'll feel great when he gets used to it, once the shock's worn off.
Yeah. This must be the life.
Anger
It makes his blood boil to see Fraser like this. Fraser's an optimist, a dreamer. It's not right for Fraser to be so quiet, so hopeless, so lost. He wants to do something about it, needs to do something about it or he's gonna explode. He itches to punch something, kick someone in the head. Screw due process, he has to do something now. He's got to make this right, got to get that look off Fraser's face.
He's got a plan. He's gonna make it all better.
He's gonna get the man who dared to fuck with his Mountie.
End Seven Deadly Sins by Luciferofthecircle
Author and story notes above.
Please post a comment on this story. |
11154174 | its not the fall that | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Nessiah (Yggdra Union), Eater (Blaze Union)",
"Fandom": "Blaze Union",
"Language": "English",
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"author": "by MiniNephthys",
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} | The fall from Asgard is a long one, and Nessiah thinks he can be forgiven if he just takes an hour or so to lay on the ground, in this crater he’s created. The gods seal off the magic of criminals before their punishment, and it takes a good deal of time for him to regain enough of his power to even start to heal his wounds.He doesn’t seem to have had any permanent injuries from the fall, just bruises. His wings were removed while still in Asgard, and everything else - arms, legs, eyes - still functions as it should. So that’s something.He hears the sounds of footsteps, and in his daze is takes him a moment longer than it should realize that though they have the pattern of footsteps, few people have a tread that heavy. And certainly not the dainty young woman who appears in front of him.“Goodness, but that was a fall,” she says. “If they continue throwing out their angels, Asgard should at least have the decency to install a slide.”Nessiah would laugh at the image of taking a slide down from Asgard to this world as punishment, were he not piecing together where he’d seen this person’s image before. “...Eater, wasn’t it?”She curtsies. “The very same. Do they still speak of me in Asgard? How flattering.”“Not openly,” he replies. “But there aren’t many who’ve been cast out by the gods, and few so dramatically. I was under the impression you were in chains.”“Projected into a fake body,” she says, sighing. “But creating golems and such was never my specialty, and it has taken ages for me to even manage this much… I have yet to perfectly mimic a human in material composition.”That would explain the heavy footsteps. Nessiah scans her up and down. “At least in appearance, you’ve done well.”Without a hint of irony or sarcasm, Eater says, “I would gladly trade being slightly off with looks for being able to have sex again.”“...Is that really a priority?” he asks. It’s never been something he’s been interested in, but even so… “Surely there are more pressing ways to seek revenge.”She tilts her head. “Who said that I was seeking revenge at all?”Nessiah stares at her, bewildered.“Even if I were able to reach the heavens again, they would hardly welcome me back into their midst. Even if I were to defeat the gods, this curse on me would be unlifted. So then, what would be the point?” she asks. “Of course I hate them for what they’ve done to me, but obsessing over revenge would hardly improve my lot in life. Not nearly as much as getting to sleep with a handsome gentleman would.”“...You are just as strange as they say,” he says, after a moment.Eater giggles and doesn’t deny a word. “While your crater is very charming, perhaps you would like to start seeing the rest of this world you’ve fallen into? Really, it isn’t so bad as you might think. At least wait a few hundred years before you start to rage against the heavens.”Nessiah doubts that he’ll ever have such a rosy outlook on his punishment… but there’s nothing to be gained from laying in this crater forever, either. At some point, he’ll have to start learning about his new ‘home’.He picks himself up, wincing a little at the sting of pain. “...The slide would be a practical idea.”“A giant trampoline would be more enjoyable, but that isn’t the point of a divine punishment, is it…” |
11177967 | Black White | {
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"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Tony Stark, Steve Rogers",
"Fandom": "The Avengers (Marvel Movies)",
"Language": "English",
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"author": "by starksgoatee",
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} | Tony had gone 42 years seeing only two colors. Black and white. He was a scientist and knew that there was an infinite number of colors that existed on the spectrum. He knew rainbows existed and that apples could be red and that grass was green, he just had never actually seen it. Steve grew up believing that people saw color once they met their soulmate was just a myth. He saw grey when he watched his friends get girlfriends and gush about the first time they saw color. He saw white when he met Peggy and black when they got him out of the ice. The moment Tony met Captain America himself for the first time, Mr. Steve Rogers, he was met with an unexplainable sight. He saw what he felt when he touched water, the wetness of nature's ocean and skies. It was something calming; dependable, fierce. The second thing he noticed was bright, like the beam of light the shined upon his window in the morning. It was beautitul. " Blue. " Tony thought to himself as he shook the other man's warm hand and his eyes maintained contact with Steve's. When Steve looked at Tony for the first time, he saw something he couldn't believe. It was like biting into chocolate, the creaminess of the sweet food. It was warm and dark, and nothing like he had ever seen before. Tony looked around and was flooded with everything he had heard about for so many years, he couldn't describe the feeling he had when he turned to face Steve one more time. It was like a part of him had been missing until he met Steve. " You see it too don't you?" He asked shakily, and kept his grip on Steve's hand. Steve gave a breathless laugh. " Yes. " He said simply as he turned around and Tony watched in awe as Steve took in his surroundings. " This is amazing. I'd heard about this but... I never thought it would happen to me " He said and Tony smiled at that. " It's incredible. " Tony said and studied the weapon that had been brought in after it had been taken from the weird alien guy that had brainwashed Barton. It glittered with a darker shade of what he saw in Steve's eyes, the staff wrapped in a metalic color. " Jarvis scan this room and tell Mr. Rogers and I what's going on. " Blue, grey, gold, white, yellow, red and many other colors were identified and Tony smiled looking at Steve again. He could finally describe him. Steve was golden. He was like the sun. After whatever Tony had summoned was finished, Steve couldn't stop looking at Tony. He now knew that he was wearing blue and that the letters on Tony's black shirt were a faded yellow and that Tony's hair actually was a chocolatey brown that matched his beautiful eyes. Steve had never seen something so amazing. When a person is born, their soul is connected to someone near or far. They do not see color until they cross paths with the one they're meant to he with. Tony and Steve were connected by something magical, something with no boundries. They had experienced something beautiful, even if it was as common as going shopping. Out of everyone in the universe, fate had saved Tony for Steve and Steve for Tony. Their lives had crossed and they would forever be intertwined and nothing would change that, Tony was going to make sure of it. |
11147019 | Come What May | {
"Archive Warning": "Major Character Death",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Rob Benedict, Jim Beaver, Richard Speight Jr., Mark Sheppard, Osric Chau, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Kim Rhodes, Mark Pellegrino, Genevieve Cortese, Tahmoh Penikett, Original Characters",
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} | The Castro Theatre. Nightclub, whorehouse, a place of nightmares and dreams. The reigning king was one Mark Sheppard, caring but firm. The Castro was a place where the rich could play with the dirty boys and girls of the underworld, and share their secrets and darkest desires without shame. The beautiful creatures that worked in this place paled in comparison to the man I loved. Jensen. A prostitute in the gruffest of terms – he sold love and physical pleasure to the highest bidder with no bias. Money was the language he spoke. He was called the Shining Emerald and he was the star of The Castro Theatre.
I should start at the beginning. My name is Jared Padalecki, and I am nothing more than a simple writer. See, I came to San Francisco one year ago. I ran here – eager to escape the oppressive thumb of my father and the people in Texas. They didn’t understand who I was, or what I wanted. I knew nothing of The Castro Theatre, Mark Sheppard, or the handsome Jensen. I simply wanted to be immersed in the beauty of the New Revolution. Modeled after the Bohemians in Paris so long ago, a group of revolutionary thinkers decided that modern day San Francisco needed to change. And I agreed.
So, I packed up my bag on my eighteenth birthday, obtained a fake ID that proclaimed I was twenty-one, and took the first Greyhound to California. My father had told me over and over that this was a city of sin. I would be unable to resist my dirty physical desires and I would be tossed into the deepest pits of Hell.
But that was not at all what I saw when I departed that smelly Greyhound bus onto the bustling streets of San Francisco. This was the center of the New Revolution. I knew I was going to be penniless and miserable but that was okay. I wanted nothing more than to write tales of freedom and beauty and – what I believed in above all else – love.
My father never understood my need for love. He called it a ridiculous obsession – and his criticism only worsened when he learned of my sexuality. But it didn’t matter. I knew what I wanted and I would succeed!
But there was one problem that I hadn’t anticipated the first day I sat down to begin my writing in that dirty one room apartment across the street from the bustling Castro Theatre.
I had never been in love.
***Jared looked up from his blank paper, scowling. How was he supposed to write about something he’d never experienced? Never anticipated experiencing in his life – though he loved love, the reality was that he was not the type of man one would fall in love with.A loud creaking sound drew his attention, and then a crash. Before Jared had registered what was going on, a thin man with curly grey and brown hair fell through his ceiling, suspended in the air – through the hole – by a rope wrapped around one foot. At first glance, Jared worried the man was dead, but he gave a chainsaw-like snore, signaling his life.Jared’s front door burst open and a man with a mat of crazy black hair and shining blue eyes rushed in.“Oh! So sorry, I didn’t realize this apartment was rented. How do you do? My name is Misha Dimitri Tippens Krushnic Collins. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He gestured widely with the walking stick in his hand.“Uh—What?” Was all Jared could think to say.Misha walked over to the unconscious man and poked him in the chest with the stick. “Hey, wake up!” He turned his attention back to Jared.“I’m so terribly sorry about all of this. We were just upstairs, rehearsing a play. The floors in these apartments – terribly unstable.” He beat on the wooden floor with the stick.“What?” Jared asked again.“A play! You know, those things that are fading from the very existence of humanity with all these videos and DVD’s and movie theatres. It’s a very modern play! We’re calling it Fabulously Spectacular. I suppose not so modern. Reverse modern. Bohemian really. And we’re setting it in Switzerland. A city of love,” He rested his chin on his hands, widening his eyes and blinking rapidly at Jared.“Uh—Oh?” Jared glanced between the door and the strange man, wondering how quickly he could make his escape.“Our lead actor here,” Misha poked the unconscious man again, “Suffers from narcolepsy. Surely you’ve heard of it? One minute he’s fine and then the next—“ He snored loudly, making Jared jump. “Unconscious for an indeterminate amount of time. Very inconvenient.”“How is he?” Jared looked up through the hole in his ceiling. Three men of varying ages were poking their heads down, staring at Misha.“Wonderful,” One of the men said. He was very large, with short dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. “Now that Robbie is unconscious I won’t be able to finish the scenario in time to make our appointment with Mark tomorrow.”“He’s right, Misha,” A shorter, chubbier man with wavy brown hair said. “I still have to finish the music.”Misha beamed and waved his hand at the men. “Just find someone to read the part!”The larger man spoke again, “Sure. Where can we find someone to read the part of a young, sweet poet with an affinity for animals?”Misha pursed his lips, his gaze landing on Jared, who was still considering making a break for it – perhaps the window would be a better option. “You.”“Me? What?”“You are perfect to read the part. You’re young, you’re very clearly a writer, and I bet you can pretend you like animals.”“I—I love dogs?” Jared stuttered.“See? Perfect. Come, come.” Misha grabbed Jared’s elbow and nearly dragged him out of the apartment.On the next floor, the blonde man – who Jared learned was named Tahmoh and was the writer of Fabulously Spectacular and the shorter man – who was named Richard, helped Misha patch the hole on the floor with plywood.They stuffed Jared into a terrible outfit that barely fit his large frame: brown overalls of the itchiest corduroy known to man, and a black fedora, and pushed him onto a rickety wooden A-frame ladder in the middle of the empty apartment – save for a dirty bed in the corner and a piano that looked about ready to fall apart. Richard passed him a coffee stained, handwritten stack of papers. Lines, he supposed. Of course, the arguing between the group members began before they managed to speak even a paragraph of the dialogue.Jared surveyed the group, wincing as Misha attempted to sing, “Running forward with the runaway child that’s male—“ “Oh stop it, you fool! That off-key buzzing is suffocating my muse,” Tahmoh whined, throwing a pen at Misha’s head. He looked to Richard, “Can’t we just have some piano? Do they need to sing?”“Well, now, what if he sings ‘stepping forward, the lost child, it’ll all be okay’?”“No, the boy that is lost—“From the bed off to the side of the room, Robbie jumped up, stumbling a little. “Continue on, you foregone child of mine, you will sleep at the end.”All eyes in the room turned to him, silence overtaking them for the first time since they’d begun. “No,” The older, bearded man – who Jared later learned was named Jim – said. Robbie shrugged and fell backwards onto the bed, snoring once more.Jared scowled a little as the cacophony began again. Something was coming to him, maybe, “Carry on—““Yes we are, Jared,” Misha said, waving his stick at Jared.“The child is sleeping?” Jim offered.“This is ridiculous, you idiots,” Richard muttered, tapping out the melody on the piano. Jared waved his hands, trying desperately to get the attention of the men below him. When they continued to ignore him, he sucked in a deep breath of air.
“Carry on my wayward son, there’ll be peace when you are done!”
The room fell silent, all eyes on Jared. His cheeks reddened as he dropped his gaze, afraid of being shunned or worse. Robbie rose quickly, stumbling toward Jared. “Carry on my wayward son, there’ll be peace when you are done. I love it!”The group began to sing the verse, shouting and laughing as they did.“It fits perfectly!” Richard commented, bouncing a little with the excitement of it all.Jared pointed to him and continued, “ Lay your weary head to rest, don’t you cry no more.” The group roared even louder and Misha clapped, swinging his stick around and pointing at Tahmoh. “He’s amazing. You and Jared should write the show together!”Tahmoh blinked at Misha a few times before tossing down his pen. “Excuse me?”“It would be amazing, you know – his songs and your words, we could have the best show in California,” Richard said.“I love him,” Robbie said, slapping Jared’s ass hard enough that the stumbled a step or two down the ladder.Tahmoh puffed his chest out, a red hue climbing from the vee of his shirt and up until it disappeared into his hairline. “You ungrateful— Ingrates !” He spat. He grabbed his jacket and stormed out, screaming a ‘Goodbye’ as he slammed the door.Misha cocked his head to the side, staring at the door for a moment. The group went silent, waiting for his response. Leaning on the walking stick, he went over to a small table behind the piano and poured a glass of whiskey, then raised it up toward Jared.“Here’s to your first job in San Francisco.” He tossed back the shot, ignoring Jared’s shocked expression.Richard stood from the piano and leaned over it. “Misha, buddy, Sheppard won’t agree to this. I mean, no offense, Jared, but have you ever written anything like this before?” He turned to Jared, who shook his head.“No, I’ve never actually written before.”“I don’t care,” Robbie said, patting Jared’s crotch. “I like him.”“Uh—“ Robbie looked up and yanked his hand away from where it was cupping Jared’s dick.“I mean his talent. He is a perfect student for the revolution. I think we keep him.”The group huddled together, ignoring Jared, who’d begun to slowly descend the rickety ladder.“See, Rich – Jared can write. He can sing. He’s good. He can give us the play that will kickstart the New Revolution.”“But Sheppard. You know how he is.”“I have a plan though. Jensen.”“Do you really think that will work?” Jim asked. “I mean Jared’s not exactly Jensen’s type.”“He will be after I’m finished with him,” Misha assured them, standing up. The turned on Jared and grabbed him, dragging him into the bathroom.***
Misha’s group was overwhelming. They insisted on fixing me up, determined to make me worthy of Jensen’s affections. Despite all of the tweaks and changes they made, and how much I longed for this big break – my father was in my head, a black cloud, weighing on me like a ball and chain:
‘You’ll waste your life at the Castro Theatre with some stripper!’
They pulled me around and shoved me in front of a full-length mirror. I really was a changed man. No longer was my hair messy and untamed, it was pulled back neatly, trimmed to frame my face. The clothes they’d put me in fit perfectly – I’m still wondering how they found some that were my size. I barely recognized the man in my reflection, save for that terrified look in my eye that I don’t think had faded since Robbie crashed into my apartment.
Though it had been just a few hours – it felt like a lifetime ago. This was all moving much too fast.
***“I can’t do this!” Jared cried, pushing his way out of the group as Misha held up a shotglass full of lime green liquor.He rushed toward the hole they’d previously patched, pushing the two by fours out of the way and trying to crawl down into his apartment. The group followed, and Misha grabbed his wrist.“Why not?”“I—I don’t even know if I am a true student of the revolution!” Jared cried, his cheeks burning under the attention of the four men.“What?” Misha asked, his expression a mix of appall and shock.“Do you believe in beauty?” He implored.“Yes,” Jared reluctantly agreed.“Freedom?” Robbie questioned.“Yes.”“Truth?” Richard asked.“Of course.”“Love?” Jim asked.Jared looked over at him, his expression immediately softening.“Love? Of course I believe in love. Love is—Love is vital, it makes life worthwhile, it’s home. All you need is love!” He cried.Misha laughed, dragging him back out of the hole with the others’ help. “See? You can’t fool us, Jared! You are our voice.”They rose and Misha passed him the shot glass, grabbing another of his own. “Let’s toast to the new writer of San Francisco’s first new revolutionary show!”They all tossed back their glasses, staring expectantly at Jared. He swallowed hard, staring at the liquid. He’d never had a drink of liquor in his life – but what was living if not this? Steeling himself, he tipped the glass of absinthe down his throat.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The Castro Theatre. From the outside, it didn’t look like much, just an average film theatre. Brickwork and bright lights. The neon sign was blinking when the group approached it, giving the brick exterior a dull red glow. The signage on the building was yellowed, proclaiming:
‘COME MEET THE 1 AN ONLY SH1N1NG EN1ERALD AND DANCE!’
Jared would have been lying if he wasn’t anxious as hell as they blended with the crowd of well-dressed men and women filtering into the theater’s entrance. The amount of absinthe and other alcohol in his system dulled the feeling – no worries about a full-blown anxiety attack – but it was still there. He nudged Misha’s elbow.
“Lady Red Light, rock me tonight. Baby’s got a way to make it, a-aall—right.”
He sang, and the group cracked up, shoving him through the doors to his destiny.
The inner hallway was no more splendid. Peeling scarlet paint that was reminiscent of dried blood and a dirty red carpet, worn to show the concrete underneath in areas. Off to the left was a closed door, taped shut with a crooked ‘No Entry’ sign: the broken down theatre hall itself. To the right, the doors were thrown open as men and women crowded into them. The ballroom. The heart of the Castro, thumping with bass music and the weight of hundreds of people dancing, swaying, and grinding.
As Jared and the others entered, they were pushed to the side. A new song began and a group of men and women, all scantily clad in shining short shorts or bikinis that looked ready to fall off, filed to the center of the room.
Amidst the whooping and catcalling, Jared caught bits of the song:
I’ll chew you up and spit you out, cause that’s what young love is all about…
The dancers crowded to one side of the room, concealing a door. They separated, each in sync with the dancer next to them. A tall, round man in a suit emerged from the door, raising his hands. A cheer rose from the crowd as he did. Mark Sheppard. Owner of the Castro.
Taking one girl and one boy on each arm, Sheppard moved forward, his steps finding a beat with the song easily. He began to sing, his voice rising above the calls and shouts of the crowd.
“If life’s an awful bore,”
The singers joined in, singing the song echoing through the hall’s speakers,
“I’m gonna pop your bubblegum heart.”
“And living’s just a chore that we do,”
Sheppard sang, wrapping his arms around a beautiful blonde in a gold bikini. He dipped her low as the others sang before continuing,
“Cause death’s not so much fun, I have just the antidote – and though I mustn’t gloat, here at the Castro you’ll have fun!”
He swung away from the dancers as they began an elaborate choreography, glitter sparkling off the bright overhead lights and blinding anyone that dared look too close. They sang to the song, flipping and dipping one another.
Sheppard took the front of the group, pointing to various men and women in the crowd as he sang – a loud melody blended with the other lyrics. As he pointed, various dancers split from the main group, grabbing the people he pointed at and dragging them onto the dance floor.
Almost too quick for anyone to notice, Sheppard bounded a set of stairs to the upper balcony, ducking behind a curtain. He threw it open to reveal another set of dancers, men of varying ages in shining silver and green corsets. They danced forward, surrounding him.
“Got some dark desire? Love to play with fire? Why not let it rip – and live a little bit?”
He sang as the men grabbed ropes hanging from the ceiling. The swung down, not fearing the dancers under their feet, and landed on an empty part of the floor. They danced forward, meeting with the others on the dance floor and pulling even more crowd members into the group.
I’m gonna be your bubblegum bitch!
Jared found himself dragged along by Misha into an elaborate dance. Stumbling a bit, he found the rhythm, his senses full to the brim.
Some believe in love at first sight… But this is just lust on the first night.
Everywhere he looked he could see the glint of a dancer’s outfit or a couple dancing in a way that was downright pornographic. To his left, two of the dancers, a small Asian man and a tall Italian woman, were dancing with a snake, its long body curled between them. To his right, one of the male dancers was grinding against a member of the audience, his toned and oiled body glistening off the lights nearly as much as his outfit.
Hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss.
Sheppard’s voice rose above the noise again. He was amongst in the crowd now, spinning a rainbow umbrella bedazzled with sequins and glitter.
“Outside it might be raining, but in here it’s entertaining! The Castro is the place to be!”
A shout raised from the crowd, startling Jared a little. It was all was so bright and loud and just
overwhelming
. Despite everything, Jared found himself getting into it. These dances he knew – or at least could figure out – and the beauty was amazing. Men and women crowding around him and his new friends, smiling and laughing – everything was
happy
here.
Without thinking, Jared tipped his head back and began to sing,
“Wanna feel your teeth on my neck!”
The people around him cheered, joining in with their own voices. He grabbed one of the dancers – the pretty Italian woman that had been dancing with the snake before, and swung her, smiling even wider as she laughed, grinding against him.
It was too soon that Jared felt Misha’s hand on his arm, tugging him firmly away from the young man grinding against him with movements he’d only seen in porn. He followed – albeit reluctantly – and sat down with the rest of the group.
“Mission accomplished,” Misha hissed when they were all crowded around one of the tiny tables in the corner of the hall. “We made it in without Sheppard spotting us.”
Jared’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to ask why they needed to avoid Sheppard – weren’t they here to speak with one of his boys? But before he could get the words out, the music stopped and a silence fell over the hall. The lights went out. Next to Jared, Robbie gasped.
“It’s him. The Shining Emerald,” Misha whispered. A single light appeared, illuminating the heads of the men and women still on the dance floor. A new song began as Jensen appeared, lowered on a trapeze.
“There’s only two types of people in the world…”
***
He was the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid my eyes on. Pornography, models, actors, dancers – no one compared to the beauty that was Jensen. Clad in a pair of shining silver and green derby shorts and fishnet leggings that left nothing to the imagination, and a black and silver tophat over his light brown hair – I could see almost every inch of that smooth, freckled skin. And how I wanted to feel that skin sliding against my own.
His voice – all the angels in heaven couldn’t compare. Each word spilled from between full, wet, red lips – I began fantasizing about their taste within seconds.
What I didn’t know at that time, however, was that there was someone else there to see Jensen that evening. A man I would come to hate with every fiber of my being: The Governor. His real name was Jeffrey Morgan – and he was a jealous, cruel man.
But I knew nothing of him then. At that moment, I knew nothing except the fact that I was falling truly and madly in love.
***
“
Well, baby, I’m a put-on-a-show kinda boy…”
Jensen sang as the trapeze continued to lower. A few of the other dancers grabbed his outstretched arms, pulling him neatly off it and spinning him to the ground. Not missing a beat, Jensen began to dance, stepping toward the men and women that were making a loose ring around his dance floor.
“All eyes on me in the center of the ring – just like a circus,”
Another group of dancers joined behind him, keeping melody and time as Jensen moved, popping his hips and hands to the beat of the music with ease. Each time he slid his hands over his ass or crotch, the sequins on his shorts shifted, going from silver to green and back again.
His green eyes roamed over the crowd, taking in the audience with a teasing smirk. The younger Asian dancer from before slid up to him and began to grind against his side. Jensen laughed a little and shoved him onto the floor, dancing forward and dropping himself down so his knees were on either side of the man’s hips. He tilted his hips forward, thrusting to the rhythm as his back arched.
Everybody let go, we can make the dance floor just like a circus…
The crowd cheered, crowding a little closer, the ring around the dancers – and Jensen – closing. It didn’t seem to bother him however. He jumped to his feet in a fluid motion, allowing the other dancers to surround him – hiding him from view.
They separated quickly and Jensen grabbed the tophat from his head, dragging it down his sweat sheened body as he sang, his hips and legs curving to the music.
“There’s only two types of people out there. Ones that can hang with me, and ones that are scared.”
The hat covered his crotch at this point and he popped his hips forward, using the motion to tip the hat into the crowd.
The crowd screamed and clamored for the hat, each wanting the honor of touching something that Jensen himself touched. He laughed at the chaos, continuing his routine. The blonde in the gold bikini danced around him, passing over a coiled whip. He snapped it at the crowd, stilling them for a moment.
Still singing, now winding the smooth black leather around his body, he danced forward, stopping in front of the lucky young man gripping the top hat he’d thrown. He wrapped the whip around the back of the man’s neck, taking the hat as he sang,
“I’m like a ringleader, I call the shots.”
He tipped it back onto his head and used the whip to pull the man closer, ignoring his pale face.
“I’m like a firecracker, I make it hot
,” As he sang he slid his body over the man’s chest and groin, dipping low and looking up at him.
The man in question groaned softly, his entire body stiffening for a second as he came, a wet spot appearing on the front of his jeans. Jensen giggled; it wasn’t the first time he’d made a guy lose his load without touching him.
Jensen backed up and cracked the whip again, joining the other dancers. A glance back showed the man nearly fall over, caught by a few of his friends and dragged backwards out of the crowd. Another satisfied customer.
He continued to dance with the others, forgetting the crowds and focusing on his steps – and looking downright beautiful. Sheppard caught his gaze and he gave a barely there nod. On cue, a few of the male dancers scooped him up, twirling him neatly until he reached the stairs. He danced his way up them until he reached Sheppard, smiling widely at him.
Sheppard looked at him proudly, joining in with the singing,
“All eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus…”
The other dancers took over, distracting the crowd as he and Sheppard slipped behind the curtain. Sheppard beamed, helping Jensen wiggle into the tight corset waiting for him. “Is the Governor here, Mark?” He panted.
“Would I let you down, baby boy? Of course he’s here,” He said, peeking out of the curtain and groaning. Of course
Misha
would be screwing things up.
Jensen grimaced as one of the other dancers tugged the strings along his back tightly. “Where is he?”
“Peek out. He’s the one Misha is shaking a handkerchief at.”
Jensen did so, his eyes bulging. Misha was shaking a handkerchief alright, at the most handsome man he’d ever laid his eyes on. Tall and, fit, with long hair and eyes shining even from this distance. Tonight would be a
breeze
. “Are you sure?” He asked when he pulled his head in, not believing how lucky he got.
“Lemme check,” Sheppard stuck his head out of the curtain while Jensen shimmied his hips into the skirt that matched the corset. Misha had turned and was waving the handkerchief at the Governor now, who looked amused and infuriated at the same time. “That’s him… Provided that idiot doesn’t frighten him off.”
Jensen beamed. “He’s amazing,” He commented. “Will he give us the loan?”
Sheppard smiled, helping Jensen pull on the elbow length lace gloves. “Little squirrel, after spending the night with you, who could say no?”
“Well what’s his type? Solemn and sweet?” He pouted out his bottom lip. “Or bright and hyper?” He began to bounce a little, beaming from ear to ear. “Or sexy and mysterious?” He tucked his bottom lip into his mouth and narrowed his eyes before winking.
“Mm, sexy and mysterious. We’re relying on you here, Jenny. Without this the theatre will be foreclosed upon. But with his money, we can have a real show, a real theatre, a real audience. And you can finally be—“
“A real actor,” Jensen whispered, his eyes lighting up at the thought. Sheppard smiled adoringly and pushed him back out onto the balcony.
“Just like a circus!”
He sang along with the group, dancing his way down the stairs and over to Jared as the song ended.
“You were expecting me?” He whispered, in Jared’s ear.
Jared whimpered; Jensen was even more intoxicating up close and personal. The emerald and lace corset showed off his curves perfectly, and the skirt was teasingly short. “Y—Yes,” Jared managed to whisper.
Jensen smiled softly and turned to the crowd of patrons that was closing in on him. “Gentlemen’s choice, boys and girls.” He pointed to Jared, who continued to sit, his eyes round as he drank in Jensen’s beauty.
“Aw,” Jensen pouted. “He doesn’t want me,” He teased, beginning to flip the short skirt around as the crowd cheered.
Misha neared them, setting a hand on Jensen’s arm. “I see you’ve met my friend?”
“I’ve got it covered, Misha – thank you,” Jensen said. He smiled at the strange man – as odd as Misha was, Jensen had always adored his silly antics. He turned around as a new song began. “Dance with me.”
Robbie shoved Jared up and into Jensen’s arms. Their eyes met and Jensen’s cheeks pinked – he really was a beautiful man. He stepped away from Jared and began to dance, the patrons separating to give him room.
This is not the way into my heart, into my head, into my brain, into none of the above…
A few men and women gathered behind Jared, watching Jensen dance. When he turned and gave a come hither motion with his finger, they shoved Jared forward. He blushed darkly when Jensen began to grind on him, but felt himself getting into the music despite his nerves – and growing erection.
We can get a little crazy just for fun, just for fun, don’t even try to hold it back – just let go...
Jensen slid his hands down Jared’s body, gasping a little when he cupped his groin. He winked at Jared then. “Nice of you to take an interest in the show,” He said, his lips close to Jared’s ear as they began to dance together.
“It sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to take part,” Jared said.
“Really?”
Jared nodded, still shocked that his mouth was working correctly. “Assuming you like my talent, of course.”
Jensen giggled. “I’m sure it’s satisfactory.”
“Misha said we could do it in private.”
Hold my arms above my head and push my face into the bed, ‘cause I’m a screamer baby, make me a mute…
“Oh?” Jared dipped Jensen low, making him gasp. They came together, chest to chest.
“Yes, a private poetry reading.”
“Oh..” Jensen laughed again, assuming Jared was being coy. “I love poetry after supper. I’ll see you and your
talent
after the show.” He pecked Jared’s cheek and danced back to the center of the crowd.
“Wanna wrestle with me, baby, here’s a sneak little peek: you can dominate the game cause I’m tough,”
Jensen sang, allowing the dancers to pick him up once more. He grabbed the trapeze he’d entered on, seating himself on it as it began to swing and ascend.
“Everybody let go, we can make the dancefloor just like a—“
Jensen drew in a shaky breath, unable to fully breathe in. The world began to spin and his balance slipped. He felt himself falling to the dance floor so far below as the world went black.
Everyone gasped as Jensen fell, his arms splayed out. The Asian dancer stepped forward with one of the others, catching him easily and rushing him off the dance floor.
Sheppard cleared his throat, seeing the panic cross the faces of the customers. He began to clap, putting on a big grin despite his fears. The audience, believing him, began to laugh and clap, cheering and whooping for Jensen.
“You’ve frightened him off,” Sheppard said, laughing. “But I see plenty of men and women out there begging for a partner! Go find someone to sate your appetite and enjoy your night!” He cried as the music started back up. He slipped backstage to make sure Jensen was okay.
***
Jensen was sitting up slowly when Sheppard reached him. Kim was rubbing his back as he coughed. She looked up at Sheppard, giving him an almost pained look.
“How is he? How are you, my little squirrel?”
Jensen smiled and coughed again. “I’m okay, Mark. These damn costumes are killing me,” He said, tossing aside the tissue. He didn’t notice the light staining of blood in the phlegm.
Sheppard did, however, and so did Kim. They shared a worried expression. “Alright,” He said, not wanting to scare Jensen before such an important meeting. “Let’s get you dressed for your meeting with the Governor, huh?”
“Of course.” He rose slowly and the Asian dancer from before rushed forward, helping him stand.
“You did great out there, Jen.”
Jensen smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Thank you Osric. And thank you for catching me. I certainly wouldn’t have been entertaining our money ticket out of here if I’d broken my neck.”
“I’d say entertaining a prude like him would be the least of your concerns,” Kim said with annoyance in her voice.
Jensen smiled patiently. Kim had been like a mother to him since he was sixteen, and he knew her words were well meaning. “I know you don’t like it, but I have to do this.”
“I know. Someday you’re going to be the next Gene Kelly.”
Jensen laughed, “I wish I could.”
“Why couldn’t you?” Kim asked as she helped Jensen strip out of the costume. “You’ve got plenty of talent, even if you’re wasting it. But if you get the Governor to invest, you could be on your way to Hollywood or above, Jensen.”
Jensen smiled softly, looking at his tired reflection in the mirror. “A real actor,” He whispered, nodding to himself before beginning to dress again.
Only a few minutes had passed before Sheppard stepped in after knocking, smiling at Jensen in the mirror. “Are you ready to see your Governor?”
“How do I look?” Jensen asked, shrugging on a sheer robe and turning. He’d changed into a pair of delicate silk panties in a deep, emerald green and donned a thin black choker around his neck.
Sheppard nodded. “You’re going to do great, Jenny.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Great place for poetry, don’t you think?”
Jared jumped visibly at the sound of Jensen’s silky voice. He whipped around from where he’d been looking out the window.
They were in a small one room apartment connected to the theatre by a set of rickety stairs. Despite the age of the apartment, it was put together with splendor. The bed was large and comfortable looking, with a sheer red canopy draped over the silky black comforter. Near the bed was a table with various fruits and alcohols – though Jared was too nervous to even consider drinking or eating anything. He needed his head on straight.
The curtains were thick and dark, parted to let in the moonlight. From where he was standing, Jared could see into his own tiny apartment just a short walk away. Why was he
here
? To read Jensen poetry, of course, but he had no idea why it wasn’t just in one of the back rooms or an office, rather than Jensen’s suite.
And now, with the way Jensen looked – that sheer robe and those – God, those silky panties that barely hid the outline of his assets – Jared didn’t know how he’d make it through even a
word
of his poetry.
“I—Yes.”
Jensen smiled softly. “Care for some wine? Fruit?” He walked over to the table, his hips swaying in a way that went straight to Jared’s dick.
“I’d rather just get this done with,” He admitted, startling a little when Jensen thumped the wine bottle down with some force.
“Fine.” He turned around and smiled. “The bed?”
“I’ll stand, thank you,” Jared felt himself shaking and wished for
something
to do with his hands. The way Jensen was looking at him – like he had about four heads – it was making him uncomfortable. When Jensen shrugged and tried to stand, Jared stuck his hands out.
“No, you can sit. It’s kinda long and I want you to be comfortable so you can focus and give me your opinion.”
Jensen’s eyes bulged even wider. “Um—Okay?”
“It’s very… Different. What I do. So it might feel strange, but I know you’ll like it if you just let yourself.”
“Um…”
“Hold on,” Jared said and turned around, trying to calm himself. “It’s. There’s—“
He could hear Jensen shifting on the bed, and then a low moan rise. Shocked, he whipped around, his eyes widening. Jensen was lying back on the bed, his hips jerking lazily upward.
“Uh, the birds and the—“ Fuck that was sexier than it should have been. Jared turned around again, doing everything he could to focus on the task at hand and not the gorgeous man on the bed. He heard Jensen sigh loudly.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just nervous,” Jared admitted. “Sometimes I can’t get—“
“Oh! Let me help?” Jensen rose and turned Jared around. Their eyes met and he smiled softly, his tongue peeking out from between his teeth.
With a practiced ease, Jensen slid his hands down, down, until he brushed the tips of his fingers over Jared’s crotch. He gave a soft squeeze, smirking when Jared gasped.
“Inspiring enough?” He purred.
“Uh—“
Jensen laughed a little and pulled Jared to him, grinding against him. “Come on, let’s get to it,” He whispered, “I wanna see your ‘talent.’” He shoved Jared backwards with a surprising amount of strength and crawled over him.
“What’re you—Oh God,” Jared’s teeth clicked shut when Jensen leaned down, biting on his earlobe. His treacherous dick wanted in on the action – but none of this would get him
hired
. Would it? He barely had time to process before Jensen moved up, undoing his belt.
“Let’s see this, huh?”
Jared whimpered helplessly when Jensen’s hand dipped into his pants to grasp at his hardening cock. “F—“
“Holy… That is a big talent,” Jensen whispered. He leaned close to Jared’s ear and bit down on the lobe once more. “Why don’t you gimme your poetry, huh?”
“Okay,” Jared said. Finally, something he
understood
. He shoved Jensen off him and rose quickly, facing away from him to redo his pants. “It’s a little bit funny.”
“What is?” Jensen asked from the bed, confused.
“This feeling inside.” Jared paused once he fixed his pants and turned his head. “This is okay, right?”
Jensen cocked his head a little before it seemed to click. “Right! Poetry! Yeah, of course. It’s perfect, big boy.”
Jared nodded before continuing, looking back at the wall away from Jensen. “I’m not one of those who can easily hi—“ He stopped when Jensen began to moan behind him.
Shaking his head, he began again, “Hide. I don’t have much money, but boy, if I did… I—I’d buy a big house, where we both could live.”
“Big
talent
,” Jensen moaned. Jared turned fully to face him, his eyes widening. Jensen was stretched out on the bed, rubbing himself through the panties.
“I—If I were a sculptor, but then again, no—Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show,” Jared stuttered, unsure of how to proceed. Jensen continued to writhe on the bed, his hips bucking pornographically as he moaned loudly.
“I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do—”
“Oh, it’s perfect baby,
please
,” Jensen whined, his eyes squeezed shut. Jared grimaced – this wasn’t working at all. He took a shaky breath and began to sing,
“My gift is my song and, this one’s for you
!”
Jensen froze on the bed, sitting up slowly. Jared smiled shyly but continued, glad at least for
silence
from his audience of one.
“And you can tell everybody that this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life while you’re in the world.”
He continued to sing the poem but turned to look out the window again, his cheeks burning under Jensen’s now intense scrutiny. He heard Jensen rise from the bed and turned back, not slowing his words,
“So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do, you see I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue. Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean: yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen,”
He grabbed Jensen’s hands and pulled him close, spinning him in a slow dance. It wasn’t erotic – nothing like they were doing in the club.
“And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words how wonderful life is while you’re in the world.
”
Jensen’s mouth opened slightly as the final notes faded into silence. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Jared whispered, his anxiety biting a nervous hole in his stomach.
“I’m in love.”
Heart stopping didn’t begin to describe Jared’s feelings did at the sound of those words.
Love
. The very thing he’d longed for in his short life and now, in this room – he was feeling it. He leaned forward – this would be his first
real
kiss. Jensen whispered again before their lips met,
“I’m in love. And with a beautifully talented Governor.”
Jared’s eyes narrowed. “A Governor?”
“It doesn’t matter – money isn’t important to me.”
“I’m not a Governor.” Jensen’s smile faded a little.
“You aren’t? Then why do they call you that?”
“They don’t. I’m Jared. I’m a writer.” Jensen’s eyes widened and he shoved Jared off him, backing up and wrapping the robe tightly around himself.
“A writer? You’re kidding me.”
“No, I thought Misha—“
“Misha?” Jensen snarled, fury turning his cheeks a mottled red. “You’re not one of Misha’s pet writers are you? Broke and searching for love and happiness in a ruined world?”
“Well, kind of. But you see—“
“No! No. Out!” Jensen shouted, heading toward his door. Jared stood still, at a loss for words. What had gone
wrong
?
Jensen threw open the door and gasped, closing it just as quickly. Sheppard and the Governor were standing in the doorway.
“Go!” He hissed.
Jared tried to duck out the window, but the door opened quickly, propelling Jensen forward. Jared dove behind the table at the last second, bumping his head and rattling the plates.
“Jenny! Where’d you run off to?” Sheppard asked, entering with the tall, bearded man.
“Just making sure everything was ready up here,” Jensen said coolly, leaning on the table. “You must be the Governor.”
The man stepped forward. He had dark eyes and dark hair – the hero of every mystery or romance novel. “You can call me Jeffrey.”
“Jeffrey,” Jensen giggled a little, bowing politely. “I’m so honored you took an interest in me.”
“Mm, I wasn’t so sure, but after seeing you on the stage – I had to have a closer look.”
Sheppard ducked out after Jensen gave a nod. Jensen glanced to where Jared was hiding, his eyes peeking out over the table.
“Would you like some wine, Jensen?” Jeffrey asked, turning to the table.
“No!”
Jeffrey startled, facing Jensen with wide eyes.
“Come and look outside. It’s such a gorgeous night. I love the air here after a show.” Jensen dragged Jeffrey toward the window and leaned out of the balcony, giving the man an excellent view of his ass.
“It’s… Smoggy,” Jeffrey said before turning back to the table. “I’m going to get a drink, and then we can—“
Jensen rushed in front of him and splayed his hands across Jeffrey’s chest. “It’s a little bit funny.”
“What is?”
“This feeling. Um, inside.”
“Oh?”
Jensen smiled and spun Jeffrey around so his back was to the table, slipping his hands across the older’s hips. He glanced up to see Jared standing slowly.
“I’m not one of those who can easily hide,” Jensen spoke, pulling Jeffrey closer to him. He could feel the man’s erection against his leg, but his focus was on Jared – please don’t let Jared get
caught.
Jeffrey scowled a little and began to turn to where Jensen was looking, but Jensen dropped to his knees, looking up at him with his best bedroom eyes.
“I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words… How wonderful life is, now you’re in the world
.”
Jeffrey gasped gently as Jensen stood, nuzzling against the side of his scruffy neck. He watched Jared sneak toward the door.
“That’s—Gorgeous, Jensen.”
“It’s from
Fabulously Spectacular
. I never really understood the point of the lyrics until I met you just now.”
“And what do you understand?” Jensen opened his mouth to answer as Jared opened the door to his bedroom. He shut it just as quickly, however, when he spotted a tall blonde man with a sidearm guarding the doorway.
Jeffrey jumped at the sound of the door shutting and went to turn until Jensen squealed, dragging him toward the bed.
“I wanna fuck.”
“F—Fuck?” Jeffrey clarified, confused by the change in behavior.
“Don’t you wanna? I mean – isn’t that what you’re here for?” Jensen spread his legs and slid his hands up his inner thighs, smirking when Jeffrey wet his lips.
“Well, yeah. Um—“
“Come on, baby.”
Jeffrey shrugged and tossed his coat aside, crawling over Jensen. He began to kiss up his neck and Jensen batted for Jared to escape through the window.
Jared rose but stopped at the balcony, watching the action on the bed. He wasn’t being perverted – but he couldn’t hide the hurt on his face. After what had just happened – what Jensen had just confessed –
Jensen glared then rolled his eyes. “You’re right. We should wait until the show opens,” He panted in Jeffrey’s ear.
Jared smirked at him and ducked out the window, climbing a few feet down the fire escape so he wouldn’t be seen.
Jensen pushed Jeffrey off. “You’re so powerful – I – I can’t bring myself to comprehend what we have already, so soon. You need to go.”
“Go? I just arrived,” Jeffrey argued. Jensen laughed.
“But we’ll see each other every day during the play’s rehearsal, right? We’ll wait until opening night and it’ll be
beautiful
.”
Jeffrey turned on him and grabbed his shoulders, startling Jensen a little. “If I’m going to invest in this play, Jensen, I expect you to come through with your part of the deal. You are of monetary value, according to Sheppard, are you not?”
The words hurt – even if Jensen knew they were true, they still stung to hear put so plainly. He smiled despite the pain and nodded.
“Of course, Jeffrey. I’m simply a perk that you get for agreeing to fund the play. All yours. A toy, if you will.” He slid his hand out and over Jeffrey’s crotch, giving a playful squeeze. “But aren’t toys more fun to play with if you’ve wanted them for a while?”
Jeffrey’s jaw clenched for a moment but he nodded. “Fine. As you wish, Jensen. I will collect you on opening night. If I approve of your little
play
.” He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Jensen slumped onto the bed, breathing hard.
Jared climbed back up the fire escape, motioning frantically at Misha to stop – he’d been climbing the stairs himself to see what the problem was. He turned around and laughed a little, having missed the conversation between Jensen and Jeffrey with Misha’s distraction.
Jensen rose from the bed. “Do you have any idea what would have happened if he’d caught you?”
“He didn’t though. And you didn’t sleep with him.”
He shook his head and rushed forward, shoving Jared lightly. “You idiot, he could’ve—could’ve—“ Jensen began to gasp a little, wrapping his hand lightly around his bulging neck.
“Jensen?” Jared worried.
“I—Can’t—“ Jensen’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed.
Jared jumped forward, catching him before his head hit the hardwood floor. “Jensen?” He shook him gently, trying to rouse him. Panic rose in his throat. “Jensen!”
He shifted, trying to shuffle Jensen toward the bed so he could make sure he was still breathing. “Jensen!” He cried again, collapsing onto the bed with him. He reached up to feel for a pulse just as the door opened.
“I forgot my jacke—“ Jeffrey froze, meeting Jared’s wide eyed expression.
“Jeffrey,” Jensen whispered from under Jared. He backed up quickly, his hands shaking. This could ruin everything.
“A funny feeling inside, huh?” Jeffrey spat.
Jensen laughed a little and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He was still a little confused from his unconscious state. “This is the writer of that song, Jeffrey. Jared.”
“Uh, huh. What is
Jared
doing here?”
“We were rehearsing,” Jensen explained, rising and cinching the robe around his waist.
“Right. In that outfit? Where’s everyone e—“
“Sorry we’re so late, Jenny! Those fools wouldn’t let us in the front door!” Misha cried, climbing up the fire escape. He was followed by the other group members, crowding the small apartment.
Jensen grinned, relieved at Misha’s perfect timing. “No problem, Jared and I were just getting a head start.”
“Perfect. Do you wanna take it from the top?” Misha asked, shoving past Jeffrey to hang his coat.
Jeffrey grabbed Jensen’s arm in a bruising grip. “You really don’t think I believe this, do you?”
“Believe what you want, dear. But when we talked… I was so inspired, I realized that we have so much work to do with the new writer that I called up an emergency rehearsal here and now. I was going to get dressed but Jared arrived quickly and I didn’t want to be completely nude in front of him, I may be an escort but I do have manners.”
“Where’s Sheppard?”
“I didn’t w—“ The door burst open again and Jensen couldn’t hide his eye roll – he
really
needed a damn lock.
“I’m so sorry, Sir—“
“Mark! Thank God! We thought you wouldn’t be able to make it!”
“Make it?”
“To the rehearsal.”
Sheppard’s eyes narrowed. “Rehearsal.”
“Mhm. To incorporate Jeffrey’s brilliant ideas.”
“Oh! Well I guess Tahmoh—“
“Tahmoh quit,” Misha said from next to Jared, smiling awkwardly.
“I’m sorry, he
what?
” Sheppard snapped, turning his gaze to Misha. Jensen grabbed him before he flew off the handle.
“Surprise! We already have a new writer and Jeffrey
loves
his ideas. It’s the only reason he’s so keen to invest.”
“I-Invest! Excellent! Well, I’m so glad you want to work with us,” Sheppard cried, the prospect of money making him forget the fiasco taking place in the apartment. “Would you like to go downstairs with me and go over paperwork—“
“What’s the story?” Jeffrey asked, crossing his arms.
“The—Story?” Sheppard asked.
“Well, I mean I wanna know what the story is if I’m gonna dump money into it.”
“Oh, well, Misha?” Sheppard looked at Misha. When all eyes turned to him he froze, opening his mouth and closing it a few times before Jared stepped up.
“It’s about love.”
“Love?” Jeffrey looked almost disgusted. Jared clenched his jaw for a moment before putting on a smile.
“Yeah. Love being the greatest thing in the world. Overcoming any obstacle.”
“We’re making it take place in Switzerland!” Misha chimed in, earning a glare from Jared.
“Switzerland?” Jeffrey asked.
“France,” Jared quickly corrected. “It’s set in France. See, there’s this beautiful male courtesan. But he’s forced to be with an evil Duke who’s supposed to help the courtesan succeed in life. To do this, he has to sleep with the Duke. But you see, on the night of the affair, the courtesan mistakes a w—musician for the Duke and falls in love with him.” He hesitated and looked over at Jensen, smiling a bit. “It was just a mistake, he wasn’t trying to trick the courtesan or anything, he was dressed like a Duke because he’s going to be in a play.”
Robbie stepped up, seeing Jared stumble over his words. “I’ll be playing the poor musician.” He grabbed a guitar from the corner of the room and strummed it experimentally, dancing toward Jeffrey. “He can sing like a god, you see.”
Jeffrey grimaced at Robbie, taking a step back to preserve his personal space. “Alright, what next?”
“The musician and the courtesan have to hide their affair from the evil Duke.”
“But the musician’s guitar is magic. It speaks, but it can only speak the truth,” Richard spoke up, and Jared grinned widely, nodding to him.
“I’ll be playing the guitar,” Misha said, snagging it from Robbie and hugging the instrument close. He nuzzled up to Jensen, who smiled and rolled his eyes. “You’re so handsome.”
“You’re a fool,” Jensen teased, and Misha winked. He turned to Sheppard.
“You’re ugly as an old sock.” Sheppard’s eyes narrowed and he slapped Misha upside the head. Misha laughed and turned to Jeffrey.
“And you’re t—“
“No!” Jared and Jensen cried, slapping their hands over Misha’s mouth. Jensen smiled sheepishly and Jared chuckled.
Jeffrey scowled a little and nodded. “So he lets the truth out about the lovers.”
“Exactly!” Jared cried, excited about how this was all coming together.
“What about dancing?” Sheppard asked.
Jared looked at him. “D—Dancing?”
“Yes, you surely can’t have a play with some of San Francisco’s finest dancers without dancing.”
“Of course, there’ll be all sorts of dirty, erotic, thrusting dance moves,” Robbie filled in, grinding almost comically against Jensen, who laughed a little. He placed his hand over Robbie’s face and pushed him away.
“Save it for the stage, Rob.”
“But it’s so fun,” Robbie teased. Jensen laughed more and shook his head.
“Flirt.”
“Tease,” Robbie said.
“It’s my job.”
Sheppard pushed between the two and clapped his hand on Jeffrey’s back. “So what do you think?”
“What do I think?”
“About the show.”
“It’s… Interesting,” Jeffrey said and Sheppard’s face drooped.
“Just interesting? Not... Spectacular?”
“Well, I’m not sure about some of it. For instance, what is the
appeal
of the whole thing?”
Sheppard looked to the group and Jim smirked. “The appeal is that it’s not been done before. We’ll have so many new elements, nothing could ever compare.”
“What elements?” Jeffrey prodded.
“Well acrobats,” Misha said.
“And circus performers!” Richard added.
“Fire eaters,” Jim said.
“Danger, and intrigue, and most importantly, romance,” Robbie finished.
“No one has ever seen nor will ever see a show like this, and that’s what will draw the crowds if we have the right atmosphere,” Misha said, pointing his walking stick at Jeffrey, “And that’s where you come in.”
“Well alright, I understand that. But how does the whole thing end?” He asked, grabbing a chair from the desk and sitting down to face the group.
Jensen cleared his throat, looking over at Misha, who looked at Jim, who looked at Richard. Finally, Jared stepped up. “See, the courtesan and the musician are found out, and the Duke creates a vicious plan that pulls them apart.”
“But then the courtesan hears the special song the musician wrote for him,” Jensen continued, smiling over at Jared.
“And they realize that their love is strong enough to overcome all obstacles,” Jared finishes, returning the soft smile.
“It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside…
That song?” Jeffrey cleared. Jared nodded.
“That’s what I believe will be the correct song for that point. Anyway, they flee the city and the evil Duke.”
“Should someone die?” Jeffrey offered. Jared blinked at him for a few seconds, confused as to how he even came to that conclusion.
“Uh—Love overcomes everything in the end,” He said, instead of answering Jeffrey’s question.
The group was silent, watching Jeffrey. He rose and paced back and forth in front of the chair for a moment, tapping his fingers on his chin.
“Generally, I like it.”
Everyone cheered, rushing up to shake Jeffrey’s hand. They’d done it. It was close – but Sheppard now had the funds to fix the theatre portion of the club, the show was going to happen.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Things should have been perfect. I heard the group upstairs, feet pounding the floor as they danced to some inaudible music, the bass thumping my tiny apartment.
Misha had found me a bed; he’d surprised me with it when we returned to my apartment building after securing the okay from Sheppard to move forward with Fabulously Spectacular. So, this was it. This was going to be my life, at least for the next two months. Enough time to write the show and get the theatre renovated, practice – I looked around the small apartment from my view at the window sill. The bed – new by my standards but certainly not new at all, a rickety old desk with a small laptop and a chair that I knew would give me sores and a backache if I sat in it too long.
I should’ve been happy. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Jensen. Those shining green eyes and that smattering of freckles like the sky itself imprinted a galaxy across his nose. I wondered what he was doing – was he with Sheppard? Or another of the dancers? Was he thinking about me?
My eyes found their way over to the Castro, and up, up to where I knew Jensen’s room was. The curtains were drawn together, but I could see a thin line of light spilling from them, a beacon in the otherwise muted night colors this high up. It was drawing me in. I should have been writing, but he was so close.
I thought back to tonight, my poetry – my song – it exploded out of me without a prior thought, as if my muse had been awoken from a centuries long slumber at the sight of Jensen’s smooth, perfect skin. And my muse wanted more. It was an ache, a longing in my stomach and heart and head all at the same time, seeking the feel of Jensen’s flesh under my rough hands once again.
The curtains in Jensen’s apartment fluttered for a moment before he stepped out on the balcony. Even shrouded by the light behind him, I could make out his form – radiant as ever. He was wearing pants now and a long-sleeved shirt or sweater. He leaned over the balcony and reached out, grabbing the fire escape ladder before pulling himself onto it. Where was he going? Up – from the looks of it.
Before I really knew what I was doing I dragged myself off my window sill and tugged on my hoodie, swinging my legs out the window and down the rickety fire escape on my own building. I had to see him – speak to him about what happened tonight without the prying ears of my new friends, or his new suitor.
***
Jared could hear Jensen’s voice rising as he climbed the stairs up the side of the building.
“I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory…”
Jared hoisted himself onto the roof, standing still. Jensen had his back turned to Jared, looking up at the bright, full moon. Jared’s prior thoughts had been right; Jensen was wearing a pair of tight fitting stonewashed jeans. His feet were still bare, but he was wearing a red and black flannel shirt, a soft scarf wrapped around his neck.
“But we’ll try best that we can to ca—
Oh!
”
Jensen turned around as he sang, jumping and covering his mouth when he caught sight of Jared.
Jared threw his hands up, afraid Jensen was going to scream and stepped forward. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I saw you up here and thought I—I wanted to say thanks. I know I got the job because of you. It means a lot.”
Jensen dropped his hands slowly, playing one of the buttons on his shirt. “Oh, well. You deserve it. Misha was right, you are definitely talented. But I should get to bed. And I’m sure you have a ton of writing to do. We have a long day tomorrow.” He walked toward Jared, heading for the stairs.
“Wait,” Jared held out his hand for a second, careful not to grab Jensen. He didn’t want to frighten him. “I have a question.”
“What?” They were much closer, and Jared found it hard to speak once again. Jensen wasn’t looking at him, rather he was studying the rough cement under his feet.
“Earlier. When you thought I was Jeffrey. You said you loved me and I—“
“Wanted to know if it was real?” Jensen whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Of course not.” Jared’s heart sank at Jensen’s flippant reply. He lowered his hand.
“Oh. It felt like it was real was all,” He said softly, tears burning the back of his throat.
Jensen snorted and looked over at Jared. “Jared, I’m a whore. Men and women pay me to make them believe whatever they want to believe and feel whatever they want to feel.”
Jared shook his head, waving his hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have thought you could actually fall in love with someone like me anyway. Sorry I bothered you.” He turned to step down the fire escape, but Jensen grabbed his shoulder.
“Why would you think I couldn’t?”
Jared chuckled weakly and shrugged. “I’m not your type.”
“Again, I’m a whore. I don’t have a type.”
“Stop calling yourself a whore, Jensen. You’re a talented singer and dancer, and I know you can act, otherwise Misha wouldn’t want you in the play so bad.”
“I could be the most talented man in the world, Jared. I’d still be a prostitute first. And you are my type. I just—I can’t fall in love.”
Jared’s head whipped up. “Can’t fall in love? That’s terrible!”
“No, being homeless and poor is terrible.”
“But love, it’s our souls!”
“You’re not making sense, Jared.”
“Love is a flower with seeds to be sewn, love is like the wind, wild wind, I’d do
anything
for love,” Jared cried.
“But
I
won’t do that,” Jensen said softly.
Jared shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. He grabbed Jensen’s hands and began to sing,
“It’s amazing, it’s amazing, all that you can do—“
“I do what I can to eat,” Jensen explained, tugging his hands away and turning his back to Jared. Jared circled around him and grinned.
“It’s amazing, makes my heart sing. Now, it’s up to you
.”
“I don’t want to be on the street!” Jensen pleaded.
“Push the limit, are you with me? Baby, don’t be afraid…”
“We don’t see eye to eye
,” Jensen argued in verse, hoping to make Jared understand if he spoke the writer’s language.
“You are my everything,
” Jared shot back, unfazed, “
you taught me how to sing! You took a chance on me, opened my heart to see.”
Jensen sighed and stepped away from Jared, further onto the roof. As he did he responded,
“The only way you’ll see a thing, baby is if you pay my hefty fees.”
“
You don’t have to be rich, to rule my world,”
Jared pleaded, singing across the roof. Jensen turned and smirked.
“But
you
gotta be rich, to give me a whirl.”
He spun, the jeans he was wearing giving a perfect view of his ass as he did so. Jared rolled his eyes.
“Then I’ll be your temporary fix!”
Jensen laughed a little but Jared continued, “
Even if it’s just one night…”
“You’re beyond insane! This causes nothing but pain,”
Jensen argued, circling back to Jared. He grabbed the handrail to the fire escape and began to descend it.
“
Don’t
!” Jared paused a second, meeting Jensen’s gaze.
“Make it tough—I’ll put away my pride.”
He smiled weakly. “
Enough’s enough. I’ve suffered and I’ve seen the light.
”
Jensen sighed a bit and climbed back onto the roof. He rubbed his neck nervously, turning away from Jared and looking back up at the moon.
“The book of love is long and boring. No one can lift the damn thing.”
“But I – I love it when you read to me. And you, you can read me anything
.” Jared winked at Jensen when he looked over his shoulder.
“The book of love is long and boring, and written very long ago… It’s full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes… These are things that we’re too young to know.”
“But what’s wrong with that?” Jared whispered. He stepped up to Jensen and turned him gently, their noses brushing.
“I wanna know
,” He leaned close, almost tasting the air Jensen was breathing through those pink, parted lips.
Jensen pushed back at the last second, turning his head and stepping back toward the center of the roof.
“Baby it’s fact!”
Jared sang out, leaping onto the thin overhang of the roof. He stumbled a little, catching his balance. A fall from this height would surely kill him, but he was determined to prove his point.
“Our love won the tug of war!”
He could hear Jensen crying out for him to get down but grinned back at him and continued to sing,
“When push comes to shove, love can’t be undone!”
Jensen snagged the back of his hoodie and dragged him back to the safety of the roof, giving him a little shove.
“You think you’re in control? I think you’re crazy! I barely know you, but I knew you’d come around.”
He turned and headed down. Jared stood still, contemplating letting Jensen go – but no – if this was something worth fighting for, he’d go down fighting.
“The two of us are just young gods!”
He cried, stopping Jensen before his head dipped below the wall. Jared rushed to the stairs then and Jensen shook his head.
“No. They’ll say awful things,” Jensen argued as he descended the stairs.
“Who cares?” Jared asked, following.
“And I—I don’t know what’s even true,” Jensen said, hopping over onto his balcony.
Jared followed once more and stood at the railing.
“We should be lovers!”
“We can’t do that
,” Jensen sang softly. Jared approached him slowly, reaching for him, but Jensen backed further into the room.
“Baby it’s fact, our love is true… The way black is black, and blue is just blue—“
He reached for Jensen’s hand, brushing their fingers together. Jensen jerked his hand back and turned away from Jared.
“Don’t get cut on my edges—You know my tongue is a weapon
.”
“The two of us are just young gods, and I can hear your heartbeat from a thousand miles… Don’t you feel like a young god?
”
Jensen met his gaze, his glare softening. He allowed Jared to turn him, dragging him back over the balcony and holding his hands as they sang in turn,
“Baby it’s fact,”
“the two of us are young gods,”
“and our love is true…”
“Do you feel like a young god?”
Jared stroked Jensen’s cheek.
“Cause you don’t have to be cool to rule my world.”
“And you don’t have to be rich, to rule my world,”
Jensen conceded.
Jared held him closer and Jensen took a shaky breath before singing softly,
“How wonderful life is…”
Jared joined in, “
now you’re in the world…
”
Jensen’s cheeks pinked up as their melody faded. He shook his head, not stepping back from Jared. “You know what?”
“What?”
“You’re going to be terrible for business,” Jensen whispered before dragging Jared’s head down into their first kiss.
***
I had always dreamed of my first real kiss. Sure, I’d kissed plenty of people over eighteen years of life, but it was never a real kiss. I hadn’t dated in high school, there was no point. My dad wouldn’t let me date a boy and it wasn’t fair to lie to a girl just to be normal. I knew what I wanted. So I waited. I hoped that someday I’d find a guy who cared for me. That’s who’d give me my first kiss.
And in the waiting, I began to daydream. What my first lover’s lips would taste like. Where we would kiss the first time. What it would feel like…
Kissing Jensen that evening on the balcony of his apartment blew all my prior assumptions out of the water. His mouth was sweet – I could taste a hint of the wine that had been sitting on the table earlier that evening, and the fruits – strawberry and blueberry at least. His lips were full and wet, sliding and slotting perfectly against my own.
I could smell his cologne and the distinct musk that was simply Jensen. His hands rested on the small of my back, I could feel the heat even through my hoodie and t-shirt. The rough fabric of his flannel shirt as I dragged my keyboard callused fingers over it sparked my nerves – all that freckled skin just under those layers.
***
Jensen separated them far too soon for Jared’s liking. He was breathing quickly, his cheeks pinked. Jared could barely see the emerald irises he was so famous for around his pupils, blown wide. “Move this to the bed?”
Jared froze. “I—No.”
Jensen furrowed his brows. “No? I—I mean, okay but… Is there something wrong?”
“No, I just—“ Jared looked at the ground. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Jared, it’s sex. I’m sure you’re fine.”
Jared shook his head. “No. I’m nowhere near fine. I can’t.”
“Can’t what? I’m clean – I get tested every few months, so you don’t need to worry about that. But I have condoms, if you want. And—“ Jensen paused, his face drooping a little. “Is it because I’m a prostitute?”
Jared’s head whipped up. “No! God, Jensen no – that doesn’t matter to me. I just… I don’t know how,” He admitted in a whisper, his cheeks mottling with embarrassment.
“Don’t know how? You—You’re a virgin?” Jensen tried, but couldn’t hide the giggle that escaped. Jared looked toward the city, wanting nothing more than to curl up under a rock.
“Yeah, go ahead and laugh, I’m a virgin. I’d just disappoint you. I’m gonna… We should get sleep. And I gotta write—“
“Jared, I didn’t mean to laugh.” Jensen reached out and grabbed his hand. “I don’t care that you’re a virgin.”
“You would. You’ve got so much experience and I—I’ve never seen a nude guy in real life outside of gym class. You’d laugh me right out of bed.”
“Having experience doesn’t mean anything. You wanna know what my experience amounts to? Me laying face down while guys use my ass, or the rare moment when I have a female client or the guy wants me to top. I’m a walking, talking, sex toy, Jared. I’ve never had someone have sex with me that gives two shits about if I like what’s happening or if I come – That’s not experience.”
Jared looked up at him, grimacing at the description. “But you’ve done this for years – surely you have to like it a little.”
Jensen snorted and shook his head, walking away from Jared and pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle on the table. “I do what needs to be done so I can stay off the street. You think I like whoring myself out? Starving myself so I look pretty for all the men and women that wanna see how loud they can make me scream? You think I like knowing how much people love it when I cry? No, I don’t like it. I do it because it’s the only reason I’m not wandering the streets down there or dead. I do it because it’s the only way people want me.”
Jared strode up to him, his jaw set. He grabbed the glass of wine and set it down, wrapping his fingers lightly under Jensen’s chin to lift his head. “That’s not why I want you.”
Jensen smiled weakly. “It was at first. You can admit it. My dancing – I do it to make people want me.”
“But that’s not you. That’s what you do. I fell for
you
.”
“You don’t even know me.”
Jared blinked – Jensen wasn’t wrong. He shrugged. “Then let me. Tell me about yourself.”
“What is there to tell? I’m a whore who wants to be an actor. I’m Jensen.”
“What don’t I know? What don’t you tell every client that walks through those doors. What do you keep inside, hide from everyone else?”
Jensen opened his mouth then closed it. He pulled his chin out of Jared’s grip. “Um… What do you really want to know I guess?”
“Your last name would be nice?” Jared said, smiling a little. Jensen laughed, looking down for a second.
“Ackles.”
“Ackles. I like it. Where are you from, Jensen Ackles?”
Jensen shook his head. “What’s your game, Jared?”
“My game?’
“Yeah. What do you think you’ll win if you get to know me?”
Jared bit his lip, considering his answer. “I’ll get to know the man I’ve fallen in love with. As more than a dancer, or an escort, or an actor. And maybe I’ll get to be someone that he can confide in.” He shrugged and reached out, offering his hand to Jensen.
“What?” Jensen asked, glancing at Jared’s hand.
“Let’s go sit out on the balcony and talk.” Jensen blinked at him, confused, but took Jared’s hand. He allowed himself to be pulled onto the balcony.
Jared sat down, his back to the railing, and opened his arms for Jensen to sit between his knees.
***
And we talked. We talked until we were both droopy eyed and the birds were singing. Until the sun began to peek over the cityscape, illuminating the dingy buildings in the place we both called home. We talked about everything, and learned we weren’t really all that different. I told him my life story, as dull as it was, and Jensen told me his.
He’d had moved to San Francisco from Texas ten years ago, when he was twelve. His father had died when he was a toddler: a police officer killed on the job. His mother had been diagnosed with cancer when he was eight. After trying various treatments, she’d moved them out to San Francisco with hopes for a new, better doctor.
She’d died shortly before Jensen’s sixteenth birthday. He had no other family and hadn’t made friends in San Francisco – he’d been too busy taking care of his ailing mother – so when she died he was on his own. The foster care system wasn’t the best in his case – he easily slipped through the cracks and found himself on the street.
That was where Jensen met Sheppard. He’d been trying to break into one of the empty apartments above the Castro when Sheppard had spotted him. There was nowhere to run, so he’d faced his fate. He was seventeen and wasn’t sure what the cops would do to him – but anything was better than living on the street at this point.
But Sheppard saw through the dirt and the malnourishment to the beautiful boy underneath. He took Jensen in and fed him, clothed him – made him feel like he had a safe place. The only thing Sheppard asked in return was that he work for him. Learn to dance, or at least serve drinks to the patrons.
And that worked for a while. Jensen was happy – but he was sucked into the allure of the Castro. He began to work with Osric on their days off. Osric was one of their best male dancers and had quickly become Jensen’s dearest friend. Osric taught him how to dance, how to move his body – use his body to appeal to the customers.
Jensen took his first paying client on the night of his eighteenth birthday, and he hadn’t slowed down for a second. He couldn’t tell me the number of men and women he’d slept with, or the number of nights he’d danced, writhed against sweaty bodies and moaned in the ears of men who wanted nothing more than to rip his clothes off and fuck him unconscious.
He was twenty when he first met Misha and the others. They were trying to start a play – as they had been for years, I’d now gathered. Sheppard and Misha were friends, though neither would admit it. But Sheppard knew Misha had a wild spark that would take his employees away, so he tried his best to shield them – especially the successful ones like Jensen – from Misha’s antics and rhetoric.
It hadn’t worked. Jensen was just as enthralled in the idea of the New Revolution as any of the homeless street rats Misha hung out with. But he was scared. He didn’t want to leave the place he’d created for himself with Sheppard. Even if it was exhausting and painful – he didn’t want to be on the street again. The months after his mother’s death had taught him that anything was better than a life on the street. So he became friends with Misha and Robbie and the others, but he kept a safe distance. He was still successful, even if he longed to be down there with them.
When Misha came to Sheppard with the idea for Fabulously Spectacular, it was actually Jensen that convinced him it could be a good thing. He knew the Castro was failing. Despite the number of patrons it brought in, the expensive upkeep of the place was burning a hole in Sheppard’s wallet. He could barely afford to pay the bills, let alone keep his employees well paid. A successful play like this one could rake in a lot of money, plus bring a whole new life to the Castro that it had been missing for a very long time.
And it was only a few months later that I came into the picture, and we ended up like this.
***
By the time Jensen finished his story, he was yawning every few seconds. Jared smiled a little, tucking his own hair back behind his ear.
“You should go now,” Jensen said softly, leaning his head on Jared’s chest.
“I feel like I just arrived.”
“Mm, but the sun’s up. Sheppard’s gonna be up here in a few hours if I’m not down for practice. And I know you have to write still.”
“When can I see you again?”
Jensen stood slowly, stretching his aching back. “We’ll see each other at rehearsal – I’m sure Sheppard will call you boys for a meeting sometime today.”
Jared rose and turned Jensen, pulling him tight to his body. “I meant alone,” He said with a chuckle.
Jensen smiled as well, wrapping his arms around Jared’s shoulders. “I know what you meant. How about tonight? We won’t be able to stay up this late – a man needs his rest – but we can have a quiet dinner, maybe. Talk a bit more.”
“That sounds great.”
“Jared, you know you can’t tell anyone about us,” Jensen warned. “The Governor – he thinks I’m a whore for his benefit only.”
“I know. But, Misha –“
“Tell Misha if you have to but
force
him to keep it quiet. I care for you but we
have
to be careful. The Governor is our only hope.
My
only hope.”
Jared nodded. “I will. I’ll see you soon, Jensen.”
Jensen leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Jared’s mouth. “Go now, before someone sees us.”
Jared smiled and kissed him once more before backing up, climbing carefully down the fire escape and hurrying the short distance to his own apartment building.
Jensen watched him go, a soft smile on his lips.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sheppard paced back and forth in his small office, wishing desperately that he still smoked.
Anything
to take his mind off the business at hand. It had been close the night before – Misha and that new author had really saved the day.
But now it was business. The Governor was coming by at promptly ten that morning to discuss the terms of the deal that would give Sheppard the funds to renovate the Castro back into the theatre that it was meant to be. The bills glared up at him, silently mocking him whenever he faced the hardwood desk. Without this funding, the Castro would be lost and all of his employees – his
family
by this point – would be out on the street again.
What Sheppard did wasn’t strictly legal, but no one really cared to report him. Even if they had, the majority of the police force had visited the Castro at least once, and a good number of officers were regular customers. No one could resist the appeal of Jensen and the others.
Jensen – the one shining spot in his otherwise miserable existence. Sheppard loved Jensen like a son. He’d dragged the boy in off the street and fixed him – and in turn the boy had begun to help, do much more than his share. He’d never wanted Jensen to become one of his escorts, but he couldn’t deny that he’d begun making so much more money after the premiere of the Shining Emerald.
And now with the Governor hanging around, the guilt was eating Sheppard alive. He knew the Governor fancied Jensen, and had hoped that one night of pleasure would be enough. But when Misha and the group burst in – what if he wanted more? It wasn’t like Sheppard could say no, not really. Not without risking everyone.
***
The clock in the office had barely chimed ten when the door to Sheppard’s office swung open. Jeffrey stood there, his bodyguard looming behind him. “Good morning, Mr. Sheppard.”
“Good morning, Mr. Morgan. Do you care for a drink?” He offered, opening the liquor cabinet near his desk.
“No, thank you. Straight to business today.”
“Of course, please, take a seat.” Sheppard sat on his side of the desk while Jeffrey took the other, across from him.
“Now, I’ve taken the liberty of calculating some approximate costs of renovating the theatre,” Sheppard began, passing the papers over to Jeffrey.
He took them and looked over them, nodding to himself or grunting. “This is quite a sum of money, Sheppard.”
“I know. It is quite expensive. But a lot of work needs to be put into the theatre to make it a comfortable and workable space for the actors and the audience.”
“Very well. I have also had my lawyer draft up a few documents – a contract if you will.” Jeffrey snapped and the bodyguard rose, tossing a folder in front of Sheppard.
He jumped a little, trying to smile at the strange blonde man. “Don’t say much, do you?”
“No,” the man said before turning and sitting back down near the door. Jeffrey snorted.
“Don’t mind Mark. He’s not a man of many words but he does his job.”
“Two Marks – could get confusing,” Sheppard tried to joke. When it fell flat, he opened the file and pulled out the contract, beginning to read over it.
“Of course, I am open to changing some of the terms – upon discussion,” Jeffrey said, fixing his jacket. “But there is one key point that I will not change and I would like to make
very
clear to you.”
“Which is?” Sheppard asked, looking up at Jeffrey.
“I have a clause in the contract that binds Jensen to me exclusively. No more prostituting, no more anything. He will be mine. And of course, due to the… Nature of your type of people, I want some form of security. The deed to the Castro.”
Sheppard dropped the contract. “Governor, you can’t be serious.”
“I am very serious. I know that Jensen is a beautiful man and I am well aware that he is your primary money-maker, as it were. But Jensen will be mine. And mine alone. I’m not a jealous man, Sheppard. But I don’t like other people touching my things!” He spat, startling Sheppard.
“I—“
“Don’t. This is something I am not going to waver on, Sheppard. Jensen will be mine and you will guarantee that by giving me the deed to your precious theatre. And if I catch wind of anything going on, I will destroy your theatre and everything you hold dear.” His eyes flitted over to Mark in the corner, who opened his jacket to reveal a concealed pistol. “Are we clear, Sheppard?”
Sheppard swallowed hard. Jensen was his life. But – The people in the theatre, they were his too. Under his care. Surely, Jensen would understand. For the greater good.
“I understand, Governor. This contract is fine.”
“Great. Bring in a witness, we’ll use Pellegrino as a second, and we’ll get this signed and filed.”
“Sure. O—“ He hesitated, a sick feeling in his stomach. He felt like he was betraying Jensen. “Osric!”
Osric popped his head in. “What’s up?”
“Come here for a moment. The Governor and I need a second witness to watch the signing of the contract.”
“The contract?” Osric asked, but entered the office.
“For the loan we need. To renovate the theatre portion of the Castro.”
“You mean we—We’re doing the play?”
Sheppard nodded, smiling when Osric gave a happy cheer.
He pulled the contract over and signed it and the copy, passing it to Jeffrey to sign. When they were finished, he reached into a drawer and pulled out an envelope.
“Your security,” Sheppard said softly. Jeffrey slipped it into the folder with his copy of the contract.
“Excellent. Here is the first check – call me if you need more. And keep the receipts.” He wrote out a check and passed it over to Sheppard. “I would like dinner with Jensen tonight, if that’s possible.”
“Of course. I’m going to call the dancers and the producers of the play into a meeting, you’re welcome to join.”
“I would be delighted to. When?”
“I should be able to gather everyone by two this afternoon.”
“We’ll see you then, Sheppard. Good doing business with you.”
Both men rose and shook hands. Jeffrey and Mark walked out, leaving Osric and Sheppard alone in the room. Osric looked concerned, wringing his hands together.
“What is it?”
“That was too easy. What did you have to give up?”
Sheppard looked at the contract on his desk, heaving a sigh. “The Governor seems to have developed a bit of an obsession with Jensen. The stipulation of the contract was that I remove him from escorting… And require him to date Jeffrey.”
Osric gaped. “What? Sheppard – What if Jensen doesn’t
want
to date that creep?”
“That creep is the one reason we’re able to keep running right now, Osric. Jensen knows that. He’ll be willing to do what needs to be done.”
“It’s not fair to him.”
“You don’t think I don’t know that? This deal
kills
me to have to make. But it’s one man versus all of you and our entire lives. Do you want to be on the street again? Because that’s what will happen if the Governor pulls his funding for this play. Jensen knows that. And besides, he’s not dating anyone. Now he only has to sleep with one man, instead of half the city.”
Osric’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not fair. He’s not a piece of meat, Sheppard.”
“I know. And I hate this. But I will do what needs to be done to keep all of you safe. It’s for the greater good. The show must go on.”
***
And the show did go on. But Jensen didn’t attend dinner with Jeffrey that night, or the next. Instead, he spent them in my or Misha’s apartment, working on the play.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Jensen was laying on Misha’s couch, his bare feet kicked up on the back. He was dressed in normal clothes – a pair of tight fitting jeans and one of Jared’s t-shirts – rather than his normal semi-professional attire. It was easier to slip in and out of the Castro when he looked civilian, he realized.
Misha was behind the small counter that marked the kitchen, stirring a pot of stew on the stove as they watched Jared act out a recently written scene of the play.
“
You betrayed me!”
Jared cried, mimicking Sheppard as best he could. “And then, the evil Duke, jealous and cruel, forces the courtesan to make the musician believe he doesn’t love him,” Jared continued, flailing his arms out, a notebook gripped in one hand.
“Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with
love
, the musician says, throwing money at the courtesan and leaving forever,” Jared went toward the window, throwing it open and climbing onto the sill, throwing his arms out as if to jump.
“No!” Both Jensen and Misha cried together, laughing when Jared turned back and climbed back into the apartment.
“This is absolute brilliance, Jared. I knew you could do this,” Misha said, coming around the counter and handing Jensen a small bowl of cut fruit. He took it gratefully and popped one into his mouth before speaking.
“But a life without love – no one should have to suffer like that.”
“You’re right,” Jared said, going to Jensen. He sat on the couch and pulled Jensen’s legs onto his lap, leaning over and plucking one of the slices of orange from his fingers with his mouth. He smirked and swallowed it before continuing, “That’s when the musician, with his magical guitar—“
“That’s my part,” Misha cried, motioning to Jared with the spoon he was using to stir.
Jared smirked and pulled Jensen up, setting the bowl of fruit on the coffee table before kissing over his neck. “The magical guitar says—“
“Don’t you dare,” Misha warned, coming around to sit with the two. Together, both Jared and Misha spoke,
“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”
Jensen smiled softly, looking between the two. Everything was perfect. He had friends, he had Jared – nothing mattered when it was like this. Not the fact that he was an escort, not money or fame or power, not the Castro or Jeffrey – Just life and love. Love for the first time in his existence. There was no way it could have gotten better.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
And it continued like that through the weeks. Jensen avoided Jeffrey whenever he could, only paying attention to him at rehearsal before coming up with some excuse why he couldn’t go to dinner with him. If it wasn’t dancing at the club, it usually had to do with another scene to rehearse or music to work on, and of course, Misha, Richard, and Rob were always there to agree, backing up Jensen’s story. They knew the truth, but they didn’t mind – finding love was so magical and important to me and to Jensen, and even a blind person could see what we had was true.
Tonight’s excuse was another lie about a scene I had written. I had written a scene – that part was true. But Jensen definitely wasn’t working on memorizing the part. Instead, he was nestled against my chest in bed, listening to me talk about my high school memories.
***
“So you let him bully you?”
“It was easier than risking the whole school learning I was gay. Just not something I wanted to deal with.”
Jensen nodded, stroking his hand over Jared’s chest, covered with a threadbare v-neck t-shirt. “I understand. I’m glad you’re able to be yourself here.”
Jared looked down, smiling softly at Jensen. “Well, we are still hiding something. But it’s for a good reason.”
Jensen tilted his head up, allowing their mouths to brush together softly. He smirked against Jared’s mouth, deepening the kiss before flipping Jared onto his back and straddling his hips. Jared gasped, sliding his hands under Jensen’s shirt to graze over the soft skin of his back.
Jensen pulled back and leaned up, stripping his shirt off. He looked down at Jared. “I don’t want to sound crass… But we’ve been dating for weeks now, Jared, and not gone further than making out and grinding in bed like horny teenagers. Do you think… You might be ready for more?”
“You’re asking about sex,” Jared clarified, looking anywhere but at Jensen when he realized. Jensen grabbed his face, forcing him to look directly at him.
“You ask like it’s some horrible thing. I’m not going to force you, Jared – but if you’re shy about it because you’re a virgin, I’ve told you that you don’t have to be.”
Jared pushed Jensen’s hands off his face and sat up, wiggling out from under him. He stood and wandered to the refrigerator in the corner of the room, withdrawing a bottle of water. He could feel Jensen staring at him, so he wandered over to the window and leaned on the sill, watching the cars on the street below.
“Jared, I didn’t mean to make you mad,” Jensen said softly.
“I’m not mad.”
“But you’re not even looking at me. I just – this is a whole new area for me. I don’t know what’s supposed to be acceptable in a relationship that’s based on more than how much sex I can offer.” The bed creaked as Jensen rose from it, closing the gap between them and wrapping his arms around Jared’s middle.
Jared’s shoulders relaxed a little. He set his hand over Jensen’s and squeezed. “I know. And I know you don’t mean to push. I also know that you don’t care I’m a virgin, but I do. I want our first time together to be special though, you know? I don’t wanna screw it up cause I’m nervous or do something wrong.”
Jensen moved around Jared, sliding between him and the window. He wrapped his arms around Jared’s neck, looking up at him with a soft smile. “You could never do anything wrong, Jared. The thought of finally having you in that way… It’s definitely gotten me through a few private moments.”
Jared blushed at Jensen’s implication, moving to step back, but Jensen held tight. “Hey. I mean it. I don’t care if we last five minutes or five hours, as long as it’s with you… I’ll be happy.”
“I just wanna make it good for you.”
Jensen’s smile grew. He slid his hands down Jared’s arms and wrapped them around his hips, lightly squeezing Jared’s ass. “Well you won’t know if it’ll be good for me if you never try it, will you?”
Jared clenched his jaw, the muscle twitching in his cheek. “Jen..” He hissed, his eyes slipping shut. Jensen continued, pressing his body tight to Jared’s. He moved one hand between them, cupping the bulge of his cock and giving a light squeeze.
“You want me, Jared. And I want you,” He whispered, his lips brushing over Jared’s neck. “You don’t have to be afraid of this.”
Jared’s face twisted into a grimace for a moment before he grabbed the back of Jensen’s neck, turning them to press Jensen to the wall. Their lips met in a desperate kiss. Jared grabbed Jensen’s hips, giving into the need he’d been fighting for the past few weeks. He pushed his crotch forward, grinding against Jensen and pulling a groan from his throat.
Jensen lifted his leg, curling it around Jared’s thighs to keep him close. At the same time he reached down, catching the hem of Jared’s t-shirt and lifting it, forcing them to separate for a moment as he yanked it off. His hands went straight to Jared’s bare chest, squeezing his pecs before Jared dove in for another kiss.
It was a whirlwind after that. Somehow the two found themselves back on the bed, shirts and jeans discarded around the apartment. Jensen was straddling Jared, grinding their hard cocks together through the thin boxers separating them. His hands were fisted in Jared’s hair, their teeth clicking as they fought for dominance in the kiss.
Jared’s hands were down the back of Jensen’s boxers, kneading his ass as his hips jerked upward. He pulled back and laid flat on the bed, looking up at Jensen with lust blown eyes.
Jensen smirked down at him. “Where’s your lube?”
"Top drawer of the dresser," Jared panted. He tugged off his boxers and tossed them aside when Jensen rose, lazily stroking his cock.
"Jesus... I'm really gonna have to work to take that," Jensen admitted when he turned back around, his eyes on Jared's length.
Jared lifted himself onto his elbows. "I was -- Actually hoping you'd take me. If... I mean we don't have to but I always kinda imagined I'd bottom my first time."
"You want me to take you? Are you sure?" Jensen climbed back onto the bed, kneeling next to Jared.
He nodded, reaching out and dipping his hand into Jensen's boxers. He grabbed his cock lightly and gave it a stroke. "Yeah... As long as you like that."
"I love it, I just normally don't have guys ask."
Jared smiled and pulled his hand out. He spread his thighs and reached down, rubbing his own hole with the tip of his finger. "Well I'm not most guys... And I've been fantasizing your cock inside me since we met."
Jensen's face broke into a grin. He stripped out of his boxers, his own erection bobbing gently at the motion. Crawling between Jared's legs, he pushed his hand out of the way and ran his thumb over the furled entrance. "You have, huh? That what you jerk off to? Me taking your virginity just like this?"
"No... Normally I just finger myself or use toys. I prefer making myself come untouched. Of course my toys aren't
that
big," he added, glancing at Jensen's cock. "I'm sure you'll have me coming in five minutes."
"Do you know how damn sexy that is?" Jensen asked, popping open the lube. He poured some on his fingers and warmed it with a quick rubbing before circling Jared's hole. "Just stay nice and relaxed then. Just like when you do this to yourself."
Jared nodded. He spread his legs a little wider and grabbed the backs of his knees, lifting them to his chest. Jensen shoved a pillow under his hips, giving a small grunt of approval at the view.
"Much better," he murmured before pushing one finger in.
Jared's hole gave to the insertion with some ease, though he was still tight. He closed his eyes, sighing contentedly as Jensen began to thrust, twisting his finger and pressing to force the inner muscles to unclench.
"You can go to two right away," Jared whispered. "That's what I start with every night."
"You come every night thinking about me?" Jensen asked, pressing a second finger in as requested.
Jared grunted, his hips jerking toward Jensen's hand. "Sometimes more often - God - I don't think you realize how much I've thought about this."
Jensen leaned forward, kissing Jared lightly as he worked him open. "Probably just as much as I have. I can't count the number of times I've gotten so hard just picturing you screaming for me while you come. Are you a screamer, Jared?"
Jared's throat clicked as he swallowed. He opened his eyes, gasping when Jensen's fingers bumped his prostate. "Not usually, but I bet you can fix that tonight," he panted.
"Jesus, Jared," Jensen mumbled, lowering his head to Jared's shoulder. "For a virgin, you've got a dirty fucking mouth."
Jared nuzzled against Jensen's cheek, beginning to pump his hips down onto his fingers. "I just know what I want, Jen... And I've never wanted anything more than to get split open on your thick cock, begging for you to fuck me harder while I come all over myself."
Jensen moaned helplessly, his cock jerking hard enough that it bumped Jared's stomach. "Keep talking like that and I won't be able to prep you right."
He chuckled, his chest rumbling. "Better prep me quicker then."
The stretch of Jensen's third finger make Jared cry out, arching his back from the bed. Jensen sat up, pulling his fingers out almost completely before driving in to the final knuckle, over and over.
Jared began to writhe against his hand, reaching down and gripping his own ass, spreading himself open.
"Please!" He finally cried.
"Please what?"
"I'm ready, Jensen. Please, get inside me."
Jensen slowed the movements of his fingers a bit. "Where are your condoms?"
"I want you to go in bare," Jared whispered. He opened his eyes and looked down at Jensen when Jensen stopped moving completely.
"Are you sure? Jared, I'm a hooker."
"And I trust that you'd tell me if you weren't clean. Are you?"
Jensen nodded. "Yeah, Sheppard gets us tested monthly, but - Jay..."
"I trust you. I wanna feel everything, Jensen. In all my fantasies you're coming inside me, filling me up so I always remember who I belong to. Please?"
Biting his lip, Jensen looked down at Jared's ass. The rim was swollen and red, stretched wide around his fingers.
"Okay," he finally said, withdrawing the digits and pouring more lube on his cock. He added a bit extra to Jared's hole and positioned himself between Jared's thighs. The tip of his cock bumped against Jared's ass as he looked up, their gazes meeting.
Jared smiled softly, spreading his ass as much as he could. "I'm ready."
Jensen nodded and looked down as he began to slide his tip past the loosened muscle. He looked up when Jared gasped but kept pushing in, watching his face for any sign of discomfort.
When he'd bottomed out, he leaned over, pressing a kiss to Jared's mouth. "Better than a toy?" He teased.
Jared slapped Jensen's ass lightly, letting his hands rest there while he got used to the feeling.
"Way better... I feel so full and warm, God, Jensen I'm not gonna last long," he admitted, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Jensen kissed each side of Jared's face before brushing their lips together. "Neither am I. Your ass is like a damn vice grip - I've never been inside someone so tight before."
Jared smiled, looking away. "You’ve never taken anyone's virginity before... Come on, I'm ready. Move."
With a nod, Jensen shifted a little and lifted Jared's legs around his hips.
"Just tell me if it hurts," he worried. He braced his hands on either side of Jared's head before pulling out slowly and pushing back in.
The slow drag of Jensen's cock against his inner walls was almost enough to make Jared come right there. He hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't the electric heat, the deep twist in the pit of his stomach that had him arching off the bed, short nails biting into Jensen's back.
Before Jensen could ask if he was okay, Jared ground his hips down, pressing Jensen as deep as he could.
"More, please - I need you to take me," he pleaded.
Jensen's lips curved into a half smile. He lowered himself onto his elbows, letting his forehead rest on Jared's shoulder as he picked up a steady pace; driving as deep as he could before pulling halfway out and driving in again. He could feel Jared's hole clenching around him, dragging him back in, the rim catching on the swollen head of his cock whenever he risked pulling out too far.
Jared couldn't form a coherent thought. His entire body was flushed, desire speeding through his blood. Every time Jensen's cock bumped his prostate he moaned - a rather unmasculine moan, if he'd had to admit it - and his cock would jerk, dribbling more precome between their sweat slicked stomachs. He knew he was leaving welts on Jensen’s ass where he dug his fingers in, urging him forward harder and faster, but couldn’t bring himself to stop.
As it turned out, Jared was a screamer after all. When Jensen’s thrust became erratic, angled perfectly to nudge his prostate each time, Jared fell over the edge, coming hard – untouched – between their stomachs as he screamed Jensen’s name.
Jensen groaned against Jared’s shoulder when Jared came, clenching impossibly tight around him. Once, twice, and he followed Jared over the edge, driving deep one final time. His body went stiff as he came, huffing breathily into Jared’s skin.
Neither man wanted to move when their orgasms had faded. Jared felt boneless, relaxed and content, his fingers tracing nonsense patterns over Jensen’s damp back.
“That was amazing, Jared… You had nothing to be worried about,” Jensen finally whispered, lifting his head.
Jared tilted his head up and pressed a kiss to Jensen’s mouth. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Jared shrugged. “Being patient with me. The amazing orgasm. Being you.”
Jensen smiled, kissing Jared once more. “My pleasure… We should shower before I go back to my apartment.”
“Do you have to?” Jared whined, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Jensen’s middle. Jensen chuckled.
“I do. Sheppard will murder us if I’m not in my apartment tomorrow morning. Plus if Jeffrey stops by – we can’t risk them finding out about us.”
“I know,” Jared mumbled.
Jensen lifted himself up slowly, pulling out of Jared as carefully as he could manage. He stood and helped Jared stand, leading him to the bathroom.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
As the excuses continued to pile up between Jeffrey and Jensen, we found ourselves more at ease in our secret. Of course, more at ease also meant getting a bit lazier about hiding our secret affair. Forgotten locks, sneaking kisses and touches backstage – it was a risk we were willing to take even though the consequences would be dire.
After Jensen took my virginity, our relationship hit a whole new level of intimacy. I knew sex would bring us closer in some ways, but I certainly didn’t expect the need we had for each other. Being without Jensen for more than a few hours was misery.
One afternoon after rehearsal, I pulled Jensen into his private dressing room, kicking the door shut as Jensen jumped up, wrapping his arms and legs around me. I carried him with ease, pressing his back to one of the pillars in the room as I tasted what I’d been missing for hours.
***
The door opened suddenly and Jared jumped backwards. Jensen managed to land on his feet, grabbing his script as Jeffrey entered, looking between the two for a moment. He held up a picnic basket.
“I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me on a picnic, Jensen.”
Jensen laughed, a little out of breath and struggling to hide his erection from Jeffrey. “I would, Jeff – but I have so much work to get done with the script and lines.” He held up the script for emphasis.
Jeffrey scowled a little, eyeing Jared as he approached Jensen and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Well, I don’t see why you two can’t simply work with me around. It’s not like you’ll be spoiling anything – I’ve seen the entire play at this point. Provided your writer is able to carry more than a notebook, he’s welcome to join us.”
Jared’s eyes narrowed at the clear distaste in Jeffrey’s voice when he spoke his vocation. Despite wanting to punch his teeth in, Jared said,
“That sounds lovely.”
Jensen looked over and Jared shrugged. “It’s a bit stuffy in here anyway, some fresh air would do us good. We’ve been spending so much time in the rehearsal hall or one of the backstage rooms running lines – I think a picnic is a great idea.”
Jeffrey grinned over at Jared. “A clever little storyteller you are,” He mocked. He wrapped his arm around Jensen’s waist, nearly dragging him out of the dressing room.
Jared followed when he was sure he wasn’t going to take a swing at the pompous Governor, gripping his pen hard enough that his hand ached.
***
Jeffrey drove them to the Land’s End hiking trail, not bothering to ask either if they minded a hike before the offered picnic. Instead, he began to walk, pointing out various pieces of scenery to Jensen while completely ignoring Jared’s presence.
Regardless of Jeffrey’s attempts, Jensen hung back, walking in pace with Jared. They did work on their lines a bit as they walked – regardless of their relationship they were both quite proud of the play – stopping occasionally to admire the views with Jeffrey.
Jensen grabbed Jared’s wrist, making him fall a little farther behind Jeffrey. “You know, this is technically our first date that isn’t in one of our apartments,” He said softly.
Jared smiled a little. “It is… Too bad we have a third wheel,” He mumbled, glancing at Jeffrey, who was crouched, down, poking at a snake with the end of a stick. Jensen grimaced.
“Don’t hurt him,” He said, letting go of Jared’s wrist when Jeffrey looked up.
“It’s just a snake. What’s it matter?”
Jensen hurried forward and crouched down, carefully picking up the long reptile. He held it carefully so it wouldn’t strike, allowing it to wrap around his arm. “I like snakes. All animals, actually.”
Jeffrey grimaced, watching Jensen play with the snake carefully, allowing it to slither around his arm and hand. “Do you know how unsanitary that is?”
“Snakes aren’t all that bad, actually,” Jared said, stepping a little closer. He circled around Jensen, standing next to Jeffrey. “But they are creepy – I’ll agree with the Governor here.”
Jeffrey smirked over at Jared while Jensen glared playfully at the two of them. “You’re both wimps,” He commented, crouching down to let the snake slither off his arm and into the grass at the side of the path. He rose and hooked one arm in Jeffrey’s elbow, the other in Jared’s. He turned them the correct direction again.
“Come on, I’m starving. How much further is it?”
Jeffrey seemed to stand a few inches taller when Jensen touched him. “Just a half mile or so.”
“Then let’s go.” Jensen let go of both their arms. He crouched down, undoing the laces of his shoes.
“What’re you doing?” Jeffrey asked.
“I prefer being barefooted. Shoes kill me,” Jensen admitted. Jared smiled a little – he’d already known that, and took pride in the fact that Jeffrey didn’t.
“You’re going to catch some disease walking on the trail like that,” Jeffrey warned when Jensen rose, now barefooted. He snorted.
“I will not. Come on.” Jensen walked ahead of them, his sneakers dangling in one hand. Jared couldn’t hide the grin that spread on his face as he watched Jensen walk away, carefree and happy: the way he deserved to feel.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Rehearsal was in full swing, as it had been almost every day that month. With only a few weeks left before the premiere of the play, everyone was beginning to feel the pressure.
Jensen sat with Jeffrey in the rehearsal hall, watching a scene that he wasn’t in. Off to the side, Jared was arguing with Misha about a specific piece of dialogue.
“I’m telling you, Jared – it should be the other way around. Just read it like that with me and tell me you don’t agree.”
“Misha—“
“Please?” Misha poked Jared’s foot with his cane. “A simple reading won’t hurt.”
Jared smiled despite himself, setting aside the scene he was working on and taking the bit of script Misha had rewritten.
“But he’s got the whole world in his hands – why would he love someone like me?” Jared asked, reading from the page.
“The whole world might be open to him, but he doesn’t need it, you foolish musician. He only wants you.”
“But I—“
“Go. Tell him. Before you lose him forever,” Misha paused then grinned, “See? Doesn’t that
read better?”
Jared glared at his friend and rolled his eyes. “I hate you so much.”
“I love you too. I’ll go tell Robbie about the change.” Misha snagged the paper from Jared and rushed off, leaving him chuckling and shaking his head after him.
Jared looked over, watching Jensen laugh at a bit of dialogue being rehearsed on stage. That familiar stutter in his heart picked back up and he smiled; he was so taken by this man…
“Jensen, I hate to interrupt you,” Jared said, approaching Jensen and crouching between Jeffrey and him.
“Not interrupting. What do you need?”
“Well, I was reworking this, um, Will the Lovers be Meeting in the Musician’s Flat scene and I think I’ve finally got it down. I was wondering if you’d like to work on it with me later tonight?”
Jeffrey looked over at Jared then at Jensen. “You can’t.”
“And why can’t I?” Jensen asked, bristling at Jeffrey’s words.
“Because I had supper made for us. A good one, I know you’ll love it. I asked Sheppard what all of your favorite foods are and everything.”
Jensen bit his lip, knowing he was risking a lot if he turned Jeffrey down once again. He looked over at Jared, his heart swelling at those big kaleidoscope eyes.
Jared blinked then and looked down at his notepad. “It’s not a big deal. We can work on tomorrow after rehearsal.”
“No,” Jensen said quickly, reaching out and touching his shoulder. “That scene is one of the most important scenes in the whole play. Isn’t that the one where the lovers confess their undying love to one another? Forever?”
Jared nodded, a small smile curving his lips. “It is.”
“Then I can’t say no. We’ll work on it tonight until I’m satisfied that it’s perfect.” He turned back around to face the stage.
“But, Jensen –“ Jeffrey tried to argue. Jensen turned on him.
“Don’t you want this play to be perfect? I mean, it is your money going into it.”
“I do, but—“
“Then this scene is important. It needs to be done right or the entire play will fall apart.”
“Jensen! Your part is coming up,” Osric called from the stage. Jensen looked to him and waved before turning back to Jeffrey.
“I’ll be right back, Jeff. Thank you,” He placed a chaste kiss on Jeffrey’s cheek before rising and jogging off toward the stage.
Jeffrey turned to Jared, opening his mouth to speak, but Jared smiled sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. They need me for this part.” He rose and followed Jensen to the stage, barely hiding the grin that spread across his face.
Jeffrey found Sheppard standing on the side of the stage, watching the rehearsal.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?” Sheppard asked, distracted by the scene. “Osric! Try that move again, your feet are slipping,” he called.
“Sheppard,” Jeffrey spat, finally getting his full attention.
“Right, the dinner. It’s all prepared to be delivered in Jensen’s room tonight at eight.”
“Eat it yourself. He’s losing interest in me, Sheppard.”
Sheppard’s eyes narrowed. “That’s impossible. Jensen is crazy about you.”
Jeffrey snorted. He crossed his arms, leaning on the wall of the stage. “Clearly not. Look, I get that acting is important to Jensen. He loves it and I know he wants to be some big name actor, but he never takes a break. If he’s not dancing for the club he’s at it with that damn writer. What’s so important about a stupid lover’s scene anyway?”
“A lover’s scene?”
“Yes, the lovers meeting in the apartment or something like that. The writer asked Jensen to work on it with him tonight and he agreed. Even
after
I explained that I had a nice dinner planned for him. Honestly, Sheppard – keep your dog on his leash. If I don’t see him in that apartment tonight, I’m going to pull funding from the show.”
Sheppard glanced up at the balcony, going a little pale before looking back to Jeffrey.
“No. Please, one more chance. I’ll make sure Jensen takes the night off. One night of rest would do him good anyways.”
Jeffrey nodded, satisfied at Sheppard’s answer. “Fine. I’ll see him at eight sharp. I don’t want to be disappointed, Sheppard.”
“I assure you, you won’t be. Excuse me, I need to go find him – discuss his night off.” Sheppard excused himself, slipping off the stage and hurrying to the balcony steps while Jeffrey continued to watch the rehearsal.
***
Jensen laughed quietly, dropping his head onto Jared’s shoulder.
“You need to behave,” He whispered.
“But you make it so
difficult
. You’re too damn sexy,” Jared whined.
Jensen shook his head, still grinning. He took a step back. “You gotta go.”
“Promise me. You’ll be there tonight?”
“I promise,” Jensen said.
“Eight, right?”
“Yes, Jared. Now go or I’ll push you over the railing.”
Jared beamed and pulled Jensen into another kiss. “You’d never. You’d miss me too much.”
“You’re right. Go!”
Jared rushed off, still chuckling.
Jensen turned around, heading toward the stairs.
“You’re out of your mind, Jensen,” Sheppard spat. He stepped out of the shadows, startling Jensen.
“Jesus, Mark. Give a guy a heart attack. I didn’t see you.”
Sheppard stepped up and grabbed Jensen’s biceps, shaking him once for good measure. “Jeffrey has the deed to the Castro, Jenny. He’s spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on you. He’s going to make you into the star you’ve always dreamed of being, and you’re fucking the writer?”
Jensen snorted, trying to pulled out of Sheppard’s grip. “Don’t be crazy, Mark.”
“I saw you two!” Sheppard hissed, his fingers digging into Jensen’s arms until he winced.
“You’re hurting me,” Jensen whispered.
“Not as much as Jeffrey will he finds out. Whatever you and that writer have – it’s over. You’re going to the tower to meet with Jeffrey at eight. As planned.”
“Mark—“
“You will not question me, Jensen. It’s more than your ridiculous infatuation that hangs in the balance. You could ruin everyone that works here. Put them out on the street. Do you want that?”
Jensen looked to the floor, willing back the tears that threatened to burst at Sheppard’s words.
“I understand.”
“You will
not
be late tonight for your dinner.”
“Yes, Mark.”
Sheppard gave him another shake before releasing him, pushing past him and storming down the stairs.
Jensen sucked in a deep breath, feeling the tears begin to fall despite his best attempts to stop them. He couldn’t leave Jared – but he couldn’t risk the lives and homes of every one of his friends either.
As Jensen cried, his chest tightened. He began to cough, trying to catch his breath.
“Jensen?” Osric’s voice echoed up the stairs.
“Up—Here—“ Jensen gasped, leaning on the wall as he tried to breathe.
“Jensen!” Osric rushed up to him, taking his face in his hands. “Talk to me, are you okay?”
“Can’t—“ Jensen’s vision blurred out. The floor rushed up to meet him before he could finish his sentence.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sheppard paced back and forth at Jensen’s bedside. He was still unconscious, his breathing shallow. The doctor sighed, standing up and beginning to pack up his belongings.
“Will he be alright?”
“For now.”
“Will he be up by tonight?”
“No. Tomorrow morning if you’re lucky. I’m sorry,” the doctor smiled sadly at Sheppard, turning and leaving.
Sheppard took a seat next to Jensen’s bedside and reached out, taking his hand.
“I’m so sorry I shouted at you, Jenny. I shouldn’t have. You’re so important to me, I—Please be alright,” He whispered to the sleeping man.
When eight rolled around, Genevieve, one of Jensen’s fellow dancers, slipped as quietly as she could into Jensen’s room.
“Mark?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Mr. Morgan is getting impatient. He’s going to leave if Jensen doesn’t show up in a few minutes.”
Sheppard nodded. “Thank you, Gen.”
“How is he?”
“He’ll be alright. Just overworking himself. I’ll take care of Mr. Morgan. Would you watch over him? Call me immediately if he wakes?”
“Of course.”
Sheppard smiled and patted her shoulder before walking out and up the stairs to Jensen’s apartment where the dinner was set up. He knocked before slipping in, smiling weakly at Jeffrey.
“Where is he?”
“I—“
“Sheppard, don’t play me for a fool. Where is Jensen?”
“He’s—I mean, he—“
“I’m leaving.” Jeffrey pushed past Sheppard, headed for the door.
“He’s in confession! In church!” Sheppard cried.
“In church? Come on, Sheppard. Even you can do better than that,” Jeffrey spat.
“No, I’m being completely serious. Before he became an escort, Jensen was a very devout Catholic. I was helping him get ready for dinner and he just broke down in the dressing room. He began to cry, asking me why he deserved someone as perfect as you.”
Jeffrey smirked a little, his stance relaxing.
“I told him that he was beautiful and smart and you were lucky to have him – all things I’m sure you’d say – but he was overcome with this feeling that he was unworthy of you.”
“Unworthy?”
“His… Former life. As an escort. He’s ashamed to even be around you, Sir. Because he knows you’re so much better than him in that way. It’s why he’s been working so hard and avoiding being alone with you, you see? He’s afraid you’re going to see him as nothing more than a whore.”
Jeffrey turned to face Sheppard completely now, crossing his arms. “So he, what? Went to confession?”
“Yes! To beg forgiveness for his past. He wants to be free of it the night that you two finally consummate your love for one another. He thinks of that night – tonight, as it was going to be – almost like a wedding night.”
An eerie smile spread across Jeffrey’s face. “A wedding night, huh? Jensen wants to marry me?”
“Of course! He’s head over heels for you, Sir. You have no idea. But you see, he—You make him feel so special and clean. He doesn’t want to disappoint, and he’s terribly afraid that he will.”
Jeffrey scowled a bit and nodded. “So will he be finished tonight?”
Sheppard chuckled. “Considering he’s been an escort for years with me, and God knows what he’s done before that… I doubt it.”
Jeffrey’s mouth pursed in thought. He walked over to Sheppard, clapping his hands down on his shoulders. “Thank you for telling me the truth, Sheppard. I know it must have been embarrassing for you to admit.”
“On the contrary. I’m quite proud of Jensen. Wanting to make a change in his life like this.”
“Well, either way. I’m going to go home for the night. I’ll see Jensen tomorrow at rehearsal, okay? Let him know I missed him this evening.”
Sheppard nodded. “Of course.”
Jeffrey turned to go. When he reached the door, he opened it a bit then stopped, turning back to Sheppard for a moment. “Oh, and Sheppard? If I find out you’ve been lying to me… I will kill you myself.”
He grinned then. “Goodnight,” He called as he walked out, slamming the door behind him.
***
Sheppard had managed to avert disaster with Jeffrey, much to everyone’s relief. But no tale, however clever or off the wall, could save the disaster looming over Jensen’s beautiful head.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sheppard paced back and forth in front of Jensen’s bed. He was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The doctor was leaned over him, checking blood pressure and other vitals as carefully as he could so as not to disturb him.
Kim was on Jensen’s other side, holding his hand and stroking his arm. Her head was down; it looked like she was praying.
“Please, Doctor. Have the tests come back? What’s been going on with him? I know it’s not just the costumes like he used to say. He’s been so healthy,” Sheppard asked.
The doctor looked up and smiled sadly. “Yes, Mr. Sheppard. I had suspicions, so last time he passed out, I took a small biopsy. I got the test results in today. The news isn’t good.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Kim asked, rising and going to Sheppard, facing the doctor.
He rose and dug in his bag for a thin envelope. He passed it over to Sheppard, who ripped it open and took out the sheet of paper. He looked it over quickly, shaking his head.
“What does this all mean?”
“It means he’s got cancer, Mr. Sheppard. Pancreatic.”
Kim made a small, distressed noise, covering her mouth.
“No, he’s so young and he—“
“It does occur more frequently in older men and women, but he mentioned his mother had cancer. I did some research and hers was pancreatic as well, genetics do play a part. I’m so sorry, Mr. Sheppard, Ms. Rhodes.”
“Chemo. Or surgery or something – there has to be something we can do,” She pleaded, her eyes welling with tears.
The doctor looked down at Jensen’s sleeping form. “No. I mean, we could try – but it’s late stages. There’s a very low chance that it would serve to do anything but make him miserable in his final months.”
“How long does he have?” Sheppard whispered.
The doctor shrugged. “I hate to put a time limit on it. I’d give a normal person six months at the stage he’s at. But Jensen works himself to the bone. He’s underweight already and beginning to show signs of jaundice. If he doesn’t slow down he’ll die in a much shorter time frame. His body can’t take the work he does.”
Sheppard’s chin shook. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to remain calm. He couldn’t afford to break down. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“I can stay until he wakes and discuss this with him, let him make his decision, if you’d like.”
“No.” Sheppard shook his head, ignoring Kim’s wide eyed look. He looked over at her and squeezed her shoulder before looking back at the doctor.
“We’ll tell him ourselves. If he has any questions, we’ll have him call you. He won’t take this news well, will need some time to process it.”
“Of course. Here,” The doctor pulled a bottle of pills out of his bag and passed them to Kim. “These are for the pain. Call if you need anything else.”
“Of course, thank you Doctor,” Sheppard said softly. He watched the doctor walk out before turning to Kim and setting his hands on her shoulders.
“He’s going to be heartbroken,” She whispered.
“I know. Which is why we can’t tell him.”
“What? Mark, this isn’t the flu – he can’t just fight through this. He’s
dying
.”
“I know that, Kim. But if he finds out, he’ll spend his final months depressed, angry at the world – hating life. You know how Jensen is. You know much he wants to become a star; how
happy
this play has made him. We can’t let him find out.”
Kim looked over at Jensen’s sleeping form, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I can’t believe it… He’s got such a bright future, I—“
“I know.” Sheppard brushed away her tear and turned her head towards him again. “But he cannot know. The show must go on.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
All night I stayed up, waiting for Jensen. It passed eight, nine, midnight – and still he didn’t come. I had always prided myself on being a level-headed man, but I was beginning to feel a stab of jealousy. Had he chosen Jeffrey? And why wouldn’t he – Jeffrey could offer him everything – anything he could want in this life. Why would a man as beautiful and talented as Jensen choose someone like me? A poor, pathetic writer with barely a penny to his name and roof over his head. The knowledge made me sick. So I did what I do best. I wrote. I poured my heart into the play, my one happy refuge. In the play, we would end up happy, even if we couldn’t in real life. I was still typing when the knock sounded on my door.
***
“It’s open,” Jared called without looking up from his computer. He assumed it was Misha or possibly Rich – he’d been eager to work on the music a bit more. When the door opened but no one entered, Jared glanced up.
Jensen was standing in the doorway. He looked pale and tired, dark circles under his glazed eyes. Jared saved his document and rose slowly, approaching Jensen.
“Late night?”
“Oh, Jared—“ Jensen fell into his arms, hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come. I was sick.”
“Sick? Jensen, you’re as healthy as a horse,” Jared said softly, but stroked his fingers through Jensen’s hair. He pushed the door shut and led him to the bed.
“I mean it. I wanted to come – I was going to, I just—I passed out again, I didn’t wake up until a few minutes ago. I rushed right over here as soon as I did.”
Jared nodded, running his thumb over Jensen’s cheek. “You need more sun, those terrible lights in the theatre are making you jaundiced,” He teased, thumbing Jensen’s nose.
Jensen smiled, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on Jared’s mouth.
“Did you write anything good while you waited? I know you probably didn’t sleep.”
“I didn’t. I wrote a bit, here, I’ll read it to you.” He rose and kissed Jensen’s head before sitting back down at the computer and scrolling through his notes.
He began to read, glancing back at Jensen for a reaction every little bit.
Jensen was stretched out on the bed, his head propped up by the pillows. He looked exhausted, but was listening intently, a small smile on his full lips.
“I—“ Jared turned back to the computer, chuckling a little.
“What? I like it,” Jensen said softly, crawling toward the end of the bed.
“I know. You’re just… Really handsome sometimes. All the time, but—Sometimes it hits me
just
how amazing you are. How you’re worth so much more than someone like me.”
“What are you talking about, Jared?” Jensen asked. There was a hint of concern lacing his tone.
“I just—“ Jared sighed heavily. He looked over at Jensen, his expression grim.
“Where were you last night? Really.”
Jensen frowned, sitting back on the bed. “I told you. I was sick. You can ask Kim. Or Osric.”
Jared rose, sitting next to him on the bed. He reached out and touched Jensen’s hand, smiling softly.
“You don’t have to lie to me, Jen. I understand.”
Jensen turned away from Jared, shying away from his touch. “Jared. We have to end this.”
“What? No we don’t. Jen—“
“Mark knows, Jared. He saw us. Jeffrey will find out soon, and that will
ruin
everything.”
Jared felt his stomach drop like a stone when Jensen rose, wandering to the balcony doorway. “On opening night, I have to sleep with Jeff – there’s no way around it. And I know you. You can’t handle it. The jealousy will make you crazy and you’ll do something we’ll both regret.”
“I won’t,” Jared cried, rising. He went to Jensen and grabbed his shoulders, turning him. Jensen smiled sadly, reaching up and stroking Jared’s cheek.
“Jared—“
“No. I won’t be jealous. I’ll… I’ll write a song,” he said. “I’ll write a song and we’ll put in the play, a secret just between us. Whenever things get bad or we get scared or jealous, all we have to do is think of the song and we’ll know that what we have is real and it’ll be okay. Please, Jensen—I can’t lose you.”
Jensen pulled away from Jared, opening the doors and stepping onto the balcony.
“Life doesn’t work like a play, Jared. This has to end.”
Jared’s shoulders slumped, his eyes darting back and forth as he struggled to think quickly.
“Never knew I could feel like this...”
Jensen turned back to him slowly, his expression sad.
“Jay—“
Jared shook his head, stepping up to Jensen. He continued to sing,
“Like I’ve never seen the sky before. Wanna vanish inside your kiss, every day I love you more and more…”
“Jared, please.”
“
Listen to my heart! Can you hear it sing? Telling me to give you everything… Seasons may change, winter to spring…”
He stepped up to Jensen and took his hands, pulling him close.
“But I love you, until the end of time.”
Jensen’s eyes welled with tears. He leaned into Jared’s chest, feeling it rumble and vibrate as Jared continued to sing, wrapping his big arms around Jensen’s shoulders.
“Come what may, come what may, I will love you until my dying day…”
Jensen looked up at Jared and nodded. “Okay. We’ll try it.”
“Promise?”
“Only if you promise not to get jealous,” Jensen whispered, his mouth curling into a teasing smile.
“I promise to try my hardest. I’ll start adding the song right now, okay?”
Jensen shook his head, biting his lip. “No. I have something else you should do first.”
Jared cocked his head, his forehead wrinkling a little in confusion.
“And what’s that?”
Jensen smirked, grabbing Jared’s hand. He slid it down to his crotch, his cock hard in his jeans. “Take care of this for me?”
Jared groaned softly, his eyes slipping shut for a second.
“I think I can oblige the star of the show.” He picked Jensen up easily and carried him back into the apartment. Jensen laughed as Jared threw him onto the bed and crawled over him.
“You know I get nothing done when you look at me like that,” Jared muttered. Jensen continued to stare up at him, his tongue visible between his teeth as he grinned.
“Look like what?” He asked, feigning innocence even as his tongue slid further out of his mouth, swiping across his bottom lip.
“
That
,” Jared growled, leaning down. He kissed him hard, shifting enough to suck Jensen’s bottom lip into his mouth and bite down. He smirked at the whimper it earned him.
“How do you want it?”
“Mm… Will you ride me?”
Jared grinned. “Gladly.” He crawled off Jensen and began to strip, gasping when Jensen’s teeth connected with his bared stomach.
“Well, hey there,” He whispered, looking down. He ran his fingers through Jensen’s hair as he nibbled up Jared’s stomach, pausing to bite his nipple with some force.
Jared grunted, his cock hardening further in the confines of his jeans. “Tease,” He hissed.
“I’d only be a tease if I wasn’t giving you what you wanted,” Jensen said, stripping out of his own clothes.
“You know when you tease me like this I never last as long,” Jared argued, leaning down and biting Jensen’s hip when he shoved his own jeans off.
Jensen swatted his head, laughing a little. “You always make me come – that’s more than long enough.”
“Let’s see if I can do it again,” Jared said. He grabbed the lube and jumped onto the bed, pinning Jensen down with a hard kiss.
Jensen squeaked, wrapping his arms around Jared’s broad shoulders.
Jared backed up and turned around so his ass was facing Jensen. He poured lube on his fingers and began to stretch himself, groaning and grinding back to make a show of it for Jensen.
“Jesus, baby – Wouldn’t have believed a few months ago you were a shy little virgin,” Jensen teased, sitting up and slapping Jared’s ass. He groaned, grinding back onto his fingers.
“I only act this way for you.”
“I know. I love it,” Jensen whispered. He leaned down, biting Jared’s ass before crawling around him, running his fingers through Jared’s shaggy hair.
Their eyes met for a moment before Jared opened his mouth, tongue sliding out to lick up the silken underside of Jensen’s cock.
“You wanna?” Jensen asked. Jared smirked and nodded, holding his mouth open a little further for Jensen to slide his cock in.
Jared swallowed, gagging a little. Refusing to let it stop him, he began to rock forward onto Jensen’s cock then back onto his fingers, moaning loudly.
Jensen’s head fell backwards, a groan rumbling up from his chest. He buried his fingers in Jared’s hair, giving gentle tugs of encouragement as Jared struggled to take more of his cock into his throat.
When Jared had four fingers stretching himself out, he pulled back, sucking in a much-needed breath of air through his wet, swollen lips. “Lie down.”
Jensen flopped back on the bed, stroking his spit slick cock lazily. “Gonna ride me now, Jay?”
Jared climbed onto his lap and kissed him hard, reaching back to slick Jensen up before settling over him.
He leaned over and nipped Jensen’s earlobe before pushing down, his body clenching hard enough to make Jensen cry out.
Jensen grabbed Jared’s ass, digging his short nails in as Jared began to ride him immediately, whimpering softly in his ear.
Jensen grunted, bucking his hips up in time with Jared's thrusts.
"How the fuck do you stay so tight?" He panted. Jared practically giggled, grinding down against Jensen.
"Since you took my v--virginity, I refuse to put anything inside my ass unless I'm getting ready for you."
Jensen huffed against Jared's shoulder, swatting his ass again. "You're perfect."
Jared pulled off Jensen cock, earning a whimper. "Wha--"
"Shh." Jared turned and arched his back, settling over Jensen's cock. He looked back and smirked before reaching down and spreading himself open. His swollen entrance flexed, a little lube dribbling onto Jensen's cock.
"I know you said you liked watching how I stretch... Now you can see perfect."
Jensen's throat clicked as he swallowed, reaching out and brushing his thumb over the soft, reddened rim. He pressed it in, sighing out a moan when Jared clenched around him.
"Cock feels better, I'm sure," Jared panted.
"Oh it does. All in good time, Jay."
Jared whined, pushing his ass forward a little more.
"Please?"
"Begging now?" Jensen joked. He withdrew his thumb and lined his cock up with Jared's hole, nudging against it for a second before Jared lifted himself up.
He began to sink onto Jensen's cock at a teasingly slow pace, allowing Jensen to watch his rim stretch wide, taking in the mushroom shaped tip. He kept his hands on his ass, spreading himself open all the way down, and as he raised himself up, just as slow. Jensen groaned, watching Jared's hole twitch and pull as his cock was slid out. Jared leaned down as soon as he was free, giving Jensen a view of his relaxed, stretched hole.
"Always stretch me out so wide, Jen. Look at how empty I am," Jared panted.
Jensen sat up quickly, shifting just enough to bring his face down. He slipped his pointer fingers into Jared and stretched him wider, driving his tongue in as far as he could reach.
Jared shouted into the mattress, fisting the sheets as Jensen ate him out. The relaxed rings of muscle twitched and throbbed as Jensen forced him open, ignoring the bitter lube in favor of the subtle taste that was uniquely Jared.
Jared sobbed brokenly when Jensen stiffened his tongue and began to drive it in, swirling it around Jared's inner walls. He rutted back helplessly, his balls drawing tight to his body.
"Jensen,
please
! You're gonna make me come!"
Jensen pulled back, still holding him open with his fingers.
"Really? Gonna come just from my mouth? Do it."
"I want you to finish inside me," Jared worried.
Jensen went forward, letting his teeth graze the shiny skin, pulled taut around Jared's hole.
"I wouldn't think of coming anywhere else. I promise. Come for me, Jay."
Jared swallowed hard and nodded, trying to will his body to relax. Jensen admired the situation for a moment; Jared was so pink and perfect; and it was all his. He drove his tongue back in, fucking it into Jared while he bit and sucked at the outer muscle.
Jared gave in, screaming Jensen's name as he came untouched, spurting onto the sheet between his thighs.
Jensen pulled back and dragged Jared onto his lap again, ramming deep while Jared was still coming.
"Ride me, Jared. Come on, start moving," Jensen instructed, lying back.
Jared sobbed, doing as Jensen asked. His legs shook as he lifted himself up and dropped back down, his cock dribbling weakly every time his prostate was nudged.
Jensen groaned, admiring Jared's ass. The forced opening had swollen him further, making him even tighter around Jensen's cock. He could feel Jared's channel throbbing, definitely oversensitive, and it dragged him closer to orgasm. He grabbed Jared's hips and began to bring him down faster, chasing his own release.
Two, three rough thrusts and Jensen fell over the edge. He released Jared's hips as he came, his body shaking and twitching as Jared continued to ride him through his orgasm.
Jensen grabbed him after a few minutes, his hands shaking. "Stop-- Stop it hurts."
"Sorry," Jared panted.
"Don't be... Do you have our camera nearby?"
"Mm-- in the top drawer of the nightstand."
Jensen leaned over and snagged it, carefully pushing Jared up just a bit. He snapped a photo of his cock, come dribbling down where he was still inside Jared. "Perfect. Can you pull off?"
"Yeah." Jensen set the camera aside and helped Jared slide off his lap, snuggling down next to him. They shared a lazy kiss before he grabbed the camera again, snapping a few photos of their exhausted, content faces.
Jared groaned, nuzzling against Jensen’s shoulder. “I should write.”
“Do you have to?”
“Yeah… Gotta add in our song. Can you stay much longer?”
Jensen lifted himself up on his elbow, looking down at Jared. He smiled softly, stroking back Jared’s sweaty bangs.
“Yeah, I can stay tonight. Because I was sick last night, Mark said I could relax. He’s not going to come get me early tomorrow.”
“You can stay?” Jared perked up instantly.
“Yeah. We’ll go to rehearsal together with Misha and the others – tell Mark that I went to Misha’s flat early to practice that new scene with Robbie.”
“You’re perfect,” Jared said, kissing Jensen hard.
He laughed a little. “I’m also a mess… Do you think the talented young writer could spare ten minutes to shower with his lead actor?”
“I think I can spare fifteen.”
They got up from the bed and walked toward the bathroom, laughing like children as their hands roamed over every inch of skin the other could touch, forgetting, at least momentarily, about the cruel world around them.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The world, cruel or kind, didn’t matter. Not when I had a beautiful man like Jensen to love me. We had no problem continuing our trysts right under the nose of Sheppard and Jeffrey. Misha knew, of course, as did Robbie and Rich and Jim – they were proud that we’d found love even when all the odds were against us.
It was five days before the opening of our show. Everyone was rushing around to finish things up. Jeffrey was an ever-present face at rehearsals – an annoying fly that wouldn’t leave my ear no matter how many times I swatted at it.
Jensen was in good spirits at least, though I had begun to notice a weakness about him. He looked so tired now. I assumed it was all the work we’ve done on the play, but he assured me he was alright. And who was I to argue? Lover or not – Jensen was a grown man – he knew his limits better than I ever could.
***
“Alright, so then the magical guitar falls down and shouts, ‘The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return’. Alright, Misha?”
“Got it!” Misha called from the rafters as Osric strapped him into the safety harness. He balanced for a moment, grimacing.
“Just so you know, Jared – I
hate
heights.”
“You wanted to be the guitar,” Jared responded through a laugh.
Jensen was sitting on the edge of the stage and looked up when Jared laughed, a smile brightening his face instantly. Their eyes met and Jared smiled softly, biting his lip before looking down at the papers in his hand.
“Okay, go Misha.”
Jeffrey shifted in his seat, watching the action on stage with rapt attention. He was really enjoying this play, much to his surprise. It was silly – it’s not like a courtesan would
ever
choose a poor man to be his husband – but that’s what made it endearing. A child’s fantasy. And of course, Jensen was stunning on stage. His voice echoed through the rafters as he sang the love songs Jeffrey knew were meant for him. That same voice haunted his dreams, a melody of some sweet fruit he would soon taste.
Jensen had been right when they first met; some things are worth waiting for. He was getting impatient, but he knew it would all be worth it when he took Jensen opening night and saved him from this dirty theatre life. Of course, Jensen wanted to act. Jeffrey had decided a while ago that he would humor him, let him pursue a few films and television shows. But that would have to come to an end relatively quickly. Jensen was young and beautiful – he wasn’t going to waste his life on movie sets and theatre stages when he could be with Jeffrey, travelling the world and getting used to splendor.
Genevieve, one of the dancers that worked alongside Jensen at the club and on stage, slipping into the chair next to Jeffrey. He glanced over at her, but turned back to the stage as Misha took his fall, hanging onto the rope that had been stretched out for him.
“You know they didn’t have many male courtesans back then,” Genevieve complained.
“I know, but it’s not a very realistic play anyway – using a male courtesan allows for some fantasy. Plus, considering the nature of most of the audience that the play will get, it makes sense to appeal to their tastes as well. Jensen is a beautiful specimen for the star.”
“Yeah, I suppose so. I just know I could’ve done a good job up there too. Some of those songs would sound much better with male and female parts, no matter how high Jenny can get his voice.”
Jeffrey smirked a little, glancing over at the dancer. “Well I think you play your part wonderfully, dear.”
She snorted. “I’m a backup dancer. Same as in the club. No one even knows my name.”
Jeffrey ignored her whining, leaning forward a little as the new addition to the play – the lover’s song – started.
Robbie circled around Jensen, glaring at Sheppard before he began with the voices of the other actors,
“Come what may, come what may,”
Jensen jumped in, standing and wrapping her arms around Robbie as they sang together,
“Yes, I will love you…”
The chorus went on with Robbie and Jensen, the song sounding beautiful even in the short time the group had been rehearsing it.
Sheppard stepped to the side, fake crying until he reached the edge of the stage, where he stood next to Jared, speaking quietly.
“This ending is stupid too, you know?” Genevieve continued, testing Jeffrey’s patience.
“Why do you say that?” He muttered, his teeth gritted.
“Well, I mean why would the courtesan ever go for the penniless writer?”
Jeffrey’s head snapped over, his brows furrowing. Genevieve gasped, clapping her hand over her mouth. She dropped it just as quickly, smirking.
“I mean…
Musician
.” She looked back onto the stage, staring pointedly at Jared, before rising and wandering toward the back of the theater.
Jeffrey turned again, his eyes falling on Jared.
On stage, Jared had begun singing along with Robbie’s parts, helping him hit the notes he needed to. His eyes were on Jensen, who was grinning at him as they sang, nothing else mattering in the world.
“For I will love you… Until my dying day!”
The room was silent for a moment when the song ended, everyone catching their breath and gauging their own levels of success.
“I don’t like this ending,” Jeffrey said, his voice booming through the hall.
Everyone turned to him, shocked at his input. Up until now, Jeffrey had been eager to see changes to the play and encouraged the creativity of the writer and actors.
“Why don’t you like the ending, Mr. Morgan?” Sheppard asked, stepping forward to try and calm their investor before something blew up.
Jeffrey rose, approaching the stage as he spoke,
“It’s ridiculous. Why would the courtesan choose some poor musician anyway? The Duke is offering him a lifetime of security. Money, power, fame – it would ridiculous to throw that away when
that
is clearly real love. I mean, it’s clear that once the musician gets bored with the courtesan he’ll just throw him away like garbage and then where will he be? Back at square one with nothing to his name.”
Misha waved his hands, fighting with the harness before stepping forward.
“No, Mr. Morgan – Sir – That’s the whole point of the play. That the musician really
is
in love with the courtesan, regardless of his past. And they don’t care about money. It’s about freedom and love, and –“
“I don’t give a shit about the stupid dogma that you pissants prescribe to! Why shouldn’t the courtesan choose the Duke!” Jeffrey snapped, startling Misha.
“Because he doesn’t love you!” Jared roared, stunning the entire troupe. Jared never raised his voice. He realized what he said, his face reddening.
“H—Him. He doesn’t love the Duke,” He whispered. Everyone was staring – he knew he’d screwed up everything in one sentence.
Jeffrey snorted, glaring over at Jared. “I see. No. It won’t do. You’re going to rewrite the ending
now
. It will end with the courtesan choosing the Duke. And
without
that ridiculous secret song. You’ll rewrite it tonight and rehearse it tomorrow morning. It’ll be ready in time for opening night this week.”
Sheppard shook his head. “That’s impossible, Mr. Morgan. We need
time
. That gives us only five days to learn the new ending and—”
“
Make
it work!” Jeffrey snapped.
Jensen slipped off the stage, knowing he had to do something to make this right before everything blew up.
“Mark! Jeffrey is being treated terribly. He doesn’t like the ending and he has every right not to – he’s the one funding our little production after all.”
He turned to Jeffrey and placed his hands on his shoulders, smiling sweetly.
“You know how writers can be. They let their imaginations run away with them while they’re working on these fantasy stories. Why don’t you and I have some dinner tonight, okay? Let the writer rewrite an ending, and we can discuss if we’d like to keep the old one or the new one afterwards, okay? We’ll let Mark know before we go to bed.”
Jeffrey pursed his lips, searching Jensen’s eyes for any hint of a lie. Satisfied, he smiled and nodded. “I’d be okay with that.”
Jensen beamed and leaned forward, pecking his cheek. “Let me go get changed and I’ll meet you outside, okay? We can take dinner on the roof of the apartment.”
Jeffrey nodded once more, allowing Jensen to climb back onto the stage and disappear before walking out.
Jared hung his head, packing up his belongings after Jeffrey walked out. Robbie stepped up to him and squeezed his shoulder.
“You didn’t mean to slip.”
“I still did. I ruined everything,” He whispered. He shrugged Robbie’s hand off his shoulder and slung his bag over his back before ducking backstage to search for Jensen.
***
Jensen was sitting in his dressing room, taking the makeup off his face when Jared walked in, close to tears. Their eyes met in the mirror as Jared shut the door.
“I don’t want you to sleep with him,” He admitted in a rasping whisper.
Jensen sighed, setting the cloth down and rising. He closed the distance between them and put his hands on Jared’s cheeks, rubbing his thumbs along his cheekbones.
“Jared, he could ruin everything we’ve worked for. This is
for
us.”
Jared shook his head, blinking quickly.
“Stop that,” Jensen scolded lightly, “you promised you wouldn’t get jealous over this.”
“I can’t help it. He’s a monster.”
“It’ll be alright, Jared. This is my
job
.”
Jared shook his head again, a tear slipping down his cheek. Jensen wiped it off.
“Yes, it will. I have to go now, he’s waiting for me. And you don’t want him to find us like this.”
“No, please don’t…”
Jensen sighed sadly. He pulled Jared into a tight hug, nuzzling their cheeks together. He could feel Jared crying as he stroked his fingers through Jared’s shaggy locks.
“Come what may..”
Jensen sang softly. Jared’s body relaxed for a moment before he pulled back, looking at Jensen.
“Come what may,” Jared whispered in a spoken voice. He smiled weakly, his eyes still wet with tears, and leaned forward, brushing his lips against Jensen’s. Before he could find another reason to stay, he turned and left the dressing room.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Jensen slipped into the apartment as quietly as he could. He forced a smile to grace his lips when he found Jeffery already sitting at the small table, a neat dinner laid out.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, Jeffrey. Getting dressed took longer than I had imagined.”
“Not at all, Jensen. Sit. We have a lot to discuss.”
Jensen bit his lip and wandered over to the coat rack, slipping his jacket off to reveal a clean pressed black button up shirt. A light blue scarf was wrapped loosely around his pale throat, his jeans crisp and clean. When he toed out of his shoes, Jeffrey scoffed.
“Why must you always remove your shoes like some savage? And why do you never wear socks?”
Jensen shrugged, clasping his hands in front of his stomach. “It’s more comfortable.”
“It makes you look like one of those street urchins you work with.” Jeffrey rose and walked over to Jensen, ignoring the fact that he turned quickly to stare out at the darkened sky.
“I am one of them, Jeffrey.”
“You’re not,” Jeffrey whispered, setting his hands on Jensen’s shoulders. He began to kiss over his neck and up to his ear, taking it between his teeth and biting gently.
“You are so much better. Destined for so much more. If you’ll be honest with me.”
Jensen shut his eyes, biting back the grimace that threatened his features. “About what?” He whispered, shivering. Jeffrey’s lips were hot and chapped, rough on his skin – nothing like Jared’s.
“The writer.”
Jensen scoffed, his stomach doing a little flip at the mention of Jared. “He’s got a silly fascination with me is all. He’s young and thinks everything is about love and romance. I indulge him – he’s talented and we need him. But it means nothing, Jeffrey. I’m yours.”
“I don’t like it, Jensen. He’s
obsessed
.”
“As are you. And half of San Francisco. It’s a part of my charm, Jeffrey. You must understand. We only need him for the remainder of the week. Once the play opens – he’ll be history and we’ll move on with our own lives.”
Jensen steeled himself as he spoke and turned around, wrapping his arms around Jeffrey’s neck and offering a seductive smile.
Jeffrey scowled a little but Jensen smiled wider, running his fingers through Jeffrey’s short hair before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his mouth.
“I promise,” He whispered.
Jeffrey’s shoulders relaxed a little. He nodded and ran his thumb over Jensen’s cheekbone. “Let’s have dinner.”
“In a moment. I’ve been stuck in that stuffy theatre all day; can we sit on the balcony?” Jensen asked.
Jeffrey nodded, swinging his arm out and gesturing to the door. “Anything you’d like.”
Jensen walked out, leaning over the railing and breathing in the night air.
“I will take you from here, Jensen,” Jeffrey murmured into his ear, his arms wrapped possessively around Jensen’s chest. “You’ll no longer be a whore. I’ll make you an actor. I’ll make you famous, just like you always wanted.”
“And… The ending?” Jensen whispered, biting his lip.
Jeffrey sighed, nuzzling against Jensen’s neck. “Let Sheppard and the silly writer keep their fantasy ending. I know you’re mine.”
He continued to kiss and bite down Jensen’s neck and shoulder as Jensen gazed out over the city. His eyes lowered to the street, heart skipping a beat when he saw Jared. His shoulders were hunched, hair hanging in his face as he walked to his apartment building.
“Come what may… I will love you, until my dying day…”
Jensen whispered.
Jared looked up, their eyes meeting in the low light. He grimaced and turned away, rushing toward his apartment complex.
“No—“
“No?” Jeffrey looked up, spotting Jared as he disappeared into the building. “Well, if it isn’t our own penniless musician.”
Jensen pulled out of Jeffrey’s tight grip, heading for the door. “I’m sorry, Jeffrey, I—“
He cried out in surprise when Jeffrey grabbed his wrist, twisting it back until he dropped to his knees.
“Shut up!” Jeffrey yanked him forward, ignoring his cry of pain. “You made me think you loved me.”
“No, I—“
“Shut up!” Jeffrey snarled again, shoving Jensen to the floor.
The side of his head smacked against the concrete, bringing tears to his eyes. He scrambled up, rushing away from Jeffrey as quickly as he could in the small space. Jeffrey put up a chase, grabbing the small table when Jensen darted to the other side. He flipped it, food, plates, and the candles scattering throughout the room.
Jensen cried out, going for the door. Jeffrey grabbed his scarf, twisting it in his fist and slamming Jensen forward. His face smashed off the wood, rocking the door in its frame. A hot gush of blood spilled from his nose, filling his open mouth with the bitter copper taste. Jensen shouted again, bringing his hands up to fight Jeffrey off. The scarf tightened around his throat and Jeffrey dragged him backwards, ignoring his clawing fingers. He threw Jensen onto the bed and crawled over him, pinning him down.
Tears blurred Jensen’s vision, his head and nose throbbing. He continued to fight, grimacing as Jeffrey batted away every attempt he made.
“No, please—“
“You’re a whore. You don’t get to say no,” he snarled. He pinned Jensen’s hands and yanked on the scarf, the delicate fabric tearing easily. Despite Jensen’s pleas, he wound the scarf around his wrists, tying them together tight enough to hurt.
Holding his wrists with one hand, Jeffrey used his other to undo his jeans. Jensen screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out what he knew was coming. It wasn’t anything new – not really. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be happy – he was supposed to be curled up in bed with Jared laughing about the play or sitting on Misha’s couch watching some cheesy movie. Not here. Not tied like a pig for the slaughter.
Suddenly, he heard a clatter and a shout, and Jeffrey’s weight was gone from his hips. Opening his eyes, Jensen gasped. Osric was drawing back, bringing his palm forward into Jeffrey’s face. Jeffrey collapsed, holding his bleeding nose long enough for Osric to grab one of the heavy serving bowls from the floor. He shattered it on Jeffrey’s head, rendering him unconscious.
“Are you alright?”
Jensen closed his eyes again, shaking his head. Osric rushed up to him, undoing the ties on his wrist and using the fabric to wipe the blood from his nose.
“How’d you—“
“I was coming up to say goodnight to you and heard you shout. It took me a second to get in. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
Jensen smiled through his tears and fell into Osric’s arms, hugging him tightly.
“Come on, let’s get you to Jared’s,” Osric whispered, stroking Jensen’s hair back. He helped him stand and guided him out of the room, glancing back at Jeffrey’s unconscious form worriedly.
***
Jared was leaning out his window when his door burst open, startling him. He whipped around, his eyes bulging when he saw Osric and then Jensen, dried blood under his nose and tear tracks on his cheeks.
“What happened?” He asked, rushing up to Jensen.
“Jeffrey,” Osric said softly.
Jensen allowed himself to be pulled into Jared’s arms.
“He did this?”
“I knocked him out. I—I don’t know what happened.”
Jensen looked up at Jared. “I couldn’t go through with it. I saw you walking back to the apartment and I just—Jeffrey saw and he got so mad. I—“
“Shh—It’s okay, Jen,” Jared whispered.
“I love you, Jared. I can’t pretend anymore. I don’t wanna live like this but he
knows
. He saw you and my reaction—“
Jared shook his head. “It’s going to be okay, Jensen. We’re done with this. He went too far. We’ll leave tonight.”
“Leave?” Jensen shook his head. “But the play—“
“Fuck the play. Jensen, he could’ve killed you. I don’t care about the play or about fame or power. I care about you and I won’t let you get hurt again. Will you leave with me?”
Jensen smiled softly, reaching up and stroking Jared’s cheek. “Really?”
“Really. Go on. Pack up what you can and we’ll go. We’ll have Misha bring us to the bus station. Anywhere you want to visit.”
Jensen’s grin grew wider despite the pain in his nose. “I love you, Jared.”
“I love you too,” He looked to Osric. “Go with him. Make sure no one sees you guys, okay?”
Osric nodded. “I got it. We’ll be back soon.”
Jared pressed a deep kiss to Jensen’s mouth before stepping back, allowing Osric to guide him out of the apartment.
As soon as they were gone Jared turned, dragging his duffel bag out of the closet to begin packing.
***
Osric stood in the doorway of Jensen’s apartment, watching for anyone that might be coming. When they’d returned, the door was ajar, Jeffrey nowhere to be found.
Jensen was leaning over his bed, packing up a bag as quickly as he could.
“Let me in.” Sheppard’s voice made Jensen look up. Osric looked back at Jensen, grimacing. Jensen nodded.
“Let him in, Osric. It’s okay.”
Sheppard pushed in and rushed up to Jensen, taking his face lightly in his hands. “Oh Jesus. Look at your beautiful face. My dear little squirrel.”
“It doesn’t matter, Mark. You’re wasting your time if you’re going to try and stop me,” Jensen said, pulling his face from Sheppard’s grip and turning back to his bag.
“No—Jensen… You don’t understand.”
“I don’t care. I’m sorry, I’m sorry about abandoning you, but I can’t live like this.”
“I don’t
want
you to, Jensen. I would burn the Castro down if it meant you and the others could be happy. But you don’t know the whole story.”
Jensen stopped packing a moment, glancing over at Sheppard. “What’s the whole story?”
“Mr. Morgan is going to kill Jared.”
Jensen scoffed. “No. It won’t matter.”
“Jenny, you know how powerful he is. And how jealous. Unless you do his ending and sleep with him on opening night—He will have Jared killed.”
Jensen shook his head. He glanced at the door of the apartment. Kim was talking quietly with Osric, glancing up every few seconds toward Sheppard.
“You don’t scare me, Mark. And neither does he. Jared and I are going to leave, and you can’t stop me. My whole life almost all you’ve ever done is make me feel like a whore. Like I’m only worth what people can pay and how loud I can moan. But Jared doesn’t care about that shit. He loves me for
me
. That’s what matters. Thank you for what you’ve done, Mark but I—Goodbye.” He zipped his bag and turned to go.
“You’re dying, Jensen.”
Jensen froze in the center of the messy apartment, Sheppard’s words chilling him to the core. He turned slowly, their gazes locking across the room.
“Another trick?” Jensen asked. His mouth was dry, like he was talking through a mouthful of fabric.
“No, squirrel. The doctor told me. It’s cancer and it’s terminal. Too far gone for surgery or treatment.”
Jensen opened his mouth, closing it just as quickly. He shook his head. “No—“ He whispered.
“You can ask Kim, I wouldn’t lie to you about this, Jenny.”
Jensen turned to Kim, who lowered her head. She stepped past Osric into the room and wrapped her arms around Jensen. He began to breathe hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.
“I’m so sorry, Jen,” Kim whispered, rubbing his back.
“I—I can’t be dying.”
“I wish it was a trick, Jensen. I do. But it’s the truth,” Sheppard said softly. “You have to send Jared away. It’s the only way you can save him.”
Jensen shook his head. “He’s gonna fight. He—“
“I know. He loves you. Make him believe you don’t love him.”
Jensen’s face pulled into a pained grimace. “What? No, I—“
“It’s the
only way
, Jensen,” Sheppard pleaded. “You’re an amazing actor. Make him believe it. Believe it yourself if you must.”
“No, Mark, please, I can’t.”
Sheppard, set his hand on Jensen’s cheek. “You have to. There’s no other way. The show must go on, the play must continue down the path we already created. We’re creatures of the underworld, Jensen. We can’t afford to love.”
***
Jared was adding a few final items of clothing to his duffel bag when the door opened. He turned around, beaming at Jensen. The smile faded quickly when he saw Jensen alone and without a bag.
“Jen, what’s wrong?”
“Jared.”
Jared approached him, setting his hands on Jensen’s shoulders. “Jensen?”
“I—I’m staying with Jeffrey, Jared.”
Jared’s hands dropped from Jensen’s shoulders. He stared at the man in front of him, waiting for the punchline.
Jensen drew in a deep breath and looked up, smiling sympathetically.
“After Osric and I left, Jeffrey was just waking up. Back in my apartment. He apologized and he offered me everything. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of. More than you could ever give me. And I’m sorry, I—I took him up on it. He had one condition, and that was that I never see you again.”
Jared’s eyes welled with tears, a bitter burning in the back of his throat. He shook his head.
“No. Look what he did to you! Think about what we promised each other.”
“Dreams, Jared! This is reality, not one of your stupid stories,” Jensen snapped, surprised to see Jared wince at his tone.
“No,” Jared whispered again.
“You just don’t get it,” Jensen said. He turned away from Jared as he spoke, forcing himself to sound honest. “This is my home, Jared. You’re barely an adult. You can go anywhere you want. All I have is this. I can’t just up and leave like you can. The Castro is my home and I won’t go anywhere.”
Jared grabbed Jensen’s shoulders and turned him. “You’re lying. There’s something else wrong, something you aren’t telling me. Please, tell me, Jensen. I can handle it, we can get through it together.”
“There’s nothing else, Jared. This is just reality.”
Jared shook his head, giving Jensen a rough shake. “Don’t do this, you’re lying! I know you love me. Tell me the truth!”
Jensen’s face twisted into a sneer. He shoved Jared back from him and stood as tall as he could manage.
“The truth, Jared? I
am
the French courtesan and
you
are the penniless musician and I
choose
the Duke. That’s how the story really ends.”
He turned on his heel, walking out of the apartment and slamming the door after him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Five days. Five days until the show opened at the Castro and I’d lost everything. Misha came to my apartment early the morning after Jensen left me to issue me an official restraining order; I was no longer allowed in the Castro, or near Jensen. I would remain on the payroll, and still be allowed to edit the script, but all my work would be transferred between myself and Sheppard via Misha or Robbie.
That wasn’t the worst part though. I didn’t care about the play or the money or even the theatre. The worst part was being there. Being so close to Jensen, to everything we shared – and not being able to see him. His curtains remained closed at all times now, even my attempts of watching the doors when the rehearsals let out brought me nothing but more tears.
Tears, pain, shame, guilt – agony didn’t even begin to describe the feelings eating at my heart and guts.
By day three, I had had enough. I needed to see Jensen if it was the last thing I did. So I dressed and I walked to the Castro.
***
“Jared – What are you doing?” Misha asked, blocking Jared from entering the rehearsal hall.
“I need to see Jensen. I know he was lying to me,
something
is wrong and I have to know what.” Misha shook his head. “Jared, you will go to jail if they see you here. You have to go. Please.”
“Misha—Please,” Jared begged.
“I can’t, I’m sorry.”
Jared gritted his teeth and shoved past Misha, only to be stopped by Jeffrey’s bodyguard. He gave Jared a shove, sending him onto his ass.
“I suggest you leave, Padalecki.”
“Let me see Jensen!” Jared shouted, scrambling to his feet and trying once again to push past Pellegrino. Misha stepped out of the way, searching for someone to help him separate the two before it got more violent.
Pellegrino swung at Jared, his fist connecting with Jared’s cheek. Jared stumbled back, blood coming from his lip.
“I just want to talk to him,” He said, gritting his teeth. They were stained with blood, giving him a wild look. He went for Pellegrino again, using his height to his advantage. He lowered himself, barreling his shoulder into Pellegrino’s chest.
The blonde caught him, stumbling into the closed doors of the hall before shoving him backwards. He kicked out, boot landing squarely on Jared’s stomach and sending him against the opposite wall.
Jared moaned weakly, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
“Jared, please. Just go home,” Misha pleaded from a few feet away. Jared ignored him, approaching Pellegrino once again. He stopped short when the barrel of a pistol was pointed at his face.
“Back up,” Pellegrino said simply. Jared raised his hands, backing up against the opposite wall as Pellegrino closed in on him.
“Please,” he whispered, “I just wanna talk to Jensen.”
“Jensen doesn’t want to talk to you, Padalecki. Go home.”
Behind Pellegrino the theatre doors opened and Robbie rushed out, his eyes widening at the scene.
“Jared, what are you doing?” He asked, circling around Pellegrino. “Put that down.”
“Get him out of here then. I won’t have him distressing Jensen. Not this close to opening night.”
Misha and Robbie grabbed Jared’s arms, dragging him toward the exit.
“Let me go!” Jared screamed, fighting against his friends even as they shoved him outside.
Misha set a hand on Robbie’s chest. “I got him, go finish rehearsal.”
“Are you sure?”
“If he gets snappy I’ll just smack him. He’s okay. Just a little sad. Go on.”
“What do I tell Jensen?”
Misha glanced back at Jared. “Don’t say anything.”
He turned set his hand on Jared’s back. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“I need to see Jensen.”
“You’ve been drinking.”
Jared shoved Misha’s arm off him but followed him across the street and up to his apartment, still spitting blood out of his mouth every few steps.
***
Once in the apartment, Misha helped Jared crawl into his bed. A black eye was already forming where Pellegrino had punched him, and his lip was swelling a bit. Misha dug in the freezer, pulling out a package of frozen vegetables and wrapping it in a cloth before sitting on the bed next to Jared.
“Here.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Yes, you do, you look like shit.”
Jared snorted, taking the makeshift icepack. He set it against his face with a hiss.
“I feel like shit,” He finally mumbled.
“I understand. But Jared, things aren’t always what they seem.”
“Things are
exactly
the way they seem right now, Misha.”
Misha sighed softly, pulling the blanket over Jared’s waist and helping fluff his pillows. He pushed Jared back and brushed his hair from his forehead.
“Jared… I know you don’t see me as much. I—I’m trash. I wander with prostitutes and homeless people, befriend pimps and God knows what else. I’ve got a funny name and my best trait is making people laugh – But I know about art, and I know about love, Jared. I’ve never been in love but I
love
it. With every ounce of my soul, I love the concept of love. I know Jensen loves you. I know it.”
Jared grimaced, closing his eyes. He shook his head. “Go away, Misha.”
“Jared, please.”
“Go. Away.”
Misha sighed, rising and leaning on the wall, still making no attempts to leave the apartment.
Jared turned on him. “I said
go away
!” He screamed, throwing the ice pack. It missed Misha, skittering across the floor.
“Alright, Jared. I’ll go. But I’m still your friend. I’m still here for you,” Misha whispered before turning and walking out, leaving Jared alone in his agony.
***
I wanted to ignore what Misha had said. He had to be wrong. Jensen wouldn’t even see me to explain – he couldn’t love me. I was a fool for believing it in the first place. But Misha’s words, the passion behind his words—I couldn’t block that out. What if he was right? What if Jensen did still love me, if I was right and there was more to the picture? I couldn’t let the thought go. I couldn’t let Jensen walk out of my life if there was a chance that I could save him.
I knew it was stupid and bold. Pellegrino was dangerous, the restraining order was still being held over my head, and there was a chance that Jensen truly wanted nothing more to do with me, but I had to find out.
Opening night was my last chance. I had to return to the Castro one final time.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The Castro was packed when Jared slipped in through the back door, silently thanking Misha for teaching him to pick locks a few weeks prior. He could hear the music from the play, already halfway complete, echoing through the quiet back room that he entered. Moving slow and steady, Jared crept out of the room and down the hall, searching for any sign of Jensen. He
should
have been wrapping his time on stage, heading to the dressing room in just a few moments. Maybe if Jared could head him off—
Pellegrino came around the corner, spotting Jared. Their eyes met for a moment before Jared ducked around the corner, slipping behind some boxes and using them for cover. He could hear Pellegrino rushing toward him, searching for any sign of him.
Jared ducked around the front of the boxes just as Pellegrino moved behind them, taking the advantage and rushing out the door and down a small door on the floor. He knew, from blueprints of the theatre he’d seen, that this basement maze of tunnels was for the stagehands, an easy way to slip on and off stage and back to their dressing rooms without the audience spotting them. He worked his way through the cramped tunnels, peeking up through holes above him to gauge his surroundings every few minutes. Jensen was still singing on stage, the elegant notes of the song punctuating the otherwise silent path Jared was cutting through the theatre on his way to what he hoped was Jensen’s room.
Jared peeked up through one more hole, spotting the door to Jensen’s dressing room not too far off. He ducked down when he heard Misha’s voice approaching from behind the curtain.
“Jensen still loves him. You can
see
it. I mean, he’s not been the same since they broke up. There’s gotta be another reason he called it quits.”
It was Robbie that responded, “Well, there’s the fact that one is a rich governor and the other—“
Jared jumped when Robbie landed next to him, having fallen into another sleeping state and slipped down the small hole in the floor.
Above them, Misha continued to speak, “So you agree something is wrong, right? But what is it? What could make Jensen leave the man of his dreams?”
Jared bit his lip, glancing from the hole to Robbie. Maybe—
Without letting himself think too long, he stripped out of his own coat, grabbing Robbie’s vest and tugging it over his shoulders. It fit tight – almost comically so – but it was enough that he wouldn’t get noticed right away if he was wandering around backstage. Muttering a quiet apology to his unconscious friend, he climbed up through the hole in the floor and headed toward the dressing room.
***
Jensen coughed into the tissue, leaning against the wall of his dressing room. He moaned softly, his entire body aching with the strain of dancing he was doing on stage. Kim smiled sadly, reaching up and wiping sweat from his brow.
“Almost there, Jenny. Just this one show and then you’re set.”
Jensen laughed, throwing him into another coughing fit. When he could breathe again, he shook his head.
“Yeah, I’m set alright. Set to die. Jeffrey isn’t gonna want me like this.”
“He loves you in his own way, Jensen. He’ll get you care – better care than we could ever afford. You’ll be back on your feet in no time, just you wait. Until then – here.” She held out her hand, a few small pills in her palm.
“Painkillers?”
“Mm, the ones from the doctor. Should help you make it through the final act okay.”
Jensen took them from her and swallowed them dry, coughing again. “Thank you, Kim. You’ve been an amazing friend – A Mom to me, really.”
Kim tried to smile, her chin quivering. “Don’t you talk like that, Jen.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re already dead. I’m still gonna be a Mom to you, I’ll be crying at your wedding, you wait.”
Jensen chuckled and nodded, standing straighter. The pills were beginning to take effect, slowly numbing the pain radiating through his joints.
“Help me change, okay?”
“Of course.”
They set to work, getting him out of the tight-fitting clothes and into a modest suit, white and black, as requested by Jeffrey. His wedding attire.
When Jensen nodded, Kim slipped out of the room, allowing him to prepare for his big final scene in silence. This was everything. Maybe if he did well – he could get Jeffrey to pay for treatments. Since leaving Jared, he’d done research. There were experimental treatments for his type of cancer overseas, and just maybe—
“Jared!”
Jensen gasped his name when he looked up, spotting Jared standing in his dressing room doorway through the mirror.
“Jensen, please, I had to see you. One more time.”
“You can’t be here,” Jensen hissed, turning around and backing up against the vanity. Jared approached him, his hands upraised.
“Please, Jen—Tell me it didn’t mean anything.”
“I—It meant nothing, Jared, please. Go.” Jensen pushed past Jared, steeling himself against the tears that threatened to fall.
Jared’s eyes narrowed, fury rising in the pit of his stomach like a cruel fire. He turned around and followed Jensen, not caring if he was spotted.
“Then I’ve come to pay my bill.”
Jensen hesitated, the words stinging in the worst of ways. He turned slowly, unable to hide the pain in his features. “What?”
“My bill. I’ve come to settle the debt. All the times we
fucked
. I’m sure it’s a high bill by this point, I don’t know if I can cover it, but I can try.”
Jensen blinked tears back, turning away from Jared.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he spat before walking toward his entrance point again. Jared chased after him, closing the gap quickly and grabbing his arm.
“You made me believe that you loved me. Just like you were supposed to do. You warned me when we first met that it was all an act—So why shouldn’t I pay you?”
“Please—Jared—“
Kim came up to them, trying to pull Jared off Jensen. “He has to get on stage – you have to go, Jared.”
“I just want to pay,” Jared hissed, pushing her back. He gave Jensen a little shake. “All about money, isn’t it?”
Jensen coughed hard, shoving Jared back.
“There’s no point to this, it’s over,
please
go, Jared!”
Jim hurried over to them, trying to console Jared.
“Please, come on – you can talk to him after the show,” He pleaded.
“No!” Jared roared, shoving Jim off him and approaching Jensen again.
Jensen backed up, shaking his head. He looked over Jared’s shoulder and spotted Pellegrino, withdrawing his gun from the holster.
“No!” He cried, his desperate gaze falling on Jared’s wild one. “Go, please!”
“If it wasn’t real, why can’t I pay you? Huh? You did your fucking job, spot on acting.” He grabbed Jensen’s wrists, ignoring his struggle to get free.
Directly in front of them, Sheppard was shouting commands to the actors; it was time for Jensen’s final appearance.
“Let me pay!” Jared cried, ignoring the tears that threatened to fall from the eyes he’d gazed into so many times.
The doors opened slowly, nearly blinding Jared. He continued to fight against Jensen, who slid to the ground weakly.
“Just let me pay. Tell me it wasn’t real, that you never loved me!” He snapped, his voice breaking with unshed tears of his own.
The gasp from the audience was audible, drawing both Jensen and Jared’s gazes outward. Jared glanced over at Sheppard, seeing nothing but pain and fury in the returned gaze. He blinked and turned to the audience, flinging his arm out toward the two with a humorless laugh.
“I’m not fooled and you shouldn’t be either! He’s shaved and put on some ridiculous disguise, but it’s none other than the penniless musician!”
The audience gasped again, a collective applause breaking out at the seemingly clever tactic.
“He’s been driven
insane
with envy! Look at the way he holds our courtesan! Hurts him so cruelly. Exactly as I said he would!”
Jared looked down to where he was gripping Jensen’s wrists, pulling back when he saw the reddened skin from their struggle. He hadn’t meant to hurt him—
Not wanting to ruin the show or make any more of a scene than he realized he’d already made, he fell into character, following the original ending he’d written while in Jensen’s arms.
He grabbed the collar of Jensen’s tux, pulling him toward the steps onto the main stage. Jensen went with him, tears falling down his pale cheeks. He collapsed on the main stage when Jared let him go, looking up at him pleadingly.
Jared shook his head, turning away from Jensen to find Jeffrey in the audience. Their gazes met, pain and cruelty fighting one another silently.
“The boy is yours now,” He spat, digging in his jeans and pulling out a wad of cash. He turned to Jensen and threw it at him, not missing the visible wince when the money hit him in the chest, skittering haphazardly around his kneeling form.
“I’ve paid my whore,” Jared said. The audience gasped. Jared ignored them, meeting Jensen’s eyes.
“I don’t owe you a thing. And you’re nothing to me,” He whispered, biting back tears. “Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with
love.”
He turned and hopped off the stage, walking down the center aisle. He hesitated at Jeffrey’s seat, their eyes meeting again. Jeffrey smirked, shrugging. Jared shook his head, picking up a slow pace toward the exit of the theatre.
On stage, Sheppard motioned to Jared.
“See? I told you he didn’t love you! Look at the way he runs!” He crouched down, wiping Jensen’s tears. “My sweet squirrel, it’s for the best. The show must go on,” He whispered so the audience wouldn’t hear him. Jensen nodded and he stood.
“And now, my bride!” He helped Jensen stand, wiping away the rest of the tears and smiling warmly, “It’s time for us to be married, as we were meant to be!”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A loud crash from above the stage drew everyone’s attention upwards, but the source was hidden by the top curtain.
“Jared! The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return!” Misha’s voice echoed, loud and clear through the theatre. The audience and actors went silent, waiting for a cue as to how to proceed.
Jensen looked over at Jared’s slowly fading form. He smiled weakly, shaking his head. Taking in a haggard breath, he began to sing,
“Never knew I could feel like this.”
Jared hesitated, grimacing. Not that – anything but that. He steeled himself, shrugging off the jacket he’d taken from Robbie and dropping it on the floor before picking up his pace again.
“It’s like I’ve never seen the sky before,”
Jensen continued. Jared stopped once more, staring at the floor. He could feel the eyes of the audience members on him, waiting for him to make his move.
On stage, Jensen’s voice continued, loud but gentle at the same time, just enough to be heard,
“Want to vanish inside your kiss. Everyday I’m loving you more and more.”
Jared turned around, meeting his gaze. Jensen offered a soft smile and continued,
“Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?”
He walked to the edge of the stage, holding out his hands. He hesitated a moment, dragging in a haggard breath. A barely visible look of pain crossed his face before he finished,
“Come back to me and forgive everything! Seasons may change, winter to spring... But I love you until the end of time.”
Jared smiled wider, approaching the stage slowly as he began to sing as well,
“Come what may, come what may, I will love you until my dying day.”
He climbed up the stairs and they met in the center of the stage, Jensen reaching out to grasp Jared’s hands. They continued to sing together, the rest of the stage, audience, and world fading away. Jared’s heart pounded in his chest, tears of happiness filling his eyes.
“Come what may,”
“Come what may,”
“I will love you until my dying day!”
From above them, Misha shouted, “Jared! He’s got a gun! He’s trying to kill you!”
The audience laughed, assuming it was part of the play as Misha swung into view from one of the rafter ropes. He slammed into Pellegrino, standing just behind the curtain on the side of the stage.
Sheppard’s eyes bulged. He pointed to Jared and Jensen, fearing the worst. “Guards! Arrest them! Get them out of here!” He shouted, praying the distraction would be enough to prevent Pellegrino from getting an eye on Jared.
Misha and Pellegrino fought over the gun out of the view of the audience, sending it skittering across the stage. Pellegrino drew back, headbutting Misha. The action gave him time to push him off and scramble for the gun as Jim rushed out on stage.
“You’ll never take them alive!” He shouted, throwing a small ball against the stage. It cracked open with a pop and a spray of sparks, filling the stage with smoke and obscuring it mostly from view.
Taking advantage of the newfound cover, Sheppard and Jim covered Jensen and Jared, struggling to get them back through the doors they’d emerged from earlier.
Pellegrino snagged his gun, looking out through the smoky view to find Jeffrey.
He’d risen, searching through the haze for Jared and Jensen. When he spotted Pellegrino he motioned toward the center of the stage where they should be. Pellegrino advanced on them, shoving the other actors out of the way as they rushed to Jensen’s aid.
Robbie, having woken a few minutes earlier from his nap, shoved Pellegrino hard and grabbed the gun, punching him squarely in the nose.
“You won’t win this,” He snarled, shoving him backwards into Osric’s arms. Osric smirked, circling around him. He began to attack, taking advantage of the martial arts training he’d taken a few years prior.
On the main stage, Jared and Jensen continued to sing, as loudly as they could to make the audience think this was all a part of the show. Wrapped in each other’s arms, Jensen couldn’t erase the smile from his face if he’d wanted to.
“The book of love is long and boring,”
“But I love it when you sing to me,”
“And you can tell everybody this is your song,”
The smoke began to clear, giving the audience a clearer view of what was happening. It had gotten mostly under control by this point. Jim had a fake crying Sheppard on his knees, keeping him ‘away’ from the lovers. Jared and Jensen stood in front of the door, wrapped together as the rest of the actors still on stage sang with them.
“It’s amazing – make my heart sing –“
“And I will love you,”
In the audience, Jeffrey rose, fury visible in his dark eyes. He picked up the gun that had been lost in the scuffle, cocking it and raising it directly at Jared.
“The play will end
my
way,” He snarled.
“No, it won’t,” came Osric’s voice. When Jeffrey moved to swing the gun on him he grabbed the man’s arm, bringing it down as he raised his knee. The two connected with a sickening crack from Jeffrey’s arm. When he dropped the gun, Osric shoved him against Misha, who’d slipped down from the stage when he saw the fight. He grinned when Jeffrey turned to face him, drawing his hand back.
“It will always end
our
way,” He said before punching Jeffrey. They both chuckled when he collapsed and climbed back on stage with the rest of the group, joining in with the final lyrics of the song.
“Until my dying day.”
The curtain closed and Jared leaned forward, capturing Jensen’s mouth in a deep kiss. “I knew you still loved me.”
“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” Jensen panted against his lips. He drew back then, drawing in a ragged breath. He grabbed his stomach, face twisting in a grimace.
“Jensen?” Jared worried immediately.
“I’m o—Okay,” Jensen whispered. Sheppard brushed behind them, pushing them forward for a curtain call.
Jensen grimaced, each step feeling like he was wading through concrete. The pounding of his heart was audible in his ears, an unsteady, weak beat. Not now – Not like this— Jensen collapsed, unable to draw in a deep breath.
Jared went down as well, grabbing him close.
“Jensen, what’s wrong? What’s the matter?”
Jensen grimaced, tears filling his eyes.
“I—I hoped I’d have longer,” He whispered through his labored breaths.
“Longer for what? What are you talking about?”
Sheppard shook his head. “Hold the curtain and get the doctor on the phone,” He said hurriedly to Osric and Kim. They both rushed off. Everyone was watching the two on the floor, but Jared’s only focus was on Jensen.
“I’m dying, Jared…”
“No, don’t say that, you’re just tired, you’re—You’ve overworked yourself, please—“ He pleaded.
Jensen shook his head. “I didn’t tell you, I—I’m so sorry, Jared.”
“No, please, I love you, Jensen.”
Jensen tried to laugh, coughing weakly. A tear slipped down his cheek.
“I love you too.”
“You’ll be alright. Jensen, please, you’ve gotta be alright.”
Jensen reached up, stroking Jared’s face. “You have to go on, Jared.”
Jared shook his head, his chin quivering. “No. I can’t go on without you, you’ve gotta stay with me, Jen.”
Jensen leaned up as well as he could, pressing his cool lips against Jared’s mouth. “You have too much to give, Jared. You’ll move on. Tell our story. It’s the greatest love story in the whole world.”
Jared shook his head, tears running down his cheeks. “No, Jensen, please.”
“Promise me, okay?” He grimaced again. “Please, promise.”
Jared sobbed brokenly and nodded. “I promise.”
Jensen smiled. “That way, I’ll always be with you. I love you.”
“Please, Jensen. I love you, I—“
Jensen went limp in Jared’s arms, silencing him. He stared down at the face of the man he loved, silent sobs wracking his body. He pulled Jensen’s cold form close to him, sobbing against his shoulder.
The curtains opened, the audience screaming and whooping; the show was a success—
***
And Jensen was a star. His dream had been realized. But it was too late. Days turned to weeks and weeks into months. I didn’t know how to go on. I had lost my purpose. And then one day, a cool, winter’s morning, Misha came to see me. He reminded me of my promise and he pushed my cold laptop into my hands before he left. And I began to write.
I wrote the story of a street boy and a writer. I wrote the story of an eccentric showman and a failing business. I wrote a story about a place, about people, but most importantly—I wrote a story about love. A love that will live forever, longer than anyone in this book. I wrote about the most important lesson a human can learn. I explained that the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return. |
11139690 | Ketika Shinya Ngambek | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Ichinose Guren, Hiiragi Shinya",
"Fandom": "終わりのセラフ | Owari no Seraph | Seraph of the End",
"Language": "Bahasa Indonesia",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Rexa",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-08T00:00:00",
"words": "438",
"Additional Tags": "Werecats, Romance, Some Humor, Nulis Random 2017",
"Relationship": "Hiiragi Shinya/Ichinose Guren",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Nulis Random 2017",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
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"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | Shinya merajuk, ngambek. Gara- garanya sih sepele. Klise malahan. Guren lupa membeli kapsul ekstrak rumput catnip. Iya, soalnya ini dunia werecat, mana ada ekstrak kulit manggis? Adanya ekstrak rumput catnip. Makanya Shinya ngambek. Jangankan menyahut, dipanggil sayang sama Guren menoleh pun tidak. Duduk manis di atas sofa tunggal berbahan beledu biru yang tepiannya disulam dengan benang emas, Shinya diam melipat keempat kakinya dengan mata birunya menerawang jauh entah ke mana.Oh iya, kalau kau mau tahu, Shinya mode ngambek itu sama dengan Shinya mode kucing jutek. Maksudnya Shinya menolak berwujud manusia, memilih wujud kucingnya, Blue Point Himalayan, sebagai bentuk protes atas kelalaian Guren. Sebenarnya Shinya dalam mode kucing plus ekspresi jutek adalah keimutan hakiki yang tak bisa diganggu gugat. Absolutely cute. Guren dibuat pusing karena pengen peluk saking gemasnya tapi Shinya melawan dengan cakar-cakar imutnya. Di sinilah Guren berlutut di hadapan Shinya sambil membawa upeti, sepuluh keranjang besar berisi paket produk ekstrak rumput catnip favorit Shinya. Niatnya membujuk, tapi tatapan galak yang terlontar membuat personifikasi Black Panther itu mengkeret. Ya iyalah mengkeret. Udah seminggu Shinya ngambek, tak sedikit pun memedulikan keadaan Guren apalagi rumah. Guren yang biasanya dimanja dengan seluruh kehangatan perhatian Shinya jadi kelabakan. Jangankan urusan ranjang, urusan perut saja jadi terbengkalai. Nasib jadi PTNB (Pejantan Tangguh Nurut Bini) sejati. Guren jadi pengemis cinta. "Shinya... maafkan aku honey, please?" "...." "Ini kanda bawakan upeti untuk dinda seorang. Maafkan kanda ya?" bujuknya lagi sambil mengulurkan tangan dengan niat hendak membelai bulu panjang kelabu nan halus milik Shinya. Cakaran di pipi Guren ditoreh cantik. "Shinya... udah seminggu lho. Masa adinda ga peduli sama kakanda? Nanti kita ke onsen deh, ya? Atau ke Hawaii?" Muka memelas Guren sungguh membuat iba. Tapi Shinya tetap pada pendiriannya. Pssst .... ini udah yang kesekian kalinya lho. Mood Shinya memang lagi jelek, tambah kelakuan Guren seminggu lalu yang membuat tombol badmood semakin terpicu, alhasil Shinya masih menyimpan dendamnya. Masih mendeklarasikan perang pada sang suami tercinta. "Shinya.... kalau mau marah, marahlah. Bila kesal, lampiaskanlah. Luapkanlah kepada kanda. Kakanda mengerti, kakanda paham. Kakanda yang salah. Hanya saja, tolong ... jangan diamin kakanda kayak gini dong, adinda Shinyaku tercinta. Kakanda bingung tak tahu harus bagaimana kalau adinda memilih 'tuk diam saja." Shinya menoleh. (Oh sudah mau menoleh rupanya). Senyum Guren sumringah melebar. Kedua tangannya menjulur hendak memeluk kucing--eh bini kesayangan. Tapi Guren salah perkiraan, Shinya justru melompat menghindari pelukan super darinya. Berujung pada mendaratnya wajah ganteng pada lengan sofa, menyusruk dengan bibir mencium mesra sandaran tangan. Shinya melenggang anggun ke arah dapur. Meninggalkan Guren yang terpaksa berpose aneh di sofa dengan bibir jontor akibat aksinya barusan. Nasiiiibbb.... nasib. Guren dilanda badai nelangsa. Menangisi apesnya nasib yang sedang sial-sialnya... End |
11155320 | everybody lost somebody | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Shaolin Fantastic, Ezekiel \"Zeke\" Figuero, Mylene Cruz (mentioned), Marcus \"Dizzee\" Kipling, Thor (The Get Down) (mentioned)",
"Fandom": "The Get Down (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by prettydizzeed",
"chapters": "5/5",
"completed": "2017-07-06",
"published": "2017-06-09T00:00:00",
"words": "2,687",
"Additional Tags": "Post-Canon, fat annie died or something bc i didn't want to try to resolve that, i just wanted to focus on shao and zeke's relationship, Self-Hatred, Implied/Referenced Abuse, the rating is mostly for the sheer quantity of curse words",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Shaolin Fantastic/Ezekiel \"Zeke\" Figuero, Shaolin Fantastic & Ezekiel \"Zeke\" Figuero, Shaolin Fantastic & Marcus \"Dizzee\" Kipling, Dizzee/Thor mentioned, past Zeke/Mylene, Ezekiel \"Zeke\" Figuero & Marcus \"Dizzee\" Kipling",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | Broken.“You ain't magic.” But Shao had never believed that anyway, had learned so long ago to hold words in his mouth for the briefest seconds so they didn't get a chance to revolt from the untruths. He wasn't magic, not when Zeke spun fucking hurricanes out of the space between sentences, gathered up electrons into his fingertips until Shao's gaze crackled when he tried to look. Zeke was the fucking sun, and no wonder Icarus kept trying to get closer. He set the Bronx on fire again and told it to be a phoenix this time around, and the entire city listened. He poured the marrow back into people's bones, slow and sweet and hurting like a motherfucker. Like a prayer on the devil’s lips.Shao didn't belong to that, that storm that believed it could purify. These streets were paved with shit and eventually it seeped in through the souls of your feet. The rhythm between these buildings was a eulogy and there was no way to get it out of your head or out of the carpet. The people who conquered these neighborhoods were princes of Hell. There was nothing left of his skin but sandpaper, and a snapshot of everyone's face as they pulled back.Fuck this. The red was too bright to deal with now, too much pressure on his eyelids, searing something permanent into his corneas. When did they decide this was a good idea. He thought he needed him the second he heard him talk and knew it wasn't mutual and just hoped Zeke never realized. Without Shao, Zeke's words were still poetry. Were still something vital and dangerous and whole. Without Zeke, Shao’s music was accompaniment to the silence, to the pause where his heartbeat should be. And his heartbeat wasn't worth shit.Maybe Zeke could hear it, those times when he got too close and stayed there, the steady drumming of iwantyou that sang like rain on the roof until Shao strangled it, folded it into something that wouldn't burn his throat on the way out and spit it out as fuck. Sometimes he thought he heard an echo, a mirror image slipped beneath all the posturing, a secret beat that carried the words’ pulse and said the sun was flying toward him, too, and their collision would be full of awe.
Maybe you don't think I'm magic, but you looked at me like I was.
And fuck him, damn him to hell. But damn Shao, too, for the half-second in which he was convinced Zeke meant it. “You a natural everything.”A natural disaster.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Shao ran. Because he was good at it. Because sometimes the only thing he knew was how to keep moving even when his bones were somewhere in the asphalt, how to step with skin alone. There was a beat to it, something insistent. There was something ironic about the cadence of his breath, how it left him empty for a damning moment between pushing everything away and gasping to get it back.
This body is a fucking metaphor. Thought he liked those.
But really, he knew: Zeke liked soft, liked words that lilted and made people dissolve, liked butterscotch bodies and the corresponding melt. And Shaolin Fantastic was not some motherfucking candy, and Shao was steel from all the shrapnel in his skin, and Zeke didn't write shit begging him to fall in love with him. He didn't have to.His shoes kept wanting to turn his body around, no matter how many weeks it'd been. Just get within earshot of him. Then—anything. Fucking grovel. Bleed his street cred out through his knees on the pavement. Beg himself back into Zeke’s peripheral vision. Ask the god of some cathedral how to be loved, how to breathe in the dark, how to take it all back.But she, and she, and she, and he kept going wherever, anywhere else. Her name in every echo of his footsteps, the letters shaking and heavy and announcing with perfect spelling every reason this was fucking impossible, fucking doomed.The TVs shouted in all their neon unholiness that California claimed a new queen and Shao’s heart was something airy and venomous, but he squared his shoulders and tied it down, bit his tongue on the I told you so. Instead: an empty spray can. On the wall, a stack of books, the spines yelling out all kinds of regret. HER DREAM SHOULD HAVE HAD YOU IN IT. It was the best he could do, now. It wasn't near enough.He kept circling back, making paint splatter of his internal organs, biting his lip. In three days, like this was some fucking miracle: HE’LL THANK YOU EVENTUALLY. Shao pictured Dizzee at night, making all those colors align, caring enough to use them on something Rumi wasn't a part of. Alien brother.
I told you my name.
And then he went and said it.And that was the problem, really. He made words sound like they meant something. And then he said Shao's name like it was just a bunch of letters.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
When Zeke was back—only a week at a time, and only after months—Shao barely left the temple. He told Dizzee he didn't want to know, but he still got snatches:
“Cmon, Zeke, don't say that. You know he paid Boo’s bail?”
“Yeah, with money from the same drugs that got Boo in jail to begin with. That doesn't change anything, Dizz.”
And it didn't. What changed things was the gun in some stranger’s hand and her body—her body, no longer able to reach for him—and all that power in the hands of people who didn't give a fuck about the get down or people who were once brothers or Shao running and never coming within miles again.Dizzee knew everything had changed. Shao was pretty sure Zeke still thought nothing had, the next time he was back. And maybe they were only meant for summer, because who could rule the world in this weather? But the air still shifted when he was there, the city still screamed long live the king.He rebuilt the temple, which sounded fucking biblical, but really he just needed an address no one would know. He didn't keep enough money to be worth coming after, but that didn't mean anything, didn't guarantee anything. He still expected to see her ghost on his couch every time he entered the room. Dizzee tried to fill the space with people and excuses—Napoleon needed a place to crash, white boy stayed out too late bombing and the trains stopped running for the night, Dizzee was tired of people who wanted him to be from earth—but when Zeke was back, everything was empty. Fucking metaphor. Fucking paradox.
“He cried over her a lot, you know? Even when they didn't really talk much anymore. He cried over her, but he hasn't been writing about her, ‘cause he always showed us those rhymes and he keeps these hidden.”
Shao slept with his teeth clenched.“I'm gonna tell him.”“What the fuck, Dizz?”“He should know your circumstances have changed.”“No, he fucking shouldn't, and it doesn't fucking matter, and don't you fucking dare.”Maybe he did. Nothing changed. Kings don't need temples when they're the ones being prayed to by a people too desperate for a god, by palms with the need for something tangible but not necessarily real. Temples were for those who had no concept of an aftermath, with the tinge of something holy still hot on their tongues, so Shao started calling it an apartment.Then Zeke was in his apartment.He looked like the sun, because of course, dammit, sure of himself and hard to look at, and it had been so many fucking goddamn months and Shao's blood was evaporating and he didn't even give a decent answer to the fuck are you doing here just stepped inside like he knew Shao wouldn't stop him, like he knew Shao was too damn radioactive to do anything right now, and started talking just to rub it in that he was capable and fuck him he was capable& he said I didn't know Dizzee never told me but then Dizzee never told me a lot of things he said you've met that white boy and I still don't know his name and I guess he told you Mylene left and he says you won't say what happened with them and what am I doing in fucking Connecticut man I don't know his name I didn't know Dizzee was“Was what.”Zeke looked like he wasn't expecting Shao to speak.“Was what, Books? What’re you gonna call him?”“Easy, Shao, I'm not gonna talk shit, he's still my brother.”“Yeah? And what about people who aren't your brother?” He should be looking at his eyes, that would put some force in this, but he can't so it sounds vaguely desperate.“Shao…”“I'm just saying, don't talk shit about anybody about that. Plenty of other shit to talk about.”“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Zeke opened the door. “Anyway, Dizz made me swear I'd come see you, and I did, so.”“What, you want me to thank you or something, man?”“No.” Zeke's face was too fucking familiar, splatter-painted with summer days and the nights they'd spent in the same room. Shao sighed.“So how's college or whatever?”Zeke stepped back in, closed the door. Barely even hesitated.No matter what else had changed, Shao had been right. Zeke still spun poetry unconsciously, filled up the room with words until it was hard for Shao to breathe, all those syllables replacing the air in his lungs until there was no space to say anything.Which was probably a good thing. I miss you. You're killing me.Zeke tried to ask about the white boy. Shao shook his head. “That's Dizzee’s to tell, man.”“Yeah, okay. He won't really talk to me about it. I guess he thinks I'm freaked out or something.”“Are you?”“Nah, it's… I get it, you know? It makes sense.”“Because it's Dizzee?” Fuck this, he shouldn't be shaking.“No. I just… I get it.”Shao's throat hurt, sore from everything he hadn't said. You're killing me.“Yeah. Me too.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
They don't talk about it.They don't talk at all, really, Zeke just leaves and it’s months again and then it’s summer again and it’s too much time to avoid each other. It’s too hot to pretend.So when Dizzee hauls Zeke to Shao's doorframe and looks at Shao and says “Stop flinching when I say his name, you're making my paint thin,” Shao just nods.Zeke rubs the back of his neck. “So, uh.” He lifts one shoulder. Shao had forgotten the exact texture of his voice. “Y’know, Mylene was really jealous of you.”Shao snorts. “Nah, she was just scared I'd corrupt your ass.”Shao hadn't forgotten his laugh. Like rain on this burning city, too healing to handle.“I mean, yeah, but not… Like, she thought I'd leave her for you.”There are no cuss words strong enough for this. There is nothing he can say that could summon earthquakes, that could sear the sky, and maybe Zeke could say something close enough to express this intensity, to manage it, but he's still talking—“Which, like, I told her was ridiculous.”There are no words for every speck of your cytoplasm turning to acid. Shao’s ears are ringing from the fucking force of it but he still hears Zeke continuing as if he didn't just launch a bomb from his mouth—“But it got me thinking, you know? And like, I wouldn't have, but when she moved and then when things weren't working anymore and… Maybe she had a point.”There is no possible way to formulate a response to that, so Shao says, “She told me to get my own boyfriend or some shit like that.”“Man. Dizzee, Mylene, everybody seemed to get it except us.”“Speak for yourself.”Zeke snorts but manages to also look curious and a little embarrassed. Maybe. Maybe Shao's seeing all sorts of things that aren't there, like interest. “Really?”Yeah, really. You beautiful fucking dumbass. Shao shrugs.“Wow, I must be fucking oblivious.”“You are.” Zeke jostles him and he grins. “‘Sokay, it was better that way.”“I'm not so sure.”“Oh, please,” Shao says, because he will not let Zeke fucking flirt with him by dismissing the girl he was hung up on for fucking years, no way in hell is that how this is going down, although he knows it's only gonna go downhill—“Yeah, you're probably right. It took til now for me to get what was going on with myself. Some people at Yale… It took seeing them, like that thing Dizzee says, y'know, free people being free.”Shao just nods because he's too busy wondering where they even go from here, it's not like they can squeeze those words out of the carpet and put them back safely in their lungs, it's way too fucking late to laugh it off.Zeke is still looking at him like he's expecting a response. “Listen, uh… Can we just act like this never happened?”His face is a broken window. Shao can see right through it, see where he keeps everything valuable.“Why?”Shao rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “Because that was a long time ago, man, and I don't want things to change—” not that they had much left to change, anyway— “with you knowing that I'm… that I was… you know.”“No, I don't know. You've been standing here while I say yeah, Mylene was maybe a little too early on calling it but she was right, I love you, and you haven't said a damn thing. You leave it all implied in the shrug of your shoulders but I don't know for sure because you won't tell me and then you act like you're the one at a fucking disadvantage here.”Shao snorts. “You? At a disadvantage?” But he can tell Zeke’s pissed enough to do something like leave again, so he sighs. “Yeah, Books. I love you.”And then Zeke is breathing poetry into his mouth, every little sigh some fucking sonnet, and this is some act of creation, they're a goddamn art—Zeke's hand touches his skin, under his shirt, and Shao shoves him. “Don't.”Zeke holds his hands up, looking stricken. “I'm sorry, man. You okay?”“I said fucking don’t, Books.”Zeke nods slowly. “Okay.”He leaves Shao alone with the static in his skin.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Zeke comes back.It's morning. Early. Shao wishes he could think something like I knew you would, but he didn't, so instead he thinks fuck you.They sit on the roof and smoke.“You here all summer?” Shao asks eventually, and Zeke looks at him.“Am now.”Shao doesn't know what that means, but he nods. His body is a foreign language, but he swallows, and tries to translate—“Sorry, Books.”Zeke shakes his head. “Remember how I'm oblivious?”Shao snorts. “Yeah.”“I didn't know. I—I should've figured it out.” He squints at the horizon. “I'm glad she's dead.”Shao exhales. “Yeah.”Then Zeke asks if he can kiss him, and Shao fights hard against whatever's in his chest that's threatening to make him cry.It's the end of summer, which shows exactly how stubborn Zeke is, when he whispers against Shao’s mouth, “You ain't broken.”Shao can practically feel the scrapes on his elbows knitting back together. “Not anymore,” he says, quiet, his throat just barely allowing it out.Zeke shakes his head. “Not ever.”When Zeke's hands end up on his waist, Shao tugs his shirt up just a little, so Zeke's thumbs are on his hipbones. It's a fucking renaissance. This kiss belongs in a museum. This kiss belongs spray-painted on every train in the state.Shao breathes against Zeke's mouth, Zeke's mouth like the opening riff, like the get down, Shao playing this on repeat and repeat and repeat. |
11140281 | Five Reasons Renfield | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "Gen",
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} | Five Reasons Renfield Turnbull Came To Like Chicago
Five Reasons Renfield Turnbull Came To Like Chicago
by riverlight
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine; I intend no harm, and make no profit.
Author's Notes: Lozenger8 requested exactly 500 words of Dief-centric fic. I got the word count right, at least!
When Inspector Duval told Renfield that he was being posted to Chicago, Renfield was surprised. Surely he could better serve Queen and Canada in, well, Canada? However, on further thought, he decided that he wasn't entirely displeased. Naturally there were Canadian citizens in a city like Chicago. And he had always wanted to visit the States...He stopped by the bookstore during his lunch hour and bought a travel guide.
* * *
Inspector Thatcher informed him that she wouldn't be at the Consulate when he arrived, as she had an official function to attend, so Renfield assured her that he would be glad to take a taxi from the airport. He was pleased at the prospect of having a woman for a superior officer; women certainly were just as capable as men, and were more nurturing, besides. He was rather looking forward to it.
* * *
He rapped on the doors when he arrived, but no one answered, so after a moment he poked his head in. No one answered when he called, either, but a large white dog trotted out from behind the stairs. Surely this wasn't the Constable that Inspector Thatcher had told him to expect? He was almost entirely sure that dogs couldn't be Constables, though there was a Canine Corps... In any case, the dog seemed friendly, so Renfield went and sat down to await the arrival of someone who could direct him to his quarters.
* * *
It turned out the dog could talk; Renfield had been in the middle of a story about his time in Kamloops when the dog had broken in to point out that wolverines couldn't possibly be the animals Renfield had seen, as they weren't nocturnal, and in any case he was a wolf, not a dog. Renfield was surprised; he'd never encountered a talking dog before, much less a talking wolf. On further reflection, though, he decided that such things must be possible; Sergeant FitzGibbons at the Depot always said you never knew what you'd encounter in police work. So Renfield nodded his thanks and finished his story, and in return the wolf told him about a bear he'd met once in Tsiigehtchic. Wolves, Renfield discovered, were remarkably good conversationalists.
* * *
When nobody had appeared by nine o'clock, Renfield began thinking about finding a hotel, but the wolf assured him that he could bed down in one of the back rooms and that someone named Benton would straighten it out with Inspector Thatcher in the morning. The first door he opened was an office; the second, he was glad to see, was a kitchen. There was an elderly gentleman in a fur hat in the kitchen, which startled him, but they had a nice chat, and he gave Renfield some useful advice about dealing with drunken moose. After a while, the wolf got impatient, so Renfield took his leave and tried a third room, which proved to be empty, invited the wolf in, and spread out his bedroll. On the whole, he decided, he rather liked Chicago.
(End)
End Five Reasons Renfield Turnbull Came To Like Chicago by riverlight
Author and story notes above.
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Read posted comments. |
11199432 | JohnCroft ficlet | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Mycroft Holmes, John Watson",
"Fandom": "Sherlock (TV)",
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"author": "by MycMurr",
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"published": "2017-06-14T00:00:00",
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} | — Как ты сюда попал?! Я думал тебе нужно приглашение! — Джон слышал панику в своем голосе, смотря на Майкрофта, удобно расположившегося в его любимом кресле. Мужчина лишь приподнял бровь, всем своим видом говоря «не глупи». Ватсон почувствовал, как напряглось его тело, когда Холмс медленно встал и подошел к нему. Глаза политика сверкали, сканируя доктора с головы до ног.— Хватит на меня так смотреть! — Ватсон сделал шаг назад, ненавидя себя за это. Он видел, как на лице Майкрофта появилась небольшая ухмылка.— Смотреть как, Джон? Еще больше доктор ненавидел эту фальшивую небрежность. Ему хотелось ударить мужчину, чтобы увидеть хоть что-то кроме скуки и презрения в его глазах.— Как будто я какая-то закуска! Зачем ты здесь? Майкрофт остановился прямо перед ним, и Джон мог почувствовать запах дорогого одеколона. От этого аромата у Ватсона всегда подкашивались ноги, а сердце начинало биться быстрее. Он стиснул зубы, когда Холмс облизнул свои губы, слыша, как сердцебиение доктора ускорилось.— Может быть, я просто голоден? — прошептал он полным вожделения голосом, отчего Джон содрогнулся всем телом. Он пылал от слов Майкрофта, от того как он это сказал, и то того как он на него смотрел, словно был готов в любой момент предъявить на него свои права.— Джон, — Майкрофт наклонился. И как только изящные пальцы политика легко коснулись руки Ватсона, принося с собой тепло чужого тела, доктор застонал подаваясь вперед, совершенно не думая, что делает. Джон хотел его, хотел сдаться и поцеловать старшего Холмса, почувствовать его губы на своих, почувствовать тепло его языка, твердость его тела.— Джон, — Майкрофт схватил руку доктора, приблизившись на один шаг так, что Джон мог почувствовать твердость политика против его собственной. Он мог почувствовать жажду и похоть, возникшую внутри него, которая заставляла забыть, почему это было плохой идеей.— Майкрофт, мы не можем… — начал было Ватсон, но старший Холмс остановил его поцелуем, крепко хватая его за руки и отталкивая назад на диван. Джон не мог двигаться, не мог думать, когда Майкрофт целовал и облизывал его губы, прижимая к себе, заставляя чувствовать твердость своего возбуждения. — Джон, не сопротивляйся. Ты нужен мне, — прорычал он, спускаясь губами по шее доктора, облизывая и посасывая каждый дюйм кожи. Политик сорвался на рык снова, когда его руки, наконец-то справившись с рубашкой, добрались до разгоряченного тела Джона.— Майкрофт, я… О, черт! — рука Холмса легла на брюки Ватсона, лаская член, и от этого доктор окончательно потерялся. Он крепко вцепился в ягодицы Майкрофта, ища больше телесного контакта, когда политик снова приник к его губам, подавляя голод.— Ты великолепен, Джон. И ты весь мой. Джон хотел было запротестовать, но политик расстегнул ширинку, высвобождая член и беря его в руки, отчего доктор вцепился в плоть Майкрофта еще сильнее.— Да! Вот так, Джон. Потеряй контроль для меня. Он застонал, когда старший Холмс начал быстрее и жестче водить рукой вдоль ствола, требуя всего внимания, облизывая шею, оттягивая волосы свободной рукой, чтобы было больше места для оставления меток.— Твою мать! — выругался отставной военврач, когда политик ускорил темп, не останавливаясь ни на секунду, попутно целуя рот Джона, как будто пожирая.— Отлично, Джон, великолепно! Ты удивительный на вкус! Да, вот так, не останавливайся! — Ватсон задыхался. Ноги его были обернуты вокруг талии Майкрофта. Голова мужчины кружилась от переполняющего сексуального возбуждения. Он чувствовал, что такая сладкая и нужная разрядка уже близко, но этого было недостаточно. Доктор знал, чего хотел политик, поэтому он заставил себя разомкнуть веки и посмотреть Холмсу прямо в глаза.....— Давай же, сделай это! Я знаю, что ты хочешь, сделай это сейчас. Пожалуйста, Майкрофт, пожалуйста! — Было неловко из-за того, как жалобно это звучало. Но самый чувственный звук, изданный Холмсом-старшим, заставил Джона забыть обо всем. Мужчина откинул голову назад, полностью обнажая шею, чтобы политик мог снова провести по ней языком, пуская мурашки по всему телу. — О Боже, пожалуйста, пожалуйста, не останавливайся! Майкрофт еще раз оглядел военврача голодными голубо-серыми глазами перед тем как, наклонившись, облизать тоже самое место на шее Ватсона. После его зубы вонзаются в плоть, разрывая кожу, а язык работает быстро, вылизывая вытекающую из раны кровь. В момент укуса Джон тяжело излился в кулак Холмса, попадая себе на живот и выкрикивая имя любовника, пока тот вылизывал и посасывал шею, оставляя следы в виде мокрых дорожек.— М-м-айкрофт, детка, кончи для меня. Я хочу чувствовать, как ты изливаешься на мою ногу, пожалуйста. Доктор не сводил взгляда с лица Майкрофта, чувствуя напряжение в теле мужчины, а затем наблюдая, как тот кончает. Ватсон смотрел на несколько капель крови скопившихся возле рта политика, на темно-серые глаза, на острые края клыков, в то время как Холмс выкрикивал имя отставного военврача, достигая оргазма.— Иди сюда, — сказал Джон, захватывая голову любовника в руки и соединяя свои губы с его. Они оба застонали, когда язык мужчины прошелся по краям зубов Майкрофта, ощущая медный вкус собственной крови. Как только Ватсон углубил поцелуй, Холмс-старший зарычал, запутывая пальцы в волосах любовника, тем самым удерживая его на месте до того момента, пока ему не понадобился воздух. Тяжело дыша, политик встал с колен мужчины. Его глаза так и светились довольством.— Перестань выглядеть таким самодовольным.— Я не выгляжу самодовольным.— Нет, выглядишь. Майкрофт выглядел еще более самодовольным, обводя Джона жадным взглядом.— Теперь мне нужен новый костюм.— Я бы предпочел увидеть тебя без него.— Хочешь прямо сейчас? — Холмс улыбнулся, подошел ближе и наклонился, облизав губы, прежде чем прошептать:— Тебе сегодня очень повезло, Джон. Хочешь помочь мне избавиться от него? |
11128215 | Kindness is Free | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "Other",
"Characters": "Sans (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans - Character, Underswap Papyrus - Character, Lea OC, Bob OC, Underfell Sans - Character, Fresh Sans",
"Fandom": "Undertale (Video Game)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by LeaStone",
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"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Bittybones, Reader is a mage, reader is female, Reader has multicolored soul, protective bitties, Little edgy is edgy, swap sans is a protective little smol, Tsundere Red, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader Is Not Chara, Feels, Fluff, No Smut, it's not something I write, Angst, Sadness, depictions of harming, careful now, you're in feels territory, probs inktale sans but i don't know, bitty suggestions are welcome, i'm running out of ideas ;-;, Swap paps is cool, Hoodie, Carrot - Freeform, scarf, I don't have a schedule, So don't expect chapters everyday, AHHHHHHHHHHHH, I'm killing myself writing this, why am I doing this to myself, Things will get kinda dark, Maybe - Freeform, there is fluff, I'm trying to fluff dont judge me, Cuddles, Hoodie loves cuddles, Panic Attacks, ketchup, Honey, maybe Scarf finds Lea's Whiskey stash, on hiatus for the time being while im editing it",
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} | "Hey Lea, could you get those boxes over there?""Sure Bob!" You ran over and picked up a- OH LORD THAT'S HEAVY. You struggle to retain your grasp as you hand it to him."Thanks!" He smiles at you, and you rest your arms as he EASILY carries the box to the truck. HOLY FREAKING CRAP THAT FELT LIKE TWO TONS."How the HECK do you do that?" You ask while looking at him as he walks over, arms swinging to stretch."I work out." He raises a bicep and winks at you. You facepalm and chuckle at his childish demeanour."Yeah yeah..." You slide your hand down your face. He laughs as well, his green eyes sparkling with amusement as he picks up another box and does the same thing."I've almost got the rest of the load," Bob says as he picks up another box. "you can go ahead-" He was interrupted as glass shattered in the room next to them.The garage."Crap... I'm gonna take a look." You say as you start to walk towards the large doors. But Bob grabbed your arm, gently, but firmly."Lea, what if it's a burglar?" You wince slightly as you heard the word, but you hid it immediately. "You could...""Bob," You stopped him. "Who would want to steal from here?" You immediately regretted the word choice, because he let go of your arm. You knew he cared about the worn down place.After all, he is the son of the owner."Leala, this is a moving company." He stated. "Yes, I know that there is nothing we have that they would want to steal. But what about the stuff of our customers?" He glanced at the big doors."Okay, I'm sorry..." You really were."But I should really check it out though... Please?" You looked at him apologizing with your eyes, and begging at the same time.Weird expressions."Fine." He conceded. "But please, don't get... hurt." He looked at you with worried eyes."Ha! Me? Get hurt? Psshhh. Yeah, in your wildest nightmares bud." You threw a karate chop at him and he didn't even flinch. He stared at you with doubt. "WELL, IT DIDN'T WORK ON YOU CAUSE YOU'RE STRONG!" You gave him a pout face.A small smile carried its way on his face. "Shout if you need me, I'll be there like the flash." He said seriously."No worries." You smiled back.You strode to the door opening it and walking inside. It opened silently... Thank God...You haven't really been in the garage. Well, to do a few errands, but you didn't look around very much.You walked by some dusty brooms leaned up against the wall, and saw shelves lining the sides of the starting expanse, organised to go in rows. the concrete floor below you felt cold as you walk across it with thin shoes. Why did I get these at the dollar store... You thought regretfully. wait- NOW ISN'T THE TIME TO BE WORRYING ABOUT SHOES, FOR PETE'S SAKE-You passed a shelf, and your hair stood on end. You immediately hide behind it and look over your shoulder to reveal a LOT of indoor parking space. But the garage is closed today... Why is someone here?A brown pickup truck took up one of the spaces, and three men tossed around a box. The box was made of cardboard and sounded flimsy. One of the men started talking to the other, but you couldn't understand any of it. They were all faced away from you, you quickly look away for a second trying to figure out if you should call Bob or not.No, you always end up asking him for help, Every time you need something. You're not going to rely on him for everything. You can't. It makes you feel like you're using him, and you don't like it.You turn around and look over your shoulder again, only to see that they dropped the box and were getting back into the truck. Oh, good. They're leaving...They weren't leaving. They were staying in the garage.Backing up.Where the box was......
Are they going to run over it...?
"This is what you get, you stupid monsters! Should never have come up here!" A man with a deep voice spits the last part out like venom."Have a nice time dying, you pathetic pieces of garbage!!!" Another nasty voice yells.... This...This was making you mad...They were backing up faster. They threw the box quite ways away...To revel in it maybe?...If that's the case...?"OH HELL NAW!" You yelled as you ran towards the box. Ah...
Wait...
Oh no
WHY AM I RUNNING TOWARDS THE DANGER?!Dust kicking behind your heels, you ran across the cement flooring. You hear yelling to "Get OUT Of The Way!" But no way in HECK are you going to let them do this CRUELTY.You get close enough to do a knee dive, so you knelt down while you tried to slide across the floor. Bad idea...You scraped your knees and fell over in front of the box. "Dang it, that was a stupid Idea..." You wince and try to get up, then remembering what you came here to do in the first place.Heart beating like a drum you pick up the box and hold it tight.You try to get up to run back but... You can't and your legs buckle. Leading to a hefty ZAP of pain on your knee caps. They were bleeding now.
Great.
"What the HELL do you think you're doing?!" The man with the deep voice is back... yay...
oh wait no-
"Uhm... I-I was j-just" You start to stutter. DANG, NOT NOW-"That's mine! GIVE IT BACK!!!" He reaches for the box and you jerk it away. Trying to protect whatever's inside OH WAIT CRAP THAT JERK COULD'VE- You look at the box apologetically. You couldn't speak to it, it would look like your crazy... wait."I'm sorry, I jerked it too hard..." You say to the box, maybe feigning insanity could help your chances of living?
Dear God what am I doing...
You hear faint shuffling inside. WAIT WHAT.You hear the guy grunt with rage and get back in the truck and pull something out.It was a sleek black-
GUN OH NO OH CRAP-
He pointed it at you. "You dirty monster lover" He spat.He was going to shoot you.He was going to shoot you and you were going to fail at protecting the box's passengers.You looked at the box again. Tears gathering in your eyes as you're reminded of the incident from your past. "It's not fair..." You hear your heart beating in your chest. "It's not fair monsters are treated like this..." Another shuffle from the box.They were the same as everyone else!They have souls like everyone else!THIS IS JUST PLAIN RACISM! LITERALLY IN THIS CASE!You hear the guy snicker. "That's what they should be treated like, they're disgusting." He spat on the ground. "That's why they're called 'monsters'."A tear makes its way onto the cardboard as you hear him spew even more profanities about the kind creatures you had grown to enjoy having around."It's not right... They shouldn't treat you all like this..." You open your eyes again and realise that the box is more battered than you previously thought... Tears blur your vision, but you swear that you see a faint blue glow coming from a crack in the top.Another beat from your chest sounds and your vision fades more.You blink.
"Now, Leala..." Mother said as she cupped your hand. "You know what I always said?"
You nod, and she continues. "Good," She pauses for a while, looking at you with a gentle smile. "I look upon a star..." Your eyes light up slightly as you sing along with the lyrics of your song.
If you were going to die here, you wanted to do it with a smile. And you wanted to die doing the right thing, like she did.You shake yourself out of your memories, the truck was still parked but the engine was running. The wind blew from the open garage door, and your hair slightly swayed in the direction dust was blowing.You hear the man say "Bye bye" By the sound of his tone, you could just hear the smile.You look at the box as an idea comes into your mind."I look upon a star..." You started to sing. Well, it wasn't really singing, but you were doing something. The guy had confusion written on his face, but you didn't care. You wanted to remember Mother, and the kindness she taught you. And the courage she raised you with. "And I see night shift to day," Your voice trembled. How could it not?You continue as you hear a gun cock and a guy grunt in frustration."I feel the grass grow, And I hear you next to me:" You smile weakly at the crack in the box. This is the only thing you could do.You wanted to show them kindness, as your mother did to you."You are a blessing for my weak heart. You are the sunshine in the dark"A triumphant sound rings through the garage and then a laughter. It sounded crazed."You're the gift that I'll never part with..." You close your eyes. "You're the missing puzzle piece I needed."You hear the man bang the gun against the truck and laugh like he was meant to be in an asylum. He aims the gun, breathing calm... Like he'd done this before. You wouldn't be surprised if he had. A shot rings out as he fires the pistol.He misses."I'll be there when the sky is blue, or rather when it's any hue." Tears start falling as your body shakes.You hear another bang and a bullet whizzes behind your head, creating a sharp scratch on the back of your neck."I'll be here, with you." Another beating of your heart. You feel a tug in your chest as everything grows darker.You open your eyes and look down as a green glow emanates from... well, you don't know where. It seemed like it was coming from the box but you couldn't tell.You smile.The song was over."I'll protect you..." You pause as a BIG tap on your shoulder took your mind off the song... A bullet went through your shoulder.You shrug it off. (heh)But not literally though, you felt no pain so you didn't scream in it."I won't let them hurt you anymore." You stood up. A determined look on your face, despite the tears that were still falling.You don't even know how, but you did it. Yay.But then there's still the guy with the gun.You look at the man.He looks at you and grins."Leave them BE..." You stare at him. He stares at you."WHY? THEY'RE MONSTERS!" He screams at you. And the other guys apparently were drinking in the truck, they come sauntering out of it. Vomiting on the concrete.He raises the gun at you. The men on the floor got up and lazily pointed their guns at you.
Oh... They had those too...? Ah...haha...
You turn around, shielding the box with your body.A wobbly smile made its way to your lips. "My mother always told me that the greatest good will always be pursued by a harmful evil. Maybe this is what she meant...? Heh... It... It was nice to meet you, even though I don't know what you look like..." Tears fall and hit the top of the cardboard as you chuckle a bit. "I meant it though," You look at the box as your face softens into a gentle smile.
"When I said I'd protect you."
The guns shoot.But the bullets never made contact.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
But the bullets never make contact.You wait... Then flinch as another chorus of shots rang out again. Muffled pops explode around you, but other than that there was nothing.You open your eyes and looked up, confused. The wind was stronger now, and your hair was whipping in it.You hear muffled curses and shouts from around you, and then banging right next to your face. You flinch back as you see the man with the deep voice banging on nothing.
...What?
Then he yelled a few more words and gave up. Looking tired and cold, he walked over to the truck and got in the driver's seat.The others apparently gave up as well because they were already headed towards the truck as well.
What?
They drove off as everyone got in the car....
WHAT.
"W..." You couldn't speak properly. "Wha- I-" Only syllables came out, forming incoherent sounds. "I-" Then you remembered the box."Oh LORD" You looked at it; and the crack in the top was no longer there, the box looked less battered... It looked brand new actually. "Wait... I thought for sure that there was a...?" you shake your head as you knelt down to inspect the insides and make sure they were okay.You knelt down....You... Knelt down...... You can kneel?You look at your shins and realize that there is no injury whatsoever.Your shoulder is fine too."WHAT IN THE-" You cover your mouth with your hand and stop yourself from yelling.
Right, the box.
You don't open it up yet because you wanted to let them know you were going to open it. If you were in this situation, you would not want to be surprised anymore."H-Hey," You say looking down at the box. voice echoing slightly due to the space of which you were kneeling. "I know you don't know me, I'm sorry that you had to go through that by the way, um..." Great now it sounded like you didn't care. Oh no... no, no I care! Crap, I hope they don't think I don't..."Uh... Okay." You were just going to be honest. Ah, you thought of the color yellow just now. "My name is Leala Frost." Great. Doing good. "If you don't want me to open the box... Uh... Tap the inside of it." You pause for a split second, but then realize that: What if they can't?! "If you can I mean! I'm sorry if I sounded rude by asking you this much after you went through, probably literally hell, but I just want to make sure you're okay! I don't mean you any harm!" You bite your lip as you realize it was probably like you were shouting at them. you lower your voice. "I'm sorry, I yelled a bit..." The leftover tears fell on your lap as you looked down in shame.Your heart was pounding in your chest, so you barely heard the small tap on the inside of the box. You looked up in surprise. "...O-Okay. I won't open it then." You look around to see if those guys were back. "I do... um... Want to know if anyone is hurt." Then you realized that if you were in this situation, you wouldn't want to tell anything to anyone. "Oh no, I'm sorry! If you don't want to tell me I understand completely... Not your situation I mean! I don't know anything at all, but from what I saw, they were tossing you all around... And I assumed that since they were doing that you probably were injured, and I didn't..." You realized you were rambling. "Sorry, I just want to help..."You glanced back over to where the truck once was and glared.You pause for a long while."Why are we so evil...?" You wonder why people do this, why everything about the monsters is negative. "Hey-" You looked back at the box and saw the top fall down a bit. Were they going to get out...? You shook your head, trying to ignore that you saw it."I'm sorry." Your brown hair fell over your face as you remembered something, you decided to tell them. "One time, I drank a slushie too fast and got a brain freeze," Oh... Why am I telling this story...? You thought you heard chuckling, but you brushed it off. They probably didn't want you to hear that. "Then I started shouting 'AH BRAIN FREEZE' and everyone looked at me and laughed..." You looked ahead. "A tall monster, ran over to me saying to everyone 'WHY ARE YOU NOT HELPING? THIS HUMANS BRAIN IS FREEZING!', then he puts his hands on my head and they started to get warm. I was cured of my brain freeze and I thanked him." You paused. Then you realized you were crying again. Dang it... "The next day I heard a report on the news of a monster assaulting a human. It was him, and me, with his hands on my head." You heard a gasp, then a quick 'shh!'... But you paid it no mind.You hadn't realized you were shaking.Oh.You started to sob now.Great.Well, get it out while you can. "*hic* I mean why? Why *sniff* do we need to be so cruel to you all? It doesn't make sense!" Great, a puddle now formed of my tears... You then hear something open the box.You hear silent protests towards whoever did that."H...Human." You hear a quiet, but low voice jar you out of your thoughts. "There is no need to cry." You look up slowly, trying not to move too much. You opened your eyes...A small skeleton with what looked like a knight costume on stood warily in front of you. A tattered blue scarf was tied behind his neck in a haphazard bow. He had dark gray boots, blue lining the top of them. Simple gray pants, and what looked like gray plastic armor over a faded white T-shirt.He's so small... Like literally five inches.If it weren't for the situation, you would have been squealing about how cute he is.But not now...Now...?You just looked into his faded blue eyes(eye sockets?). Sorrow just bursting out of you SOUL as you heard the drip drip of your tears falling to the floor. "Yes, there is..." you replied, taking note of the flinch you got back from that answer. You spoke a bit more softly. "Those people..." A hint of anger crossed your mind, but you quickly silenced it in case it shown on your face. "They... I think those are the kinds of people I can never forgive." You look down. "Just hurting a monster because they're a monster." You shut your eyes, and ball your hands into fists. "Not caring about how the monster feels...? Or how much pain they are in?" You pause, looking at the ground. "It's not right!" You say in a slightly less inside voice.
O-Oh, wait oh no did I scare them?
You flinch as you think that, and look up slowly to see...Three.Three skeletons were standing on the box now.The little blue one was crying, his eyes brighter... somehow? He's looking up at you... Smiling. You blink away the blurry tears.There was another one, the same height as the little blue skeleton. He wore a blue hoodie, black basketball shorts, and pink slippers. His grin gave off a casual vibe, but you knew he was being cautious. You can tell when a smile is real.There was a taller skeleton, about six inches. He wore an orange hoodie with rust colored cargo shorts. Same relaxed-ish look as the blue hooded one. Wears orange sneakers. Hm... He reminds me of a carrot...You did an inner facepalm.Why is your mind so weird...?You didn't dare speak, for fear of making them afraid. So you just sat there and waited for them to do something. They all looked like they were ready for a battle.The little blue one spoke up first."H-Human!" He started saying. Honestly, you have no idea what you expect him to say. "We can feel that you mean us no harm!" You stare at him, stunned. Suddenly taking in how quickly it took for them to come out of the box.
Do they trust me? Or are they really good poker faces?
You had a feeling they didn't trust you. You had to do something to show them you weren't like those humans. So you started speaking, surprisingly. "I... I know you don't trust me." They glanced at each other but said nothing. "So I'm going to give you something." You see them all tense up, as you reach to unclip the golden chain around your neck.You pulled it out, and carefully held your mother's locket in your hands.You look to them, knowing your face must show some kind of reluctance, but you continue. "This necklace... It was my mother's." You say softly. They keep looking at you, but you know that they're listening. You slowly set the locket down on the ground and move it towards them. "This locket is..." You stopped yourself. closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Keep going, you can do this. " This locket is my treasure." You finally said. The little blue scarfed skeleton looked up at you, making a 'what-are-you-getting-at' face. But the other two stand there, silently glancing at the locket then back at you."If I hurt you," You feel the wind slowly die down until there is silence. "You can..." You pause, the last of the tears gone from your eyes as you look at them. "You can do what you want with it." You let out a shaky sigh, as you finally said what you wanted to."..." The blue hoodie one looked at the locket, then suddenly his left eye socket lit up with a blue and yellow light.Then he had the locket in his hands.You made a surprised sound as the... let's just call him scarf for now. Scarf looked at its sparkling exterior with blue eyes as bright as the locket itself. "W-Why are you giving this to us if it is so important to you Human?" He asked, looking up at you."To show you I mean no harm." You replied, remembering to keep your voice down. "If I do, you can do what you wish to it.""are you sure you want that?" The tall carrot one replied."Yes." You replied, even though you still cherished the locket, giving it to them meant that they had some leverage over you. Which probably gave them comfort.It also meant that you were serious about what you said.He looks at you, a small glow emanating from his right eye. Shrugging, he turns around. "whatever." Then out of nowhere a small bone appeared in front of the blue hoodie skeleton.He grabs the bone and is about to stab the locket-He is going to stab the locket.The one your mother gave you before she died.The locket that has your only picture of her inside...It was like every movement he makes is in slow motion, you can feel your soul sinking further into a pit of sadness every time the bone gets closer to the golden heart.You let out a whimper and close your eyes to save yourself from seeing her last remnant be destroyed.You wait for the sound of shattering metal... And wait... And wait...Eventually you look back up to see that the bone had stopped not even 1/3 of an inch from the golden surface."you really care about this uh... 'Locket', don't ya?" The bone holder asked.Your heart was beating so hard you barely hear the voice. You weakly nod your head."huh..." The bone disappeared from his hands as he looks up to you, putting his hands in his hoodie pockets. "welp." He glances to carrot- Why am I calling the tall one carrot...? - then over at the scarfed one.The little blue guy was fidgeting with his hands as he looked up with his adorable blue eyes and said, "Human!" You look at him and slowly start to calm down. The locket isn't broken... It isn't broken... As you think that, you hadn't noticed him walk closer to you until he put a hand on your knee. "I think we should trust you!" You look at him surprised. The other skeletons did too apparently, because carrot said something along the lines of: "Bro, seriously think about this." And hoodie over there said: "He's right..""Nonsense," Scarf turned around to face the other skeletons. "you felt it too!" They kind of blink(HOW), and mumble to themselves in reluctant agreement."F-Felt what...?" You ask hesitantly. The little guy in front of you turned around and said this, and I quote:"Your SOUL of course!""My..."
What?
...
MY WHAT?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
My...
WHAT?
"My... SOUL?" You blink, currently processing what he just told you. He nodded enthusiastically as stars appeared in his eyes....Stars.Again. HOW. "Yes, your SOUL!" He said, oh he was getting louder. Pretty loud for a bitty. Since they were so small, you would have assumed that they would be quieter, but nope, this guy was breaking the stereotypes. I feel proud somehow... "The very culmination of your being!" He smiled. How is he smiling wider...You nod, a bit confused, but you get it... Kind of.The only thing your mind could agree on describing this with, without having a brain malfunction is...
Mmmmagic! *Inner Jazz Hands*
"Wait... So do I have magic?" He nods, a bit slower than before. You widen your eyes in surprise and try to keep your mouth from spewing all the things rushing through your head right now.A confused look makes its way onto his face. "Did you not know?" You shake your head. He blinks a couple of times before turning to the other two. You hear him say something but couldn't make out all the words except for 'what this means'.The other two shrug.It was quiet for a bit."what did you think of before you came running towards the box?" Hoodie asks suddenly, breaking the silence."Uh..." You try to remember. "I wanted to save you from being run over..." They all look at you."r-run over?" Carrot asks. You nod. His face turns into a scowl. "those guys..." His eye lights a blazing orange."B-Brother!" Scarf said, going over to him kneeling down and rubbing his shoulder. "It's okay we aren't there anymore, Miss Leala saved us!" Carrot calmed down a bit and Scarf looked to you with a smidge of hope, but then it disappeared from his face as he blinked and just stared at you, was that... suspicion?"Guys." You said, voice normal now. They all flinch slightly at your volume but look at you nonetheless. "I know you went through a lot..." Hoodie narrows his eyes. "Though I don't know how much 'a lot' is... But-" You take a deep breath.
If I'm going to help them, I need to do something that...
...
Welp, first time for everything!
Never said this before! HAHA-
"I promise, that I won't hurt you."They all look at you, wondering what you are going to say next. But they couldn't have predicted this: "I swear on my SOUL." They all gasp slightly, staring at you in disbelief.
Sometimes what you read, can describe much more of what you mean than you think... Haha-
Then all eyes are looking at your chest as a green glow emanated from it.
Nothing surprises me anymore... But, I didn't expect ThIS oF All tHINGS.
"W-what??" You say suddenly as a small, hand sized heart drifts outward.It was like looking at a weird sunset that... glows in the form of a heart... Huh."H-HUMAN!" Scarf says, startled. But as they all look at the, uh, SOUL... They slowly quieted.Green and orange swirls surround a yellow centre glowing with a soft red light. Faint spider web cracks could be seen from where you're looking, outlined with a strong purple as they close onto the exterior of the glowing heart. Your SOUL glows in the dusty air, illuminating particles as they swish by, making them look like shining embers from a multicoloured fire. You all watch as your SOUL floats there, a slow thumping coming from it as if it was your heartbeat. Its mesmerising colours almost make you forget that you have three people in front of you.Almost.It was a minute until it finally started moving back to you, shyly going back into your chest.
Well.
That felt...
...
I don't know honestly.
"So you..." Carrot began saying, eye lights looking this way and that until finally settling on your face. "You were telling the truth...?" You look at him, and he is staring at you with wide eyes."Yes..." You reply as you look to the little scarf skeleton and see he's crying again, smiling with big bright stars in his eye sockets."HUMAN," He said, almost yelling. "YOU ARE THE KINDEST HUMAN WE'VE EVER MET!" You blink a few times before you blush, covering your face with your left hand."kindness, justice, courage, and..." Hoodie says as if talking to himself. He looks up and stares at you for a while. You look at him, eyes blinking as he gazed at you for what felt like forever.Only a few seconds."you really did want to help us, didn't you?"You nod. "I don't like seeing people bully monsters just because they're different than us." You furrow your brows at the thought of those guys... "And those men that did that to you," You looked over to the parking space that the truck had once been in, gaze turning icily cold. "I will Never forgive." You stare at the space until a 'cough' brought you back to reality and you blinked a few times. "Oh, I'm sorry..." Your face reddens a bit. "I space out sometimes.""THAT IS OKAY, HUMAN!" Scarf says as he looks at you with sparkling eyes.Literally, his eyes were sparkling.
I'm not even going to ask...
"so... what're you planning on doin' now...?" Hoodie asks, almost reluctant to hear your answer.You smile, looking at all of them."I-if..." Carrot and Hoodie man tense up. But little Scarf doesn't, he just beams at you. "If you wanted to... You could come with me to the Bitty Care Center, so we can see if any of you are sick or wounded." You see them relax. Only a small bit though. Until Scarf decided he wanted to laugh."MWEHEHE, HUMAN! WE DO NOT NEED TO GO TO A CARE CENTER! WE HAVE ALREADY BEEN HEALED!" He smiles at you again. Body partially illuminated by the sun that's beginning to set. How can this much cute be contained in a little body... Like, this should be illegal.
Wait, been healed?
"What do you mean?" You ask curiously. He puts his index finger and thumb on his chin in a contemplating manner. He looks up at you slightly confused, then back to Carrot."did you not know you were a mage?" Carrot bluntly asks."WHAT?" You say a bit loudly and they flinch at your volume. You apologise multiple times before Scarf finally got you to stop, assuring you it was okay. Then you continued. "A-a mage?" You look at Carrot, Hoodie, then finally Scarf who unsurprisingly, was sitting on your knee. Come to think of it, they don't have any injuries from what I can see...Hoodie nods. "Since they were..." He pauses, eye sockets going dim. " 'tossing us around', we would've had more injuries than this." He looks at you, eye lights going back to their usual brightness. Well, what you assumed the 'usual brightness' was. "You healed us.""W...What, how?" You couldn't help but ask. But you had to know.Your parents weren't mages at all, and you didn't have any magic growing up...So... How?"we didn't sense that your SOUL had magic before you came in contact with the box, so it must've happened while you were..." Carrot's eyesockets go wide as if in a realisation of something. "What you said before the bullets hit you," Hoodie seems to be catching on, because he raises his eye... brow bone whatever it is, in recognition."She must've just tapped into her SOUL's main trait when she said that..." He looks at you, curious. "Does 'I'll protect you.' mean anything special to you?"Your blood runs cold.
That's... Familiar somehow...
'I'll protect you...'
...
Oh.
"Hurry before you're too late!" She says, looking at you with eyes filled with fear for what's about to transpire.
You don't know what yet...
"But Mothe-!" You skidded to a stop in front of the train doors that were about to close and whipped your body around to see the three men holding guns. "I-I can't leave you here!" You said. Heart pounding in your ears as you glanced between your mother and the armed guys.
"It's okay Leala!" She assures you. It's not okay. She looks back at you with a smile. That's not a real smile Mom. She sees your expression and turns away. You heard her chuckle sadly. "I really can't tell a lie with you, can I?" With that, she sprints in front of you as you hear bullets fire.
You barely heard what she said.
"I'll protect you, my little star."
"MOM NO!"
A flash of green.
.
..
...
You held her in your arms, shaking as you waited for the police to arrive.
The men had gone, they had done the job they needed to and just left.
A boy and his father luckily found you, and called the police.
The police arrived 30 minutes later.
They almost arrived too late.
......(BACK TO PRESENT!)You feel a sharp pain on your cheek as you regained awareness."...MAN!"...Oh.You had passed out... Kind of?Great.Wait, who's voice is that?"...HUMAN!"What?"HUMAN!" You snapped to attention from the yelling in your right ear.Roll with it.You had fallen over on your side, and a concerned Scarf was looking at you, glowing cyan tears were flowing down his chubby face. Heh... Chubby... How is a skeleton chubby...?In your daze, you forgot the fact that they could possibly have a panic attack if they were even touched by you. You slowly reach your hand over towards him and use your finger to wipe away the tears. He freezes but doesn't do anything, looking at you with a face you can't discern the expression of.You hadn't realised you were crying until he walked closer to your face. " Hu-... Miss Leala," You were still in a daze so you didn't notice him calling you by your real name instead of 'human'. (FREAKING IMPORTANT NAME CHANGE, GOSH DANG IT.)"is she okay, bro?" You hear Carrot say, but you can't discern where the voice is coming from. "she looked pretty... spooked." Scarf is currently wiping the tears away from your eyes as he responded."I HOPE SO." It was quiet for a moment before you heard Bob's voice, and all the bitties tensed up at the sudden eruption of sound."Leala?!" Bob yelled as you heard his footsteps gradually getting closer. You slowly got up, using your arms to steady yourself as you resumed sitting. Not ready to stand up yet. Bob was now in front of you, staring wide-eyed at your state of being.Puffy eyes from crying.You were lying on the floor.A hole in your shirt where your shoulder would be.Oh.Oh, and blood.That too.Yeah.There was a LOT of things going through his mind.You can tell by the look on his face."What happened? Are you okay? Why are there bitties on the ground? Are they hurt? You've been crying, haven't you? Why are you bleeding?! Please for the love of GOD tell me what happened!" There are the questions."Bob." You say quietly, luckily he heard you and stopped talking. You pause for a moment to check on the little skeletons.Surprisingly they just stood there.Very still.
That's not good...
You silently sit there, giving looks to Bob if he was about to say something. The wind dies down a bit, now just a small breeze. Chancing it, you give another glance at the bitties on the ground.Still standing, motionless. They were all fixated on Bob.
Welp, change of plans.
"Bob..." Your eyes pleaded him to stay silent for a moment. "I'm okay, for some reason my wounds and theirs have been healed by some magic I didn't know that I possessed, but I am okay. Everything is okay. But you yelled and it scared them- they've been through a heck of a lot so... If you could go into the other room and I can talk with you later about this- I promise..." His mouth opened and closed, as if he was trying to say something but then decided against it. His eyes flicked down to the giant bloodstain on your shirt and back up at your face.Many emotions were passing through his face before he finally settled on resignation. "Okay. But you owe me two tubs of icecream and a whole night of talking and korean dramas." He says as he gets up and quietly turns around, walking back towards the door.You sigh in relief as you close your eyes for a moment."Miss Leala?" You turn and look at Scarf (I'm seriously thinking of naming him that now... OH WAIT-)"Y-yes?" You stammer, looking at Scarf's big eyes."We have never met a human so nice to us, there must be something that you want..." His permanent smile faltering a bit.OH.MY.GOSH.NO."No." You say.Immediately one of the others says something that proves your thoughts right."there must be something you want from us, humans aren't... that kind." Carrot says, pulling his orange hood up to cover his face. "what do you want...?" He doesn't sound like it, but you know he's hurting inside.You can feel it.But it seems that they have forgotten about seeing your SOUL.
Man, that thought hurt more than I thought it would... haha.
They all looked so defeated. It's like they gave up on life and resigned."The only thing I want is..." You pause, letting them all look up at you dejectedly. You smile warmly. "... Is for you all to be happy."They all blink."W-WHAT?" Scarf says surprised. Then slowly realises you're serious. "Really...?" He asks, quieter than what you heard before."Yes. I'm entirely serious." He looks at you like you're an angel. Then suddenly he jumps onto your chest and climbs to your shoulder, snuggling into your neck. You can hear him sniffling 'thank you's.The others look totally shocked and wait as if you were going to throw him off your shoulder.You try to smile, but what's going on in your head prevents you from doing so.But, you manage a small smile, although it vanished just as quick as it came.
What happened to them?
"What happened...?" You manage to squeak out, your SOUL just breaking at the thought of them on the streets. Such sweet monsters... Suddenly taken and thrown around in a box.Carrot looks at you, his expression clearly shows that whatever happened was very unpleasant.Hoodie stares at the concrete floor, eyes completely black.Scarf just starts sobbing.You can't take it anymore."Do you all... Have a home?"They all look at you shocked, then suspicious, then confused and suspicious.Scarf stops sobbing and is slowly calming down. He moves his head to look at your face, cyan tears still falling on your shoulder, but the downpour slowly decreasing as he looks at you.Then Hoodie suddenly asks this."do you want to adopt us?" Adopt? Like as in a pet? ... DO THEY THINK OF THEMSELVES AS PETS...
...
"Do you think of yourselves as pets?" You reply, voice tinged with sadness. They look at you, eyes devoid of emotion as they silently nodded their skulls. Yeah... Yeah, they do.Scarf wasn't crying, or at least he wasn't sniffling anymore. You assumed he was still looking at you.
Screw it.
I can't do this.
"I will never think of you as pets." You say, looking at them.Hoodie opens his mouth to say something, but you continue before he has a chance to say anything."You are monsters, not as in the insult 'you are a monster' but as in the kind, sweet, and caring monsters." You start to shake a little, tears brimming your eyes, but you don't care. "All the monsters I have met, have treated me with such kindness, even though I'm a human." You sniffle and give up on trying to stop the tears from flowing."I want to treat you all the same as you treat me, I want everyone I meet to be happy when they leave the convenience store, instead of being bombarded with insults at every corner they turn. I want you all to be treated as equals instead of the way you're being treated now. You all have SOULS just like us, I just don't understand why some people have to be so horrible to you all..." You close your hands into fists.You blink away some of the tears from your eyes and stare at the ground. "Humans treat monsters like filth, so I don't expect any kindness from the ones I do meet, but I get it anyways." You didn't notice that Scarf had climbed down and was on the floor with the others, and they were all staring at you. "And they greet me with a smile every time, even if other humans are looking at them with sneers as they ask how my day has been. I want to give monsters hope, I want to give everyone hope that one-day things will be peaceful. That one day everything will change, people will change. That one day they will see how kind and nice you monsters really are. And that they were been wrong about treating you the way that they did. Even if I can only do simple things like wishing them a good day, or telling them thank you... That could mean so much to them." You shake your head and look at them, not noticing the shocked expressions they wore and the tears in their eyes. Just trying to get your feeling across. "So if you think I will harm you, leave you alone in the streets, or think of you as pets, I Promise you with all of my self..." You put a hand on your heart roughly, feeling the wetness of your tears on your t-shirt as you stare at them, feeling every fabric of your being shiver as you let your emotions pile out into these last words. "I will Not. I'm never going to leave you alone to die. No one else will harm you while I'm still alive. I will protect you with everything I have." You sniffle and give a determined look at the three. "You're stuck with me now." You take a moment to realise what you just said, Oh...
Oh... Well then...
Uh...
Well, I said what I felt. You stare at them for a full minute before blinking and rubbing your eyes with your hoodie sleeve. Looking back up at them you realise-Right now you were looking at three crying skeletons.But three smiling, and crying skeletons.And these smiling and crying skeletons were looking at you with pure...
Joy.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
These smiling and crying skeletons were looking at you with pure...
Joy.
It wasn't long before Scarf tackled you, followed by two other crying skelles."Wha- oof!" They were actually strong for how small they were. You fell on your back and looked at them, surprised."MISS LEALA!" Scarf yelled at you with enthusiasm of a trumpeting elephant. "YOU... YOU!" He can't finish the sentence because he just starts crying on your shoulder, any words he might be saying are muffled as he snuggles into your neck.Carrot and hoodie were on your chest, both looking at you with tears running down their skulls. But... They weren't sad.No.The opposite in fact.They were smiling like they never had before.You could just feel it.They started to move closer to your face but stopped in their tracks when they looked above you, fear evident in their eyes.You look up.Oh.
Oh no.
Apparently, the people who rode back in the truck decided to leave one of their partners in crime behind."WHaddaya doin' with our bittiesss?" He slurred his words, bleach blonde hair flopping in his face whilst he looks down at you.He started reaching down.You glance at Carrot, Hoodie and Scarf quickly before making a decision.They were clinging to your hair for dear life.You weren't going to let this happen to them again...You quickly sit up, dodging the drunken man's hand as you stand. You were about the same height, he looked like he was about to vomit his entire bowels on you before his face changed into a sneer."You keeping them?" He said too calmly for his drunk state. "Those... Things." He pointed at them lazily, and you could feel the magic crackling around you as you stared at him, making a great effort not to punch him in his ugly face.You were getting very angry at this man."If they so wish, they can stay with me for as long as they want to." You say, slightly directing this to the small bitties on each of your shoulders. You feel the stares of their eyes but you continue. "And..." Taking a step forward, face practically glowing red with anger as you glared at him. "They are not things."He started laughing hysterically. "YOU THINK THEY AREN'T, HA!" He steps towards you with an uneven gait. "WELL," He stares at you with madness in his eyes, as he continues forward. "THEY'RE ARE. SO COME OUT OF YOUR FANTASY AND SEE THE REAL REASON WHY THEY SHOULD ALL JUST DIE." He blinks at you and turns around, wobbling on his unsteady feet.
Ha.
Ha.
Freaking.
Ha.
Oh, he's gonna pay.
Before you know it everything around you goes black, and your SOUL is launched out of your chest towards that man.You just wanted to slap him.Oh wait.Nope, your SOUL did it for you, never mind.he went rocketing into the wall a couple of feet away from him.You were suddenly greeted with an option to CHECK.
Sure, why not.
Drunken Lunatic:HP 7/20DF 10AT 30Thinks monsters should die because his wife fell in love with one, and they eloped.Huh.Interesting.He twitches, but other than that he doesn't move his face from the wall. He whimpers slightly and the blackness around you dissipates.A small box appeared in front of you:Congratulations! You earned nothing.You ignore what it says and focus on the other thing at hand.Your SOUL moves back into your chest and you sigh, feeling whole once again. You walk over to the trembling man, stopping in front of his shaking form."Hey." He flinches at the sound of your voice, so that means he knows you're there. "You know how you just got slammed into a wall?" Wow, way to be blunt. You see him acknowledge you with a quick nod. "You also know that box you tossed around, right?" He slowly answers this time with a quiet 'yes...'. "It hurt to be slammed into a wall once. Think about what it must be like to get slammed into a wall multiple times as you were thrown around by three grown men." He shivered."I can't imagine that." He said, starting to calm down. He looks at you, no, he looks at the bitties standing on your shoulders. "Because I'm not a monster." He spits venomously.You feel a boiling rage wrap around your very being and a red glow emanates from your chest, the sound of your heart beating in your ears could probably be heard by the little ones you carried with you, but you pay it no mind. The anger towards this disgusting excuse for a human being almost takes over your mind, but a small voice in the back of your head reminds you that you have to stay calm. For the lil' guys who have already been traumatized as it is.Time for that sick comeback you always dreamt of making yourself. "Good thing you aren't a monster then-" He stares at you before slapping his knee in mirth."I knew ya had it in ya! EVERYONE HATES MONSTERS EVEN IF THEY DON'T SAY SO AT FIRST!" He laughs loudly."-because if you were a monster, you'd be the first of whom to receive a punch in the face by me." He looks at you confused but then realises what was going to happen a bit too late. Your fist collides with his face, knocking him out immediately. The crimson hue fades from your chest and you huff, walking away.Your car is parked just outside(PLOT CONVENIENCE THAT'S WHY) of the garage. You decide to go ahead and-You feel the bitties on your shoulders shaking.
Oh no... Are they okay??... Did I scare them...?
Your steps grow quieter as you slow your pace and the rattling of small bones echoed throughout the car garage."Are you all okay?" You ask softly, voice laced with concern. "Did I..." You look down, hair falling over your face in shame as you said the next words. "Did I scare you?" You say finally."OH..." You hear Scarf say as if he was in a daze for a minute. "OH NO! YOU DIDN'T SCARE US MISS LEALA!" He quickly reassures and you look at him out of the corner of your eye. "WE JUST..."He doesn't finish, but you hear Hoodie sigh next to your right ear."we've just never had someone get that mad for us and not... at us." You feel Hoodie lean onto your neck, relaxing slightly."yeah..." Carrot says looking up at you. You smile sadly."I'm... I'm sorry." You immediately feel their eyes on you. "I'm so sorry you had to go through whatever you did..." You shake a little. "I'm sorry they threw you around in the box... If I had done my errands earlier, maybe I could've stopped them from doing that sooner and you wouldn't have had to go through all that. I'm sorry that I couldn't-" You get stopped by a small skeletal hand pressed against your lips. It was Scarf."LEALA." He stared at you a bit. "YOU..." His voice grew suddenly quiet as he paused for a long while. "Why are you so nice to us?" He asks."What?" You ask, blinking and trying to figure out if you had heard him correctly."why are you so nice to us?" His brother repeated. Something in his voice...Your heart, or rather, I guess SOUL now, just wanted to come out and comfort them until they feel safe. A gentle smile made it's way onto your face as you take in the expressions on their faces. They have been through a lot, it makes sense that they would still be suspicious of your motives."Because..." You try to picture yourself looking at all of them to help you focus on speaking to everyone. "I want to be." You look up and breathe in the fresh-ish air.Then you remember something."Oh, by the way," You say while looking ahead. "Where's the locket? I didn't see you holding it when the guy came." Hoodie looks up at you and grins."it's in my inven-Tori." You want to look at him, but if you did that then you would completely push him off of your shoulder with your chin. So you don't, Instead, you make a confused sound as you hear quiet snickering and a groan from your right.Hoodie sighs, realising you won't get it. (Raise your hand if YOU got it hehehe) "i shrunk it with magic. i'm wearin' it now." Hoodie says. Well, that's a first...
As long as it's safe.
"Tibia honest, I'm kind of confused. But I think if I knew what inven-Tori meant, that pun would be a real rib tickler." You say while looking ahead with an expression of amusement while you continue walking.You hear a groan of frustration in your left ear. "NO! NOT LEALA TOO!" Scarf says, putting a hand on his forehead as he looks down.And then you hear laughing from both of the others. "hey, those were pretty Gouda." Carrot chuckles."Really?" You ask, a smug grin on your face. "I thought they were a bit cheesy." You finish, just as an 'MWWWEEEEHH!' comes from your left shoulder and you feel a sharp 'TAP' on your neck. But you didn't flinch, you have quite the pain tolerance.You hear a gasp come from Scarf. "OH MY GOODNESS LEALA ARE YOU OKAY? I'MSORRYIHITYOUAREYOUHURT!?" The next bit he says is so fast, it's unintelligible."Woah Woah, calm down, it's okay!" You say hurriedly as he was frantically trying to apologise and check to see if you were okay at the same time. He seems to calm down after you assure him that you were alright. "I'm fine." You smile kindly at the small skeleton, silently appreciating his concern and care for your well being.You turn your gaze back upwards and saw that you had reached your car before you had even realised it. You wait, trying to decide if you should take them with you."Do you want to come with me to the care centre?" They all fell silent, save for the slight breeze that ruffled your semi-long hair. Scarf spoke up after a minute of just standing in front of the vehicle."We Trust You, So It's Okay." He says. Quieter than normal again... He sits down on your shoulder and waits for you to open the car door.You hesitate."Are you sure?" You wanted them to be comfortable, and if sitting down in your car would make them less so, you wouldn't do it. "We can walk there if you want?" Hoodie and Carrot look at each other and then back at you."would that be okay?" Carrot asks, hesitance clear in his voice."Of course!" You say with a cheerful grin, as if it's the most obvious thing ever.They all stare at you for a long time before breaking out into silent crying."LEALA YOU... YOU REALLY ARE THE KINDEST HUMAN WE'VE EVER MET..." Scarf said, clutching a bit of your hair and hugging it. Your cheeks start to get warm as you decide to distract yourself from that fact by starting to walk to the Bitty care centre. Goodness me, these bitties..."if it wasn't for you, we would've..." Carrot looks up at you, eyes spilling over with orange tears. "We would have died." He says as if the realisation just hit him. "we would have died in that box if you hadn't come..." He clutches the top of your T-shirt sleeve, grabbing on like at any moment, time would reset itself, and they would be right back where they started. "t-thank you...""you really are a kind human." Hoodie says. "but you know how it is for us to trust people." He looks at you and pauses before smiling. "i think you're the first human that we know will stay true to their word. 'cause we all felt it." He closes his eye sockets as you feel the others on your right shoulder nod. "You have a centre of justice paired with kindness, courage, and determination." He opens his eye sockets to reveal his eye lights a bit brighter. "you definitely have a unique SOUL.""Hm..." You nod, looking straight ahead again. "Well, everyone has a unique SOUL." You say with a smile. Then you remember there is a giant blotch of blood on your shoulder. "O-oh geez... Beter cover that up." You chuckle nervously, quickly fiddling with your keys as you press a button and the window rolsl down so you can grab your jacket from inside. you press the button again and start to walk away from the vehicle.You kneel on the ground and bring your hands up to cup the small monsters on your shoulders, they made no fuss and you gently set them on the ground before you took your jacket and slipped it on. It was leather so the blood shouldn't be able to be seen even if it seeped through slightly. You offered your hands to the smol skellies again and they hopped onto your palms, Scarf smiling wide, Hoodie and Carrot just standing while you elevate them to your shoulders. They all got back to their previous positions and you started to walk to the place of interest. You stop in front of the care centre. Man, that was quicker than I thought it would be..."Now are you sure that you want to go in?" You ask as you stay in place, the wind from the south sending a warm trickle of air through the gaps in your hair."well, we came all this way." Carrot says, sitting up and then settling to lean on your neck "why waste time going back?"You nod, agreeing. He has a point."AND IT WILL BE OKAY BECAUSE WE HAVE MISS LEALA WITH US!" You feel him hugging your shoulder and nuzzling against you. You hear slight movement as the others nod in agreement, relaxing against your neck.You feel your SOUL swell with... Love.It's been a while since you've been this happy."Well then, better late than never!" You say with a grin, you hear a faint chuckle come from Hoodie.You push open the doors and walk inside.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
You pushed the doors open and entered.Immediately you felt warm air gently cascade your face as you take in the environment.In the centre of the facility were two long shelves stocked with different types of clothing and necessities. Little pens on either side of the store held bitties for adoption, some of the little ones in the front pen waved at you and smiled. You awkwardly wave back and started for the desk in the back. You didn't notice the three skeletons grab onto you tighter."Hello dear, what can I help you with?" A rabbit monster asks you, then she notices your little friends. "Ah, did you want to adopt them?"You cringe at the word 'adopt'.She notices your expression and stares at you, confused."Um, actually..." You start. Here we go! No turning back now! HAHA- This is so nerve-wracking... "I found these guys in a box... Outside." You didn't want to mention what they went through in that box when there were people around. Really, you didn't want to tell anyone... But if it comes to it that what happened might've affected their health-"Oh, they were strays?" She asks innocently. Strays..."They..." You pause, looking at her. You were going to stand up for these little ones even if it meant that you might be ridiculed or harrassed. They need someone to depend on through all this, especially since they've been through so much- they didn't need to go through any more pain. You didn't want them to. "They aren't pets."The rabbit monster stares at you while blinking a moment, before chuckling and looking down."Oh... Hehe." She looks back up, a genuine smile on her face. "Nobody really says that anymore... Thank you." She puts a hand... Uh, Hand-paw on the back of her neck, rubbing it shyly. "It's nice to see people who treat them like people, most humans whom I've come across, will adopt a bitty. But then come back and drop it off, saying it misbehaved too much." She looks at you sadly. "But really, they didn't treat them as actual beings. They treated them like they would a dog." She grimaces, looking down again as she brings a hand-paw to her face."I would never do that." Your voice seems to echo in your mind, but it's the tone of it that causes her to look up quickly."..." She hesitates for a moment but continues, looking at you with a kind smile. "You know, you have a very expressive SOUL."You blink.
What?
What is it with monsters and SOULs?
Four monsters have told me that now, it's gettin' kinda weird...
She notices you looking at her strangely and puts up her hands, waving them. "I-I mean that when you spoke, your SOUL did too!" She says quickly."How did you hear it?" You ask curiously, taking in the smile that appears on her face soon after you say that."Well, it's because monsters are made of magic! They can sense other magic, too. And if a feeling of another person is strong enough, a monster can feel the emotions of that person. If the person does not have a barrier of course." She continues. You hear footsteps stop behind you and turn- Oh, we have gathered the attention of a few people. They probably don't like crowds... I hope the little ones can hold on for a bit. You remain calm, hoping it would calm them down as well. "And if they are bad emotions, it could lower a monster's HP, depending on how much the person feels." She smiles. "But, with good feelings, a person could protect and probably heal the injuries of the people that their emotions are directed at. But that's just a theory..." She trails off as she notices the several people who had come to listen. "Oh! Oh, I was rambling, I'm sorry! Here come with me." She gestures for you to follow her, an apologetic look on her face as she leads you behind the front counter. She opens a door with a sign that says 'Counseling Room' hanging on a little tack.You follow her through the door and look to see a table and two chairs against a cream coloured wall to your far left. A giant grey fluffy rug lay on a dark wooden floor panelling below you, and pictures of happy monsters and humans holding their own designated companions in their arms were hung on the walls."So, you said you found them in a box outside, correct?" The bunny monster says while sitting down and gesturing to a chair in front of her."Uh... Yes." You say sitting down. You fidget with your hands, not knowing what to do with them.She pauses to study your face before frowning sadly. "They were in the box because they were left behind, or were they in the box because of abusive humans?" You look up from your hands, a slightly surprised expression on your face. Maybe she has dealt with this kind of thing before?You look to the bitties on your shoulders before continuing."Y-yes..." You say hesitantly. The guilt is holding your SOUL with an iron grip. "I didn't want to say it in front of all those people... I felt like they would judge them and... I didn't want them to go through that. I know how it feels to be judged harshly because of how you lived, it's not pleasant..." You look at her as a dismal chuckle escaped your lips. You think back on all the horrible things that your race did to the monsters. "Humans suck, huh?" She looks at you and just gives a sad smile."Well, I won't disagree, but..." She grins a bit happier this time. "There are humans who come here, that give me hope that everything will be better. Humans like you." She puts a Hand-paw on yours that you didn't know was on the table. "Even though I don't see them often, I still see them." A warm expression crosses her face as she glances at the little ones huddling behind your long hair. Her eyes turn back to and an emotion you can't discern flashes across her features. She shakes her head, getting back to the point and removing her hand from yours."Where did you find them, and what happened?" She began questioning you. Which would have been completely normal, considering it's her job to find out the information regarding these bitties, but that didn't make your heart stop pounding in nervousness."I found them at my workplace." You begin, slowly forgetting the slight panic from a few seconds ago. "They were in a box, being tossed around. The box was flimsy. Well, it looked to be flimsy from where I was standing." You glance over to the small skeletons on your shoulders, it seemed they were all right... You kept going. "I wanted to help them... So I did." You don't want to go into the fact that you apparently have magic but if it helps explain how you got them out of that situation, then you would. Can't have her start being suspicious of you now, can you?"I ran at them saying no, but they had thrown the box a few feet away from the truck they had... So I was able to reach it." You look down, hands fidgeting again. "I ran and picked it up, but then I realized that doing a slide on your knees on the concrete wasn't a good idea. I injured my knees." You made a face, and the bunny stifles a soft chuckle. "There was a guy with a gun-" You hear the bunny woman choke, stopping the quiet laughter from before completely. You kinda feel bad that you changed the topic from amusing to serious in one go, but that's actually what happened and it wasn't like you were gonna lie to this poor woman. You continue, grimacing at the thought of those men still out in the world. "I got shot but after that, they left. I'm positive that he shot me but... I'm not harmed. And I also apparently healed the bitties that were in the box." You gesture to the forms covered in your hair. "I just wanted them to be okay, I didn't want them to be hurt so..." You trail off as you see her expression."You're a mage?" She asks incredulously. You nod, but you still don't accept that fact yet. If it is even a fact. "Oh wow!" She sits up suddenly and you feel the bitties jump. You put a hand up to them, telling them that it's okay and everything is alright. They suddenly seem to relax on your shoulders, you smile happily. Thank goodness.She seems to notice the little bitties and apologises profusely to them. It took Scarf to speak up, his voice was shaky and quieter than when he spoke with you, but he got his point across that it was okay. The bunny monster looks down in shame and sits back on the chair again. She coughed and looked at you. "So they are not from a care centre or do they have an owner-" You both cringe at the word 'owner'. "-as far as you know?"You shake your head.If those people were their previous... You can't even think of the word.
... I hope they weren't.
Haha... If they were...
H a .
h a .
She seems happy with your response because she lets out a relieved sigh."I'm so glad, Oh my dear goodness..." She looks at you, before looking at the partially uncovered forms underneath your hair.She pauses and thinks for a bit before slapping her palm with her fist as if an idea came into her head. "Would you like to stay with her?""Yes." "yes." "yes."
Wait what.
"Then that is settled!... If you want them to stay with you that is?" You take a moment to respond, a stunned expression on your face.
What.
Maybe you're waiting too-"OF COURSE!" You say quickly. Your stunned expression turning into a smile.You hear Scarf gasp, and the others chuckle lightly."Well then, you need some supplies before you go back home of course." The bunny has a smile on her face as she chuckles. She gets up and you follow her out of the small room, back to the front of the store.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~TIIIIIMMMMEEEE SKIIIIPPPPPP YEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~You had gotten everything.And everything consisted of clothing for the little guys and some other stuff. You had let them pick out the clothing of course. They were a bit hesitant at first, but they eventually told you which ones to get.You had to sign a few papers, but since you found them outside of a care centre, you didn't have to fill out adoption forms. And she had told you before everything was finished "They're pretty comfortable with you already, I wouldn't want to take them away from you now that they have gotten adjusted." So now you were on your way home.With three bitties on your shoulders, and your arms filled with bags of supplies.what could go wrong?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
With three bitties on your shoulders, and your arms full of bags with supplies, What could go wrong? (I agree, Lea... What could go wrong?) ~Le Fast Forward Fifteen Minutes~ You reach your apartment at about 6 PM without much trouble.Getting in the apartment isn't that hard either, even while carrying the multiple bags with your arms. The stuff inside of the bags isn't that heavy either, so that's a plus.You unload the bags off of your arms gently and decide to show the mini skeletons around the apartment. They cling to your hair like it's the very thing holding them on this planet. After you walk around a couple times and the bitties ask some questions about, well everything, they seem to calm down a bit and slacken their death grip on your hair strands.Well at least one of them.You hear frustrated grunting from your left shoulder and glance your eyes in that direction. It seems that carrot had gotten threads of your hair in between his little hands. You chuckle to yourself at the cuteness of it, not noticing the embarrassed orange flush that graced his face soon after. "Do you need some help?" You offer, smiling at them while you knelt in front of your counter so they could get off. Hoodie saunters off, looking around with his white eyelights and surveying everything. Scarf hops onto the marble surface and runs around in circles a few times. Carrot just steps onto it like it was the same surface, successfully getting his hand out of the prison of your hair. He 'Nyeh's to himself and walks over to a nearby napkin holder and leans against it, then slowly sliding down and sitting.You smile and walk over to your blue couch, sitting down on the plush leather. The quietness that permeated the air as you all did your own thing was uhm... Was great....You twiddle your thumbs....Nope it's extremely awkward.The silence was broken by Scarf as he slid down the back of the couch and plopped next to you, they had gotten off of the counter it seemed- Well, aside from Carrot who was still lounging against the napkin holder. Hoodie climbed up your arm and found his usual spot next to your neck and nestled himself there while Scarf jumped on the fluffy couch. "Oh! This is a very comfortable sofa." He exclaimed happily. "Brother you have to come here, it is very soft." You hear a 'pop' sound and then a quick inhale as Carrot appeared next to Scarf. His brother apparently.He flinches and slowly turns around, you feel Hoodie tense against your neck, but you couldn't pinpoint the reason why. "I didn't know you two were brothers. Well, I guess you learn a new thing every day." You say happily, but softly as well. You didn't want to scare them all over again.You finally look down to see him staring at you weirdly, you tilt your head in confusion. "you're... you're not mad?" Carrot asks warily.You blink a couple of times, trying to see if you heard him right. "Mad?" He nods slowly. "Why would I be mad?"The confusion on your face is easily noticed by the little skeletons. But they were... Hesitant?
Mad?
Why does he think I'm mad?
...
Wait.
Wait a minute-
Your eyes widen and your confused look drops entirely as the gears in your mind begin to turn.
Those men must've done so much to them that they wouldn't even allow them to use their magic? To the point of flinching when seen using it... But magic is a part of a monsters being!
That's like telling humans not to walk, it doesn't make sense...!
You feel a tear fall from your eye as you stare at him, shock and concern plastered all over your face.Scarf keeps his gaze on you, an obscure emotion on his skull. There is a sudden change in the room's atmosphere, but you don't notice it.
What did they do to these skeletons...?
You remember he asked you a question. Questions have to be answered oh my goodness-"I'm not mad." You say simply, bringing your hand up to rub your nose. It had gotten a bit runny while you were in your thoughts. You sniffled slightly. "I won't be mad if you use magic, at least that's what I assume it was." A sad frown made its way onto your face as you continued. "I'm not like those other 'people'..." You look over to your window on the other side of the room, grey light shown through the half-open blinds, bathing the coffee table and sofa in a dusty light."O-Oh! No, we know that Miss Leala! It's just-" Scarf trails off, his perpetual smile faltering. Your face turns back from the window to the two in front of you, and you see Scarf's expression shift into one of suppressed fear. "It's just that we..." The smile leaves his face and his eyelights fade to white pinpricks."we weren't allowed to use magic with them." You hear Hoodie say the word 'them' like it's poisonous. "every time we did, we'd be... p u n i s h e d." You feel the air next to your neck become cold. Carrot's face turns downward and he pulls his hood over his skull.
p-punished...?
The tense air around you just seemed to get thicker, like you were underwater but you could still breathe. The look in their eyesockets...
Nope.
Nope.
I'm not doing this. I can't-
NO.
"I'm not going to ask what happened. Because I can clearly tell that it hurts you when you even think about it." You look at them, trying to be brave for their sake. I have to stay strong... "But... That doesn't mean it won't affect me as well when I see you guys like this." Your gaze silently turns downward as your hands lie motionless in your lap.You don't notice the pitter-patter of raindrops on the windowsill as your eyes continue to have a stare-down with your fingers. "It hurts... Seeing you with those looks in your eyes." You eventually do notice, however, that the wind is now blowing quite fiercely outside."Even though I met you only just today, I feel like I need to stay with you guys." You chuckle a bit. "I know, that sounds weird doesn't it?" Your mind wanders back to those abhorrent people that were back in the parking garage. "And if those people from before come back again..." A flash of memory goes through your mind for a brief moment. "They'll regret it..." You clench your fists. "Because they'll have to go through me to get to you."After a second you blink and get a hold of yourself, before you could apologise, you notice that their eyes are wide, looking at your chest where your SOUL would be. You hear rain pattering on the window, harder than before. It interrupted your train of thought and caused you to look toward your window. You hear a big clapBOOM! from outside your apartment building, followed by an even stronger downpour of rain. Your eyes widen and you try to calm your racing heart. Oh geez that was a scare...Hoodie grabs your neck tightly, his claws sink into your skin as if he could fall away any moment. Scarf scrambled towards you, going underneath your jacket and motioning Carrot to come over as well. Carrot teleported next to him immediately. They must've never dealt with a thunderstorm before. Not that you have too many experiences either, especially with one of this scale...You pick up the TV remote that was lying on the left side of the couch and click the power button, turning the Television on. You leave one hand available in case the others needed something to ground themselves. Which Scarf and Carrot both did. They held onto your hand with pure terror. Another thunderclap rings out and shakes the house. You try and stay calm, putting down the remote and listening to the weather report."It's falling down pretty hard. High winds and hail are descending onto the southwest region near Ebbot. It'll hit the Glades a bit lighter than last year, but I pray for the people who live closer to the mountain."
It'll be okay... It'll be okay... Just because my apartment complex is right next to the forest connected to the mountain doesn't mean that it'll be worse than last-
CLAP-
BOOM!!!
You flinch, jolting Hoodie somewhat out of his position. You hear a terrified scream come from where he was positioned and felt guilt weigh your heart down into your stomach. "S-Sorry... I'm sorry..." You try and calm yourself down. It wouldn't help if you yourself were panicking because it would do nothing but make them panic as well.You take in a deep breath, exhaling through your mouth and doing the same thing three times. Breathe in... Breathe out...You try and tell them what was happening. "It'll be over soon, this happens sometimes, but it isn't forever. I promise." Your voice is only just above the sound of the heavy rain falling against the outer walls of your apartment. "It's called a thunderstorm. But the weathercaster said that it had hail this time." You hope explaining what it was could help them calm down a bit, so you tried to do it as best you could. "Hail is small balls of frozen rain. And usually it doesn't get larger than a golf ball, but in very rare cases it can. That's in rare cases, and I'm positive that they aren't that big right now. That's why it's called 'rare'."You keep your tone of voice calm, picking up Carrot and Scarf and holding them to your chest. Their bodies scrambled closer to you, tensely coming to a stop above your sternum. Scarf laid his head down above your breastbone and closed his eyes. Carrot soon followed suit and did the same. Their scared faces shifted slowly into a more calm expression, listening to the sound of your heartbeat and breathing.Or maybe it was your Soul they were listening to?It would make sense... Since it's magic. Yeah it was probably your soul that they were listening to.Hoodie was slowly letting go, emphasis on slowly. It was like he was barely moving, but the relief of that stinging in your neck kinda told you he was at least slightly calming down... Hopefully. You continued. "The loud booms you hear is called Thunder. It's normal to be loud, but sometimes when it's right above you, it can sound like it's everywhere. But a storm never stays in one place forever." The rain reached an even pace, and the hail was no longer tapping loudly on the window. You were used to giant spurts of rain, that's just how it's like there. Thunderstorms were somewhat less normal since they only came either in between winter and spring or in between fall and summer, where cold meets warm. You continue where you left off, noticing that the rain was slightly letting up. "Where would all that water come from if that happened? The water in clouds isn't infinite, they're just releasing the heavy droplets of water that they carry for a set amount of time." You look up at the window, smiling slightly. "It'll be alright, we just need to wait it out a bit." You chuckle. "Interesting housewarming party, huh?" An apologetic expression claimed your face and you sigh. "I'm sorry, I should have checked the weather forecast beforehand..."It was a long while until anyone spoke up.That is, until Carrot did."it's alright, human- er... leala." His small skeletal hand pats your chest and you look down, watching his face for any kind of fear. Luckily there was none and you relax slightly, glad that they weren't scared of the rain anymore. "you wouldn't have been able to prevent this from happening, anyway. it's not like you can control the weather." He suddenly puts a hand to his chin and gives a contemplative expression. "or is that one of your abilities?" He says with a sarcastic grin. You let out a lighthearted laugh."No, I'm pretty sure I can't control the weather of all things! Heheh!" Your eyes scrunch up in your mirth. "Speaking of, I think the rain is letting up a bit. Maybe it'll stop soon?" You look at the window again and see that it's just a light shower pittering against the windowsill. A movement on your shoulder close to your neck made you slightly turn your head."d...don't move...please." You heard Hoodie say, so you didn't move, like he asked. "i-i hurt y-you..." He started to sniffle. You wanted to reassure him that you were perfectly fine, but before you could, Scarf clambered up to where Hoodie was."Oh mY STARS-! Let Me Help You Heal That, Goodness Me!" A warm buzzing vibrated against your skin. It was pleasant, like the pop rocks candy you put in your mouth except it was on your neck, and it wasn't candy. Were they using magic? "That..." You close your eyes, smiling a bit at the feeling coming from the magic. Just the idea that they would do this for you... How sweet. "That's really kind of you both... Thank you." You feel your cheeks heat up slightly as you look upward. The crackly feeling stopped and Scarf and Hoodie remained on your shoulder for a bit, you could feel like they were moving, but other than that nothing was said. Eventually, Scarf slid down your shoulder, Hoodie following closely after. They land next to Carrot who had fallen asleep while listening to your breathing. A contented expression lay on his features as he slept, soft snores of 'nyeh' flowing out of his mouth every now and then. Aww... Cute."I'M SORRY MISS LEALA! MY HOODED FRIEND ACCIDENTALLY HURT YOU WHILE HE WAS PANICKING, PLEASE FORGIVE HIM! HE MEANT NO HARM!" Scarf says in his usual loud voice, bowing down in apology. It seemed he didn't think to be a little quieter while his brother was sleeping. Maybe Carrot can sleep through anything?You smile. "I wouldn't hold anything against him. People can do many things while their scared, it's natural dear, don't worry." A gentle smile carries its way onto your features and you look back at your window, being silent for a bit until a question suddenly popped into your mind."Hey, are you guys hungry?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Hey, are you guys hungry?"The question slipped out before you could even think about it. Though you did promise Bob you would tell him everything later... But now wouldn't be a good time. Considering the circumstances. 1. It rained a hell of a lot.2. The bitties were terrified.3. They're recovering from a lot.4. Just FREAKIN'- A LOT HAPPENED AND NOW'S NOT THE TIME.
I can at least message him and tell him I'm okay though, that's the least I could do.
But after, what, dinner? What time is it?You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone, pressing the power button and turning it on. "Holy crap it's 9:00... I didn't even realise." You pocketed your phone in your leather jacket. "Time passes quickly, huh?" You smile enthusiastically. "Let's get some foodage shall we? What would you guys like?" You direct your attention to them and see Scarf holding his gloved hands above his T-shirt where his stomach would be."We... We Haven't Eaten In A While..." He looks up at you, eyelights sparkling with stars. "Thank You, Miss Leala..." Your heart sinks and melts at the same time. You don't know what to do with all of the emotions these little guys are giving you. And it's only been a day- Dear LoRD."do you have ketchup?" Hoodie suddenly says, removing the hood he had over his face."Ketchup? Well, yeah, I think. Just ketchup?" You ask, looking at him a little bit confused."yep." He says simply."Well, um... I have it in the fridge, if you want to come with me to get it? Or did you want to stay on the couch-""WE'LL GO WITH YOU MISS LEALA!" Scarf suddenly shouts with great enthusiasm. You blink and chuckle a small bit at Hoodie's reaction."Well okay then, let'sa goooo!" You do a small fist bump in the air and offer your hand to carry both of the little guys, taking Carrot in your other hand and setting him in your jacket's breast pocket. It was pretty spacious and accommodated the slightly larger bitty pretty well. You stand up, feeling the strain in your legs from sitting for so long. You stretch a bit, popping your knee joints and ankles before walking over to the kitchen.You open the fridge and grab a bottle of ketchup from the right-hand side of the door. You set it on the counter and pause, looking into the fridge once more and seeing the leftover tacos you had from the local Mexican Restaurant. "How do you feel about tacos?" You ask before being hugged tightly in the face. Interesting place to hug out of all places he could hug."I LOVE TACOS!!!" Scarf yelled onto your face, nuzzling it with his little cheeks. Oh My Frickin- he's so cute I can't- Scarf hops back onto your hand and sits down happily, wiggling his feet in time to a song he started humming."Okay then, we'll have tacos! And ketchup." You look to Carrot who still lay in your pocket. "Do you know if your brother will wake up any time soon? Or do you know what his favourite food is?""Oh, He Likes Almost Anything!" Scarf chimes, looking up at you with his big blue eyelights. You smile warmly and look to Hoodie."Are you sure you won't want anything else other than ketchup? I can always give you a serving of tacos, too." You see Hoodie shake his head."nah, i'll be okay. thanks though." He grins slightly and climbs up your arm and back onto your shoulder, leaning against your neck again. He must like that spot a lot.You pick up the tacos and set them in the microwave after putting them on a plate. You set it for a couple minutes, just to get it evenly heated, then you grab everything else, AKA just ketchup, and head back to the couch. You set the ketchup on the coffee table and soon after, Hoodie teleported onto the coffee table next to the bottle.It was twice his size... Uh..."Hold on, I'll get you a um..."
Did I remember to get silverware- OH HECK YEAH I DID! YES!! PAST ME GOOD JOB!
"Oh! I got you some dining stuff, I'll use that! Huehue!" You smile as you walk back over to the microwave, pressing the button to open the door and grabbing the tacos out of it. You shut the waver boi and put the tacos on the counter. You speedwalk back over to the couch to grab a couple plates from the sacks and bring them over to the taco plate. You open one of the counter drawers and take a knife out of it, taking the taco and splitting it into sizeable amounts for their small mouths. After getting everything plated and stuff, you head back over to the couch, setting everything on the coffee table and letting Scarf down to eat. "Itadakimasu!" You say jokingly, slapping your hands together and closing your eyes. You start to eat before you see them try and say the word too. "O-Oh guys I was uhm- I was being silly- you don't actually have to do that every time you eat." You chuckle a bit and Hoodie smiles slightly. Scarf huffs, but soon joins in grinning."OKAY MISS LEALA!" He takes a large bite of his portion of taco. "OH MY STARS! DID YOU MAKE THIS?!" He asks with an amazed expression on his face."Nope. I got it from a restaurant. There's a pretty good place down the street, has bombin' burritos too." You pat your belly and wink at him. "In both taste and after effects. Haha!" You take another bite of your taco. They always had the best food there, that's probably why it's your favourite place."Mweheheh!" Scarf laughs with a wide smile. You notice that his hands are getting kind of messy, maybe you should get him a paper towel or something?You sit up and head toward the counter, grabbing a few napkins and walking back to the couch. You relax back down onto the sofa, now seeing that Carrot had woken up and was now staring at Scarf's taco. He handed a piece to Carrot, but the orange hoodied skeleton didn't want any.Your gaze shifts over to Hoodie and you see that he's grinning contentedly as he drinks his cups of ketchup. Haha! He must really like ketchup huh?You think you remember someone saying that monsters couldn't digest human food as easily, but you could get that later on when you weren't so tired.Speaking of tired, you should get their beds ready- wait did you buy those-You check the bags that were next to the sofa and rummaged through the multiple different nick nacks and outfits.You didn't.Freakin' heck..."Oh gosh darn it I didn't get beds for you guys..." Your head slumps down and a guilty look takes over your features. You look up to them, the small skeletons already finished with their food. "I'm sorry..."Scarf perks up and crawls into your lap. "IT IS QUITE ALRIGHT MISS LEALA! WE CAN SLEEP WITH YOU!" He says happily, smiling that adorable smile of his."yea, it's no problem..." Hoodie says, fiddling with the drawstrings of his new blue parka. His skull nestles into the furry layering of the jacket, his grin becoming a lazy smirk. Carrot nods as well, staying silent, but his gaze continues to be in your direction."O-okay, if you guys are sure..." You still weren't all too keen at letting them sleep with you if they didn't want to. I mean, the other two seemed fine with it, but the tall one seemed reluctant. "H-hey," You turn your eyes toward Carrot. "Did you want to sleep somewhere else? I noticed you weren't that... Enthusiastic about uhm... Sharing sleeping arrangments." You fiddle with your hands as Carrot stays silent still."it's alright... leala." Carrot's quiet voice eventually trails out. His slightly orange eyelights followed your own orbs of colour as if trying to see something that maybe you couldn't.Hmmm... "Okay... Just making sure." Your eyes fall to the coffee table and then move to your bedroom door. A flash of Bob, concerned and wanting ice cream pops into your head for a moment and you slap your forehead. "Oh geez, I forgot to contact Bob and tell him I'm okay..." Your hand slides down your face and you look back at the bitties. "Alright, I'm gonna hit up Bob real quick and tell him I'm still alive and okay and stuff, then I think I'm gonna go ahead and get changed for bed. You guys wanna come with, or did you want to stay out here a bit longer?" Your blink at them before a yawn escapes your throat. "Oh goodness pardon me." You say sleepily."OH, YOU CAN GO AHEAD, WE'LL BE RIGHT BEHIND YOU! AND DON'T WORRY ABOUT US GETTING LOST, I MEMORIZED THE LAYOUT OF YOUR ABODE!" Scarf says proudly. Your mouth slowly curls into a soft smile."How observant... Okidoki then." Scarf jumps off of your lap and back onto the coffee table and you sit up, stretching your back and popping a few joints in the process. You let out a heavy sigh and treck over to your bedroom door, opening it and then popping inside. You didn't close the door, just in case they wanted to come in.The only real thing that you needed to change out of was your bloodied T-shirt. "Agh, man that's gonna take weeks to get the freakin' stain out..." You take off your leather jacket and set it on your desk chair before quickly tidying up your bedsheets. You walk over to your mirror and take off your shirt. A scar, among many of the others on your body, lay on your shoulder where the bullet made contact. "Well... I guess I can say I got another battle wound. Bob'll definitely want to check up on me if he sees this." You chuckle and walk over to your closet. There weren't many shirts to wear for PJ's, but you chose one of your more loose ones that went past your knees. I mean, not that that would be considered a shirt of all things, maybe like a dress that's really short but meh.It'd be good enough.You slip off your jeans and sneakers, grabbing your phone out of your pocket before tossing your jeans in the hamper in the corner, you nail it. "Heck yeah!" You set your shoes inside your closet, positioning them symmetrically against the back of the wall of the small storage space. You take your undergarments off and quickly put some new ones on. You toss your old ones in the hamper as well, nailing them directly in the centre. "Second score for Frost!" You imitate quiet cheering with your hands a chuckle soon after. You put on your oversized T-shirt and plop onto your bed. Oh, wait you need to text Bob- "Gosh dangit." You sit up, lazily walking over to the floor next to your closet and picking up your phone. You had dropped it on the floor. Classy. You quickly unlock your device and send a quick text to the ol' Bobbo bro and toss your phone onto a pile of folded laundry on the floor. Your legs automatically walk over to your bed and you fall face first onto the plush bedsheets. You turn your head and make a small bed angel with your body. "Ahh~ This is truly the most comfortable piece furniture I have..." You hug the mattress you've had for, what, ten years?If you were a cat, you would be purring. But you're not so you just make human noises.You turn around and, after a long minute of struggle, you get the blankets over yourself. "Hah! I got you, blanket! I hath defeated thee!" You giggle sleepily and your eyes immediately close halfway as your mouth expands in a yawn. You faintly hear the sound of the door creaking open, and two sudden pops next to your head and chest. You open your eyes tiredly and look to see Scarf and Carrot on your chest and that meant that Hoodie was probably next to your head. "Heheh... Hellooo~..." Your voice slurs and your eyes were barely keeping themselves open."Hello Miss Leala." You hear Scarf's voice, except it's quieter than before. Aw... That's so sweet of him. "Thank you... For everything you did for us." You hear a sniffle and then a pat.You smile, feeling tears well up in your eyes. "You're welcome dear." And with that, you couldn't stay awake any longer.
* You have fallen asleep.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A/NScarf does not know that he is called Scarf yet. (He's called scarf in Lea's mind but ya know :P )ONTO THE STORYWOO -Scarf's POV- He watched Miss Leala's face shift into a state of calm sleep and he smiled, grabbing the edge of the blanket and going under it. He laid down on top of her chest and curled into a ball. He thought back to the events that transpired today....Such a kind human could get hurt in this world.
He wanted to make sure she never did.
He fell asleep to the thoughts of the past.
-Scarf's POV-
The first thing he remembered was a light coming from a crack in the dark sky.
Oh wait, that wasn't the sky...?
His brothers were next to him, shivering from the state they were in. All he could feel was cold and wetness surrounding him, a foul odour he could not discern invading his sense of smell. Small bony phalanges brushed up against his, and he grasped them carefully. Knowing that his brother's hand was not fully healed since the last attack by the humans...He had believed in them. They'd said they would change their ways. He'd believed that they were telling the truth when they said they were bringing him and his brothers to a good place.
Never had he been so wrong to...
They tossed them around like they were playthings, shaking the box they resided in like it was one of those human instruments he saw on TV, they insulted the three of them like they couldn't understand... Like they couldn't feel.But they could.They had thrown the box they trapped him and his brothers in into an awful smelling vehicle and driven them somewhere."You should have never come here you little pieces of s-" The angry human was interrupted by another human."Dude, I think someone is listening in..." A gravelly voice said."Hah, like they'll stop us anyway. Practically everyone hates monsters the same as us." The angry human said. He was right, wasn't he...? The thought made the scarfed bitty hurt inside.He felt the box lurch before it stopped with a great thump onto a solid surface.It was dark, so he couldn't see anything but the dim glow of his brother's SOULs. Footsteps travelled to the right and became quieter, he assumed that they were walking away, finally going to leave them be. He scuffled over to his orange hooded brother. He's still unconscious...He heard the engine of the vehicle start up as if they were going to leave.
Are they going to run over it?
What?
Who's voice was that?
He looked around frantically trying to find out where the voice came from.And then he froze, the words from the angry human piercing the silence. "This is what you get, you stupid monsters! Should never have come up here!" Said the angry human. "Have a nice time dying, you pathetic pieces of garbage!!!" The gravelly voiced human said. He heard the rumbling of the vehicle get closer...
No-!
"OH HELL NAW!!" He flinched as he heard a booming voice echo through the surroundings of the box. He still couldn't see anything besides the crack of light, slowly he tried to adjust his eye sockets to the brightness, what felt like a long time and he finally adjusted his eyes. Great! And he saw... A metal-ish ceiling?He heard heavy footfalls getting closer to where he and his brothers were. A glowing light of multiple colours getting bigger and the heavy footsteps were getting louder-"Get OUT Of The Way!" The angry human said.
To who-
He whipped his head around when he heard a scraping noise, looking to see through the small opening in the top of the box. A shadow cursed under its breath and winced.
Another human maybe...?
He saw it pause and then felt the box move a bit too fast and he fell over, it didn't hurt though. But he was worried about his brothers... They were the ones who protected him from-He was cut off as the box felt like it was floating, and then as quick as the feeling came, it left and he fell down again. A pained gasp came from outside and he was now curious/concerned as to who was holding them now, despite his own injuries, he wanted to make sure his brothers were safe. He could hear a faint breathing coming from outside, light beads of magical sweat gathered on his brow-bone as one of his brothers woke up."What the HELL do you think you're doing?!" He flinched as he heard the angry human yell. The voice reverberating against the cardboard box they were being carried in. He felt his blue brother panic at the loud interruption of slumber, so he went over to calm him down, even though he was nervous himself. With a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder, he looked through the gap at the top of the box. He could hear footsteps slamming against the ground outside of the small enclosed space, getting closer by the second.And then, an unknown voice spoke.It was soft and brittle like they wanted to cry but couldn't... Or wouldn't?"Uhm... I-I was j-just..."Why do they sound scared...? His awake brother looked up, eye dimly lit up with soft blue flames as he heard the angrier human respond, much louder than the previous time."That's mine! GIVE IT BACK!!!" He felt the box jerk quickly away from an invisible force that reached for it and he and his brothers went slamming into the farthest cardboard wall painfully.Quickly he gathered his bearings and got up as soon as he could. But just as he was about to walk forward, something cracked underneath him. And it was all he could do not to scream in agony when he dropped to the ground, clutching the air around his leg before gently covering it with his hands. He tried to hold in his tears, but it was no good. The pain in his fibula was too much. He looked down, tears pouring out of his sockets as he opened his phalanges slowly only to see that marrow leaked through cracks in his bone. If he had a stomach, he would have regurgitated everything in it by now. A bright light drew his attention away from the cracked fibula and he looked up, he saw a multicoloured light in front of them, changing into a grey-blue colour with pink cracks shaking on the soft surface like rippling water."I'm sorry, I jerked it too hard..." He heard the unknown voice say as the colours switched from pinkish white to a dull blue and grey. Why are they apologising... Humans never apologise...?He flinched as the box shifted, making his leg tap against the cardboard and him whimper in pain.He heard a grunt come from far away and his soul froze. OH NO, WHAT IF THEY HEARD-The light-shape glowed comfortingly as if trying to calm him down, shining a with a faint green. He then heard the angry human's uneven sounding footsteps walk away and then a scrape against a metal of some kind. The light in front of him shivered and the pink cracks he saw earlier rose above the face of the faded green.The light shivered...
Wait, IS THAT'S THE HUMAN'S SOUL-
"You dirty monster lover." He heard the angry human say, a clicking sound coming from the same general direction. Wait, monster lover?Silence.Too much silence-"It's not fair..." He heard the unknown voice say in a whisper, a light thumping sound emanating from the now dimmed light shape.
What.
"It's not fair monsters are treated like this..."
What...?
He looked up at the shadowy figure through the opening above and saw a faintly visible face, the box started shivering and something sparkly near their eyes shined for a quick moment.He heard faint snickering in the distance. "That's what they should be treated like, they're disgusting." He heard a spitting sound and then the angry human continued... "That's why they're called 'monsters'."...A soft pat came from the crack as he looked on, and a warm liquid dropped itself on his face. He sputtered and wiped it off with his tattered scarf, but he tasted it before he could get all of it off his skull.It tasted salty... Tears?"It's not right... They shouldn't treat you all like this..." Why is the human crying...?More soft pat sounds came from above, but the liquid didn't get through the crack like before. His eyes glowed a bit brighter, but he dimmed them quickly as his magic leaked from the wound on his leg.A particularly strong Tha-Thump sounded from the dim light as he looked at the ever fading glow.And then it went out.
OH...
OH WAIT NO!
OH, MY GOODNESS! IS THE HUMAN DEAD?!
It quickly came back, brighter than before. Oh, thank Toriel... Wait, I should not be concerned with their health-!A faint 'Bye Bye' is heard in the distance, but what stops his thoughts is the singing."I look upon a star..." He heard. "And I see night shift to day," He felt his strength returning and looked down to check himself. His HP was raising! What was this strange human doing? He looked over to his brothers as well and saw that there was a faint green glow coming from both of them, their HP was raising too! "I feel the grass grow, And I hear you next to me:" He looked up and saw an actual face and not just shadows.A human. A crying and smiling human. They were looking directly at him... Though he did not think that they knew they were... But... "You are a blessing for my weak heart." What?"You are the sunshine in the dark" ...wh...why? He didn't realise his fibula was fully healed.An 'aha!' sounded in the distance, but he barely noticed, entranced by the human's song. He felt shuffling next to him, his brothers must have woken up. He felt their presence on either side of him."You're the gift that I'll never part with..." The human closed their eyes and tears almost fell from them. "You're the missing puzzle piece I needed."He knew his brothers felt it. He did too but... He didn't want to admit it to himself.So many people had felt different, but when they decided to trust the person, they showed their true selves and betrayed him and his brothers. He couldn't let himself trust that feeling.The light in front of them glowed a soft green light. And shined brighter with each word said.A gunshot was heard and the three of them flinch, but a calming voice softly spoke to them. "I will protect you.". Who's voice was that? He made a confused face and looked at his brothers, they were looking at the glowing light. "I'll be there when the sky is blue, or rather when it's any hue." the human above them sung. Was that the human's SOUL that said that...? But... How?Another bang sounded outside and they all flinched again, but a calming sweep of emotions grounded him on the cardboard floor, looking up at the green light. He stared at it, astonished by the kindness that just emanated from this person. No, not kindness only... "I'll be here, with you." Was that... Love?
How...? W-Why?
Another thumping sound erupted from the Soul in front of them and it grew extremely bright as it came closer until a green heart shape emerged into the small box and cast a bright green glow over everything the light touched."I'll protect you." He heard the voice above them say. And then a loud sound came from outside the box, making them flinch and look to where they thought the sound came from."I won't let them hurt you anymore." His eye sockets widen, and he stared disbelievingly at the SOUL in front of him, it shined a vibrant yellow and blue making green in the centre as the colours blended and swirled together. How can a human, a HUMAN, be this...This...! The box shook a bit, He guessed that the human had finally decided to get up."Leave them BE..." He heard the human carrying the box say. The SOUL turned a fiery orange and red, whisps of magic swirling around in a green haze."WHY? THEY'RE MONSTERS!" He felt his brothers flinch when the angry human said that...Faint clicking came from outside, and then the box moved in a spinning way. His brothers tried to speak to him, but he signed to them that it'd be too dangerous.What he heard next, stopped him and his brothers from doing anything else..."My mother always told me that the greatest good will always be pursued by a harmful evil. Maybe this is what she meant...? Heh... It... It was nice to meet you, even though I don't know what you look like..." Quiet patting of tears on cardboard filled their ears, and then the human chuckled. They sound sad..."I meant it though," He felt the box constrict as the human held onto it tightly. Making the SOUL come closer to them.And then the SOUL whispered and completed the human's sentence, glowing a bright neon green as they spoke in unison:
"When I said I'd Protect You."
He heard whizzes of air. Wake up.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Darkness.That is all you see.What you feel...? Wet.Something's tapping your face.Ow.Rather hard- Ow....Ow... Ow- OKAY, DUDE.You groan. "Woah! Dude, I think she's alive!" A female voice said. The voice sounds rather gruff like it's used for yelling a lot. "HEY! PAP!" Oh Geez, here we go. "Yo, the human is alive! I thought they died or something- Hey They're Waking Up!""NYEH HEH HEH!" An even louder voice says if that's even possible. "HELLO HUMAN! MY NAME IS PAPYRUS!" Please, not so loud... It's like he hears your prayers because he suddenly lowers his volume and continues. "My Friend And I Spotted You In An Area With A Lot Of Rocks And Cars, So We Thought We Should Help You! Good Thing We Did Since Your SOUL Looked Like It Was About To Shatter From Too Much Magic Use!" Wait- T oo much magic use?!You're eyes shoot open and look around you, blinded by the light temporarily, you squint. Trying to make out the shadowy shapes in the grey. Sitting up immediately as you remember what happened. The Bitties.You hear the faint twittering of birds nearby as your head spins and you prop yourself up on your left hand. So I'm in a forest...? But what about the three bitties? Are They Okay? You feel blades of grass slide against your fingers as you scrunch up your hand in a fist. Your hair frizzing up like raised hackles, signalling your alarm at the disappearance of your friends. Friends...?You panic.
Where Are They?
You hear quiet gasps from the two figures standing by you. Concern literally seeping out of your very being, that much you can tell. As you hear stuttering answers coming from the two people in the shadowed grey of the forest trees. One steps forward and you look to see...A skeleton.A literal. Skeleton.In your frantic state, the only thing you see is that he's wearing a red scarf, and has a weird metal-paint-thing on his arm. Also, he has coloured pencils strapped to his waist- Um... Pelvic bone- or wait, hip- AGH WHATEVER, SCREW DESCRIPTION.But your concern for the bitties outweighs your curiosity at seeing A Freaking Skeleton in the forest.You start panicking. Because the bitties probably haven't been by themselves before. You had heard that bitties needed help to live, but when the bunny lady talked to you, she had said that they couldn't live without someone else to take care of them. So you were scared that they could die.
I'm in a forest, so I'm probably in Berlin Park or Western Woodland...
Are there any wolves or predators that eat small people?
She didn't tell me about anything that could possibly eat them!!
Actually, that's probably common sense to know that they are in danger of possibly getting eaten by a hawk or something.
OH, CRAP THERE ARE HAWKS IN BERLIN PARK.
What If I'm in BP? What If They Fell Out Of My Grasp While I Was Flying Through The Tornado?!
CRAP NUGGETS!
You almost forgot that you were in the presence of a skeleton and a female voice you don't know the appearance of- Oh wait, there she is. "Hey punk, I'm Undyne! Pap and I saw you lying on the ground north of Ebott. You were holding those three bitties and were barely holding on to yourself." The uh, Fish lady(Undyne) says, holding a glowing... Classic ink pen?? What The Heck...? "They asked us to help you. Their HP was fully healed to the max and more, like they hadn't gone through a deadly tornado. Yours, however..." She rubbed the back of her neck. Ear-fins twitching in confusion. "Yours was in the negatives, it still is actually... Honestly, I don't know how you're even alive..." The woman looked at me, armour shining slightly in the grey light cast by the clouds and the sun behind them. Her hair waved slowly to the wind, red locks flowing over her shoulder casting a scarlet shade to her blue scales. Oh, she has gills.Nice.She's quite beautiful actually. "Miss Leala, We're Okay, Don't Worry!" You whip your head to the right, hearing the familiar voice.There they are. 'They aren't hurt', you heard her say that, but you can't help but worry."Thank God..." Relief washes over you as you see Scarf, Hoodie, and Carrot all standing to the right of you.They are alright.
They're alright.
They aren't hurt.
I think... I hope they aren't hurt.
"No, We're Okay Miss Leala." Scarf repeats, smiling up at you with bright eyes. "You Saved Us Yet Again." He's using his quieter voice... Is he okay? Did something happen...? He blushes and looks down surprised by being able to read your thoughts. You're surprised too, to be honest. Like how the heck does he even do that?"Are you alright?" You ask again, even though that stunning fish knight lady(Undyne bro, Undyne.) told you they were okay. You were thinking of what could have happened while you were asleep. You aren't even concerned about the aching in your leg. You see them nod. You look at Hoodie and he's wearing a less tattered blue parka, over some black basketball shorts and pink slippers. Seeing Hoodie wearing new clothes, you look at Scarf, and see he's also wearing new clothes. A baby blue bandana that was tied in a bow behind his head, and grey pants and a white t-shirt with navy blue boots. Carrot is wearing an orange sweater with rust coloured cargo pants. Red sneakers accompanying the look.They all look very nice.And then you remember all the stuff you bought for them at the centre."Aw dang it!" Your outburst made the three flinch and glance up at you, but seeing as you weren't looking at them, they relaxed a small bit. "Your guy's clothes, and all the silverware I got you guys! I'm gonna have to replace those." You glance over to the bitties with a finger to your chin. Slowly lowering it as you see their faces. "What's wrong...?"The expressions they wore.Shock. Confusion. And most of all, sadness... And anger?
Wait, why sadness?
"You're worrying about us? The stuff you bought us? When you could have Very Well Died Back There?" Scarf's voice gets louder towards then end and it catches you off guard. He continues before you can say anything back. "MISS LEALA, YOU ARE MUCH MORE IMPORTANT THAN SILVERWARE OR CLOTHING!!" He stares at you incredulously. "HOW DARE YOU PUT YOURSELF DOWN LIKE THAT?" His frustrated stare calms down into a sad frown. "You're much more important than those things... You are much more important..." He sniffles. Oh no, is he crying? Oh no oh no-"Please don't cry!" You say suddenly trying to calm him down, but it's not of any use. He starts full on sobbing now, leaning into his brother's shoulder. Carrot puts an arm around him and looks up at you with a look just screaming 'he is right, you know.' Crap. Literal guilt crushes your Soul as you do the first thing you could think of. Again. You reach down and put your arms around all of them, they still in your hold as if waiting for you to do something. I made him cry...You all stay there for a while, motionless.Until a whisper brought you out of your thoughts."I'm sorry I made you cry." Oh. It's your voice.You barely recognise the soft tone as your own. Just barely... You almost don't hear the concerned and confused sounds of the little guys in your ears.But you do.You try to fight the feelings you know are growing inside of you.But you can't... Or rather, you don't want to.But... You're scared of this... Scared of getting attached to them.You had just planned on taking them home and helping them, but when you saw them back in the garage smiling at you with joy... You couldn't do that to them.Couldn't do that to yourself...It would hurt too much to let them go now.You inhale quickly, holding your breath and in turn having your heart beat louder with every passing second. Regretting dwelling on this thought for this long because now...Now you remember why you always pushed people away in the first place.
Father will find me.
A silent tear falls down your cheek as you gaze towards the ground and let go of the bitties. You quickly wiped it away but... It didn't go unnoticed by the people around you.
He'll hurt them if I stay...!
"Who's-" Carrot pauses, and lets out a breath. Looking up at your distant expression and watches as he sees your face turn from distant to very scared and panicked as he says these next words. It's possibly the worst thing he could've ever said to you at that moment. "Who's 'Father'...?"You freeze.You stare at him with eyes full of newly formed tears as you start to shake. Wind dying down to a small breeze, adding to the tense atmosphere of the forest. The birds aren't singing... There is only the sound of your quick and uneven breaths slipping out of your mouth, making soft noises of distress. Eyes wide and glazing over, you bring your knees up to your face to cover it, wrapping your arms around yourself in your fearful daze.You don't feel yourself hit the ground. You don't hear the startled gasps of the people behind you, and you don't hear the bitties calling your name.You just hear... Nothing.Darker.D a r k e r...
Y e t d a r k e r . . .
It was noon. He hasn't done it this early before. I was about to go to school, but he had dragged me down to the special room and bound me tightly to the table with the leather straps that hurt my wrists.
"Don't worry Lea, it'll only take a moment," Father said to me, bringing his knife closer to my arm as I struggled to break free from my leather bindings. The smell of alcohol invaded my sense of smell as he got closer to me. I jerked my head away from him and looked at my dark surroundings, lines blur in my vision as tears brimmed my eyes. The grey concrete walls gave me a stark reminder that I would never be able to get out of here until he said so...
Mom never knew about this. She'd said she loved him. She'd said that he couldn't change that he liked horror movies, that it was okay to have different tastes in hobbies. His hobby just happened to be hunting rabbits.
She didn't know he was a great actor either...
"You'll only feel a slice and then we'll be done! We can go to Likky's after this if you're good and don't scream." He said sickeningly sweet, smiling as he dragged the knife across my already scarred skin. Red liquid seeped out of my new wound as he went at an agonisingly slow pace, the knife cut its way to my back, dizziness made its way to my eyes from the pain and I cried out for him to stop.
I cried.
He sliced.
Wiped the knife.
Repeated.
It went on for hours.
Time after time I called out for somebody, anybody to save me.
I couldn't take it anymore.
The pain was unbearable.
It was worse this time.
It was like he was never going to stop.
I cried out again, voice cracked and damaged yelling out for anyone who could hear me...
Anyone...
...
But nobody came...
He threw me to the ground an hour after I stopped screaming. I fell like a ragdoll, the feeling of a rough fabric beneath me as I gazed up at him. His confident and crazed stare piercing my own scared, weak one. Cold concrete stung my frail body, leaving the feeling of burns as I cowered on the floor beneath him. My fall had caused a layer of dust to come up off of the ground, which made me cough. Particles floated in the air as if time itself had stopped itself in apprehension. The tears from before that threatened to spill over finally did. And he just smiled...
"It's no fun if I can't hear anything coming from you." His teeth glinted in the light from the ceiling, sickly white turned yellow by the dimness of the hanging lightbulb. He crouched down to me. Putting his mouth to my ear, and whispered. The sounds enhanced by the close proximity, I could hear every movement and sound his mouth made.
It was disgusting.
"Next time, last longer. Okay, Lele?" There it was, that horrid nickname.
He backed away, footsteps left the room and sounded up the stairs. Loud thumps echoed away, leaving me in complete silence to dwell on my thoughts for three hours I had left to recover until mom came home...
...* HoPe Decreased.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
You don't feel wet.You don't feel cold.All the opposite of those.
Yay.
Wait.
You open your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dim brightness of the ceiling lights.You freeze.
Dim brightness...I'm in a room-You sit up, heart hammering against your chest and you immediately check your wrists. You let out a breath of relief. No leather...You shake your head and blink, taking in the environment. Dark wood pillars line the corners of the creamy white themed room, a bedside table is set next to the comfortable bed you're sitting on. Nice flooring, the light brown adds a relaxed feeling somewhat. Oh, since when did you become a guru at room design?Your swing your legs over the bed and plop your bare feet on the wooden floor, a slapping sound as a result. You giggle slightly and stand up, completely forgetting your near panic attack. Stretching your back and letting out satisfying popping noises, you sigh contentedly, opening the door to your right and looking out at a hallway with bright orange walls, it has other doors that you assume lead to bedrooms. Or bathrooms, maybe. You hear a thumping coming up stairs and you look to your right, seeing stairs there for the first time-"HUMAN! YOU ARE AWAKE!" A loud voice bounces against your eardrums, but... You're used to it?? A uh, skeleton. Oh right, Papyrus! He's the one who came with that fish lady. Undo- No wait! Undyne! That's what it was..."OH! YOU WONDERING HOW YOU ARE USED TO MY NATURALLY LOUD VOICE? WELL..." He strikes a pose, red scarf billowing behind him... Somehow. "WE USED MAGIC! SPEAKING OF MAGIC, HERE!" He reaches into his red shorts pocket and pulls out a bracelet with rainbow beads and a glass oval as the centre. Kind of looks like a watch. "UNDYNE AND I DECIDED WE WOULD LET YOU SLEEP, SINCE THE BITTIES THAT CAME WITH YOU WERE PRETTY... INSISTENT." He folds his hands together in a polite manner. "THEY ARE QUITE FOND OF YOU, I CAN TELL." He bows and walks down the stairs, maroon shoes tapping against the wood. "You May Come Down If You Like, They Are Waiting For You." His voice fades away and you hear faint talking. Huh, it sounds like that fish lady- Oh, speak of the devil."WHAT?! THEY'RE AWAKE ALREADY?!" you hear a banging noise. "LET ME SEE THEM!" You can hear a smile in her voice, don't know how you do but you just... You knew.Blame it on magic.You look at the watch-like bracelet and slip it on just as Undyne came barreling up the stairs."Hey, punk!" She smiles toothily at you and grabs your arm firmly, an emotion you can't discern hid behind her eye as she looks at you with a grin. "We were scared you weren't gonna make it!" You stare at her, curiosity outweighing your suspicion. "Oh, you don't know, do you?" She lets go of your arm and puts her hand on her neck, rubbing it against her shiny blue scales. She motions for you to come downstairs when you hear a loud:"SHe's AwAKe?" It was all of the bitties saying at the same tim-
The Bitties.
You rush past Undyne and don't see her smug expression, you almost fall down the stairs in the process of trying to get down them.You don't care.
What is this concern...?
"MISS LEALA!" Scarf's voice."Hey, we thought you were a goner!" Carrot."We were really concerned for you, ya know?" Hoodie.You didn't notice you ran over until the little guys started to ask if you were okay.
Why do I care so much about them?
You hug them."M-MISS LEALA...?"
Scarf.
You hear a quick intake of air.
What do they mean to me...?
"H-hey, you okay?"
Carrot.
He freezes.
Do I dare to care about them...?
"leala...?"
Hoodie.
Stiffens.
Do I dare?
...
Well, Mom always told me I was daring...
You didn't realise you were crying. Scarf's POV flashback~~~ When he and his brothers had gotten into Miss Leala's home house, she showed them around. The bathroom was the coolest part, it had a thing called a faucet. 'Water comes out of it' she'd said.When she was done showing them everything they went to sit down on the sofa. He had gone down to sit on the fluffy looking chair seat and found that it was really comfortable! He'd told his brother to come and sit with him.He teleported.HE HAD TELEPORTED NEXT TO HIM.He saw his brother flinch and look up at Miss Leala.She was... Smiling??But Why?...She'd said that she didn't know they were brothers.That's it.That's all she said.His brother asked her if she wasn't mad. Her look was confused but then... Then she frowned and her eyes widened. She was silent for a bit-But magic is a part of a monsters being! He could only stare. Her Soul was talking.
Talking!
How can it speak so easily? He wondered.That's like telling humans not to walk, it doesn't make sense...! She had started to cry, shock and concern forced itself out of her Soul and through the air as if it wanted to let everyone know that she was concerned for... Them.She was concerned for them...She said she wasn't mad.She said she wasn't mad that they used magic, that she wouldn't be mad if they used magic in the future...
How can so much kindness exist in one person...?
She'd said that she wasn't like 'those people'-
OH NO.
"O-Oh! No, we know that Miss Leala! It's just-" He trailed off.
"You deserve to die! You pieces of filth! NOW DO WHAT I SAY." Another human threw him into the pit and forced him to press the fight button-
He shook his head and tried to smile. "It's just that we..." His smile fell and his eyesight constricted. He wanted to go on but... He couldn't."we weren't allowed to use magic with them." He heard his other brother say next to him. "every time we did, we'd be... p u n i s h e d."It was silence after that.
p-punished...?
He looked up at Miss Leala and saw her look back. Her eyes lock onto each of them for a second.Nope.
What? Her Soul again? How can she be so open-?
m n t d ng is. I an
What is she-
NO. "I'm not going to ask what happened. Because I can clearly tell that it hurts you when you even think about it." She said to them, breaking his thought process. She sat up straighter and wiped her eyes. "But... That doesn't mean it won't effect me as well when I see you guys like this." She looked down. W...what?The pitter patter of rain came from the window, but she didn't notice. Ah, it's raining."It hurts... Seeing you with those looks in your eyes." She continued, the wind now blowing really loud. It started to hurt his hearing... He could barely hear the next words she spoke. "Even though I met you only just today, I feel like I need to stay." She chuckled. "I know, that sounds weird doesn't it?" She smiled sadly, but then that smile turned into an angry look. Carrot's POV flashback~~~ He saw her expression shift into an angry one, he knew she was a good person, but he was still wary. "And if those guys come back-" She stopped herself. His eyesockets widened as he realised she wasn't mad at them, she was mad at those humans...She shook her head and a blank expression forced itself on her face.He knew that expression.That was the expression he always used when he didn't want to scare sans with his anger. "Let's just say..." She turned her head and looked at them. Her eyes were vacant as if she was somewhere else... "They'll regret it."Her soul turned a vibrant yellow, the cracks stood out even more than when she picked up their box... The cracks almost when straight through the shining heart. Suddenly the soul sent out a pulse of energy and the magic tingled at his fingertips, her soul changed colours rapidly as if deciding which emotion to rely on.It stopped at a colour- or rather, three colours. Sincerity and kindness surrounded a circle of crimson determination, stars wrapped around her soul like a ribbon holding it together.He could tell that his brothers saw what he saw. That they saw that one glimpse of a soul that was shattered and was held together with strings of perserverance before it was hidden by the other colours that changed in quick succession.They all stared at her soul with wide eyesockets.Then the rumbling started. Hoodie's POV flashback~~~ Earthquake...! He heard her Soul scream before the whole place shook.He'd almost lost his footing on Leala's lap as he looked up just in time to see her look down to them. "Have you ever dealt with earthquakes before?" He shook his head frantically.He was panicking.He didn't know what the heck an 'Earthquake' was.Back in the lab, they didn't have those.It sounded like it was outside, so was it one of those 'natural disasters' that the magazines sometimes talked about?"What's an earthquake?" His blue scarfed brother asked.He decided to find out what to do and how to react. "what do we do in this situation?""is it a natural disaster?" His taller brother asked.Leala didn't have time to answer before a loud rumbling came from... Well, everywhere it sounded like.The floor shook as dust fell from the ceiling. Small cracks formed on the walls and floor under the couch. It was like the whole place was breaking...I ne...
Woah, her Soul just spoke again.
How the heck does it do that so easily...?
Wait, what did it even say?
A loud siren started to blare through the howling gale outside of the building which startled him and his other brothers. One of them actually fainted.
Oh Crap.
I need to...
There! it did it again!
Protect. His eyesockets widened.Her arms reached out for them. "Hold onto me!"Well, he wasn't going to refuse that. Since she was probably their only way of surviving. His instincts took over and he grabbed onto her leather jacket and climbed to her neck. He hid his face in the crook of her neck, trying to calm himself down. She picked his scarfed brother up and stood up, which in turn jostled him a bit from hiding his face. He was forced to see everything transpire then.The loud CRRAAAAAACK that came before everything went to crap.It sounded like a tree falling overhead- the ceiling was falling down.The ceiling.Was falling down.The Freaking Ceiling. Was FALLING.He didn't even try to hide his screams, clinging to her skin so hard that his phalanges hurt.Please hold on. He felt her Soul pulsing with panic. Which also made him panic more. If he was in his right mind, he would have been surprised he didn't pass out yet like his scarfed brother.Leala ran to a window in her living room and looked out, he did too. He was very confused about what he saw. The sky can turn green?!Everything quaked as Leala turned around to see a- Uh oh.There was a giant crack in both the ceiling and floor and the kitchen looked like it was lifting out of itself- aaand it did...The giant crack that caused it to was now spreading closer to them.Way to elevate his panic, nature, great.He felt her stumble and fall down and bang her arm against the arm of her couch, his phalanges lost their grip for a second and his mind blanked. Next thing he knew he was biting her neck to keep himself secure. He heard cloth hitting the far wall and then a giant SLAM!He saw blood trail down her neck and his eyesockets became black as he looked up to see where it was coming from.Her head was covered in splinters, all jutting out at different angles. He would have puked if it weren't for the situation at hand.He felt her body stagger and she raised her arm to feel her head. She brought her hand down and saw the blood, her face blanched.Suddenly, everything floated.But that didn't last long.Of course.He held on for dear life, digging his phalanges into any place he could to stop himself from being thrown off of her. Grey was everywhere, he felt Leala get hit with things he couldn't see. He felt her Hp lowering-Don't Suddenly she grabbed him.Another hit from something jostled her arm, but she didn't let him go.Let He felt her Hp hit 1.Go... A flash of green came from her Soul.What he saw next... He should've never seen.Because they weren't his memories. They were hers.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
After Miss Leala's panic attack, she'd been taken to the house of the big skeleton and fish lady. 'Undyne and Papyrus' they said their names were. They had stayed with her for almost the whole time she was unconscious. It was only when Papyrus told them that she needed space that they had reluctantly left her be. The house was pretty nice when they got to look around. Miss Leala was taken up to a room on the second floor, it was a hallway that had no walls, except the ones for the bedrooms(Or bathrooms?). Their were railings on the side of the second floor, keeping anyone that was more than five inches tall from falling. They heard shuffling from their right and looked over at the same time."SHE'S AWAKE?" He and his brothers all said at the same time. He felt kind of proud that they did two things unanimously in a row.
The Bitties.
His breath hitches. Miss Leala.A pounding sound from the left of him caused him to look over, only to see Miss Leala almost fall on her face. But thankfully she wasn't hurt and ran down the wooden steps two at a time. She's energetic for waking up just a moment ago...Her eyes landed on each of them, searching, worried."MISS LEALA!" He said enthusiastically, his relief very evident in his voice. But he did not care."Hey, we thought you were a goner!" His taller brother said with almost sustained concern."We were really concerned for you, y'know?" His hooded brother's voice wavered like he was ready to cry at any moment.Her breathing quickened and sparkles brimmed her eyes.Then she ran.Her legs tripped over some things, but she didn't stop. His taller brother asked if she was alright. So did his hooded brother. She just got up, she shouldn't be running like that! She could strain her human muscles!But before his worries could get the better of him, she wrapped her arms around them in a quick move.He sputtered in surprise. "M-MISS LEALA ARE YOU A-ALRIGHT?" Her response to that was silence.The warmth of her hug only added to the feeling in his own Soul... He felt loved."Hey, Leala, you alright there?" His taller brother asked concernedly, chuckling to relieve some of his stress. He could feel him shuffle and pat her arm for emphasis on his question. Her response to that was silence.He didn't know how to explain it, but it was the word that popped into his head the moment his eyes locked on to her own when she was on the steps. When she ran to them with a desperation, a hope.Love..."hey, uh, leala? you're shakin' pretty hard there..." His hooded brother's trembling voice came from his right. Her response to that was silence.He was getting worried. She hadn't said anything for a while now."M-MISS LEALA?" He started.
Scarf.
His breath hitched.Was... Was she talking to him?
She does know what it means to name a bitty... Right?
The kind bunny monster told her... So... So then she-
She started to shake more, wet droplets of her tears made their way to the front of her shirt where he was."H-hey, you okay?" His other brother's voice said from his right, but he barely heard it.She had named him...
Carrot.
Her arms tightened their hold on all of them and his hooded brother spoke up. "leala...?"
Hoodie.
Said brother stiffened.He knew that his brothers were thinking the same thing...She Named Us...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Got the idea from UltimateGamer101 ;)
But I was thinking of a blind vote thingy! ^^
You will choose how the story plays out =)
pick a number between 1 and 4 ^_^
1 Someone
2 Story
3 Death
4 Mystery You can pick whichever one you liiike~!
Toodles!
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
After waiting a while, you get your composure back and pull away.Only to be met with smiling faces.Scarf is smiling despite the fat cyan tears rolling down his cheeks. Carrot is grinning from ear to... well he doesn't have ears... So he's grinning happily, the rims of his eyesockets glistening with fallen tears. Hoodie is hiding his face in his hood, but you can see his smile and the small sparkles falling down his cheekbones.You don't realise how long you sit there until you hear an 'Ahem.'You turn your head and grin nervously at the skeleton before you. Crap, how am I gonna explain how I'm feeling... "Sorry, it's just... Well..."He holds up a gloved hand and smirks gently. "IT IS QUITE ALRIGHT, HUMAN LEA." He kneels down to you, holding out his left hand for you to take. You do and he helps you upwards. Carrot and Hoodie teleport to your shoulders with Scarf, which causes you to jump a bit and let go of Papyrus. He looks at you and crosses his arms with a thoughtful smile. "WELL, THEY SEEM COMFORTABLE ENOUGH TO USE MAGIC IN FRONT OF YOU." Papyrus finally says after a moment of silence.You flinch slightly. And of course, the bitties notice that. But before even one of them can say anything you start speaking. "They should be able to use magic anywhere..." You clench your fists tightly and look down at the ground. "Humans are just big jerks who need to learn the meaning of kindness and integrity." You remember those men from the car garage and your look turns sad. You feel a small hand on your cheek and your eyes look to the right and see Scarf touching your face with a concerned look on his skull. "I'm okay." You smile kindly, grazing his small phalanges with your fingers. He drops his arms away after a moment of reassuring him you were fine. He grumbles and sits on your shoulder for the next few minutes.That is until Undyne barreled down the steps."Okay Punk! Time to tell us what's happenin'!" Her gruff voice echoes through the empty house, making it sound much louder than it actually is. Scarf stiffens and you feel a static like sensation tingle from your toes to your fingertips."She Doesn't Have To Say Anything."You don't know which is scarier.The fact that Scarf's voice dropped at least two octaves.Or that he's saying that with such imminent threat that it sends a shiver down your spine.Undyne's eyes snap to the little bitty on your shoulder in surprise, making the sparking feeling on your body even more prominent. but it's not painful, just uncomfortable. Her hands make placating motions as her wide eyes stare at the little one on your shoulder.You don't know why, but you reach your hand up and rest it on the top of his skull, making his body flinch but slowly relax into your fingers. The tingly feeling goes away as his shoulders slump and he sits down, leaning against your neck.All is still for at least thirty seconds as Undyne lowers her hands to her sides and straightens herself."You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," Undyne's voice is unnaturally soft, like a completely different person is speaking. Her gaze shifts your way and you see now that her eyes are gentle and the fins at the side of her head are drooping a bit. "I'm just worried about you..." Her yellow orbs seem to look through you at something you can't see. "Which is strange, because I only just met you a week and a half ago." She chuckles. "Although you were asleep for most of it." Her body turns slightly away from you, the light coming from the ceiling casting a shadow over her face.Woah... Total change in demeanour."You were going to die you know." Her voice is barely above a whisper, but her stance is still strong. "Your HP was below zero, in the negatives. You should be gone, but you're not." She turns around and looks you dead in the eye as her brow furrows. "What I'm concerned about is what kept you alive. And how it did." She walks forward and places a webbed hand on the side of your arm, looking at you with an expression of concern. "So please, tell us what happened..." She lets go after patting you on the arm and walks over to the couch, sitting down she gestures Papyrus over with her hand.As Papyrus passes you he puts a gloved hand on your arm and smiles at you in a reassuring way as if saying 'you don't have to'. He walks over to Undyne and sits to the left of her, making the couch fluff up like a new pillow.With something like this......Before, you didn't have a choice to choose.Before Bob, everything was always obey or be punished.Before all this happened everything was boring and redundant.But now...Now you have a choice to be able to say something, to tell your story.To tell someone what he did to you. What they both did to you..."Every person I've trusted and told this to has left me. The only person who hasn't is Bob, but he knew beforehand about what happened because he was there." You look up with a hesitant face, taking in their own expressions. Apprehension and worry. "How do I know you won't leave too?" You were also talking to the bitties on your shoulders. Even though you said you would stay, doesn't mean that they will when they hear about your past.
How do I know they won't leave me like all the others?
How do I know they won't be freaked out and leave me alone for it?
Will they be disgusted towards me?
Will they judge me for what he did to me?
You take a deep breath and square your shoulders, feeling the small bodies shift and move on them. Hoodie on your left with Carrot leaning on your ear, and Scarf on your right nestling his skull against your neck in a comforting way.It made it hurt all the more.Because they might not understand it wasn't your fault."ONLY WHEN YOU'RE READY, HUMAN." Papyrus smiles softly and waits for you to start."Yeah, we don't want to force you into anything." Undyne follows up.They might not forgive you for not telling them in the first place even though you met them apparently a week or so ago, and your bitties a week and a half if you're counting right from what they said."Leala, please, you don't have to do this if you do not want to." Scarf's voice carries into your ear like a soft whisper. "I don't like to see you sad..." His head leans closer to the front of your face. He's probably looking at you now."l-leala, you don't have to do something that'll hurt you, that's the last thing we want..." Hoodie's low tone and soft concern make a thump sound from your chest. "We don't like to see you hurting like you don't like to see us h-hurting." You feel his small phalanges trace small circles on your neck. "It h-hurts to see you sad when you've been almost always cheerful t-this whole time..." His voice falters and cracks in some parts, but you get the message.They don't want to force you into anything.They'll let you not speak if you don't want to.You take a moment to calm yourself and you go sit down on the couch opposite of Undyne and Papyrus.Deep breath. "E-everything-" You force your voice to take on a calmer tone as you recount your past. Images fly through your mind making the breath you were breathing in hitch, and your vision blackens around the edges.
Knives.
Too many knives.
He has a thing for knives.
Cuts are never bandaged, he always leaves them for me to take care of.
I have to make excuses for the scars and new cuts. If the teachers know, he'll just blame it on Mom.
Lost friends again due to them thinking I was suicidal.
He sent people to kill Mom and me at the subway-
You feel Carrot tug on your earlobe. It was subtle, but it brought you back to reality. You take several shuddering breaths......."Everything started eighteen years ago."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"I was an orphan. I didn't know who my birth parents were because I was so young when they died... Until Miss J picked me up from the streets and brought me to the orphanage, I lived in the alleys. I was about six was when I was taken to Sunnyside. That's what she told me at least. I don't remember much, but I'll try to say what I do remember." You breathe in and recall one of your more clearer memories where it all started.
~18 Years Ago~
"Miss J!" I said excitedly. "When are the grown ups coming??" I rushed over to her side, my fingers clung to her blue cotton dress and tugged impatiently. Miss J chuckled good naturedly and tucked a piece of her greying hair behind her ear. "They will be here soon, my dear." She patted my shoulder softly and sent me off to do my daily school work. I grumbled and went down the hall, my black shoes tapping rhythmically against the wooden planks below me as I trotted along, going the exact opposite way she told me to. I started to skip along the empty corridor knowing no one would see me here.I turned the corner with jazz hands and stopped mid flutter. Well, I was wrong. Someone would see me here.A tall adult stood a few feet in front of the door where Miss J usually entered to talk to the people who would adopt us- I silently gasped. Was he going to adopt someone!I smiled widely and giggled, wondering if it was Kell. He was the little boy I met when I first came to Sunnyside. He had always caused trouble, but I taught him that those things were bad because he wouldn't listen to Miss J. The adults that came really liked him and always complimented him for good behaviour nowadays.The man a few yards away turned to my direction and I quickly scampered behind the tall marble pillar at the corner of the hall I came out from. I heard some muttering and footsteps come my way before the man came out from the side of the pillar and looked down to me. He had slicked back dark hair and a long brown trench coat held on his arm like he had just taken it off, making him look sophisticated and stuff. Like a butler! He had the suit for it as well. Although it wasn't really a suit, more like a sweater vest with a white shirt underneath, matching navy blue slacks and black shoes. He looked super snazzy!"Hello, dear child." He smiled down at me."Hi, Mr. Beckahm!" I held out my hand for his to shake like I was taught we do when we greeted people sometimes, his eyes softened as he reached his hand to mine and shook it gently. My eyes brightened at the man and I smiled wider. "You look really fancy today!" He chuckled."Well, today is a special occasion after all." He winked playfully. "I know who is coming home with me." He smiled warmly. "Although I do need to come here some other times to meet with Miss Jace and let me see you before everything is final."I gasped, eyes widening in shock. "Wait! Y-you're adopting me??" He nodded kindly and I smiled from ear to ear. I pounced on him, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Mr. Beckahm!!" I could feel his stomach vibrate with a chuckle."My pleasure." He hugged me back.
~17 Years Ago~
I heard Father call from down the hall, it seemed he was looking for his fancy glasses. "One minute. I know where they are!" I barely had any time to finish sliding the shirt over my head because he walked straight through the door and stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened and he immediately covered them."I'm sorry Leala, I did not realise you were changing."My small child arms finally slipped into the thick sleeves and pulled the striped sweater over my head. I gave an okay symbol. "I think your glasses are in the big cabinet next to the kitchen room." I was in the middle of changing so I couldn't go down there to look with him yet. Unless he wanted a half-naked 8-year-old running around his house, haha! "After I'm done I'll come with you to see if they're really there! Just- Oof! Gimme a minute!" I pulled myself off the ground, wrestling with those stupid leggings. Those black pairs were always hard to get on. Finally, after a minute of wrangling my tights up my legs, I made a triumphant sound and struck a pose. I was done! I looked over at him and noticed he had stepped a bit closer to me, I tilted my head in confusion. Didn't he need to find his fancy glasses?"What do you need Father?" That seemed to snap him out of his uh... Whatever 'that' was, and made him look at me.He blinked and then a guilty look appeared on his face. "Oh... I'm sorry Lea, but I just noticed a string of your sweater had come undone and I was thinking of ways to fix it. If I was staring I apologise." Oh! He always did fix mine and Leo's clothes when some threads came loose."It's alright! Now, let's look for those glasses!" I ran past him, bare feet tapping against the white tiling of the hallway as I sprinted down and stopped at the end. He was just standing there! He needed to hurry, the people might need those fancy glasses! (Whoever those people are.) "Come on Father!" I said impatiently and he chuckled, he walked over only to meet with air as I plunged down the steps with laughter.
-16 Years Ago-
"Leo, you said that Father had a surprise for me?" I was practically bursting with excitement when I reached the mystery room door. The oak wood looked nice with all the dainty cream walls surrounding it. The tiles clicked under my feet as I tapped my tennis shoes together impatiently, waiting for Leo to open the door.He was fumbling with the old iron keys used for the locks in this house. All the locks were kind of old and still had... Uhm... 'skeleton keys' I think Father called them. Once Leo found the right one he exclaimed with an 'AHA!' and unlocked the door, swinging it open to reveal...!The guest bedroom.If this was the present he needed some teachings on what kind of present to give."Boo!" I yelped and backed into Leo who stood behind me. I looked in front and saw Father there with a goofy mask on. "Happy birthday my dear." He laughed and took off the mask, making me sigh in relief and giggle. I never really did like clowns. But of course, Leo probably said I loved them.When I tried to walk into the room though, Leo grabbed my arm. I looked behind at him but I couldn't see his face cause it was covered by his blonde hair. "Leo? What is it?" That made him flinch and let go, his head turning left to look away from me. I heard a grunt from in front of me and saw Father standing straight and looking at Leo with a stare that could burn. "F-Father...?" His eyes glanced over to me and his face held a look that made me feel... Scared.I needed to go.Luckily, Leo thought the same thing.He grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the doorway to drag me down the hall, barely saving me from being grabbed by Father. "No! I waited years for this and I will not let my own Son ruin it for me!!" I heard Leo choke out a sob as we continued down the hallway, winding maze like passages continued throughout the house, but eventually, we made it through the front door. When we ran outside... Leo shrieked."You're no 'Father' of mine!!" That made Father stop in the doorway of the front. I glanced around quickly, taking in the greenery and flowers that were now dying due to it becoming fall. "A father would not do that to their own child!" Leo's words cut into my brain. Do what to his own child? What did he do? Or... what was he going to do?A gentle chuckle broke my thoughts and I hadn't realised we were on the edge of our yard until I felt the sidewalk beneath the soles of my shoes. I looked over at Father who had stepped closer to us. "You don't understand, young Leo..." His smile turned sickly sweet. "I love her.""You disgust me!" Leo spat in his face and ran for it, dragging me with him."Don't worry Leala! Daddy will find you soon!" His voice carried through the wind that was whipping against my ears. "We'll continue your birthday present!" B-birthday present...?Wait... Was he going to do something to me?The thought made me sick to my stomach and I wanted to puke, but I didn't have time.The grey clouds of an oncoming storm rolled and boiled angrily in the distance. It was going to rain.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
hi guys, I'm so sorry I haven't posted for so long...First time: I forgotSecond time: Just when I remembered to post it I found out I have appendicitisSo I had to get surgery... Uhm. Yeah.I'm okay now, so don't worry!I have a lot more time to brainstorm now (if I'm not sleeping) and writeI love you guys, thank you so much for being so patient with me... :')
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
You pause for a moment and look up.Papyrus is looking at you with... Actually, you can't read his face. Undyne, yes you can."NGAAAAAHHHH!!!" She flips the coffee table which is engulfed in orange magic right after and set back down on the wooden floor. "That Guy!!!" She crosses her arms in anger. To hold herself back from doing any other destruction, you think. "Why in the HELL would he try to do that to you?!" She plops down back on the brown couch next to Papyrus who was sitting silently on the right side."Undyne, Getting Angry And Destroying Things Will Not Make Everything Better." Papyrus's voice was usually very loud, friendly. Hearing the quiet and even tone sent shivers up your spine. I wonder if they're angry at me...? You twiddle your thumbs in silence as Undyne rages on. At one point you turn your head down to lessen the noise a bit. It touches you that she cares about you so much, despite her meeting you only... What, a week or so ago? Ever since you woke up, the time has been weird. It feels like you were only asleep for a day. But nope, it was a week or something. Maybe if you fell asleep one day, you might never wake up? You didn't realise how long you were looking down and wandering through your own thoughts until you felt a small hand tap against your cheek. You blink- oh you were crying. You quickly wipe away your tears and look up. Why am I crying?Undyne is quietly sitting on the left side of the couch. The fins at the side of her face drooping a little bit and a guilty look on her face. "Sorry..." You barely hear her voice. It sounds so small compared to her usual gruff, loud tone.You miss the loud Undyne, she wasn't meant to be sad. "N-no! You don't need to apologise for anything, Undyne!" You wave your arms in the air, being careful not to jostle the little people who were still on your shoulder. Luckily, they teleported off of your shoulders and onto the arms of your chair. You made a quick thank you look towards them which Carrot returned with a small thumbs up. Huh, seems they weren't that affected by your story.
Carrot POV~~~
He was disgusted.No, not at you.At that man who called himself your 'Father'.He doesn't deserve that title.Your head was down and Undyne was raging on about how this guy doesn't deserve to be your father. Well, at least the fish lady agrees with him. A trembling came from beneath and he looked down. You were shaking... Hoodie seemed to notice as well because he got up from his position that was leaning against your neck and went to the front of your face. He floated there for a minute before landing on your left shoulder where Carrot was. His hand reached out and rubbed your cheek carefully, he was probably using some magic to help you and that seemed to shake you out of whatever reverie you were lost in. By that time, the fish woman had quieted down and was sitting next to a silent Papyrus.You looked around, making your hair brush his face. He looked at Hoodie and realised he was trying to sign to him. He made a sorry motion with his hand and nudged him to continue.
What do you think happened?
Well, if he had to tell anyone about his past, he would dwell on the memories afterwards.
I don't know, probably stuck in a memory.
Oh... We do that sometimes, so I can understand.
Yeah.
They stopped signing when they saw that Papyrus was looking at them with interest. Magical orange sweat gathered on Carrot's head and he looked away from the studying gaze. It seemed that Hoodie had the same idea because he pulled his hood over his head and snuggled closer to your neck.That is until you started waving your arms.He had been so engrossed in his own conversation with Hoodie, that he hadn't even heard you and Undyne speaking. He grabbed Hoodie and teleported to you right shoulder where Scarf was and grabbed him as well, shortcutting to the right arm of the chair you were sitting on. He turned around and gave a little thumbs up at your glance. You smiled softly and looked back towards Undyne.
Your POV~~~
You were slightly relieved that they weren't that affected, but it also worried you that they might not have been listening. Because you don't think you could go through telling this again.After you say that it was okay for the umpteenth time, Undyne's fins perk up a bit and she asks if you still want to tell anything else.You pause for a moment before nodding. "Yes, but... Can I take a little break first?" Undyne smiles toothily."Take as long as you need punk!" She stands up and excuses herself loudly. "Gonna go get some water, all that yellin' made my throat thirsty for some H20!" She shoots towards the kitchen with the speed of a bullet. You watch her mull about in there until Papyrus coughs totally-unsuspicious and you look his way. His face is covered by a gloved hand so you can't see what his expression is."Is He Still Roaming Around...?" He asks quietly.You nod, smiling sadly. "Yes, he is... But the police are looking for him still, so I'm sure he'll be found someday!" You try to put on a positive smile and hope that that gets through to him.He was about to say something, but Undyne came running into the living room from the kitchen and looks at her watch, dramatically cutting him off. "Pap I need to go NOW!" She puts a webbed hand to the side of her face. "I promised Alphys I would watch a movie with her." She winks and then grabs Papyrus's skeletal arm and shoots for the door, handing you her number in the process. "CALL ME IF YOU NEED ME!!!" And with that, she rushes out of the entry way to the house.Dragging Papyrus along with her.Yup.Okay, now you were in a house that was not your own.You were alone with three small people.What could go wr- Nope, you jinxed it last time...Something could definitely go wrong.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Hello guysuuuu I'm going to rewrite some of this fic because it just feels like there is so much going on and I don't want to overload you guys by dumping heaps of story on you that you wouldn't have time to process, so I'm gonna edit some chapters!Some not much, but others I might have to take some medium sized chunks out of-Also:I AM SO FREAKIN' SORRY I HAVE BEEN ABSENT HOLY HECC I FEEL HORRIBLE I HAVE NO EXCUSE I WAS JUST LAZY AND FELT LIKE DOG CRAP AND WAS REALLY TIRED AND GOT INTO ART BUT THEN WAS LAZY TO DO THAT AND AND AND *faints*- Note from future me - I love you guys :3pls forgive this lazy pile of turds for not providing you with more readage. |
11184786 | Closer | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Frank Castle, Karen Page",
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"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by goddamnitkastlewrites",
"chapters": "1/1",
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"published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00",
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"Additional Tags": "I would like to thank Chrysler for showing me the future of cars, And also apologize cause this sucks royal hippogriff",
"Relationship": "Frank Castle/Karen Page",
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} | “This is not your car.”They were outside now, the sky inked in black and blue as the buzz of the city surrounded them. Frank took in the immaculate Chrysler, all tinted windows and smooth chrome.“Actually it is.”“No it’s not.”“Okay so I’m a liar now? If you recall you crashed my pervious car…”“Didn’t bother to get it fixed, huh?” he remarked harshly. She’d been guarded about her current life all night and he was respecting that. But nothing was adding up for him and he wondered if this was in fact Karen Page he’d been drinking with all night.“I couldn’t afford it.”“But you can afford this?”“Frank, why are you harping on this? I have the keys, it’s my car, and we’re getting in it.”She began to walk to the driver’s side but Frank couldn’t resist. He prided himself on being a man of simple needs… but it was just so shiny.“I’m driving.”Karen laughed. “I’m sorry did you not hear what I said? You crashed my car…”“To save your life, ma’am.”“Oh for fuck’s… okay fine here.” She tossed him the keys which he caught with ease. He unlocked the car and they both got in. Frank went for the ignition only to find that it was not where it should be. Instead there was a start button. He looked down at the keys and saw no familiar shapes. As he took the rest of the dashboard he saw a knob where the gear shift should be and a touch screen. Oh great. It was one of these cars. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Karen cross her arms, eyebrow cocked up and a smirk threatening to appear.“Frank.”“Karen.”“Need a little help?”He turned his head toward her and saw that she was ready to rip him a new one. Well, the joke was in her. He may have been out of touch at first when he came home but he was always a quick learner. He turned back to the dashboard and started the car.“Well then.”“It’s been four years.”“Sorry didn’t mean to insinuate…” She reached toward the temperature dials and heat began to blow from the vents.“It’s fine, Karen.” He looked back and saw her staring out the window, her hand in her hair. Suddenly he was back in a parking garage, hearing Shining Star. “Look, maybe it was the scotch talking but… we don’t have to do this. I can take you home…” She turned her head and whatever he was going to say it dissipated on his tongue. Her eyes, they shined brighter than anything he’s ever seen. Any star, sun, ocean, nothing fucking compared. They haunted him, as batshit as that sounded. They made him want to write long letters but also crash through fences in her name. He’s had these thoughts before and they always sounded stupid in his head. He kept silent as he held her gaze, she was clearly torn up about something.“Frank, I don’t want you to take me home.”“I’ll take you wherever you want to go Karen.”She looked away then, her hands twisting in her lap. Without a second thought he reached over to still her movements. She took his hand in hers, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. The sensation coursed through him, she bit her bottom lip. He licked his lips. When did the air in the car become stifling? She raised his hand to her lips, they brushed his fingers. He tried to move them, he wanted to trace that bottom lip of hers but she tightened her grip. She looked at him, her eyes seeking permission. He nodded. She took his hand and traced his knuckles along her cheek and neck. Her skin was smooth, almost translucent under the street lamp they were parked under. She flipped his hand and his fingertips were now grazing her collarbones. She continued down her sternum, he felt her heart hammering an unregulated rhythm. His breath hitched as she took his hand off of her but still holding on to it. Her eyes never left his and she said nothing.“Karen.” he whispered as he closed his eyes. He was breaking the spell but he had to. Yes, he was still a man and he knew a beautiful woman when he saw one. But he felt that the bridge between him and Karen burned the night he killed Schoonover. Also he felt that she belonged with Murdock and he was okay with it. To an extent. He rationalized that Red would be better for her, he only brought her misery and he never planned to set foot in New York again.His racing thoughts screeched to a halt when he felt his hand touch lace. He looked down and yep, that was her cunt. The flimsy material did not hide that she was warm and wet. And then all the blood rushed out of his head. For a long moment, nothing happened. He didn’t move and she didn’t push him on. The only sounds in the car were their heavy breathing and the vents blowing heat.It was a frenzied blur after that. All lips and tongue and teeth. Fabric tore, his shirt, her dress (which had Karen spewing profanities along with her threats for him to pay her back) Next thing he knew her seat was pushed all the way down and he was climbing on top of her fumbling with his pants. As he dug his fingertips into her thigh, he yanked her one black stocking off when she suddenly pushed him off of her, holding him at bay by his chest.“Wait, wait… can we go to the back instead?”“Yes ma’am.”“Okay no more ‘ma’am’ Frank. I think we’ve passed the point of goddamn pleasantries.” He belly laughed at that, she responded with a groan. She began to shimmy out from under him, twisting to belly crawl across the seat. He caught sight of her tattoo again. Maybe she had changed. But then again he did too and in this moment he didn’t feel tired. The weariness of the world that had made a home in his bones wasn’t there now and all he wanted to do tonight was follow her. And to see if she had any other tattoos. |
11172939 | Showered in Love | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
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"Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by PuppetMaster55",
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"published": "2017-06-11T00:00:00",
"words": "149",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Soulmates, ShanceFluffWeek, Shance Fluff Week 2017",
"Relationship": "Lance/Shiro (Voltron)",
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} | “I love you.”Lance froze, looking at Shiro in shock. The words came out of him quickly, came swiftly, and he hadn't even realized.Or, well, he should have realized. Shiro was wearing the blue crop top Lance had gotten him (as a gag gift, he hadn't ever expected Shiro to ever actually wear the thing), while Lance wore his black cat thigh-high socks.Shiro launched into bed, laughing, and went about kissing every inch of Lance's skin he could reach. Lance giggled, turning into full-blown laughter with every butterfly kiss Shiro laid on him.“I. Love. You.” Shiro punctuated each word with each kiss. He pulled up to look at Lance seriously. “And I will shower you with all the love I have for you.”“ShiroooOOOH!” Lance shrieked as Shiro bent back down to continue his onslaught, and he didn't think he could have ever meant it more. |
11169252 | Falling For You | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Kuroo Tetsurou, Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Oikawa Tooru, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Iwaizumi Hajime, Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji",
"Fandom": "Haikyuu!!",
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"author": "by ReiyaAkashiya",
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} | Falling For You Cheers erupt inside the stadium as the lead vocalist finishes another song. The bed head singer flashes a grin that definitely made every female fan squeal in delight. He grabs the microphone from the stand as he walks up to the front of the stage. Lights dim and the spotlight is on him and his bandmates behind him."Hey guys," Kuroo starts. "Thank you for coming tonight." He waits until the response dies down. "My next song is an original. It hasn't been released so I hope you will all like it." He goes back to his position behind the mic stand and slings his guitar on his body. He starts the strum the strings in tune of his vocals. "Falling for you... falling for you." He closes his eyes and lets himself feel the lyrics.
Falling for you, falling for you, falling for you
Falling for you, falling for you, falling for you
--He first met this beautiful person in a mini concert in a studio. It was a live broadcast for a music show in a certain network.He was really noticeable. With his blond hair, his towering height and his indifferent facial expression, Kuroo first noticed him as soon as he walks up on the stage. Everyone in the audience cheered but he didn't. It was like he didn't even want to be there. The band started the first song with the hitting of the drums from Bokuto. Loud cheers came from the audience. The lead vocalist saw the tall blond being shook by his friend beside him. Ah, the fanboy who frequented to their studio taping as part of the audience. The freckled man encourages his friend to cheer. Kuroo chuckles internally at the thought and started their first song.Tsukishima does not like crowd, much more, a noisy crowd. However, he didn't exactly hate it when his childhood friend, Yamaguchi, invited him to watch one of Alpha's live performances. Surely, concert isn't his thing but he can manage because first, the ticket was free and second, he promised Yamaguchi to do something for the latter's birthday. Yamaguchi even persuaded him to listen to Alpha's songs and admittedly, he liked their tune, lyrics and music.People were buzzing and chatters were scattered inside the concert hall after the performance. Most of the attendees were female fans so Tsukishima had to cringe every time they squeal in delight. He put on his headphones as he waited for Yamaguchi to come out of the bathroom.The Alpha's performance was really good, Tsukki thought. The drummer was really energetic. The guitarist and the bassist were the opposites. And the lead vocals was a crowd charmer. He can totally spice up the audience with his performance. He was really good with his fan service, adding the really good charm point of the guitarist. Well, Tsukishima heard the guitarist is also a model and a part time actor.Throughout the whole performance, Tsukishima can feel the eyes of the vocalist on him. Scratch that. It was impossible since it is a crowd and artists should give eye contact to their audience. He is just one of the lucky persons to get front row, having a closer look at the attractive, naturally bed hair man.Yes, attractive. At Tsukishima's eyes and all other fans present in the concert. It was not like he is the only guy who is attracted to the same gender. He just cannot see girls in romantic ways."Tsukki!" Yamaguchi called, walking to him from the bathroom. "Haha, sorry I took long. Let's go home.""Yeah," Tsukishima answered. They had not been walking farther when they heard several girls shout in excitement."Oh my gosh!""It's Kuroo!""Kyaaaaaa! Marry me!"Kuroo grinned as he came in the waiting area to look for the tall blond that caught his attention. He looked through the crowd as the people started to swarm all around him. "Sorry, coming through." He spotted the blond at the isolated part of the area with his friend. He half ran to his location, waving at him. "Hey, hey! You there, megane-kun!"Tsukishima looked at him as Kuroo stopped in front of him. "Me?" he said. Yamaguchi, on the other hand, was freaking out because his idol was in front of him."Lend me your phone, I forgot mine," Kuroo started. "Please, megane-kun!"Tsukishima did not know what to so he just did as he was ordered. Kuroo grabs Tsukki's phone. "Oh, password?""Uh, I'll do it," Tsukishima grabbed back his phone and unlocks it. Kuroo hurriedly steals back the phone and typed something into it. "Aaaannnddd saved! Here!" Kuroo hands back the phone to its owner. "I saved my number. Call me, megane-kun!""Kuroo," came a voice from behind him. "You need to go back." It was only then they realized that the crowd had started to gather around them. It seemed like the world stopped when the two faced each other. Kuroo turned to the voice, seeing it was only the bassist who called. "Haha, Ushi, sorry. I'll go back now. Be sure to text me, megane-kun!" He turned to leave with the bassist."Don't call me in that name," the megane scowled. "Then tell me your name in the text!" Kuroo waved as he and Ushi ran to escape the crowd.Tsukishima didn't have the time to yell back when the fans started to bombard him with questions."He gave you his number?!""Tell us please!"He just shrugged and kept the phone in his pocket. "It was just a prank," he coolly said and walks away. "Let's go, Yamaguchi.""Ah, Tsukki, wait!"The next day, headline gossip said that Kuroo created a scene after the concert after pranking a fan.
You can try to act cold
But you’re not so good at it, it’s cute
You can try to act aloof
But it’s awkward, makes me like you even more
"Aaaahhhhh!!! Why??????" Kuroo whined on the couch of the music studio they practice at."Noisy," Oikawa said as he focused on filing his nails. He was seated on the single sofa across Ushijima who was tuning his bass guitar."It has been three days and I never received any text from him!"Oikawa already who he was talking about. "Did you even give the correct number?" He put down the nail file on the table in front."Huh??? Did I?" Kuroo sat up. "Shit, did I press the wrong number?! Oh my god! I should have just get his number instead!""Haha! It's okay, Kuroo-chan!" Oikawa snickered. "And he might have come because of the great me. You know, I am more popular anong guys." Oikawa huffed proudly. It was because of being a model and an actor he was a bit popular than their band leader. "How about trying to audition for a-" He was cut off a smack at the back of his head."You and your big head, Shittykawa," Iwaizumi appeared from behind him."It hurts, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa rubbed the sore spot on his head. "Why do you always have to hit me everytime?""Shittykawa, it is Iwaizumi for you. Learn to respect your manager," Iwaizumi said. Oikawa pouted. "Harsh." Kuroo can still be heard in the background whining."Still pain-in-the-ass Kuroo-san," a voice butted in from the door.Kuroo gave a look at the visitor. "Brooooooooo!!" Kuroo knocks the glass window to interrupt Bokuto who was inside the recording room. Oikawa found the chance to change the topic, earning a glare from Iwaizumi. "Bokuto-chan, your boyfriend is here!" Bokuto burst out of the recording room to greet Akaashi.Kuroo just sighed and ignored everyone as he lied down and stared at his cellphone. After a few minutes, he received a text from an unknown number. 09xxxxxxxxx: hiKuroo was shocked even though he was still expecting to receive a text. It was his private number that he gave the blond.kuroo: At last! Is this you, megane-kun?09xxxxxxxxx: yeah09xxxxxxxxx: I assume this is Kuroo from Alpha?kuroo: Yeah of course! What makes you think I'm not?09xxxxxxxxx: I thought it was a hidden camera prank.Kuroo chuckled at the reply. He got up and walks out of the room, leaving a bunch of people.kuroo: No it wasn't. Want proof?kuroo: <Attached Image>kuroo: I'm at the studio, went to the emergency exit. So breezy here ('v')kuroo: what's your name, megane-kun? So I can save your number.kuroo: Hello?kuroo: pls reply :<09xxxxxxxxx: you're annoying. i was in class gdi09xxxxxxxxx: it's tsukishima kei. It's kei, not a damn firefly.kuroo: Tsukki it is! ❤️tsukki: do not call me thatkuroo: so you're still in college? what's ur major? The rest of their conversation was mainly initiated by the vocalist, in which the blond had replied to every message for him. Kuroo found Tsukki very adorable. Tsukki acting so cold and distant made him even cuter. He hopelessly failed at acting cold at him for he gave up every time Kuroo begged.The latter even invited Tsukki to their next live performance in the same studio. Tsukishima turned down his request. When asked why, he said it was because of his schedule and the first time Kuroo met him was because he was doing a favour for his friend, Yamaguchi.“You should’ve said yes!” Yamaguchi burst out. They were in a café they frequented managed by an upperclassman in college who graduated last year. The live performance had long passed two weeks ago.“You know I am not good with crowds,” Tsukishima said as he sipped his strawberry milkshake. He glanced at the people who were passing by the shop.Yamaguchi sighed. “So that was why Kuroo was agitatedly looking around before and after the performance,” he hummed.“Huh?” He was about to ask what his friend meant about that when his phone vibrated on the glass table they are using. It was a text from the person who kept bothering him for two weeks.“Do you best, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi chuckled when he saw who texted.
It’s not something you can learn
You’re born with it
You’re not made up
You’re a pro at being attractive
With the excuse of a restaurant coupon
I asked you out on a date
You coolly said pass but
I witnessed your eyes quivering like an earthquake
A tall man in a beanie, sunglasses and surgical mask stood by the university’s gate. He was busy fidgeting on his phone, typing and waiting for a reply. People started to take notice of the man who was really noticeable in a place like this. So when Tsukishima, who was walking towards the exit, didn’t help but notice the man pacing back and forth a few feet away from him.“What the heck. Don’t tell me that man is…” Tsukishima whispered to himself.The man finally became aware of Tsukishima’s presence nearby. He grinned but really covered by the mask he was wearing. “Tsukki!”“Kuroo-san…” So that was why this famous vocalist repeatedly asked him of his time off today and on what gate he passes by to get home. He saw the man walk briskly to him.“Tsukki! Finally, it good to see you,” Kuroo said as he pulled down his mask and removed his sunglasses. “You were really late going off from your classes. I started to get worried.”Tsukishima, who didn’t really know what to say because Kuroo’s presence made him dumbfounded, replied, “Uh, I had to talk to a professor.”“Well, the truth is I want to invite you to eat out. Oh, it’s just a coffee shop that serves pastries and other stuff. It is managed by a friend, so I hope you go out with me- I mean, go with me,” Kuroo put it in plain words the reason why he went to fetch Tsukki. He nervously looked at the said man waiting for his reply. He was sure he saw a faint hue of pink on the blond’s cheeks.“Sorry,” Tsukki looked away. “I am busy today so…”“Oh, is that so..” Tsukishima couldn’t help but notice the sudden change in the tone of the vocalist who earlier was enthusiastically talking to him. The people around started to take note of the man he is in conversation with. Some women were starting to fish out their phones, ready to tackle the artist and get a selfie with him. “On the other note,” Tsukishima said. “I’ll agree on that.” He grabbed Kuroo’s wrist and started to run away with him, away from the fans who had already gathered around them. For Kuroo, it was like the world stopped around them as they ran together, hand in hand, or wrist in hand, in their situation.Minutes later, Kuroo started to trend in Twitter after being seen in a local university.
I didn’t expect things to go well from the start
But I’m a bit sad
But I won’t give up
I’m a pro confesser
Kuroo was texting him one night. He was still in the studio after their band practice. It had become a routine to send Tsukki a text after every practice. “You know, all jokes aside,” Kuroo started out of the blue. “I know you know what my intentions are. At first, I thought you were really attractive so I got and had your number. I don’t know since when, but I really like you, Tsukki. I may sound joking but I want to date you.”Kuroo didn’t receive a reply that night. --
Falling for you, falling for you
Falling for you
You seem level-headed but you have a twist
I know.
Falling for you, I’m only thinking of you
I’m gonna be ruined
I know you have a warm heart, so cozy
I wanna hug you.
It has already been six months since his confession. He didn’t receive any reply that night but Tsukki replied when Kuroo texted him after a few days, ignoring what a he did and pretending nothing happened. But today, in this night’s concert, he tells everything through his song. With the love of his life watching, he knows it can make through. They met several times, every time being awkward to each other. Kuroo brushed them off as nothing and continues to talk to him about everything. He wants to know more about him, wants to grow closer to him, and wants to be part of his life.“Falling slowly, falling slowly,” the vocalist strummed the last note and the fans erupted in cheers. He grabs the mic and puts down his guitar on its stand. “To tell the truth, it was really a love confession,” he clears his throat. “I’ve been texting and seeing this wonderful person for a few months now. Do you think they would say yes to me now?” More and more cheers and yes-es were shouted by the audience. They were not really surprised hearing the Alpha’s vocalist being in love for he has been posting cheesy lines and love quotations in his Twitter account.He looks at the front line crowd, knowing exactly where Tsukishima is. He wants to laugh because the said person is as red as a tomato now. “Kei-chan, I love you. Will you be my lover?” ~ fin |
11104023 | Let Me See Those Baby | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak",
"Fandom": "Arrow (TV 2012)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Wherethereissmoak",
"chapters": "2/2",
"completed": "2017-07-11",
"published": "2017-06-05T00:00:00",
"words": "2,981",
"Additional Tags": "post 5x23, How they got off the island, Olicity Hiatus fic",
"Relationship": "Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Julie's Summer 2017 Hiatus Fics",
"Collections": "Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon 2017",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
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} | Regrets…she had told Oliver she had so many before she kissed him and said their goodbyes on the island. He said that they would talk about it when they got home. But now, laying dehydrated on a raft in the middle of the ocean staring up at the night sky – she had nothing but time to think about those regrets.Everything that both he and she had done wrong. All the time they had wasted before they even got together, and their last year apart. So much time wasted when they may never see each other again. Felicity peeked over at Curtis, who on the other side of the raft was trying in vain to fix the communicator that shorted out when the she had been knocked into the water.Felicity had heard Chase’s words to Oliver about the explosions on the island, and knew they did not have enough time to make it to the ARGUS supply ship on the other side of the island. Everyone had shouted in objection when she ran in the opposite direction – toward the broken plane that had brought them here. She ran inside and pulled on the emergency exit doors on each side. Out popped the inflatable slides/lift rafts that were built into every plane.“Felicity you’re a genius,” Diggle shouted as he grabbed one of the rafts and put it in the water. People started to climb aboard while Nyssa and Slade grabbed the other one.“I guess if Chase was ten steps ahead, this one was number 11,” she murmured as she grabbed as many bottles of water that she could from the plane’s galley.They heard a rumble and looked up to see explosions on the other side of the island. “Hurry!” Slade yelled and Felicity exited the plane. Slade grabbed her and threw her in the raft and pushed it away just as explosions rocked the beach. The impact flipped over the raft, and Felicity felt pain go through her leg as it smashed against a rock.They righted the raft, and Slade, who was bleeding from a gash on his forehead started pushing everyone on board. Diggle and Slade swam and pushed the rafts as far as they could from the shore. It was then that they realized the communicator had been damaged in the water – and all the bottles of water Felicity gathered were gone as well.So now they were here – floating and adrift. With no supplies or way to contact anyone. The pain in her leg had overtaken her (Slade guessed she had shattered one of her bones on the rocks), and they had told her to lay down.“You saved our lives, Felicity, now it’s our turn,” Curtis said, before taking the communicator from her. So she was laying here – thinking about that kiss and her regrets. Maybe she should have kissed Oliver again. She was regretting not going in for another one if it was the last time they would ever touch. His eyes reflected a small smile after their kiss – but also his steely determination to do whatever it took to save his son, even at the cost of his own life.Grimacing as another shot of pain ripped through her leg – she glanced over at the other raft that was tied to theirs. At Samantha. Another thing she had time to think about besides regrets was her doubts.What if the conversation Oliver wanted to have when they got home was that they were finally over forever? What if she had waited too long and it was too late for them? He had his son now, which she wanted for him more than anything, but where did Felicity fit into that equation. She thought about her conversation on the island with Samantha. Why had Samantha taken the time to notice she wasn’t wearing her ring when her son was in danger? Who did that – unless she was trying to see if Oliver was available. Maybe she hoped that she, William and Oliver could be the family they should have been if Moira hadn’t gotten involved.Felicity shook the thoughts from her head. The dehydration and pain was finally getting to her. And she didn’t tell anyone, but the fracture in her leg was a lot worse that they thought (bones weren’t supposed to come out of your skin, right?) and she had been bleeding heavily all day. Her brain was giving her irrational thoughts. But in her defense – she had years’ worth of abandonment issues that cropped up at inopportune times. She loved Oliver. Oliver loved her. He was alive. Their friends and family were alive. Nothing else mattered.She repeated that as a mantra over and over again until she lost consciousness. “I love Oliver, Oliver loves me. He’s alive. He has to be.”***Oliver decided to circle the island one more time, this time going a little further out to see. He and William had been searching for survivors all day and well into the night. They searched the ARGUS supply shipped and he had sobbed when he found they had not made it. Tomorrow, when the flames subsided, they would search the ARGUS bunker on the island.They had to be safe, the just had to be. Chase could not win.He heard a crackle on his communicator device.“Is anyone out there? Can anyone hear us?” Oliver’s heart thudded with excitement at the voice.“Curtis? You guys are alive? You’re safe? Where are you?”“We’re on rafts out on the water – Felicity saved us. But we don’t have any water or rows or anything, so we would appreciate a different ride.”Oliver laughed at that. “I’m circling back toward the plane area – can you guys shout or something so I can hear you when I get close?”He found them in less than 10 minutes, and heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of his son in his mother’s arms. He looked around at the group gathered and his heart stopped at the sight of Felicity, unconscious in Diggle’s arms.Oliver rushed over and grabbed her from him. “What happened?”They told him about their harrowing escape from the island. Oliver lifted her pant leg and everyone gasped at the sight of her injury.“Oliver, we didn’t know it was this bad. She didn’t tell us,” Diggle said.Oliver cupped her face. “Baby, can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes.” He told himself that if he could just see her eyes, everything would be okay.Felicity moaned and he caught a glimpse of blue as she opened her eyes just a fraction.“I love Oliver, Oliver loves me. He’s alive. He has to be,” she whispered before her eyes closed again and she lost consciousness. Oliver didn’t care who was watching as sobs started to wrack his body.“Oliver, she’s getting septic, we need to get her out of here as soon as possible,” Diggle said, his hand on Oliver’s shoulder. Oliver lifted his head to see everyone looking at him, waiting for him to tell them what to do. He tried to calm his breathing. Chase had been right – he was only one loss away from falling apart. But that loss was not going to happen. He shook his head to clear it and looked over at Slade.“The ARGUS supply ship on the other side of the island probably has a med bay with antibiotics. Slade, can you?”“Already on it, kid.” Slade hurried to the boats steering wheel and turned them in that direction.***Felicity heard a faint beep of a heart monitor as she slowly woke from fog. She heard a voice talking gently next to her.“Baby, please wake up. Please open your eyes…I need to see those baby blues.” Oliver. He was here. Wherever she was. He was safe. She summoned all the energy she had to force her lids open and look at him.His blue eyes were right there in front of her, and she saw a mixture of worry, love and relief mixed in them.“Oliver…where…”He kissed her forehead. “You’re at the ARGUS medical facility. Your leg got infected and you went into septic shock. We pumped you with as many antibiotics as we could before hauling ass back to the mainland as fast as we could.”“Everyone else?”“Safe, thanks to you,” Oliver said, squeezing her hand.“And William?”“Also safe. He’s on his way back to his home in Central City with his mom as we speak.” Felicity frowned at this and as if he could read her thoughts, Oliver squeezed her hand again. “And he will be back to spend the weekend with me in a couple of weeks.”Felicity breathed a sigh of relief. Oliver would have a relationship with his son – something she had always wanted for him.She gasped in surprise when Oliver lifted her gently and moved her to the far side of the hospital bed and scooted in next to her.“Do you mind?”She shook her head. “Not at all.” She laid her head on his chest and breathed in his scent. It smelled like home.He tilted her head up again so their eyes met again. She saw tears in his.“I almost lost you,” he whispered.“But you didn’t. We survived. Turns out you were right – we did get off that island. We didn’t need that just in case kiss.” All of her dehydration-induced thoughts from the raft came flooding back to her and she tore her eyes from his, burying her face in his chest.“Fe-li-ci-ty.” He pulled her face back up again. “You were right too. We have too many regrets.”Felicity saw complete love and devotion in his eyes, and all her doubts melted away. Oliver hugged her tightly to him, mindful of her injury.“We came very close to losing each other, so your kiss was a good idea. In fact, I should probably kiss you every morning when you wake up from now on,” Oliver said. He was trying to look nonchalant, and failing.Felicity grinned at him. “Oh really? Why?”He smiled back. “Oh you know, just in case.” He captured her lips with his and the two of them finally came home.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Oliver…Oliver…OLIVER!”He looked up at Diggle’s final shout of his name. “What?”“The doctors need to look at her, you’re going to have to let her go.” His best friend pointed to the woman in his arms. Felicity was the only one who had sustained serious injury in their escape from the explosions on Lian Yu, sacrificing her own safety to get everyone off the island in time on the broken plane’s emergency lift rafts. They had managed to get some antibiotics in her to prevent septic shock, but she still was so pale and had not regained consciousness.Oliver had carried her the whole trip off the island and to the ARGUS medical center, but now that they were here, he did not want to hand her over.“I’m not sure I can,” he told John, almost pleadingly. His best friend seemed to understand, and convinced the medical team to let Oliver carry Felicity to the triage room and take his time laying her on the bed.“I’m sorry, Mr. Queen, but we need to examine her, can you please wait outside?” A nervous med tech asked the question, clearly worried that Oliver would become volatile at the suggestion.“No.”“Mr. Queen…”“I’m not leaving her.”“Oliver, she needs serious attention. If you want her to survive this, we need to let them do their jobs.” Diggle placed a hand on his shoulder.Oliver was so torn. He didn’t know what to do. Logically, he knew he had to wait outside, but he couldn’t seem to make his feet move. Diggle must have guessed his predicament, so he slung his shoulder around him and guided out of the room.Oliver sank down in the chair right outside the door and buried his head in his hands. “I left her before.”“When?” Diggle sat down next to him.“Before, when she was shot by Dahrk. I left her there alone in the hospital while I went out for revenge. I didn’t want to do that to her again. I didn’t want to leave her.”“You didn’t leave her, Oliver, you’re here, that’s what counts.” Oliver heard Diggle’s words, but he did not take them to heart. He needed to do something, anything to help her.Hours passed as they continued to work on Felicity. Oliver paced the hallway outside the room, refusing all offers of food and comfort from his friends and family. They all watched him with worried eyes.When a nurse came out and said she had lost a lot of blood and gone through their supply, Diggle spoke up quickly and volunteered Oliver.“You’re O-neg, man, you can donate.” Nobody in their group thought it was strange that Diggle knew his best friend’s blood type. Many had seen the extra bags of blood stored in the Arrow bunker’s refrigerator.Oliver hesitated. This was something he could do to help, but he didn’t want to leave her. He looked over at Diggle.“I will be right here the whole time. And if anything happens, I will come and get you immediately,” his best friend told him. Oliver nodded and followed the nurse to the area where he could give blood. The thought that he could help save her took root in his mind and gave him comfort. He could do this and save Felicity. He had to save Felicity.As he took off his Green Arrow jacket (he hadn’t bothered to change yet), he grabbed something out of the inside chest pocket – Felicity’s engagement ring. He wore it near his heart always to feel close to her, and in the hopes of giving it back to her someday. Oliver clenched it in his fist for comfort as the needle pierced his skin.The nurse drew several bags worth of blood from him, and started to pack away her instruments.“More,” he growled. “I can give more.”“Mr. Queen, we’ve drawn enough. Any more and you could become ill.” Oliver scowled at the woman, giving her his best Green Arrow glare.“More. I will be fine.”His intimidation worked, because the nurse drew more blood from him. Oliver forced himself to ignore the light headedness he was feeling. He had lost more blood on Lian Yu…in Russia…and even in that cell with Adrian Chase than now and he had survived. He would give as much as he could for Felicity.The nurse finished and left him there, shaking her head. She warned him to stay laying down or he may pass out. But Oliver wanted to get back to Felicity as quickly as possible.He stood, determined to hear the latest update…and promptly fell flat on his face.Oliver came to a little while later, with his sister sitting next to the bed in which he was laying. “Felicity?”“Still in surgery. You gave us quite a scare there, big brother. I see that no matter how much you’ve changed, your ability to make good choices when it comes to your safety remains the same.” Oliver opened his mouth to object, but Thea raised her hand to stop him. “It’s okay Ollie, I was joking. I know you would do anything for Felicity. And she saved our lives, so all of us would too.”She handed him a glass of juice and a sandwich. He consumed them quickly and asked for more. Maybe if he got his strength back, he could donate more blood for Felicity.“They used a lot of the blood that you donated, and said that she was starting to stabilize,” Thea told him as she handed him the new tray of food someone brought in. She grinned at him as he scarfed the food down. “You know, if Felicity knew it was your blood coursing through her veins, she would probably say something like ‘it feels good having you inside me.’ You know how she is.”Oliver chuckled at that, and smiled at the memory of her saying those words.“She said that once before, when I was talking in her earpiece on an undercover mission.”Thea laughed. “And that was probably before you were…whatever you guys are. What did you say?”“She said she was going to stop talking and I said that would be my preference.” Oliver grinned as he said it, but it dropped quickly. “Thea…I just want to hear her voice. I don’t want her to stop talking…ever.”Thea reached out and squeezed his hand.“I know, big brother. She’ll be fine. Felicity Smoak is the toughest woman I know. She’ll pull through.”As if on cue with his sister’s words, Diggle approached them with the news that Felicity was out of surgery, out of the woods, and moved into a private room. Still dizzy, Oliver relied on his friend’s steadying arm as he hurried to sit by her bedside. A sense of relief filled him when he saw her again. Still, with his blood running through her, it gave him comfort to know that a part of Oliver had been with her during her surgery.Now, if she would just wake up so he could see those blue eyes of hers. Watching her breath, he finally relaxed, and unclenched the fist he didn’t even realize he was still holding tight. The ring in his hand had left indents on his palm.No more regrets, he thought to himself. He vowed that someday soon, he would put this ring back on Felicity’s finger. And this time, it would not be coming off. |
11154660 | Put in a bullet and BANG | {
"Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P., Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon, Lee Seunghyun | Seungri, Kang Daesung, Dong Youngbae | Taeyang",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by lizzardsnake, misswinterfell",
"chapters": "4/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-09T00:00:00",
"words": "6,585",
"Additional Tags": "Side pairing: Nyongtori, Side pairing: TOPtori, Mafia AU, Hitman!T.O.P., Boss!G-Dragon, Alternate Universe, Drug Abuse, Violence, Torture, Sex",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P./Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon, Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P./Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon/Lee Seunghyun | Seungri",
"Series": "Put in a bullet and BANG BANG BANG",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Big Bang (Band), GTOP (Band)",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
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} | Kwon Jiyong built up his own empire. In a fearsome speed. He reigned Seoul by now. The city knelt in front of him without even knowing it.
By his side - always - his hitman. He was fast, silent, leaving a trail of dead bodies where ever he walked. A fearsome duo known as G-Dragon and T.O.P. None of them could blame a tragic childhood for their „misery“. No, there had always been that itch to conquer the world, making it kneel and burn. There had always been that slight cruel behaviour towards others – manipulation, threats, violence. After meeting they fueled one another. Making it even worse.
But they made it. Together. On top of the world.
As GD's business – YG Family – grew, they had made arrangements to secure Jiyong's safety - at least that's what Seunghyun told himself. That it wasn't Ji's urge for control and his distrust and mostly his boredom being the boss. (a bored Jiyong was even worse) No...
In the middle of their company they created a group. A kind of inner circle. Brothers. Big Bang. It included besides Jiyong - the mastermind called G-Dragon or short GD - and Seunghyun a.k.a T.O.P. as the right-hand-man:
Dong Youngbae alias Taeyang - their man for undercover work. He was a good talker, charming and quick to adjust. And a show-off...
Kang Daesung alias D-Lite - their contact man. Always smiling, an even smoother talker than YB. Not to mention: he always smiled. Even while cutting throats...
And then there was their youngest, their maknae - Lee Seunghyun known as Victory. Fitting name for one who had to play boss. Though, V.I. was their youngest and sometimes still quite naive, he was an excellent actor. But his best trait: getting what he wanted. Needed someone for the hard work? To beat someone into a mess? Get Ri. He enjoyed that more than he probably should. Bonus: Have a traitor to take care of? T.O.P.Ri were your men. Tabi was convinced: hadn't they picked him to play boss, Ri would have been in charge of their henchmen in less than a day.
They were a strange band of brothers. Well, maybe not that strange considered they were criminals. The criminals.
They might not have had any kind of conscious - no wonder considering how they made money - but they knew what loyalty meant. No matter what, the four henchmen („Boss? Can we call us the 'four horsemen'?“ - „No, Ri, shut up and move your ass to the meeting!“) were loyal to their boss. They were his. Period. No discussion there. The dragon told them to jump, they did knowing instinctively how high. He told them to jump of a bridge... well, keeping in mind one of them would drag Ji along, they would jump off the bridge no matter what. Each of them knew exactly: if one fell, all of them would follow. Beyond death. Their loyalty and trust had been the reasons why Jiyong picked them in the first place. It was hard to trust anyone. Not with the game they played.
So things happened. Naturally. When drunk, when high on adrenaline, when there were itches to scratch. No questions asked. Never. And the best thing: no strings attached there. Besides the loyalty, the feeling of family, of a home.
All five of them knew – paraonoid or not – only in that small circle was a safe haven for them. Imagine how they'd react if someone breached into their kingdom:The rumors of a mole in the midst of them had been true. A traitor. The worst of the worst, Seunghyun thought. And how do you treat the worst? With the worst you got yourself.Seungri's phone vibrated on the dark wood of his desk. Finally. „It's Chinwho. Taeyang's sure about it“, he told the other two – Tabi standing behind Seungri who was sitting in that way too comfortable leather chair. The hitman's arms rested on the back of it as he leaned forward to read the message. Jiyong leaned against the desk watching his men. Just thinking they had a traitor among them put his mood down. Actually have one was even worse.
GD wasn't a person who trusted that easily and of course not everyone. In fact, when it came to that topic he could count them on one hand. Seunghyun, Taeyang, Daesung and Seungri. Short: Big Bang. Oh and his hairdresser. Every now and then he had to change them, because they fucked up or they asked to many questions (they were always so chatty and noisy and sometimes he couldn't help himself and spill some beans) There were some tragic events among his past barbers, accidents, death in the family, you name it. Jiyong sighed, as he run his fingers into his now bright orange hair. It was so exhausting to find someone who just understood his damn job.So it was Chinwho. That rat.
He had expected it already. Always. Traitors everywhere he looked. It was easier to watch the company from within, not taking any spotlight, to the few who knew him he was just a little street gangster, a bit robbing here, a bit talking there, no big deal. Everyone would've laughed when they told them he was the man behind it. And they usually did, when he shared his little sectret. Their last blissful half an hour, or less. That's why he didn't want to sit in that big chair and stroke a white cat or some sorts, no, just being The Boss was so....boring.Instead it had become Seungri's job. At first the idea of someone impostering the boss sounded crazy to Tabi. Man, how should they have played that? Yeah, okay, most people hadn't seen Jiyong. And if, they usually died. With a nice bullet in their heads. A very pretty bullet. A gift from the dragon to Seunghyun. The colour of the metal always fitted his hair colour thanks to the boss since they started to make good money. It became the hitman's trademark. Making him the face people were scared of.A smirk tugged on T.O.P.'s lips as – in a practiced motion he had done over and over again – he followed Seungri, Jiyong beside him as they walked to the elevator at the end of the room. „The triads, huh?“, the eldest asked. Jiyong just nodded in response. „Thought so.“Seungri stepped into the elevator as soon as the doors had opened not listening to the conversation. Was there any anyways? His mind had already wandered off to what was going to happen: So, there's this asshole who betrayed them. Who had spilled secrets. And Ri, he would spill his blood for that. It was a weird kind of fun and the best excitement. He was going to step into a room with his hyung who let him do his favourite part of that job. Ri always got the first hit. Mentally and physically. In his mind formed a scenario already, how he was going to approach the mole. How he would threaten him. Scare him before his fist would meet his face.
He let his hyung stand in front of him. Their boss always in the centre. That's the rule.Anticipation filled the elevator as the trio stood there, waiting for the metal cage to arrive at the lower floors. Jiyong sighed a second time. He didn't know if he should be excited or just dissapointed.
Excited because they were going to stand in that room. Pretty cliché to be honest: dark, dirty, dim. Lights flickering and the rat bound to a chair with a black mask covering his face. Jiyong liked that. It had its own charm and whenever they were down there his two boys were so eager to give him a good show.
Disappointed because Chinwho betrayed them. Him. Simple as that. He was the one who took Chinwho in, gave him a job, a purpose, a goddamn family and that fucker? He bit the hand that fed him. Well, technically V.I.'s hand because for everyone he was the boss. But he was the one who felt the pain.The ping of the elevator pulled them back out of their thoughts. Seunghyun stepped out first, eyes scanning the hallway in front of him. It had become a natural habit of his. Always looking for danger. Even in their own kingdom. Especially when their safe haven had been broken in.
Tabi opened his jacket pulling out two black leather gloves he put on immediately. He came to a halt at a door to his left. It was made out of thick metal. Good enough to swallow screams. He put his hand on the handle looking back at Seungri and Jiyong.
„Ready?“, he asked left eyebrow raised and a grin on his face.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Ready?", Seunghyun asked, left eyebrow raised and a hint of a grin on his face. He opened the heavy metal door, stepping in first. He held it open for Jiyong and Seungri walking in before he let the door fall shut.
Moving around the chair, Seunghyun stood behind Chinwho who was bound to the wooden furniture. The hitman's eyes settled on the other two - Seungri standing right in front of the chair, G-Dragon standin behind him, balancing on his feet back and forth, arms swinging slightly. An unspoken question: Pull it off now? Fine.
And he did. The rat blinked his eyes. Though the light was dim, it was too light for someone who had been sitting in the dark. Chinwho's eyes shifted around the room, over Jiyong's and finally Seungri's face.
„Where... what? Oh God, b-b-boss!“, the man stuttered as Ri crouched down with a smirk. „Yes~?“, the youngest nearly purred. „I-i-i-it wasn't m——“
V.I. put his hand over the man's mouth. „Ahhh... Chinwho! Stop stuttering. You make me feel as if I already did something to scare you.“ He felt the irritated breathing of the man on the back of his hand. „Take a deep breath, Chinwo, and then you are going to tell me everything you did. Come on, be a good boy. It's your last chance, yeah?“ Seungri smirked. It was always so funny when they looked at him with eyes wide from fear. And peeing in their pants like little rugrats.
The mole nearly pissed himself when Seungri got so close, causing Jiyong to smirk. The rat was trapped between the youngest and eldest of his men. What a sight! Scary for those on the wrong side for sure.
„If I let go, you talk, yes? Good.“ V.I. let go whiping his hand on the man's shirt. „I-I-I haven't told them. No-not a... please... believ- T.O.P., man, I would... sir, I honest-“ The worm turned from Seungri to T.O.P. and finally to the dragon. Of course, he didn't talk. Just stuttering, lame apologies and begging... Nothing which interested Seoul's king.
Jiyong sighed again. "Oh, all this babbling. Chinwho, really? Bet you talked much more with the others, huh? Crawling so deep into their ass' until you came out of their mouths again. You. Are. Dis-gus-ting." GD looked at his nails - much more intersting, seriously. He just offered a short glance, seeing the confusion on the man's face. Ji couldn't blame him for that. "Ri? Would you mind loosening his mouth a bit? We really need to break the ice here."
Death sentence. The moment Jiyong spoke to the rat, Tabi knew how that was going to end. No doubt there anyways. What more did such bastards deserve, huh? Jiyong and Seunghyun worked together perfectly. Years over years of working together had melted them into a perfectly synchronized threat to the world. At times they didn't even need words to communicate. A glaze, a gesture - T.O.P. knew the signs.
„Ah, man, you ruined foreplay“, Victory pouted as he turned to look up at Jiyong. "Time is money, RiRi, time is money.", he singsang, standing on his tiptoes, grinning like a kid on christmas eve.
Usually GD really enjoyed the so-called foreplay but unfortunaly he had a little meeting at four, nothing really important but he didn't want rumours that he was not reliable of any kind - even for his small gangster image, he took everything seriously hence there was a reason why he became the King of Seoul so fast. "Besides, he's just shitting himself, you really don't wanna dwell on that for long, do you?"
And Victory did as he was told. He stood up, rolled his shoulders. „Oh well, then let's get to the real fun, shall we?“ His voice sounded cheerful but it was laced with a certain hint of threat. As if he had done something like that - like beating up and torture - more than once. And, yeah, he had since he worked for Jiyong.
Seungri curled his fingers to fists and lunged out. His right aiming at the rat's jaw. He then leaned down towards the man and grapped his jaw with his left. He waited a few seconds for a reaction which wasn't consisting of stammering and pleading, Ten seconds the rat had before Ri lunged his left at the man. The procedure went on a few times, blood splattered on Seungri's fingers.
Tabi had moved from his spot to a table at the long side of the room. With his back to the scenery he pulled out his gun. Making sure that the rat could see it if Seungri hit him right. In slow, controlled movements, the hitman checked his weapon. He took the bullets – in a white-gold tone – and lined them on the table. Counting them before putting them back one after another. Grinning at the small comments GD made while Seungri beat the shit out of the rugrat. The younger one was really good at throwing punches. And GD was really good at watching that.
"Oh! Oh right into the face! Ah, dang! Uh, that hurt, right? Good.", he giggled, hands on his face as if he couldn't watch the scenery, eyes poking out between his slim tattooed fingers anyway. Dissapointment slowly faded, as long as they caught them and no real information was spread that could harm them - everything was fine. More than that; he really began to enjoy their little sittings as a trio.
The dragon's face would've beamed by now but Chinwho didn't use the right words. Jiyong was just dancing around T.O.P - not really dancing, but a light walk with his own rhythm -, tracing the lines of Seunghyun's suit on his back briefly, an almost affectionate touch right before his hand dropped ice cold when Chinwo decided to talk.
„S-stop, please! I-I-I tell you! I was set up. Set up! I promise! It's that bastard Taeyang", Chinwho whined hoping to save his neck. Wrong, instead the bastard just signed up for some nice torture.
„Uh, dude. That's low“, Vi hummed, faking appal. Tabi put back the bullet magazine, a clicking sound filling the room. He placed the gun in the holster and moved around Seungri's back and left of the mole. In a swift movement Tabi grabbed the short hair in a tight, painful grip and pulled the man's head back starring down on him. „This ain't gonna end fast for ye, fucker.“
It was one thing to betray and hurt the king but blaming his family, his brothers, that was a no-go. A death sentence for sure but without a short-cut. Well, that made two on Chinwho's head then, almost impressive. Almost.
"Nah!"
T.O.P.'s attention shifted just in time to see a rusty saw fall to the ground. Right were Seungri had been standing just a second ago. „Fuck, G. That was fucking close!“, V.I. complaint. "Nope." With a loud KLUNK the machete followed.
Seunghyun watched the scenery. He chuckled.
The hitman couldn't remember when that had become part of their nature:
The moment Jiyong was around, both, Seungri and Seunghyun, were so eager to deliver a good show for their boss' entertainment. It was no competition between them but a feeling of satisfaction to see Ji's face lighten with amusement. A rush, a high better than any drug could provide. Daesung often mused that the reason why they clicked so well was due sharing the same first name. Maybe. Maybe it was just the fun of torturing and pain and fear. Maybe it was the adrenaline and endorphines that came along why they enjoyed the double sessions. And with Jiyong – it all had reached a completely new level. Soon after Jiyong had watched them the first time, after Seunghyun had seen the light in Jiyong's eyes – as if his hard-on wasn't evidence enough already – Seungri and Seunghyun enjoyed to perfectionate their teamwork for their boss' entertainment.
The threats, the punches, even T.O.P.'s little game with the bullets – of course it was meant to make the rat shit his pants. But it always swiftly turned into a show. Seunghyun had trouble to surpress a grin when he heard GD's comments. The little fucker loved to watch their maknae play. He couldn't blame him. It was indeed a nice view. Their baby brother had changed. No. Wrong. He had evolved.
There had been a slight shiver running down Tabi's spine when Jiyong's slim fingers had traced light patterns on his back. Tabi was a little lost in his thoughts, in listening to both his dongsaeng. A tingle, a foreshadowing about what was going to happen when they were done, spread through his body as well.
But that had to wait. Fuck entertainment if you spit on the family!
T.O.P.'s fingers dugged into the bastard's skull. Ah a little more and he might pull off his scalp. Hmmm tempting. But Tabi's attention shifted as he heard another clank. Followed by Ri's cursing before GD finally had found what he had been looking for.
G-Dragon turned around on his heels. "Chinwho, help me count." Jiyong held up his fingers. "Taeyang has...what? seven letters right?" A moment of silence, then he shook his head. "No, no don't aswer that. Let's use his real name, shall we? Youngbae. Eight letters. One more. Eight is a good number, don't you think? I have a thing for eight. My birthday has many eights." He chuckled, then he brought his face near their guest. T.O.P was so nice to hold him in place. "You have two options, Chinwho. Fingers or tooth. Choose wisely."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"You have two options, Chinwho. Fingers or tooth. Choose wisely."
Seunghyun's eyes were fixed on his dragon. There it was: the reason why he was king, his king , and noone else. The hitman's grip tightened again making sure the rat was looking at Jiyong as he talked to him. Just like the hitman's gaze was fixed on him. Their boss knew what he was doing. Knew it exactly what he was doing to him, to them.
Seungri had stepped back, crouched down and leaned his back against the wall as he watched the scenery in front of him. He licked his lips as he watched. „How 'bout last name as well? All ten fingers!“, he cheered, purring like a kitten which played with its prey.
"All of them! That's a nice idea!", G-Dragon stated, praising his brother. "But wait." He squinted his eyes as if he really had to think about something. "With the last name it's 12 letters." Jiyong took a step back. "No one has 12 fingers...or have you?" First he sounded mildly frustrated because now the number didn't match with the anatomical prospects anymore but then his voice raised a bit with curiosity.
„Then take some toes as well“, Seungri suggested leaning a little forward. His arms were resting on his knees, hands nearly touching the ground. He was ignored by their boss but Seunghyun snorted barely surpressing a grin. He felt the body shaking that still hung on the hair the hitman held between his fingers. Pathetic. And they hadn't even started yet.
"I-I, please...what...?" Chinwho stared bewildered at that question. "No, of course not...I-"
"Thought so.", GD cut him off, he raised his foot and put it on the chair, right between the rats legs (his snake-leather boots needed to go to the dry-cleaners soon anyway). Chinwho backed away. Well at least the whole two centimeter range he had. Seunghyun on the backside pressed his own knee against the man's back as he flinched away. Uh-oh, no getting away. He pressed harder against the small of the rat's back making him wince. He was trapped - as if he wasn't already - between T.O.P. and G-Dragon who leaned forward again, resting an arm on his own knee.
"What about your little wrinkled nuts down there? I think they count as fingers." GD put some pressure on the touch - not of the good kind. He didn't care what was under his boots: some rugrat testicle or little Chinwho. All that mattered to him was it hurt. Oh yeah and it did.
The youngest laughed when Ji suggested to cut of the bastard's balls. A chuckle, a mean one. „Yes, boss! Can I?“, he cheered, eager to get something to do – he had too much energy just to watch quietly. Seunghyun on the other hand just listened and grinned. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Victory slowly pacing the room, rounding them. Ah, he was so itchy. Poor little fucker always was.
The traitor whimpered, his lip trembling, he knew what was going to happen as Jiyong asked for some gloves and a nice knife with an angelic voice. V.I. obliged handing the dragon the items. "Oh god no, no, please." Chinwho tried to look around but his head was still in Seunghyung's tight grip. Jiyong observed the sharp knife in his hand, how it reflected that unnatural light down there, he blended his opposite a few times with it.
"You know, Chinwho, it's not a big loss, let's be honest here. I even doubt we'll find them because that moment-" Jiyong's nose almost touched the other's face. He absorbed that look of fear in those brown eyes, every please, no, don't, I'm begging you was just so delightful. "-that moment you opened your dirty little mouth to tell them my secrets, that moment your balls crawled back into your body and destroyed themselves." He put his foot down and Chinwho almost shrieked at that movement.
The rat was sobbing. How sorry he was and all that blah blah blaaah.
"Oh please, don't be such a crybaby", Jiyong growled with annoyance. How thrilling the begging was the first minutes it bored him to death quite quickly. "Do you really think I wanna see that degenerated thing? God, no.", he chuckled.
Tabi smirked in response. „I know what'cha wanna see“, he said. He didn't care what that piece of shit was thinking. He only had a few minutes – maybe hours if he wasn't such a loser as he seemed to be. Jiyong had raised an eyebrow at T.O.P's comment. "Is that so?", he mouthed but with a cheecky grin on his lips. Of course he knew.
G-Dragon laid the knife back to it's place, the gloves neatly beneath it. "You should break his fingers. Cutting them will have him bleed out too fast."
The hitman looked at Seungri as he let go of the traitor the moment Jiyong gave them the order. „You, the left“, he said and walked around onto the man's right. As soon as GD turned away from his boys, they started bickering. Left hand, right hand, everytime it was a big topic for them. Well, for Seungri, Seunghyun always made clear who was the one with the chosing privilege. „Always. Why can't I take the right for once, hyung? This ain't fair", the maknae complaint. „Right of the eldest. Now shut up, Ri, an' get to work."
Their conversation was drowned by the man's scream as Tabi broke the mole's pinky. Just a tight grip was all. Human bones were so fragile. Seungri grimaced: „You two ain't fun today.“ It was V.I.'s turn. He tipped on each finger counting. The middle finger. Another crack filled the room, another pained cry.
„Geez, Chinwho, just two fingers. Man up!“, Seungri taunted him. „When I was on the streets, they broke each single bone of my freakin' hand before I even winced!“ GD giggled: "It was just your wrist, don't exaggerate so much, RiRi."
„It wasn't just my wrist“, Seungri said with a slight pout. „My thumb as well! Oh... no wait. That was a different time. Heh. Sometimes I get confused, ye know?“ The maknae nearly sounded like an innocent child talking about his favourite pet. He looked at the rat excusingly and shrugged. The right middle finger. A crack. A scream.
Victory waited before he looked down at the man's left hand. 8 for Ji, 12 for for YB... „Hyung? Hyunnng~? What's your favorite number?“, Ri looked at Tabi - dark eyes staring him down - before he started to count again. „18“, Seunghyun answered not a bit irritated. He had watched Seungri choose what to do or to use next by counting rhymes or numbers. It was all a game for them after all. With his index, Ri tipped each of the fingers, wiggling alittle on the broken ones. One, two, three,... „Oh the middle again... well then...“ Crack. A scream. The left ring finger.
Jiyong loved Seungri's stories. Most of them were just to scare their victim, a better screenplay most of the time. But every now and then there were real happenings, something true weaved in and he smelled one in Ri's words. "Ooooh!" He came closer to the tree men, creeping up from behind. "That's something new."
That was a blunt lie. He knew exactly about what Victory was talking. As if his brothers could hide anything from him. They didn't have to tell him though, he just knew.
Seungri story time Tabi rolled his eyes. „Shut the fuck up. I swear to God, one day I'm gonna shove something into yer mouth.“ Jiyong's slim fingers slid along broad shoulders. „What the fuck are ye talkin' 'bout?“, Tabi raised his left brow.
Damn, Seungri's distraction didn't work. Another crack. The right ring finger. „You mean that one time you were too drunk to get it up?“, Seungri replied. A hint of mischief in his voice. Another crack. The left pinky. "Oh Tabi, you've never told me." He nudged his head on T.O.P's arm. The dragon-king leaned forward, poking one of Chinwho's broken fingers. Another scream in the basement. "Spill some details, Vi. Pleeeeeaseee", the dragon begged, pouting as he looked at Seungri.
„There ain't much to tell, ye kno-“, Vi started before he felt an arm wrap around his head, a hand covering his mouth: Tabi had let go of the man's hand - he had been ready to break the rat's right middle finger. Oh fuck, ye ain't gonna embarrass me! Instead he wrapped his hand from behind over Seungri's mouth. „Time's money. Didn't ya say that, G? No time for Ri's fairy tale", Seunghyun said with a grim look on his face.
Seungri grinned. Tounge darting out to lick over the leather. Damn gloves! Tabi cursed. Little shit! He might not feel much through the leather gloves but it was enough to know what Seungri did. Goddamit! The hitman shifted from one foot to the other feeling his boxers tightening slightly.
Jiyong watched them both, that dirty grin of the younger, the grim look on the older Seunghyun. Oh, how he loved that. They had something to discuss in a few minutes when he had to left the room. Just the imagination of them bickering even more, torturing the mole further made him all tingly between his legs. Now that neither of them had their attention on Chinwho's fingers he leaned closer, poking them again, counting. "Mhm, still not enough." He grabbed one, one of the already broken middle's and pulled it, yanking it to the side. "Uh, that looks unnatural. Oops." He shrugged.
Seunghyun pulled his hand off, giving their youngest brother a death glare which made him grin wider in return. „We gonna talk 'bout that later, ye little shit“, Tabi promised pointing at Seungri before he got back to their orignal work. Only to get distracted again.
"Boys, I have to go.", he sighed. "Meeting at four. I'll be back in an hour." He got on his tiptoes, placing a light kiss on Ri's left cheek, one on Tabi's right. It was totally out of this place, this situation, soft and loving. "It was fun like always.", he chirped, then there was a mischievous smirk on his face.
The hitman raised his left eyebrow when he felt soft lips on his cheek. „Who's with ye? Dae?“ If you listened closely there was a hint of worry in Seunghyun's deep voice. Just a tiny hint. Their boss without anyone companying him? Tabi would never let that happen. It was cute how the hitman worried about him, Jiyong thought. He caught that tiny glimpse in his voice everytime. Of course, he wasn't leaving alone.
"If you beat him into a bloody pulp and he's still breathing when I'm back, I might reward you for your hard work." But the sound of a reward whipped away any kind of worry. „Oh yish~ promised, boss! You're going to be very~ happy with us“, Seungri sing-sang. He looked at Ji with a wide grin. Of course they would make Jiyong proud, that's what he was expecting.... demanding. They weren't his beloved boys for no reason. „Ain't no reason to be so confident ye get any“, Tabi teased the maknae. Jiyong bit his lower lip, he knew what his words did to his brothers. Still, the bickering started again before both trailed of starring after GD leaving. For a moment the dragon enjoyed how they looked at him before he turned around, waving. "Behave!" He made sure they had a good look on his ass, as he moved slowly out of the room, banging the door shut loud.
Jiyong made his way through the building, whistling as he meet up with D-Lite. He knew going alone would make Tabi some kind of angry. Besides that, the younger man was always a good company, a smooth talker and even smoother smiling. He loved his smile.
„You're sick!", Chinwho grunted as soon as he was alone with his two torturers. "All of you! What the fuck is wrong with you?“
Both Seunghyuns turned back facing the rat they had totally forgotten about. The rat still was a human being able to speak. „Ay, look who's talking!“, V.I. hummed and leaned a little closer before he turned his face looking at T.O.P. „Just two fingers left each.“ A crack. A scream. Right index finger. „No, two for you, one for me“, the hitman grinned.
A good hour and... ten broken fingers, at least two broken rips – of course none too close to the lungs – three teeth lying on the floor, several bruises as well as cuts and a broken chair later:
Seunghyun leaned against the wall, cigarette between his lips. Seungri sat on the table beside him. Legs crossed, arms resting on his tights, his left hand supporing his chin.
„I'm bored“, the younger whined. „Shut up!“ „How 'bout we break his toes?“ „That bastard's already unconcious.“ „Maybe he wakes up then.“ „Geeez, he ain't woken up at the last few punches ye landed on his face.“ „Hyung? Did his chest just stop rising?“„Fuck!“
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
„Hyung? Did his chest just stop rising?“
„Fuck!“
Jiyong and Daesung got over with the meeting real quick: some talking, some nodding, some useless informations. It wasn't that promising, as expected. "Tell your boss, we're awaiting an answer in the next two days!“, the contact-man told them. They would get one. Probably white-gold bullets in their heads. Fuckers.
The meeting lasted an hour, just like G-Dragon had predicted. Slightly frustrated he arrived back at their headquarters. Jiyong run his fingers through his hair, slicking it back as he steadily made his way to the basement. Getting closer with each step, he got his head on other thoughts again. Looking forward to the sight he would get any moment. The traitor beaten down into a mess, gotten the blows he deserved. And his Seunghyuns - all bloody knuckles and stained suits.
The dragon slid in, watching the men standing before Chinwho. His hard-on was growing again, making his trousers feel slightly uncomfortable.
„Daddy's home!“, he announced with cheerful excitement.
Tabi pushed himself off of the wall, Seungri followed suit. The hitman gripped the rat's hair and pulled his head back. With his free with leather covered one he grapped Seungri's left and held it close to the moles face. „Yeah, still breathing“, Seungri sounded reliefed. That was close...
T.O.P. let go of Chinwho's hair with a slight push forward. The chains the rat was hanging on from the ceiling rustled. Seunghyun stepped back looking the mole up and down, frowning. „Why did that asshole betray the boss, huh? Shithead's got everything he needed – job, money, someone to fuck. I ain't get it.“
Seungri shrugged stepping besides his eldest brother. „No clue. Can't imagine having more fun with some other psychos but you guys.“ Tabi grinned ruffling through V.I.'s hair. „Think, the boss' gonna like this“, Tabi appreciated their work. „Yeah, he better does“, frowned Seungri looking at his fingers. „There's blood on my favourite ring.“ Seunghyun sighed. He put his right arm on Ri's left shoulder using him as armrest. „Why the fuck ain'tcha wearing gloves? Ah, no, no, no. Please, don't say anything. I know. Because ye sicko love to feel-“, he was cut off by the maknae. „-the bones breaking under their skin“, Seungri finished with a grin. „And the ring left some nice marks, look!“ V.I. reached for Chinwho's chin lifting and turning his head to show Tabi the cuts on the rat's face.
"Daddy's home!"
But the hitman wasn't looking at Chinwho nor listening to Seungri. He turned his head to see who dared to interrupt them. But the questioning look turned into a grin. Seunghyun put out his cigarette on Chinwho's arm which was closest to him as Seungri let go of the man's chin smiling widely. „Ah, we missed you, daddy“, Tabi smirked and stepped a little to the side to present their piece of art. „Homework finished“, Seungri added happily mirroring his hyung's movement.
Jiyong observed their work, noticing all the bruises, the cuts, the anatomically incorrect looking broken fingers. "Excellent.", he praised. He walked towards them, picking a tooth from the floor on his way. "The moles molar.", he snickered. "With the root. Mhm, beautiful.", he acknowledged and held it beween his thumb and index, before he threw the thing away to the side like it was trash. He walked past them, leaning forward to Chinwho, checking his breathing. He was still alive. More or less.
Seunghyun let his eyes trail over their boss' body, stopping in the middle. „I see, yer happy with us.“ Jiyong turned around, purring his answer: "I'm always happy to see my boys doing their job." T.O.P. hummed: "Always here to please ye“, A hint of a smirk flickered over his face. "How's the meeting?" His question was answered with annoyance distorting Jiyong's features. "The meeting sucked. Arrogant scum, thinking they have something to say. Talking big but don't know shit. I don't want them around." It was obvious to Kwon Jiyong that he had no use for those suckers. Later he'd tell T.O.P whom to shoot or whose tongue to cut out.
Seunghyun's face turned back to its usual stoic expression. So, another few heads on his list. „Thinking 'bout changin my hair colour“, he simply added to GD's remarks - the dragon loved Tabi's hair. Black, platin, blue - there wasn't a colour that made this man less attractive. But the hitman'd need new bullets when he re-dyed his hair. For now though, he didn't want to think about those idiots or which whatever-coloured bullet would end their misery of a life. Why keeping busy with such unnecessary things when he had those two pretty henchman around?
Seungri poked the hanging shit, fingers digging into bruises and wounds. "I see you were more than sucessful", G-Dragon approved. He softly grabbed Seungri's hand. His gaze wandering over the youngest bloody knuckles, fingers playing with Ri's ring. "All the fun without me and now he's unconscious. What a bummer." Seungri's eyes shifted to Jiyong. He flexed his fingers, making the slight wounds on his skin move. „Wasn't that funny without you, boss. Tabi-hyung doesn't understand my jokes“, the panda pouted.
Seunghyun snorted, about to retort something when Jiyong got closer. "Do you think you deserve a reward?", Ji whispered into Tabi's ear, hand slipping up his chest. With the man pressed against him, V.I. suddenly became that much more irrelevant. His arm snaked around GD's waist, fingers sliding down to his ass pushing him closer, squeezing lightly. A quiet moan slipped passed G-Dragon's lips. „The hell I do, Ji. Right now, actually“, Tabi answered and leaned closer. "You sure about that?", GD said with a smirk. The dragon wrapped his arms around Tabi's neck. Their bodies pressed together. „The bastard is out for good anyways. Let Ri watch 'im and get us when the shithead wakes up.“
The youngest looked at his hyung. „Oi! I hear you! I ain't gonna babysit that brick!“, Seungri complaint and leaned over G-Dragon's shoulder – chest on back, warm hands on Ji's shoulder – to stare at his eldest brother. He tried to poke his hyung with his right index finger which Tabi caught in a tight grip. „Careful, ye little shit. Or I accidentally break another finger today.“ Seungri pulled his finger out of Tabi's grip. The look he gave him was a mix of a pout and being pissed like a cat you've pulled on its feet.
The dragon let his head fall back, resting it on Seungri's shoulder. "Mhm, our little brother is right. Chinwho is boring, he won't wake up so soon." Jiyong licked his lips. "Let him watch us." His warm breath was against Ri's skin as he looked up to Seungri. "He could learn a thing or two ... what do you have in mind, hyung?" T.O.P licked his lips, gaze fixed on the other's mouth as he was talking before flickering to the youngest. There was a hint of surprise, of anticipation and, oooh, was he nervous all of a sudden? T.O.P. grinned. „What'cha think? On yer knees between my legs“, the hitman suggested.
God, how much Tabi wanted his boss right there, right then. Fuck the bastard or Seungri watching them! Hearing Jiyong moan, even if it was barely audible, always made the hitman weak. As much as dirty ideas whispered against his - or in that case Seungri's - skin. Seunghyun closed the short distance between them when Jiyong leaned his head back against Seungri. Lightly he bit into Ji's neck, licking over it before he stopped. Seunghyun's gaze settled on Seungri again for a moment. „Bu' actually: e'erythin' ye want, boss“, he said in a deep purr. |
11135715 | Invincible | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Danny Reagan, Linda Reagan, Jack Reagan, Kathleen Artuso-Reagan, Sean Reagan, Grace Reagan, Faith Reagan, Sam Reagan, Charlie Reagan, Maddie Reagan",
"Fandom": "Blue Bloods (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by BabyBoomBoom0029",
"chapters": "21/21",
"completed": "2017-06-18",
"published": "2017-06-08T00:00:00",
"words": "28,630",
"Additional Tags": "Love, Drama, Family, Romance, Jamie and Margaret cuteness",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Danny Reagan/Linda Reagan, Jack Reagan/Kathleen Artuso-Reagan",
"Series": "On Your Side: The Chronicles of Danny and Linda Reagan",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | Linda Reagan walked through the parking lot of the 54th precinct. It was an early fall morning and the weather was beautiful. Danny had left for work before she and the kids had gotten up that morning. When Linda opened the fridge seeing his lunch still inside she presumed he must have left in a hurry. Once Faith, Sam, and Grace were off to school for the day Linda dropped her two grandchildren at daycare. Two days a week she took to herself to run errands or use the time to clean the house while she had no kids around. Today, however, she decided to surprise her husband with lunch in the office if he had some time. Linda knew it wasn't always a guarantee she'd get more than a minute or two but with nothing to do until it was time to pick the babies up, the drive to Manhattan wasn't too far on a chance lunch date. Linda walked through security feeling an odd sense of home whenever she walked in. Danny had been with the NYPD for so long she knew most of the seasoned officers by name just as much as Danny did. Linda frowned seeing his office door shut."Hey, Linda!" Detective Beaz smiled. When Danny was promoted Maria was assigned a new partner who now resided at Danny's old desk."How are you?" Linda hugged her tight, "Sorry about having to skip lunch the other day. Maddie was so fussy. She's got two teeth coming in at the same time and she's not sleeping because of it. So she's overtired, cranky and doesn't feel well at all lately." "It's okay. I was called to a scene anyway." Beaz said. The two women still remaining close friends even after Danny's promotion, "What are you doing here? Everything okay?""Danny forgot lunch in the fridge. Since I was around I figured I'd stop by. Is he in?" Linda asked."He was on the phone a few minutes ago but I'm sure he wouldn't mind you sneaking in there." Beaz grinned."Got it." Linda said, "Oh and Grace has those candles to sell from the school again. Let me know what you want and I'll make sure to put it on the order form." She smiled."That's great. Thanks!" Beaz said as Linda sneaked into Danny's office.Linda frowned seeing Danny turned around in his chair. She quietly shut the door behind her."No!" Danny yelled at whoever he was talking to, "You can't just go off like that! You need to wait for back-up before running into a situation!" He yelled, "Because it's not just your ass on the line out there!" Danny growled, "Fine! You want to act like you're the top dog out there?! Let's see how you act after riding a desk for a week!" Danny slammed the phone down on whoever he was yelling at. Danny rubbed his temples. He didn't realize until he sat in the chair just how much of a headache it could be to be in charge of a whole department full of Detectives who were all trying to be the next 'Danny Reagan'. "Hey." Linda said softly not wanting to startle her husband. She could tell he didn't notice her when he turned around.Danny looked up, "What are you doing here Linda?" Danny snapped at her. Residual anger and irritation at the tip of his tongue."You forgot your lunch. I was out running around and thought I'd stop by." Linda explained. She walked over to his desk, leaning on it, "I'm sorry you're having a rough day." She put her hand on his shoulder."Yes. It's a rough day. I don't need you here being distracting. I'm busy. I have a meeting with the PC later to discuss this idiot I just got off the phone with. I have things to do." Danny's irritation from work carrying over to his wife, "Thanks for lunch. I have another phone call to make if I have any chance of getting out of work before the kids go to sleep tonight. I'll see you at home." Danny said frustrated with everything at the moment.Linda kissed his cheek tenderly not taking his tone of voice to heart. She knew he was in a bad mood and the anger wasn't directed at her, "I love you." She said softly hoping those three words would help him feel a little better.Danny sighed. He took his wife's hand in his, stopping her from walking away, "Let me at least walk you to your car." He said apologetically."Danny." Linda smiled warmly, "There's probably about a hundred cops outside that door that wouldn't hesitate to drop everything and escort the sergeant's wife to her car if necessary. But I think I can handle it on a Monday morning." Linda kissed him again, "Make your phone calls and eat that before it gets cold." Linda said, "I love you.""Thank you." Danny said sincerely, "I love you. Let me know when you get home.""I will." Linda closed his office door behind her hoping his day would get better. On her way home Linda decided to stop at the store to pick up groceries so she could make one of Danny's favorite dinners. He'd always loved her roast chicken and Linda had plenty of time on her hands while the kids weren't home.By the time she had to pick up Charlie and Maddie from daycare she had everything prepared and the chicken in the oven ready to be turned on when she got home. Linda knew Danny was having a hard time adjusting to his new position. She never imagined the trouble that would come when one of their own children became the center of an investigation in the 54th precinct.Linda wasn't entirely surprised when she received a text from Danny saying he'd be home late. She wrapped his plate and put it in the fridge with a note asking him to wake her when he got home. Linda fell asleep in nothing but her husband's NYPD t-shirt knowing that when he'd had a hard day like it seemed he did today, being intimate was always one of the things that helped distract him from the stress of the day. Linda was happy to oblige after seeing just how stressed he'd already been by lunch time.Linda woke up to Danny sliding his arms around her waist, "I'm sorry." He pulled her close, "I didn't mean to yell at you today. I was irritated and I took it out on you. I'm sorry." He whispered. Danny kissed his wife's neck before moving up to her lips, "I'm sorry." He murmured, "I love you."Linda smiled against his lips, "I love you. It's okay. I know you weren't mad at me." "It's not okay." Danny shook his head, "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. You were trying to be amazing and wonderful and sweet and I was a jerk.""I mean it's okay because I know you didn't mean it. You were frustrated and it just came out." Linda wrapped her arms around his neck, "Did the rest of your day get any better?" She asked.Danny sighed, "No. Not until I came home and had a delicious dinner, kissed my amazing babies and tucked them in tight, then slipped into bed next to my gorgeous wife." He said appreciatively."Then I think this day calls for me taking care of you." Linda gently rolled them over so Danny was on his back, "After all." She rubbed his shoulders, "You've had a long hard day and I know you'll be too stressed to sleep. So I'm going to fix that.""Yeah?" Danny grinned."Yup." Linda kissed him cheekily before loving her husband as much as he'd loved her many times over. Danny had to give her credit. She was right. He slept like a rock with his body tangled up in hers holding her close. Never in his wildest dreams did he envision what was to come across his desk in just a few short weeks. The stress from today would seem like nothing compared to the stress he would feel seeing that name on a police file.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The following morning Linda woke up to Danny once again leaving for work early in the morning, "Everything okay?" Linda rolled over watching Danny as he got dressed."Yeah. Just work." Danny holstered his weapon and slipped his wallet into his back pocket. He walked over to the bed, leaning over his wife, "Have I told you how much I love you?" Danny kissed her sweetly."Not in the last ten minutes." Linda smiled, "But I always know it."Danny kissed his wife again, "I love you. You're wonderful." Danny sat on the edge of the bed, "I'll call you later." Danny sighed."You come home to me okay." Linda hugged Danny tightly."Always." Danny said softly wishing he could stay in bed with his wife. After the stressful start to his week, Danny wasn't looking forward to the rest of the week. Linda watched as Danny quietly left their bedroom heading to work. Linda rolled onto her side putting her head on Danny's pillow taking a deep breath hoping to fall back asleep before the kids got up for school that morning."Babe, have you seen my keys?!" Jack hollered at Kathleen who lay in bed nursing, Maddie."Next to your wallet!" Kathleen yelled back.Jack looked around the living room, "Have you seen my wallet?!" Jack needed to get going. If he didn't leave soon, he'd be late."Diaper bag?!" Kathleen guessed. She'd never understood how Jack survived on his own without her seeing as how they did the same routine every morning. Jack walked around their apartment hunting for things he needed while Kathleen helped find them.Jack ran into the bedroom still putting his jacket on, "Found it." He kissed his wife's lips then daughter's head, "Bye. Love you two!" Jack ran out of the apartment, being sure to lock it behind him.Jack drove as quickly as he could. He parked with only five minutes to spare. He was surprised to see his Grandfather walking through the parking lot when he parked his car."Running late?" Frank smirked."I have five minutes before I'm late." Jack checked his watch."Just a word of advice. Five minutes early is on ten minutes late." Frank said, "Now move it.""Yes, Sir." Jack nodded his head before rushing into the building before his Grandfather entered. It was hard enough being a Reagan. He didn't need to show up with the Police Comissioner at his side."Hey, Mom!" Sean called from the front door, "C'mon Charlie.""No! Daddy 'tay!" Charlie clung to his father."I know you want Daddy to stay. And I'm sorry you're cranky but I have to go to school." Sean sighed. Charlie had been up all night long and Sean had no clue why. All he knew was that it resulted in a cranky, fussy toddler."What's wrong Charlie?" Linda walked over to her grandson."Wan' Daddy!" Charlie cried."Daddy will be home soon. Come play." Linda pried the toddler from his father's arms."Daddy!" Charlie wailed."I'm sorry." Sean said feeling horrible that Charlie was crying for him."Alright. Tell Daddy bye bye and maybe after a nap, we can go to the park." Linda held her wiggly grandson."Daaaaaddddddyyyy!" Charlie continued to cry."Oh, Charlie." Sean sighed."It's okay, Sean. He'll be fine in a few minutes. Go to class. He will calm down soon." Linda smiled, "I promise. Now go so you're not late." Linda half-pushed her son out the door. She held a crying Charlie as they watched Sean drive away. Linda hugged Charlie, "It's okay. Your Daddy will be home soon." Linda hoped this wasn't a sign of how the day was going to be with both babies.By the end of the day, none of the Reagan's had a good day. Charlie hadn't stopped being fussy all day, and Maddie was running a low fever. Jack had to listen to Frank talk to his whole class about the importance of being on time and responding quickly, knowing part of that entire lecture was a grandfather reprimanding his grandson. Kathleen's car broke down and needed a tire change on the side of the road. Sean had thought it was Wednesday instead of Tuesday and started his day off on the wrong class schedule. Danny was working late again while Frank and Danny argued most of the day over the punishment Danny handed out to one of his officers who disobeyed a direct command over the weekend.When Frank came home and poured himself a drink before even greeting Linda and the kids, she knew it was a bad day. Danny came home two hours later and did the same thing his father had done. Poured himself a glass of whiskey. Danny sat down beside Linda who was on the couch with a glass of wine."I take it you had a bad day?" Linda asked."I'd much rather hear about your day." Danny said honestly."It was okay. Charlie was cranky all day but the second he saw Sean he was happy again. Maddie doesn't feel the best but I'm not sure if it's teething or she's getting sick." Linda frowned, "With Grace, Faith, and Sam in school, God only knows what they are bringing home each day." Linda curled next to Danny, "Grace has a field trip to the zoo coming up. She came home with the permission slip in her backpack. She wants to know if Daddy can go. Faith pushed a boy on the playground who was picking on Sam because he doesn't talk as well as the other kids and the school wants to have a meeting about it. They want to try speech therapy to help him with how he pushes all his words together and slurs some of them." Linda relayed the information from each of the kids day at school and home with her, "You still haven't eaten dinner." She noted, "There's a plate in the fridge for you.""I ate at work. But thank you." Danny wrapped an arm around his wife needing to feel her comfort, "I never thought I'd see the day when the commissioner gets mad at a sergeant for reprimanding a detective who didn't listen to his commanding officer and got hurt as a result of it. If that was me he'd have been the first one to want me on desk duty.""Maybe he's trying to make sure you don't come down too hard." Linda suggested."I don't know." Danny ran his fingers through Linda's hair."Well, in any case, I'm sure you'll do what's appropriate and what you think is best. Even if Frank doesn't agree." Linda kissed her husband's cheek.Danny sat sipping his drink while holding his wife close. Not only did he have a bad day it seemed that Linda and the kids had bad days today too. Danny squeezed Linda tight, hoping tomorrow would bring a better day for the Reagan family.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
By the end of the week, it seemed every Reagan had a bad week. Maddie still wasn't feeling well and was catching the beginning of a cold, passing it on to Charlie who had kept his Daddy up and down every night this week. Jack had a seen just how much there was to learn about being a cop and was quickly getting overwhelmed while Kathleen found out two of her classes required her to spend hours outside of school and work to follow around a social worker and journal their day to day work, meaning she'd have to cram that in between, work, school and being a mother and wife. Jamie had sprained his wrist while chasing after a perp. Margaret had pulled the short straw at the hospital working two weeks of night shifts in a row. Frank and Danny were still arguing with each other about what Danny did with his detectives. Nicky was let go from her hourly job and was searching for another one with no prospects while Erin was dealing with a tough case at work. Even Grace, Faith, and Sam fell into bad moods by the end of the week. Linda had tried to make the days better but it didn't seem to help. Sean stayed over for dinner hopeful that he could suggest his mom and dad keep Charlie overnight so he could sleep a whole night.The Reagan family sat around the table eating quietly with minimal conversation. Linda reached over and squeezed Danny's hand flashing him a small smile. Danny kissed the back of his wife's hand before letting go to check the text he'd just received. Danny frowned, "I'm sorry. I have to go to work." He looked across the table at his father who had answered his phone call."Everything alright?" Linda asked."No." Danny shook his head."What's going on?" Sean asked watching his Grandfather check his phone too."Nothing you need to worry about." Frank smiled at his Grandson."Sorry, honey. I gotta go." Danny kissed his wife, "Love you." He said as he quickly stood up, "You coming?" He asked his father."I'll meet you there." Frank said knowing Danny had to leave immediately. When the text from Garrett came through and Jack's name was first and foremost, Frank knew Danny wasn't just leaving as a cop. He was leaving as a father first.Kathleen had just finished her shift at the daycare and was headed home on the subway. She stepped out of the subway car texting Jack that she'd be home in a few minutes. After they got back from their family vacation Jack and Kathleen had found a small house only ten minutes from Jack's parents in Brooklyn. The rent was incredibly affordable but Jack had a feeling that had a lot to do with the fact that the owner of the house used to be close friends with his late great-grandfather, Henry Reagan. Even Danny and Linda were surprised to hear about the deal Jack and Kathleen landed. Kathleen walked up the steps to hail a cab for the rest of the way home not wanting to walk in the dark if she didn't have to when someone stood beside her a bit too close for her liking."Excuse me." The man smiled at her. Kathleen ignored him and stepped to the side only to have the man follow her, "I said excuse me.""What?" Kathleen responded."Where are you headed?" He asked."Away from you." Kathleen sighed figuring she'd call Jack and see if he wanted to just come pick her up down the street. She knew Maddie was probably asleep but it would be better than standing next to this creep."Aw, c'mon baby. I just want to have some fun with you." The man grabbed Kathleen around the waist pulling her towards him, "C'mon. Anyone as fine as you deserves to be on my show." He pointed to the body camera he was wearing."Get off me!" Kathleen pushed him away."Just a little love? You're so pretty!" The man tried to grab Kathleen again but she dodged him and ran. He ran after her, "Fun Rob wants love. Fun Rob wants love!" He laughed hysterically, "Get back here!" He was able to grab onto her backpack and pull her down to the ground."Leave me alone!" Kathleen yelled.He stood over top of her laughing loudly, "Fun Rob likes you!" He grinned. As the man leaned over Kathleen, she swiftly kicked him in the gut pushing him back with enough force that he stumbled backward, falling down the stairs she'd just come up from. The man screamed in pain as his head slammed against the cement steps. A crowd quickly gathered taking pictures with their phones and calling nine-one-one."You dumb bitch!" A tall thin woman who looked just a little younger than Kathleen ran over, "It was a joke! He wasn't going to do anything to you! He was making a movie! What did you do!? Look at him! Rob!" She screamed as she ran down the steps, "It was a joke! A damn prank for his show! Oh my God! Someone call an ambulance!"Kathleen shook as she stood up. What would possess anyone to prank someone by attacking them? She did the only thing she could think of. She called her husband.When Danny arrived at the scene Kathleen and Jack were standing next to Jack's car while Maddie slept inside in her car seat. Two officers stood near them while Rob was still being loaded into an ambulance. Danny walked straight to Kathleen, "Are you okay?" He asked her.Kathleen nodded her head, "Yeah. I think so." Kathleen wrapped her arms around herself, "I didn't know it was a prank. I just reacted. He pushed me to the ground and I fought back.""You can't get in trouble for defending yourself after someone tried to attack you. Even if they said it was all a joke." Jack wrapped his arms around his wife's waist."Have you talked to anyone yet?" Danny asked, "Did you see an EMT?"Kathleen nodded her head, "That Detective over there took my statement and the EMT said I was okay.""Okay. You two stay right here." Danny told them both."...That stupid bitch tried to kill him!" A shrill voice was heard through the crowd.Danny looked over where Rob's girlfriend was hysterically yelling at police, "I'll be right back." Danny said to his children, "Don't move." Danny walked over to where the officer was trying to calm down Rob's girlfriend, "Miss. Can I help you?""Yes! You can arrest that psycho woman for assault! She almost killed my boyfriend!" The woman shook her head."What's your name?" Danny asked."Laura." She said."Alright, Laura. Let me make sure I have this straight." Danny said, "Your boyfriend, Rob, thought a fun prank would be to assault a woman and make her think she was about to be raped. The woman defends herself and Rob gets hurt. And you're mad at the woman?" Danny asked."Hello!? She tried to kill him! He was just messing around with her! He does it all the time! Rob has his own channel on the internet. Rob's Radical Real Life. He does all sorts of dares live because it's fun to watch. Then she comes along and ruins it by almost killing him! Aren't you going to arrest her?!" The woman screeched."You want me to arrest an innocent woman for defending herself?" Danny asked."She could have killed him!" Laura sighed."She thought he was going to kill her or rape her." Danny countered."But he wasn't. It was just for the camera." Laura tried to explain."Look. You can be charged with assault like your friend in the coma. Want my advice? Go away, while you still can." Danny said to her.Danny watched as Laura stalked away from the police tape. Danny walked back over to Kathleen and Jack."Am I going to be arrested?" Kathleen looked at Danny.He shook his head, "You were protecting yourself. You can't get arrested for that. That kid might have been making a movie but he didn't tell you about it and he surprised you and attacked you. There's nothing they can say about you keeping yourself safe." Danny said, "They might want to talk to you when that kid wakes up though." Danny said to her.Kathleen nodded, "Are you sure?" She asked praying he was right."I'm sure." Danny hugged his daughter-in-law, "I'm going to take care of everything." He promised. Danny wasn't prepared for just how far he'd see Kathleen stumble. How the events of the night would cast a shadow on the Reagan no one was able to get out of.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Three days later Kathleen's fifteen minutes of fame revolving around the case came to a close when they found another story to run over the weekend. She'd thought things were settling down. Rob wasn't pressing charges seeing as how it was a sure thing that he'd lose. However, his video channel on the internet had been shut down. The media put the blame on Rob and how his pranks may have gone viral most of the time but were always putting someone else in danger. Most of the internet agreed that what Kathleen did was a public service to all women targeted by "Fun Rob's" pranks. Almost a week after the incident, Kathleen had a canceled class so she decided to drop by Danny and LInda's to pick up Maddie early. After talking with her mother-in-law about running errands they decided to head out together for the afternoon taking Charlie along as well."We should pick up something for Sunday dinner while we are out too." Linda said, "Danny had said something about Jamie wanting to grill out since it's supposed to be so nice out. You want anything in particular?" Linda asked while pushing Charlie in the cart."I think that really depends on Jamie's grilling skills." Kathleen laughed.Linda grinned, "True. Jamie is the one that started a small kitchen fire once.""Oh, I've done that. Jack put it out with the fire extinguisher." Kathleen admitted."And you two asked why Danny insisted on putting one under the kitchen sink." Linda smirked. She picked up a few boxes of cereal for the kids before pushing Charlie down the aisle."It wasn't a big fire. Just a tiny one." Kathleen followed her mother-in-law around the store, "Oh, one of my classes is planning a Halloween carnival for kids in October. I thought it would be really fun to have Grace, Faith, and Sam come. Charlie too." "That sounds like fun. Is it for a grade?" Linda wondered."We get credit hours for working it and I'm trying to get as many hours as I can in. Especially because I can take Maddie with me." Kathleen said putting some jars of baby food in her cart.Linda grabbed some jars to keep at the house, "Are you dressing her up?""I think so. I don't know. I'll probably keep her in the carrier on my chest most of the night so if I do dress her up I'll have to figure out what I can be too. I think I might try to get Jack to dress up too." Kathleen said."Jack hasn't dressed up for Halloween since he was a kid. I'd love to see him dress up for a family costume." Linda laughed."Did you and Danny ever dress up for the kids?" Kathleen put a gallon of milk in the cart."When they were really little but Danny usually worked Halloween so when he was around he was just stopping by to say hi. I dressed up when they were really little but not so much as they got older." Linda said, "Oh grab me one too, please." She pointed to the milk."See Jack isn't a cop yet. He can't get away with that yet. He's going trick-or-treating with us and coming to the carnival." Kathleen said as they continued to the checkout lines."If you get him to dress up you three have to stop by the house." Linda grinned."Oh yeah. And we'll take a ton of pictures." Kathleen laughed, "I should think of something he has to wear tights for." Kathleen smiled wide, "Maddie could be Tinkerbell, I could be Wendy and Jack could be Peter Pan!" "That's perfect!" Linda giggled. The two women paid for their groceries and headed out to Linda's car.Once they were home Linda was the first to notice something was wrong. There was something stuck to Kathleen's windshield on her car she'd left parked on the side of the street, "Stay here." Linda told Kathleen. She pulled her phone out and walked to Kathleen's car. A paper was stuck under the windshield wipers. Linda looked at the note. Only one word was written across the center of it.'bitch'Linda frowned not having any idea who could have put the note there. It was then she realized two of Kathleen's tires were flat. Linda knelt down carefully to inspect the front passenger tire. She was surprised to see it was flat because it was slashed. Linda felt something stir in the pit of her stomach."Kathleen, let's get the kids and bags inside." Linda said already sending a text to Danny."What's going on?" Kathleen asked hearing how worried her mother-in-law sounded."It's fine. Let's just get everyone and everything inside then I'm going to call Danny." Linda said hoping he'd read his messages soon. Less than five minutes later her phone was ringing, "Danny." Linda answered."What's wrong?" He asked while sitting in his office."Kathleen and I ran to the store with Charlie and Maddie. When we came home that note I texted you a photo of was on her windshield and both front tires on her car are slashed. She was parked outside the house. We took my car to the store." Linda said."Is everyone okay?" Danny started getting his things ready to leave work and come home."Yeah. We're fine." Linda looked over to where Charlie swiped a toy from Maddie, "Charlie give that back! You need to share!" Linda reprimanded him."Are you inside the house?!" Danny asked incredulously.Linda paused, "Uh...Yes. The house was locked up. It's fine." Linda tried to calm her husband down."Someone slashed Kathleen's tires outside the house and you take her and two small children inside the house without having it cleared first?" Danny asked."Danny." Linda sighed."Linda." He said back in the same tone."How long have I been a cop's wife?" She asked. Hearing silence from him she continued, "The house was fine. It was locked and no sign of anyone inside or that anyone tried to come inside." Linda told him."Still. I'm sending a radio car over until I get there." Danny said."Who is it?" Linda asked. She'd become more cautious of making sure she knew what officers were coming to the house. There'd been far too many times where someone impersonated NYPD to get to the Reagan family."Let me see, Officers Taryn and Morganson are in the area. I'll get them to sit on the house." Danny told her."Okay." Linda nodded her head."I love you." Danny told her as he turned off his computer at work."I love you." Linda replied softly. Linda hated that she had such a bad feeling. She wished it would go away. Linda wasn't prepared for her daughter-in-law and son to quickly become the center of an investigation that would test the limits of their marriage.
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Finding nothing from the slashed tires or the note the Reagans were left scratching their heads wondering who could have done such a thing to Kathleen's car. Danny had a CSU team crawl over every inch of the car only to find nothing. The note didn't have any fingerprints on it and the tires held no evidence of who slashed them. Danny was sure to keep officers on his house as well as Jack and Kathleen's just as a precaution.That Sunday at dinner the topic of who could have wanted to go after Kathleen was the main topic. The small children had been excused from the table while the adults sat around drinking coffee and having dessert."What about that guy, Rob?" Margaret asked."He's not in the City. It couldn't have been him." Jamie shook his head."He had a solid alibi and timed surveillance footage of him nowhere near the house." Danny said."And Dad's been over everyone at Kathleen's work and in her classes." Jack put his arm around Kathleen's shoulders."And I'm having Garrett help me go through anyone in Jack's academy class." Frank sighed."We're just hoping it was someone that wanted to scare her and that's the end of it." Danny replied."Nothing else has happened since?" Linda asked.Kathleen shook her head, "No. Nothing. There have been the officers outside the house since it happened and nothing weird had gone on since.""What about that phone call?" Jack asked her."That was nothing." Kathleen said."What phone call?" Danny interrupted."It was nothing. Last night I got a creepy prank phone call. Someone called but they didn't say anything. It was just like static and noise but no voices or anything. I hung up and they called back. It was the same thing so I hung up again. That was it. No big deal." Kathleen said."We should run your phone just to make sure it's nothing." Danny told her.Kathleen sighed, "Is it necessary?" She asked not used to being targeted this way."I think it is." Danny said apologetically."We've been through a lot." Linda said, "It really is for your protection."Kathleen squeezed Jack's hand, "If you're sure." She handed her phone to her father-in-law.The evening passed rather quickly while the Reagan's tried to figure out exactly who was targeting Kathleen and if it was over yet or not.That night after Maddie was in bed, Kathleen was walking out of the bathroom while Jack was doing some studying."Do you really think someone could come after me again?" Kathleen sat on their bed."I think that if my dad thinks he should run your phone, it's a good idea." Jack replied"I don't want to take any chances with you or Maddie. You're both too important to risk.""I just don't wnt to live in fear of everything and everyone." Kathleen commented.Jack put his book down and looked over at his wife, "I know. But this just happened and I'd rather be safe than sorry. My Mom and Dad have been through a lot. He wouldn't pester you about your phone and stuff if he didn't think it was important." "I guess." Kathleen sighed."I promise. My Dad will figure this all out. He's going to get the guy behind this." Jack swore.Kathleen nodded her head, "I just don't want him to work so hard if it turns out to nothing." Kathleen told her husband."Keeping you safe is a priority. Not nothing." Jack kissed her sweetly."I love you." Kathleen grinned."I love you." Jack wrapped Kathleen in his arms for the rest of the night. Reminding her how her safety was one of the most important things in the world. Not just to him but to his family. Making sure she knew that she was just as important as anyone else in the Reagan family and promising her, that his family would stop at nothing to keep her safe."Hey, Sarge!" Beaz knocked on Danny's office door."What's up?" He asked not looking up at her."We found something you might be interested in." She walked over handing him some papers, "These are comments from an online message board. It's all about 'Fun Rob's' channel and how it's not fair that he was shut down. Lots of hate comments towards Kathleen that spiral into hate about the Reagans and NYPD in general. But this one stands out." Beaz pointed to someone's words, "It talks about teaching her a lesson."Danny read through the papers, "We have any idea who these people are?" "TARU is tracing any IP addresses that these accounts link to." Beaz told him, "So far no hits." "Okay. Good work Beaz." Danny told her."Yeah well, you might not be my partner anymore but the Reagan family is like a mob. Once you're in, you're in." Beaz smiled.Danny laughed, "At least my wife doesn't try to poison you with her cooking.""No which means she is more than welcome to bring more food by anytime she wants too." Beaz agreed. She knew there wouldn't come a day where she wouldn't be close to the Reagan family, "I'll let you know when something pops. We traced a few of them to one of those internet cafes. Kent and I are going to check it out and see what we can find." She said talking about her new partner."Keep me posted." Danny informed her, "Make sure TARU knows this hits the top of the pile." Danny told her."On it, Boss." She smirked before leaving his office to investigate the internet cafe hoping to find something that would help them figure out who was after Kathleen. With Rob and his girlfriend out of the picture, there was almost no one that had a problem with the young mother. She was well liked, had lots of friends in school. Her teachers hadn't reported anyone having a problem with Kathleen. The men and women in Jack's academy class were being searched through with a fine tooth comb but so far they'd found nothing. The list was dwindling each day with no leads. Danny hoped they'd find the person responsible before something else happened that could have been prevented had they had a suspect in custody.
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Along with working on a Sunday night, Danny Reagan received not only one but two phone calls from his wife saying she was taking Grace to the Emergency Room. She'd been stung by a bee while playing in the yard with Grandpa's supervision while Linda bathed Sam and Faith. Danny was ready to drop everything and go to his daughter but Linda told him she would be fine. She'd given Grace her EpiPen, the twins were with Frank and Grace was okay. Linda was taking her as a precaution. She made sure to tell him, Grace was breathing normally and more upset about having to go to the doctor than upset because she was hurt. After promising to call Danny if they needed him and when they were on the way home Danny reluctantly stayed at work trying to find out who had problems with his daughter-in-law. So far, there were only a few leads and they were drying up quickly."Reagan." Danny answered his phone unsure if it was Linda yet."Found something." Beaz said. She'd been sifting through security footage at the internet cafe to see if anyone that was there made the calls to Kathleen's phone. They narrowed the list down to three suspects who were in the cafe at the same time as the phone call was made and were using their cell phones to make outgoing calls, "Three suspects. We're headed to start asking questions." She told her CO."Anyone with a record?" Danny asked."Sent their names to TARU to do a full check on them and their associates." Beaz walked to her car, "We'll get to the bottom of this.""Yeah. I just have a bad feeling about all this." Danny sighed."Now you sound like your wife." Beaz teased."Don't tell her that." Danny shook his head at his former partner, "Let me know what you find out." Danny told her as he went back to looking through Rob and his girlfriend's alibi hoping something was missing. Rob's alibi was solid. His girlfriends, however, had a few holes but it wasn't enough to make Danny pin the slashed tires on her.Danny had just ended the call with Beaz when Linda's name lit up his phone, "Hey Babe." Danny answered."Daddy?" Grace sniffled."Hi, Ladybug. Are you okay? Mommy said you got stung by a bee." Danny's voice softened as he talked to his young daughter."It hurt, Daddy." Grace said, "And then Mommy hurt when she gived me medicine and then the doctor hurt when he gived me medicine too.""I'm sorry honey. But I'm sure Mommy and the Doctor only hurt you because they want you to be better." Danny tried to explain."Mommy's mean." Grace pouted, "She said she told me not to play in the corner and I didn't' listen and that's why I got stung. She said I'm in trouble and can't go in the yard tomorrow to play after dinner.""Did you listen to Mommy when she told you to stay away from the corner behind the shed?" Danny asked."No, but Daddy!" Grace tried to make up an excuse."Dod Grandpa tell you to stay away?" Danny asked."Yes but Daddy!" Grace huffed."Then you deserve to be in trouble. Sorry Ladybug but when you do something you're not supposed to do, are told not to do it and you still do it then you're going to get in trouble." Danny said to her, "Mommy isn't mean. She punished you because you didn't listen.""I don't like Mommy anymore!" Grace said strongly."That's not nice. You need to be respectful of Mommy even when you're mad at her. I don't want to hear you say anything like that again. Understand?" Danny reprimanded his daughter. He was met with silence on the other end, "Grace Mary-Elizabeth. You need to apologize to Mommy for being rude and put her on the phone." He told her."Yes, Daddy." Grace cried. Danny heard her little voice say sorry to Linda before Linda picked up the phone."She's in a really bad mood." Linda sighed."I hear that. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?" Danny offered"Not really." Linda said, "You just keep working on figure out what's going on with Kathleen and Jack. I can handle Grace being cranky." "You two headed home now?" Danny asked."Just signed the discharge papers. I'll call you before I go to sleep." Linda said knowing better than to think Danny would be home anytime soon."Love you." Danny smiled."Love you more." Linda said softly."Love you the most." Danny replied before ending the phone call. Danny went back to work looking for anything that might help with the case. He had no idea that when the sun came up the next morning, Kathleen would find herself in a precarious situation she'd have to pray to find a way out of.Kathleen Reagan was a smart girl. She knew how to defend herself. She didn't take a chance if it was too risky. She was always conscious of her safety and the safety of those around her. The following morning on her way to school after dropping Maddie off with Linda. She rode the subway to school instead of driving. As much as Kathleen liked to drive her own car it wasn't always the most convenient. On her way across the street to campus, Kathleen was startled to see someone snapping pictures of her. Kathleen turned her attention away from the person for long enough to get her phone out of her bag. When she looked up again they were gone. The rest of the day Kathleen kept seeing them out of the corner of her eye. But every time she'd see them, they'd disappear just as quickly. While eating lunch in the courtyard with some friends and discussing the Halloween carnival Kathleen reached into her bag to get her notebook out only to find a note that she nor Jack had put in there.
'You sit there with your perfect little life. Just wait until I'm ready. It won't be perfect for long.'
Kathleen looked around wondering how the note was slipped into her bag without her knowing. She had no idea if it was even someone she was sitting with at the moment. Kathleen stuff the note back in her backpack trying to keep her mind off everything while in school for the day. She wasn't in danger. She was on campus. Nothing bad could happen at school. Or so she thought.
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Later that Monday afternoon, Kathleen was done with classes for the day but opted to take a study session with a few friends. She was sitting in the cafeteria with a group of women, discussing their volunteer work they were each doing for class when off in the distance Kathleen spotted a woman snapping pictures of her. The same person from that morning was back again. Kathleen sighed. This was ridiculous. She didn't know how to tell the person to buzz off or even ask why they were so interested in her next class. Kathleen tried to recall if she'd ever met the woman before or not. Kathleen sighed not able to place the woman in her memory somewhere.Kathleen was so focused on the person taking pictures of her she missed half of the conversation about the carnival coming up. She and her friends were sponsoring it. They were delegating jobs and making primary lists, "I'm going to head home." Kathleen said, feeling uncomfortable that someone was stalking her."Everything alright?" One of her friends who she'd known since she moved to New York asked."Yeah. I'm just not here today. Besides if I go home now I can spend some time with Maddie before Jack gets home." Kathleen grinned."She is so cute! Are you bringing her to the carnival?" Kathleen's friend asked."Of course! It's going to be so much fun!" Kathleen said."Awesome!" Her friend smiled, "Have a good night! I'll call you later and let you know what we figure out here." She said knowing the study season would run late."Sounds good. Thanks!" Kathleen gathered her stuff before walking out of the cafeteria in the opposite direction of the woman photographing her. Kathleen had almost made it off campus when she realized she was being followed. Being the daughter of a cop and now in a family full of officers, Kathleen did the only sane thing she could think of. She called her father-in-law."Hey, Danny." Kathleen walked a little quicker away from the woman following her, "This is going to sound crazy but someone is following me and they've been around all day taking photos of me and-and it's really freaking me out and I can't call Jack out of class again. And I didn't want to bug you but I wasn't sure what to do." Kathleen rambled.Danny was sitting at his desk working on the three files Beaz had left for him. Each of the suspects in the cafe at night had been cleared. The first one had been calling an automated number while the other two had solid alibis for who they were talking to and after pulling phone records it showed the phone call was made through a laptop. They were back to square one, "Kathleen. Slow down. Are you hurt? "Where are you?" Danny asked already walking out of the precinct."I'm okay. I'm not hurt. Near school but I left because they were there too." Kathleen said, "I'm headed down to catch the subway.""No!" Danny yelled at her, "Stay on the sidewalk where there are people. What street are you on?" Danny asked."West Third." Kathleen told him, "I'm headed East though.""Good. Keep walking that way, towards the 6th precinct. Stay visible and keep talking to me. I'll be right there." Danny flipped on his lights and sirens hoping to get to Kathleen in a matter of minutes."Do you think this could be related to the person that called me the other night?" Kathleen asked making a right to get to the crosswalk."I don't know. But it's going to be fine. You're going to be safe." Danny promised her."The last time I was stalked like this was some guy in high school didn't know how to deal with the fact that I wasn't going out with him. It sucked just as much then as it does now." Kathleen grumbled crossing the busy street."You had a stalker?" Danny asked. Kathleen had never said any of this to him or Linda. He wondered if Jack even knew. "For a little bit but my dad took care of it." Kathleen said, "This woman is still following me. But now she's on the phone.""Keep walking. You're doing great." Danny put Kathleen on mute for a moment, "This is Sergeant Danny Reagan with the 54th. I need a radio car sent out from the 6th. West towards NYU. Friendly female being stalked by another female. Stalker possibly armed and dangerous. ETA, ten minutes." Danny radioed to dispatch. He waited for the crackle of the radio."This is Officers Kennedy and Jerico, responding. I see both women. Approach?" The officer asked."Affirmative. Friendly is daughter Kathleen Reagan." Danny said."Yes, sir." Officer Kennedy responded, "Pulling up now.""Kathleen?" Danny took her off mute, "I have two officers coming to you now. Officers Kennedy and Jerico. They are going to stick by you until I get there and try to see if they can get the perp following you.""I see the officers." Kathleen confirmed, "They are across the street.""Good." Danny sped up, "Walk over to them and wait for me with them. I'm almost there.""Okay." Kathleen started to cross the street where the officers were when a large black SUV slammed on its breaks blocking her path. Kathleen gasped, "What!?""Kathleen!" Danny heard loud popping over the radio, "Kathleen!" He tried to push the gas pedal down further but it was already to the floor. He heard a large crash then the phone went dead. Danny didn't know what had happened but he was sure that popping was gunshots, "Damnit!" Danny swore as his tires squealed on his way to Kathleen's aid. Danny prayed silently hoping one or both of the officers on the scene was keeping his daughter-in-law safe.
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Danny wasn't sure how he got to Kathleen's location so fast. He swore it was seconds until he was out of his car with his gun in his hand. Kathleen was pinned behind a garbage can and the van that had blocked off the officers. Two people in the van were shooting at Officer Kennedy and Officer Jerico while the woman who was following Kathleen was trying to sneak up behind her. Danny ran behind the van hoping he wasn't spotted in an effort to get to Kathleen. Danny ran as fast as he could but the woman was closer to Kathleen than he was."KATHLEEN!" Danny yelled as the woman reached inside her purse.Kathleen's head spun around. She dropped to the ground sweeping her leg out kicking the woman's feet out from under her. The woman lost her balance and fell to the ground with a loud scream. She continued to reach into her purse and pulled a taser out trying to jab it at Kathleen's body. Luckily for Kathleen, years of kickboxing and self-defense classes taught her well. She jumped back as the woman got back onto her feet."GET AWAY FROM ME!" Kathleen yelled."YOU RUINED IT! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING! AND YOU GOT AWAY WITH IT! THE WORLD NEEDS TO SEE WHAT A SPOILED BRAT YOU ARE!!" The woman tried to hit Kathleen with the taser again.Kathleen expertly dodged the taser, kicking it out of the woman's hand then kicking her in the chest to push her away, "I SAID GET AWAY!" Kathleen kicked the taser as far away as it would slide on the sidewalk."NYPD!" Danny turned the corner to face the young woman, "DON'T MOVE!" He yelled at her."OF COURSE YOU'RE GOING TO BE SAVED BY THE NYPD! YOU ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT DON'T YOU!? PERFECT LIFE. PERFECT EVERYTHING! IT DOESNT MATTER WHO GETS IN YOUR WAY! INNOCENT PEOPLE LIKE ROB GET HURT BECAUSE OF YOU!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM?! HE JUST WANTED TO BE HEARD! YOU SILNACED HIM! YOU KILLED HIS CARRER! YOU SHOULD PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID!" The woman screamed at Kathleen.Behind them, the two officers had managed to capture the women in the van by pinning them down until the women slipped up. One getting shot in the leg and the other in the shoulder. The street was quickly filling with NYPD and ambulances for the two injured perps."It's over!" Danny put a hand on Kathleen's shoulder carefully pushing her behind him, "Put your hands up!""You'll have to shoot me, officer." The woman said, "I will die knowing I did what was right! That I took matters into my own hands! That I did what Rob wanted me to do! I made that bitch pay for hurting him!" The woman reached for her ankle."Don't move!" Danny yelled as the woman ignored him, "Don't move or I'll shoot!" The woman in front of him continued to reach for her ankle. Danny saw the strap of an ankle holster as the woman pulled her pant leg up. He pulled the trigger shooting the woman in the chest, "GET A BUS!" He yelled as he walked over to where the woman lay lifeless on the ground bleeding out. He pulled up her pant leg to reveal and empty gun holster. She couldn't have tossed it. Danny thought. He looked around the area hoping he didn't miss it when he suddenly realized. She'd been bluffing. She was unarmed the whole time.An hour later found Kathleen Reagan sitting in an ER waiting to be discharged while her mother-in-law paced outside the room. Linda still hadn't spoken to Danny. Kathleen was questioned. The two officers that were on the scene were questioned. And Danny was being held by Internal Affairs. The woman that he'd shot was just shy of her nineteenth birthday. Her name was Becca Watson and she'd been one of "Fun Robs" Biggest fans. While investigating who she was, the NYPD learned that she'd written letters to Rob over and over again begging him to prank her only to be met with silence from Rob's end. When Rob's channel had been shut down Becca had made it her mission to do something about it. If no one cared that Kathleen wasn't charged with assault, Becca would make sure Kathleen see justice served. With the help of her two friends, Cassie and Sara, she devised a plan. They'd kidnap Kathleen, scare her with their guns but not shoot her, and then knock her out. Leaving her far outside of the city with no money, no phone, no food, no way to get home and secretly video record the whole thing. Airing it over the internet for all to see. None of the three girls expected to be in a gunfight with police.Linda walked back into the room, "Honey are you sure you don't want Jack to be called out of class?" Linda asked for the third time since she got there.Kathleen shook her head, "I'm fine. Not even a scratch on me. He is out in like an hour or so anyway. Might as well let him finish up and I'll talk to him when he gets home. It's important. He can't miss too many classes. And he's already had to miss some." She smiled, "Have you talked to Danny yet?" She wondered."No. I won't talk to him until IA is done." Linda said."I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get him in any trouble or anything." Kathleen looked ashamed."You have nothing to be sorry for. That woman who was following you and stalking you is to blame. Her and her group of friends who joined in. Besides. We're not new to Internal Affairs being in our business. The name Reagan attracts audiences. Both good and bad." Linda smiled, "From what you said happened it was a...what does he call it?....good shot? Clean shot? Something like that. But I know he shot her after he identified himself, told her to stop moving, and told her that if she refused to listen he'd be forced to shoot. So that's what matters. This is just routine." Linda explained."I don't want Danny to get in trouble." Kathleen sighed."Danny? He's always in trouble." Jamie said with a grin as he appeared at the door."What are you doing here?!" Linda looked over at him."Questioning a perp. Saw the last name on the board. Wanted to check in." Jamie said, "Everyone okay? What did Danny do?""Protected his daughter-in-law." Linda smiled."Well, then that's a clean shot. No one, not even IA wouldn't protect their own family, despite what they tell you or want you to think." Jamie said, "Can I do anything? Anyone need a ride or something?""Actually, can you call Sean and remind him that the bus will be dropping Sam, Faith, and Grace off soon. He's home babysitting and with Charlie so I could come here." Linda told him."I can do that." Jamie said, "Anything else? You get hurt?""No. According to the report of what happened, we have someone who knows quite a bit of hand-to-hand combat." Linda teased her daughter-in-law."I've taken self-defense classes since I was sixteen and kickboxing since I was twelve. I have a brown belt in kickboxing." Kathleen said, "And I don't own a gun but I know how to use one and used to go to the firing range all the time.""Wow. So Danny shot her just to assert his role as the alpha male?" Jamie joked."She was reaching for an ankle holster and wouldn't stop moving even after he told her to. I'm pretty sure he saw the holster and reacted." Kathleen explained, "But she didn't have a weapon and now he's in trouble.""He's going to be just fine. He's Danny Reagan. Nothing bad can happen to him." Jamie grinned, "I gotta go. I'll call Sean and make sure he's got the kids okay.""Thanks, Jamie! See you Sunday!" Linda called after him, "I promise. It's really going to be okay. Danny will be fine.""I hope you're right." Kathleen frowned. She hated feeling like she'd caused her family problems. She's heard horror stories from her father about Internal Affairs tearing families apart. Kathleen prayed it wouldn't happen to the Reagans. She prayed everything would be okay.
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Once released from the hospital, Kathleen went home with Linda. She texted Jack to tell him to head to his parent's house before going home. Linda was in the kitchen making dinner while Kathleen watched Maddie and Charlie play. Sam and Faith were outside with Sean while Grace did her homework at the kitchen table. Danny still hadn't called Linda. When Linda called Frank to see if he knew anything she realized he had no more information than she did at that point."Mommy. Can you help?" Grace asked not able to figure out her homework herself."What do you need to do?" Linda walked over."It's double digits. It's too hard!" Grace pouted.Linda put an arm around her daughter, "I think you can do it. Try this." Linda showed her how to add the ones then the tens. Grace stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth while she concentrated hard on the problem."Thank you, Mommy." Grace smiled once she figured it out."Of course." Linda smiled, "If you get your homework done soon you can help make dessert.""What is it?" Grace asked."Your favorite. Chocolate cream pie." Linda grinned."YAY!" Grace clapped her hands, "I love that!!" She giggled."Good. Now finish up your math page." Linda went back to stirring the pot on the stove."Anyone home!?" Fran called from the front door."Grandpa!" Grace hopped down from the table and ran to him, "Look what I drawed you in school today!!" She held up the special drawing of a police car she did in art class."That's really good! Why don't you put it on the fridge for me?" Frank hugged his granddaughter."Hey, Frank." Linda smiled."Danny still not home?" Frank asked.Linda shook her head, "Not yet. No phone call either." Linda hated to admit she was worried about how long it had been since he met with Internal Affairs."He should be home soon." Frank smiled, "Can I help?" He asked."Round up kids and get them washed?" Linda asked, "Grace come help make the pie." Linda called her over."Okay, Mommy!" Grace helped pour the filling into the crust before putting it carefully into the fridge."Hey!" Jack yelled as he walked in from the back, "What's for dinner?" He asked."Lasangna. Kathleen is in the playroom with Charlie and Maddie." Linda told him."Got it." Jack walked out of the kitchen, "Hey." He stepped over the baby gate and into the play room, "How was your day?" Jack kissed his wife hello."Interesting." Kathleen held Jack's hand, "I'm going to tell you something. But you have to try not to get too upset." Kathleen guided Jack to the seat next to her on the couch."What is it?" Jack started to panic, "Are you okay? Is Maddie okay?" Jack looked over at his baby girl playing with her cousin."We're both okay. It's alright." Kathleen said, "Today at school someone was following me and snapping pictures. I called your dad and he came to make sure I was okay. There was some gunfire but I'm fine. Your Dad and a few other officers made sure I was safe. I wasn't hurt at all. Your Dad and the other officers are okay. But your Dad is with Internal Affairs because the woman he shot, to protect me, wasn't armed. But she was reaching for an ankle holster and not listening to him." Kathleen said, "But I'm okay. And Maddie was here with your mom so she was fine too.""You didn't call me." Jack said."I didn't want you to miss class for something that was over just as quick as it started. The woman is the one who slashed my tires and everything. She was some super fan or something of Rob's and when the show was canceled she got offended and upset and decided to come after me." Kathleen explained, "But it's okay now. I promise.""You're more important than class." Jack squeezed her hand."And if I was hurt, I'd have called you. But there wasn't even a scratch on me. I'm okay." Kathleen smiled warmly.They were interrupted by a knock on the wall, "Dinner is ready. Jack, she called me. She was okay. I'd have called even if she said not to if something was wrong." Linda said."Is Dad okay?" Jack asked."He's still dealing with IAB but he will be home soon." Linda smiled not sure if her words were true or not."Can you please call me? If something happens I want to know about it. I want to make sure you're okay. Even if I don't have to be called out of class. Just let me know so I'm not blindsided when I get home." Jack asked his wife."The ER trip was just a precaution. I'm fine. I swear." Kathleen kissed her husband, "I love you." She told Jack."I love you too." Jack held his wife tight, "I'm so grateful you're okay." Jack tried to keep the scary thoughts of his wife being in danger at bay. He couldn't handle the thought of losing her right now. It was overwhelming."Me too." Kathleen agreed, "I just hope I didn't get your Dad into too much trouble.""My father?" Jack smiled, "It's not anything that hasn't happened before I'm sure." He joked."I'm hearing that from a lot of people lately." Kathleen grinned."That's because it's true." Jack picked Maddie up from the spot she was playing on the floor, "C'mon sweet pea. Let's go eat." He held his wife's hand as they walked to the dining room. Later tonight after he processed everything he'd be more upset. Right now he felt in shock about how close his wife was to being seriously hurt and thankful that his father had been there.
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After the kids were in bed Linda took a long hot bath trying to calm herself down. Inside she was panicking. It had been almost eight hours since Kathleen was released from the ER. Not knowing what was going on with Danny was eating at her. Linda hoped the bath would relax her while she waited for her husband to come home. She wasn't as lucky as she had hoped for. Linda put on her pajamas before checking on the kids one more time. After dinner, Sean had gone home with Charlie while Kathleen, Jack, and Maddie went home just before bedtime for Grace, Faith, and Sam. Linda pulled the covers up over Sam who had kicked them to the foot of his bed. She smoothed his hair out. He looked so much like Danny with each passing day. Linda kissed the top of his head. Next, she stopped in the girls' room. Grace and Faith were asleep in Grace's bed with Faith's filled with stuffed animals and baby dolls. Linda tucked her two girls in before quietly leaving the room. She walked into her bedroom surprised to see the bathroom light on. She could have sworn she turned it off. Linda smiled wide side seeing Danny step out of the bathroom in a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. Linda saw his shoulders slumped and his eyes focused on the floor. She knew he had a hard time with Internal Affairs, "Hey." Linda felt her eyes well up with tears."Linda." Danny said almost as if just saying her name made things better.Linda crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her husband, "I'm happy you're okay." Linda mumbled into his chest."I missed you." Danny confessed. He held his wife close, squeezing her tight, "I'm okay.""I was really worried. You're not usually gone that long with IA and it was Kathleen and I just..." Linda sighed heavily."It's okay I'm alright I promise" Danny kissed his wife's cheek."What did they say?" Linda hoped Danny didn't get in trouble for defending their daughter-in-law."They said it was a clean shot. That when speaking to everyone that was there, I used necessary force. I'm not in trouble or anything." Danny said to her. Danny felt Linda shudder in his arms. He could tell she was crying, "Hey." He softened his voice, "What's wrong?""I was just really worried about you." Linda frowned, "I was scared and I hadn't spoken to you at all." "I'm okay." Danny said. He wasn't technically lying. As far as IAB was concerned and work, everything was fine. But the fact still remained, he shot an unarmed kid. She may have been nineteen but she was still a kid. She wasn't armed. She might have tried to hurt Kathleen with the taser but it was out of her hands when Danny shot her.Linda closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "I'm glad you're okay. And that you didn't get in trouble with Internal Affairs. But are you okay?" She asked."What do you mean?" Danny questioned her."Danny. I know you. You're not okay. I know how you react to having to shoot someone. Let alone a nineteen-year-old. So you can talk to me or not but please don't lie to me." Linda requested."I'm sorry." Danny kissed the top of her head, "I'll talk to you. Just not right now. Right now I just want to lay in our bed. Hold you close and thank God my family is okay."Linda pulled back from his embrace, taking his hand in hers, "Then we can do that." Linda pulled Danny to their bed, "I love you so much." She said feeling him spoon up behind her. Danny held his wife securely in his arms, "I love you, Linda." He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. His wife in his arms subduing the guilt for just long enough for Danny to close his eyes in an attempt to sleep.The following morning Linda woke up to an empty bed beside her. She could tell by just looking, Danny had been up for a while. Linda looked at her phone to check the time. At only five-twelve in the morning, she was sure Danny had gone to work. But after she put her glasses on to look round she realized he had to be home. His wallet was still atop the dresser next to her jewelry box along with his watch. Linda pulled her robe on to wander around looking for Danny. She didn't expect to see him sitting outside on the back porch. Linda softly walked out to sit beside him."You okay?" Linda asked."I didn't mean to wake you." Danny apologized."You didn't." Linda leaned her head on his shoulder, Danny put an arm around her shoulder as they sat in silence. The sun just peeking over the horizon, "She wasn't armed. She was a kid. We have kids older than her." Danny said softly, "I'm glad Kathleen is okay. I never realized how much she was able to defend herself but it's good to know she can. I'm happy she's not hurt. That she didn't get caught by a bullet between the officers and those kids in the van." Danny ran his fingertips up and down over Linda's shoulder, "But I shot a kid. She would be nineteen in a few weeks. Fresh out of high school." Danny sighed."Danny. You were protecting your daughter-in-law. You were protecting yourself. You told her to stop. You told her you would shoot. You saw a gun holster. You did what needed to be done to keep you and Kathleen safe. No one blames you for that." Linda said softly."She was a kid." Danny shook his head."She was a kid who was trying to hurt someone you love. And she was trying to hurt you." Linda said."I know. But she was still a kid." Danny sighed heavily. He knew what he'd done was the 'right' thing to do. But the guilt stuck to him. Danny and Linda sat quietly watching the sun as it rose, turning the sky soft colors."I can't remember the last time we watched the sunrise together." Linda said softly half-asleep leaning on Danny's shoulder."Me either." Danny pulled her closer, "Have I told you how beautiful you are?"Linda blushed, "Not since we woke up this morning."Danny kissed his wife sweetly on the lips, "You're beautiful. I love you so much, Linda Reagan.""I love you more." Linda replied."I love you the most." Danny grinned as he kissed her again. Linda stayed in Danny's arms until her phone alarm started to buzz. She needed to get herself dressesd so the kids wouldn't be late for shool. She knew Danny held a lot of guilt over shooting such a young woman. Linda prayed he'd be able to work through it and find a way to cope. After all, saving his own life and the life of his daughter-in-law counted. That mattered. And anyone, no matter their age, should be held accountable for their actions.
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As the weeks went on the guilt that he killed a kid stayed with Danny. Always in the back of his mind. He hadn't noticed how much sleep he was losing over it, how irritable he was with everyone lately. He had a long day at work, Grace was pestering her parents for Christmas presents even though it was Halloween in a few days. Sam had been wanting Daddy to play with him since Danny walked through the door. Sean was working extra hours leaving Charlie at his parent's house longer than usual. Danny's stress level was higher than usual. After dinner one night, Linda had commented on Danny working long hours that week, and hoping they could spend some time that weekend together. She reminded him of the carnival Kathleen and her group at school had put together that they were supposed to attend with the rest of the Reagan family."Don't forget we have that thing at NYU this Saturday. Think you'll make it?" Linda asked."I don't know." Danny sipped his beer."Well, what do you think?" Linda sighed."I said I don't know!" Danny yelled, "What do you want from me, Linda?! If I'm working, I'm working!" Danny hollered at her, "I don't get the luxury of sitting on my ass all day doing nothing!""Excuse me?!" Linda put her hands on her hips, "Since when do I do nothing?!""I got enough going on without having you hassling me about a stupid carnival!" Danny shook his head."Hassling you?" Linda asked, "That's what you think I'm doing?""It is what you're doing!" Danny yelled at her."Danny, you don't want to go, then don't! But I thought since you promised Faith you'd go since she didn't want to go without you, that you'd at least care about trying to make it." Linda said."She'll be fine if I'm stuck at work." Danny tossed his empty beer bottle in the recycling bin."You're right. She will be. Because she'll be with the rest of her family. It's not like you've been in a good mood lately anyway." Linda muttered as she started to walk out of the room."What's that supposed to mean?!" Danny asked angrily."What do you think it means, Danny?!" Linda whipped around, "I get that you've had a stressful few weeks and I'm sorry you've been having a rough time but you can't just yell at me for no reason because you're in a bad mood!" "Bad mood?! I'm the one in a bad mood?!" Danny shook his head, "You're the one having a problem if I have to work this weekend! I bust my ass every day for our family and this is the thanks I get?! What have you done lately besides stay home?!" Danny said taking a second jab at Linda not working. He never minded Linda staying home. They could afford it, it was a lifesaver when the kids were sick and it was the perfect childcare system for their grandkids. Danny was so frustrated with everything, himself included, he was blowing off steam anyway he could. Even if it was at the expense of his wife's feelings. He didn't mean what he was saying but the words flew out of his mouth like a volcanic eruption. He couldn't stop it even if he wanted to.Linda took a deep breath, "You're right. I guess I do, do nothing. Feeding everyone, keeping the house clean, taking care of children, taking care of sick children, making sure the kids always have someone around for school functions or parent-teacher conferences, and taking care of you, all add up to nothing. And everything else that I do in between day to day stuff. That's all nothing." Linda pursed her lips together. She refused to get upset when Danny was blowing off steam and acting like a jerk for no reason. If she cried she knew he'd instantly apologize and console her but she feared he wouldn't register how much he hurt her by saying she did nothing all day long. Linda slammed the kitchen door behind her as she huffed up the stairs.Linda walked into her room, quickly followed by Sam."Daddy pway?" Sam asked his mother."Daddy's busy. He can't play right now. Want to play with Mommy?" Linda crouched down to Sam's level."Buiwd wacetwack?" Sam asked."Okay. Let's go build a racetrack." Linda repeated his words properly. Sam had been a bit behind on his speech. When he'd started Kindergarten they recommended he see the speech-language pathologist once a week to help him out. She sent home weekly progress reports along with notes and activities to help him at home too. One of the biggest things the SLP had told Danny and Linda, was to repeat Sam's words using full sentences to help him hear what he's trying to say properly."Mommy bwoo car!" Sam ran to his room to get the blue race car, "Tam wed car!""Mommy will be the blue car and Sam will be the red car?" Linda sat on the floor while Sam pulled out the track bucket."Yeah!" Sam dumped the bucket on the floor. Linda played with Sam until it was time for bath, storybooks, and bed for the kids. Grace had requested 'Fox In Socks' while Faith wanted the entire Winnie-the-Pooh collection but had to settle for one story. Linda read Sam one of his favorites, 'Goodnight, Goodnight, Construction site', four times before she told him he could look at in bed by himself. Linda walked into her bedroom and to the bathroom to take a quick shower before bed. She was exhausted. She wasn't sure if it was from arguing with Danny after dinner or from the kids being more difficult than normal. Or if it was the fact that she was stressed out and not sleeping well. When Danny didn't sleep, Linda couldn't sleep. She felt his every move, every shift. When he was up and down she would wake up when the bed would shift. Linda stood in the shower as she took a deep breath hoping the day would melt away.Linda heard the shower door slide open behind her, "If you're my husband looking for sex, you've got really horrible timing. I'm still mad at you." Linda said. She felt Danny softly trace over his name on her back, then slide his arms around her waist."Expecting someone else?" Danny asked softly. He pressed himself against his wife. Danny dropped a sweet kiss to her shoulder, "I'm sorry." He whispered, "I said a lot of things I shouldn't have.""Yes, you did." Linda agreed trying not to get distracted by his dirty game of asking for forgiveness."I didn't mean it." Danny pressed his lips to her neck, "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry.""Which part of it?" Linda turned in his arms."You do so much. You are such an amazing, strong, wonderful, loving, woman. You take amazing care of our children. And when they are sick or don't feel well, you're the best person for the job of making sure they feel better as soon as possible. Somehow you cook and clean and take care of kids and still have the time to be the most perfect wife I could ever ask for. Even when I completely screw up and act like a total jerk. You do so much more than just stay home, Linda. And I'm sorry for saying that it was nothing. It's everything. I don't think I'd be able to make it more than a day doing what you do. Between kids, cleaning and me, your hands are so full." Danny kissed her forehead."My heart is full too." Linda replied. She tilted her head up to kiss her husband properly, "I know you haven't been sleeping. I know that's part of the reason why you're so angry lately. I just don't want you to lose yourself to that anger and frustration. I'm worried about you. I can see how stressed you are. I wish I could do something to help you." Linda rubbed her hands up his arms before looping them around his neck."Stress or no stress, I shouldn't yell at you. I shouldn't even raise my voice when speaking to you. You're amazing and wonderful. And I love you. You were right. I was yelling at you for no real reason. You don't deserve that." Danny said softly.Linda cupped Danny's cheek, "I love you." She kissed him again, "Even if you're acting like a jerk. I'll always love you, Danny Reagan."Danny lifted Linda off her feet. Her legs instinctively wrapped around hit waist, "I love you." Danny pinned Linda against the shower wall as the water hit both of them."I knew you were in here looking for makeup sex." Linda teased."I"m looking for anything that will make you happy. Because that's what's important. Yes, work is important, but family trumps all and you trump everything." Danny deeply kissed Linda."How is it that you can tick me off and make me fall in love with you all over again, on the same day. Within hours of each other?" Linda asked."Practice?" Danny joked."That must be it." Linda smiled."You know what else I have practice in?" Danny quipped."What's that?" Linda felt Danny shift her slightly."Making love to my gorgeous, sexy, beautiful, amazing, wonderful wife." Danny whispered as he continued to show Linda exactly how much he loved her. Little did he knew that this would only be the first fight they'd have to overcome while he tried to get over his inner turmoil from the tragic shooting.
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When Danny Reagan got a phone call saying one of his detectives was injured on the job he sighed heavily. He'd finally been able to catch some sleep only to be called in the middle of the night. He was grateful they would be okay but it meant he was headed to work. Danny walked into the 54th precinct after stopping at the ER to check on his detective, "Anyone catch this guy yet?" Danny asked as he walked towards his office. "Perp fled the scene on foot but we are canvassing the area." Beaz reported, "He tossed his phone and the gun he used. TARU dumped the phone records, so I'm scanning his last phone calls to see if we can find where he's going next. And CSU has the gun. So far nothing on it." "Where's your other half?" Danny asked seeing her partners desk empty. "Vacation time. Remember?" She grinned, "Out of state for his sister's wedding." "Oh yeah. Let me know what you find. I'll ride with you. It will be like old times." Danny smiled as he walked into his office. Danny checked in with all his detectives and once again with the one that was in the hospital. While at the ER he had talked to the detectives family and waited with them until the surgeon spoke to the detectives wife. Until that moment Danny hadn't seen the part of being injured without being the one in the ER. Tonight he watched as a wife's face went from desperation to relief in a split second. He watched as she pulled herself together so their two girls wouldn't cry too. Danny saw a panicking wife push her own feelings aside to put on a brave front for everyone around. He saw the fear and helplessness in her eyes as they listened to the doctors words. How she hung on every sentence making sure she fully understood what had happened when her husband was finally out of surgery. Danny made a mental not to thank his own wife for all the times he was hurt where he'd put him so far above her own needs and feelings. To remind Linda of how strong she was and how proud he was to be married to someone as amazing as her. "Sarge!" Beaz interrupted Danny's thoughts, "We might have a location. He called his girlfriend, seventeen times. We traced her phone which hasn't changed locations since he called her." "Let's go." Danny shut his office door behind him as he followed Beaz to the sedan.That night Linda rolled over reaching for Danny. When her hand didn't find her husband beside her she opened her eyes. Linda frowned not seeing Danny in bed. Linda's next instinct was to reach for her phone to check the time. Almost six in the morning. Danny must have been called into work. Linda put her phone back down when she felt a small piece of paper on her nightstand. 'At work. I'll call you in the morning. I love you.' Linda sighed. She'd hoped that after Danny's outburst earlier he'd be able to sleep tonight. At least get one good night of sleep in before going back to work in the morning. Linda rolled back over and closed her eyes hoping Danny had enough sleep to deal with whatever crisis brought him into work so early in the morning. Danny pulled up to the house parking on the street. An ESU team covered him and Beaz as they knocked on the front door. "POLICE! OPEN UP!" Danny yelled. Hearing no response Danny banged on the door again, "POLICE!" Another minute went by with no sounds from inside, "Open it." Danny told the ESU team. The rammed the door hard breaking it open, "POLICE!" Danny shouted. Danny and his team went up the stairs while Beaz and her team secured the first level. The house seemed to be empty. There was no one inside. Danny opened the door to the master bedroom to find the girlfriend lying on the bed. She'd been shot in the back of her head execution style. "Sweep the room!" Danny commanded the officers. Danny carefully walked towards the master bathroom. A loud bang shook through the air. Danny felt the bullets hit his vest knocking him backward. One of the ESU officers quickly covered Danny firing into the door to the bathroom. "DROP YOUR WEAPON!" The officer yelled. Danny groaned in pain from the bullets hitting him in the chest. The gunfire continued until ESU was able to force their way into the bathroom getting control of the situation quickly. "GET A BUS!" Beaz and her team had followed the noise of the gunfight up the stairs, "OFFICER DOWN!" Beaz rushed to Danny's side, "You okay!?" "In the vest. I'm fine." Danny moaned as his chest tightened. "Sure about that Sarge? I mean, you look like you feel fine. People always grimace in pain when they are fine." Beaz said sarcastically. Danny rolled his eyes as he sat up, "You get hit with four bullets and see how fine you feel." "C'mon. The ambulance is waiting." Beaz said knowing they weren't far. "I don't need one." Danny said, "No blood. All in the vest." Beaz sighed, "I know you're my boss and all, but I still have your wife's phone number and I'm not afraid to use it. I'll take the disciplinary action and desk duty if I piss you off. But I'll call her and then you will have to deal with her wrath if you don't get checked out." She threatened. "Fine." Danny sighed knowing Linda would kill him if he didn't at least see the EMTs, "Find out what we can about this guy. And get CSU here." Danny instructed the officers. Danny was surprised to see the media outside covering the story. He hadn't realized the wife of the detective that had been injured was a local news anchor. When her work had heard what happened they sent a team to follow police as they tracked down the perp. Danny sat on the back of the ambulance as Frank and his team pulled up to help contain the media circus that was starting to grow. Danny winced in pain as the EMT's checked over the large welts starting to swell on Danny's chest. He didn't realize that while they were looking him over, he was in the background as the morning news started a live broadcast.When Linda woke up in the morning one of the first things she did each morning was make herself a cup of coffee before waking her children. She prepared them breakfast while they all brushed teeth and got dressed. She flipped on the news to check the weather as she did every morning. It wasn't abnormal for school to be delayed or canceled due to a snow storm and with the weather already so cold more often than not, Linda had was in the habit of double checking before sending her children off to school. That's when she saw the breaking news clip. And there was her husband. On the back of an ambulance. Linda frowned knowing something must have happened. She looked at her phone hoping Danny would call her soon. She watched the news clip as Danny was loaded up into the ambulance and driven off the scene. Linda frowned wondering how long ago that was. "Mommy! I can't find my shoe!" Grace yelled from the entry way. "Coming honey!" Linda watched for another moment not getting any information on Danny just that a cop had been shot at the scene and another one was in the hospital. Linda felt her heart leap into her throat as she watched Frank's car and detail unit follow the ambulance off the screen. She once again looked at her phone wondering why she hadn't received a phone call yet from Danny or Frank. Linda wondered what happened and how injured Danny was. He always called. Even when he didn't go to the ER. He always called. Something must be really bad if he hadn't called yet.Later that morning Linda still hadn't heard from Danny. She'd watched the news report again online trying to grasp a better view of her husband and understand what happened. Linda tried to call Frank however it went to voicemail almost instantly. Linda paced around the house with Maddie in her arms. She did her best to keep her mind off what could have happened and what reason Danny and Frank had for not calling her back. Linda had put Charlie and Maddie down for their nap after lunch when she finally sat down on the couch. She called Frank for the twentieth time only to have his phone go to voicemail once again. Linda practically jumped when the front door shut. "Danny!" Linda gasped. "Hey, Babe." Danny walked over to his wife. "I was worried about you!" Linda breathed a sigh of relief the second she felt Danny's arms surround her. "I'm alright." Danny shrugged it off. "You didn't think to call me!" Linda said angrily. She pulled out of Danny's arms, "I called you a hundred times! And your father! No one can call me when my husband is on TV being put into an ambulance and obviously injured?! You can't just answer one phone call or a text!?" Linda crossed her arms, "What the Hell, Danny!?" Linda blew up at her husband. "I'm fine. I took the ride to the ER because they wanted to do an x-ray of my chest to make sure everything was fine. It is. I'm okay." Danny tried to calm his angry wife down. "Good! I'm glad you're okay! But I'm not!" Linda took a few steps away from Danny needing to breathe for a moment. "Linda." Danny sighed. He walked over to his wife and put a hand on the small of her back. "Danny. Stop." Linda huffed, "You don't get to do this! You don't get to be hurt and not tell me. Have me worried all day long! You didn't even call me!" Linda shook her head, "That's not fair." "Linda, I'm okay. I didn't call because I knew I was coming home." Danny said. "Good. But I didn't! I had to watch a news clip over and over just to catch a glimpse of you before they took you away and you can't even send me a text to say you're okay? Even if it was a lie?!" Linda yelled. "You're worrying too much." Danny walked over to her, "This is nothing." "Nothing?! Really? Then why the x-ray? What happened?" Linda asked. "A few shots to the vest. They wanted an x-ray because I've had previous chest injuries and the swelling doesn't look good. But I'm okay. I promise." Danny told her. "A few?!" Linda asked, "You know, ever since the shooting...." Linda trailed off. Danny tilted his head and crossed his arms, "What Linda?! You got something to say?!" Danny asked. "Never mind Danny." Linda bit her tongue not wanting to argue anymore. "Say it!" Danny yelled. "Ever since you shot that girl, it's like you haven't been yourself." Linda shook her head, "And I don't know if it's the fact that you are still having a hard time getting over it or dealing with it or whatever but I'm not going to continue watching you do the dumbest things for no good reason. If you're feeling guilty see a priest but you can't let that guilt make you do stupid things and get you hurt or worse!" "Dumb?! I did my job today Linda!" Danny argued, "You used to appreciate that I gave my all at work! You used to understand that it was dangerous! I'm fine! Why are you making this into an argument?!" "I'm not the one arguing Danny! You didn't even answer your phone! For hours! You scared the Hell outta me!" Linda yelled at him. "I was busy!" Danny said, "I'm a cop! I get shot at! It's not a big deal! I was coming home! If I thought you needed to be there I'd have called but you didn't! I knew I was okay!" "I get that the job is dangerous Danny. That's not what I'm mad about. I'm glad you're okay. But not calling me?! When you are injured?! That's not okay! That's what I'm mad about! You call me! Since you've been on the job, we have one very important rule. You call me if you're hurt! Since when is that nothing?!" "You're making a big deal about nothing. I'm sorry I didn't call but I was coming home. I was fine. I am fine." Danny tried to tell her. "I'm glad you're fine." Linda sighed heavily. She walked into the kitchen to get away from Danny. She was so angry with him. She couldn't be in the same room as him anymore. She needed space to breathe. She needed to be able to process everything. She needed time to think.Danny was sitting in the playroom watching Maddie and Charlie play while Linda waited at the bus stop for the twins and Grace. "Mommy!" Grace jumped off the bus first. "Hi, sweetie!" Linda hugged her daughter tight, "How was your day?" She hugged the twins as they ran to her. "I had a good day!" Faith smiled wide. "I dwaded you a pitue!" Sam waived a construction paper drawing in the air, "Ith our famiwy." "I love it!" Linda smiled. "Dats you an Daddy an dats eberyone elth." Sam pointed to the people he drew. "Good job. I like how you drew hearts all around too." Linda grinned. The kids and Linda walked home hand in hand while talking about their day. They were happy to see Daddy home so early. All three kids begged to play first and do homework after dinner. Linda relented when all three kids looked like they would start crying if she said no. After Maddie and Charlie were both picked up Linda poured herself a glass of wine, "I'm going to take a bath." She said to Danny. The day had her whole back wound tight. She needed to try and relax if only for an hour or two. "What about the kids?" Danny asked as they sat at the table doing homework. "They're your kids too. And you're apparently fine so it shouldn't be a problem to do homework, make lunches for tomorrow, pack backpacks, sign reading logs, bathe all three of them, make sure they all use toothpaste when brushing their teeth and help Grace floss, and put them all to bed. Oh, and I washed sheets today so you'll have to make all three kids beds before they go to sleep and the girls need to clean their room because they dumped the toy box this morning and didn't have time to do it before school." Linda said, "It's all a part of that nothing I do all day while you're out getting shot at." She turned to walk out of the room. "I already apologized for that comment." Danny called after her. Linda walked up the stairs without responding to her husband. He was right. He did apologize for saying she did nothing but she almost felt as if he didn't really mean it. Linda filled the tub and lit a few scented candles. She wondered if Danny was going back to work tomorrow or if he took the day off. She still had no idea how bad his injuries were but depending on his pain level or how he was hurt he just might stay home. If he did, Linda knew exactly what she'd do tomorrow. Leave the house. For the whole day. Danny could baby-sit their grandkids and have his own kids before and after school. Maybe even up till bedtime. Linda didn't know what she'd do but maybe leaving Danny home with kids would teach him exactly what nothing looked like. Linda wasn't sure what was going on with Danny. But whatever it was he needed to get control of it before things got worse.
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Linda had been completely serious when she said she was going out. The following morning Danny woke up to Linda kissing his cheek, "I'll be back later today. After dinner." She smiled. "You're leaving?" Danny asked not fully awake."Yeah. I told you that yesterday." Linda said, "I'm still mad at you. I love you. I'm glad you're relatively okay. But I'm still mad at you." She told him, "You need to deal with whatever this is that's going on with you lately because the guilt or whatever you're feeling isn't hurting only you anymore." Linda kissed Danny's lips softly, "I love you." She whispered before leaving the room quietly.Danny sighed as he laid his head back down. He knew Linda was right. But how did he get rid of the guilt that haunted him over shooting and killing an unarmed kid?During the day Linda had intended to spend it on herself. She met Beaz for brunch, did a bit of window shopping, then grabbed herself a sandwich for lunch. After lunch Linda found herself sitting in the Park where she and Danny often took the kids to run around and play on the weekends. her thoughts wandered to her husband. Didn't he see how misdirected his anger was? Didn't he notice how short tempered he'd been lately? How could he be so ignorant lately? Linda sighed heavily. She wished she could do something for him. Something to make him feel better. Her thoughts turned to her own guilt. Danny was hurt and tried to not show it because he felt ashamed. Linda hated that he felt that way. Linda's afternoon quickly turned into picking up each of the kids some new toy or special present. She bought Maddie a new pair of pajamas and Charlie a new pair of sneakers. She'd even spotted a small gift for Danny. She wondered how he was feeling while chasing after kids all day.When Linda returned home that evening after bedtime she could see how exhausted Danny was."Kids missed you today." Danny said, "They were excited to FaceTime you at bedtime though.""I missed them too. But it was nice to get out for the day." Linda admitted. She placed her few bags on the floor next to the couch, "Did they go to bed okay?" She asked. "Sam really wanted you. Apparently, I don't read the story the right way." Danny sighed.Linda smiled, "He likes to hear the different voices." She told Danny, "I should make sure things are set for tomorrow. It's the carnival for Kathleen and I don't want to be late trying to get them changed into costumes." Linda stood from the couch. She started to walk out of the room when Danny hand on her arm stopped her, "Danny." Linda felt him spin her around, kissing her hard on the lips."I missed you." He murmured, "I'm sorry. I've been such a jackass lately. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how I've been acting. I talked to dad today. Another a lot. And I'm sorry I ever took out my anger on you." Danny's voice broke as he apologized, "I love you so much." Danny kissed his wife again, "You're right I do feel guilty. I killed an unarmed kid. And that's not going to go away easily. But you did nothing wrong. And me being angry at you for no reason isn't good for either of us. All it's doing is hurting you. And that's the last thing I ever want to do. I love you. I'm sorry." Danny's eyes shined with unshed tears. Linda could tell the guilt from the shooting as well as guilt from hurting her was tearing him up.Linda wrapped her arms around her husband, "I love you. I'm sorry this is so hard for you. I'm sorry you feel so much guilt. But don't you see that if you didn't take that shot and she was reaching for a gun, Kathleen or you or both of you could be dead right now? You're not as invincible as you think you are." Linda said softly. "That what my father said too. But it's still an unarmed kid." Danny nodded his head."If she was innocent she would have listened to your directions. Instead, she ignored you knowing she was doing something that would guarantee she would be shot." Linda cupped Danny's face between her hands, "That's her fault. Not yours.""But it is my fault you were hurt. It is my fault I got so upset with you." Danny whispered.Linda ran her hand over his chest lightly where she knew he was hurt, "I'm sorry too.""Honey, you have nothing to be sorry about." Danny shook his head."But I do." Linda took a deep breath, "I'm sorry I got so mad at you yesterday. I was scared and worried and upset and it all came out. I'm sorry. I should have stopped yelling and intended to what you had to say.""I should have called you." Danny pulled Linda close."I should know by now if it's important you'll make sure I know." Linda traced over his chest lightly, "I was so worried."Danny kissed her sweetly, "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I pro–""Don't promise if you don't intend to keep it." Linda interrupted him "Linda Reagan, I promise, if I sit in an ambulance, you are my first phone call." Danny sealed his promise with a kiss, "I'm so incredibly thankful for you.""Oh, Danny." Linda kissed Danny slowly.Danny responded to her kiss by backing her up to the doorway of the living room, "I love you so much." He whispered over and over again."I love you more." Linda grinned."I love you the most." Danny closed the small space between the two of them keeping his lips on his wife's. The rest of the night was spent with Danny apologizing to Linda. Showering her with love and sweet words of affection as he prayed she'd forgive him for being such a jerk. The two of them working through their own guilt and feelings while rekindling the spark they fought so hard together for. The spark that they each refused to let go of.
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At the carnival the following day Danny and Linda had spent their morning preparing the kids for a fun day. When they arrived at NYU they stepped out of the car after parking beside Frank. Linda had been able to get both Danny and Frank to agree to dress up."You three look so cute!" Kathleen waived over to her family. Kathleen was dressed up as Wendy with Maddie as Tinkerbell in her arms. Jack was next to her as Captain Hook."I thought you two said you were dressing up too?" Jack asked his father and grandfather."We are." Danny grinned. Jack wondered how his father was dressed in costume. He was wearing a normal looking suit like he'd wear every day to work."Sam is Batman, Faith is Batgirl, I'm Robin. Mommy is Catwoman. Daddy is Bruce Wayne and Grandpa is Comis'ner Gordan." Grace explained."That's not dressing up. That you two wearing normal clothes." Jack pointed out."Don't get jealous because we figure out a way around the costume rule." Danny smiled, "Besides, what happened to Peter Pan?" He asked."Captain Hook was cooler." Jack explained."Hey!" Sean called out. He was walking with Charlie in is arms. Charlie was dressed in his Superman costume and was clearly more interested in the cape than walking."You too?!" Jack's mouth dropped when he saw Sean in jeans, a white button-up shirt half open with a Superman t-shirt underneath, and fake glasses."Me too what?" Sean asked."You got to wear normal clothes too." Jack sighed."I'm Clark Kent. He's Superman." Sean smiled, "Cute right?""Hey, guys!" Margaret walked over to them dressed in her scrubs. Jamie was at her side in uniform."That's not a costume Uncle Jamie." Jack said."That's because I'm working." Jamie grinned."And I'm headed into work in a bit so I came in work clothes. I'll be a nurse." Margaret smiled."I tried to get Linda to do that once." Danny muttered."You wanted me to be a different type of nurse." Linda teased her husband."Really Danny?!" Jamie laughed."Not that kind of nurse in public!" Danny grinned."What kind of nurse Daddy?" Grace asked."Nevermind. It's for grown-ups to know. Let's get you a candy bucket." Danny distracted his little girl.Linda shook her head, "Is everyone here? Erin and Nicky?" She asked unsure if they were coming or not."Erin said they wouldn't be here." Kathleen said."Okay, then I think we have everyone. Let's go see this carnival." Frank smiled."C'mon Daddy!" Faith tugged Danny's hand."We go!" Sam said excitedly."You heard the kids." Frank said following after his family. He wasn't a big fan of Halloween but seeing his whole family come together and knowing the memories the kids would have from tonight's event made it all worth it.After a fun-filled night of bobbing for apples, a not so scary haunted house, costume contests, dancing to spooky music, even a hayride around the park, the Reagan family was finally headed home. Jamie and Margaret had left early for work while Sean stayed as late as Charlie was awake. Danny and Linda were among the last to leave making sure Jack and Kathleen made it home safely before continuing onto their own home behind Frank.Linda was in the bathroom wiping the makeup off her face while Danny put kids to bed. She enjoyed the evening with their family. Linda wasn't sure if it was the many masks and the unknown but she'd spent her night observing Danny watching everyone around the, she felt him hold her tighter. Keep the kids closer. She saw the flash of panic when Faith wandered to her Uncle Jamie and Danny lost sight of her for a second. Linda knew he was still thinking about the shooting. She just hoped he remembered it wasn't his fault sooner rather than later.Linda grinned as she looked up and saw Danny standing in the doorway watching her, "Want to help me unzip this?" Linda asked keeping her back towards her husband.Danny walked over to her, "Of course." He slowly unzipped her costume casually sliding his free hand under the fabric as he unzipped it, "You looked beautiful tonight." He kissed her exposed shoulder.Linda blushed, "You just liked seeing my cleavage." Linda rolled her eyes."That's true. However, I was talking about how you kept watching our kids with such love in your eyes. The way you played with them. How you kept Sam from being so scared of the monsters in masks. How you ever so sweetly kept my hand in yours when you were scared." Danny slipped his arms around her waist, "You are beautiful. And not just physically. You are the most beautiful wonderful woman in the world. And I'm so lucky to be able to call you mine.""Where is this coming from Danny?" Linda wondered as Danny's tone of voice was more serious."I just want to to always know how much I love you and how much you mean to me." Danny rested his chin on her shoulder."Well, that feeling is incredibly mutual Sergeant Reagan." Linda smiled wide, "I love you so much." Linda turned in his arms.Danny kissed his wife hoping to be distracted enough to not think about the guilt and the shooting when that was all that was on his mind. He tried to think of something else all night but with it so fresh in his mind he couldn't get rid of it. Danny sighed and shook his head.Linda felt Danny shake slightly. She could tell he was upset about something. More often than not Danny was incredibly affectionate with her. But when he was like this she knew something was bothering him that he was trying to bury, "What's wrong?" She asked."Nothing." Danny whispered, "I swear. I just...need you. I love you. I can't ever see a second of life without you." Danny held her close, "I am so grateful for your love.""You sure that's all?" Linda pushed."That's it." Danny kissed his wife again praying she'd let it go and worry about him. She didn't need to have the guilt and nightmares like he did.
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That night long after they'd fallen asleep together, Linda woke up when she felt Danny jolt awake beside her, "NO! LINDA!" He yelled as he woke up from a nightmare.Linda looked over at Danny who was sitting up in bed panting, "Babe. Are you okay?" She asked. "I'm sorry." Danny apologized without looking at her. Danny closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.Linda shifted to sit up beside him, "Danny." Linda put an arm on his shoulder. She'd seen him wake up like this before when having a nightmare. It was never a good sign when Danny had such vivid nightmares.Danny shook his head, "I'm sorry Linda." He whispered brokenly."Sorry for what?" Linda rubbed his arm soothingly. "I didn't mean to wake you." Danny took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. Go back to sleep. I'm okay." Danny flashed her a weak smile, "I'll be right back. It's okay." He kissed the top of her head as he slid out of bed. Danny crossed the room and walked into their bathroom to breathe for a minute, leaving the door cracked open. When he'd been gone for almost five minutes Linda knew something was wrong despite what he said.Linda got out of bed walking to the bathroom. She tapped on the door lightly, "Babe?" She said softly. Linda nudged the door open more to see Danny sitting on the bathroom floor with his face in his hands. Linda didn't say a word as she knelt down in front of him. Linda wrapped her husband in her arms holding him tight, "When you're ready. I'm here." Linda said softly. The couple sat together for a few moments. Danny quietly breaking down in the arms of his wife. Linda holding him tight trying to provide as much comfort as possible."It keeps playing in my head." Danny sighed, "She dies. I wake up. I kill her every time." Danny's voice cracked. Danny shifted to pull is wife into his lap. He brought Linda's hand up to his mouth kissing the back of it, "Only this time.....it wasn't Becca." "What do you mean?" Linda asked."The perp had a hood on. I couldn't see her face. She reached into her coat and I shot. When I pulled the hood back....it was you. I shot you. I-I had killed you." Danny shook his head, "I'm sorry Linda. I'm so sorry.""It was a nightmare, Danny." Linda told him, "Just a horrible nightmare. Baby, you are the last person on Earth that could ever hurt me." Linda hugged Danny tight."It was so real. I swore I was dreaming still when I woke up." Danny frowned, "That you in bed was a figment of my imagination." "I'm here Danny. I swear. I'm right here." Linda kissed his lips gently, "I'm right here. I'm okay.""Why was it you?" Danny asked."I don't know. But I swear I'm okay." Linda promised him. "I know." Danny squeezed her tight to his chest wincing in pain slightly."I saw that." Linda frowned, "Take your shirt off. Let me check those bruises.""Linda." Danny sighed."Please?" She said softly. Danny complied stripping hs shirt off so Linda could see the purpling-blue bruises on Danny's chest. She carefully ran her fingers over them to make sure they were healing properly, "It's probably just muscle strain from moving so fast when you woke up." Linda frowned. She stood up carefully and pulled a bottle of pain medicine out of the cabinet, "Take two of these.""What is it?" Danny took the pills from her."Ibuprofen. It will help with the swelling and the pain." Linda told him."Thank you." Danny said sincerely. "C'mon. Let's get you back in bed. You look exhausted." Linda said softly. She took his hands in her tugging him to his feet. "I don't know what to do about this Linda." Danny confessed as he turned the light out in the bathroom. "About what?" Linda asked. "About this whole thing. I can't shake this girls' death." Danny sighed.Linda waited for Danny to get settled in bed before cuddling up next to him, "You don't. You learn to deal with it. The lives saved counters the lives lost. And as long as that scale stays tipped in the lives saved, you carry on. You take what you can from this and walk away with it. In this case, you had no choice but to shoot. Everyone who was there and everyone who investigated it said the same thing. So don't beat yourself up over something that, while yes, took the life of a young woman, but also kept you, two officers, your daughter-in-law, and civilians safe." Linda traced her finger on her husband's torso while she laid her head on hs chest, "You can't keep letting this eat you up. It's going to destroy you." Linda closed her eyes tight, "You will always be my hero but you're not Superman, Danny. You can't spin the Earth backward and go back in time. You did what you had to do at the time. And no one will fault you for that.""I wish I hadn't seen that holster. Or that I'd seen nothing in it." Danny held Linda close."And if you didn't see it and there was a gun, you, or Kathleen, or both of you, or those officers, could be dead." Linda said seriously. Linda propped up on her elbow, "You did what you needed to do. And I'm proud of you. I'm proud of you for doing your job, for protecting our streets, our City. For keeping Kathleen safe. For keeping your promise, and coming home to me." Linda leaned down to kiss her husband sweetly only to be taken by surprise when he tilted his head deepening the kiss."I love you." Danny said softlyI love you more." Linda grinned."I love you the most." Danny pulled her down for another kiss. It was just the distraction Danny needed to relax enough to fall back asleep that night tangled in his wife's arms. Linda prayed Danny would sleep all night. Not only was it a long night for Danny, it was a long night for Linda too. Linda just hoped she'd be able to help Danny through this.
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When Danny woke up the next morning Linda was already awake. She was lying with her head on his chest lost in thought. When Danny moved his hand to rub her arm she jumped not realizing he was awake yet."Morning." Danny felt like he'd slept for a year. He looked at the time. It was almost nine o'clock, "Shit. We're late." Danny started to move to get up."No. We're not." Linda shook her head putting a hand on Danny's chest, "You and I are skipping church this week." "What?" Danny wondered if he forgot about something he was supposed to do this morning, "What about the kids?""We have an appointment this morning and the kids are with your father. Jamie and Margaret are helping watch them." Linda explained."Appointment where?" Danny wondered. He didn't remember scheduling anything for a Sunday morning. Usually, they tried to avoid that at all costs."Dr. Bennett. I need you to come with me today and this was the only time I could make it for. We need to be there by eleven." Linda told him.Danny nodded his head, "I must have forgotten about it." "I made it this morning." Linda confessed."You okay?" Danny asked."Yeah. I just think we both could use someone else to talk to." She shifted a bit to look up at her husband."Linda I don't think I need..." Danny started to speak only to have Linda cut him off."Please? For me?" Linda knew she was begging him but she felt Danny needed to talk to someone. And Dr. Bennett had been working with Linda and Danny together and Linda alone for years. Maybe she could help Danny too."Okay." Danny agreed. He'd do anything for Linda.The couple showered and dressed before having a quiet breakfast together. Once finished they headed off to Dr. Bennett's office. Danny kept Linda's hand in his during the drive over and while they waited in the waiting room. "Linda. Danny. Why don't you two come in?" Dr. Bennett smiled warmly. Linda squeezed Danny's hand as they walked into the office and sat on the couch, "How are you both doing?" She asked."Okay." Linda smiled."Danny how about you?" Dr. Bennett wondered."I'm fine." Danny tried to pretend everything was normal."Everyone sleeping well? How's Kathleen doing? The last time you were here Danny I think it was right after the whole incident wth your daughter-in-law and that investigation with Internal Affairs. Everything go okay?" She asked."Yeah. I mean as okay as it can be with IAB." Danny admitted."What does that mean?" Dr. Bennett asked for clarification."It was a hard situation for everyone. Kathleen is my son's wife and the girl wasn't armed and I killed her. She was unarmed." Danny shook his head, "Look, it's not a big deal.""Danny." Linda said softly."What Linda?!" Danny grumbled, "You want me to tell her how I'm having nightmares so she can tell me I'm crazy and give me some magic pill to pop to make it better?!" Danny blew up, "I'm not like you, Linda! I can't just ride the crazy train and be okay with taking a medication to not feel so nuts all the time. It's nightmares. It will go away. I killed an unarmed kid. I deserve the nightmares.""Ride the crazy train?" Linda asked wondering where his words came from."That's not what I mean." Danny sighed, "You're not crazy. Your head is messed up like Dad's cholesterol. He takes pills for that and you take pills for anxiety and depression. It makes sense. But I don't have that. I feel guilty because I am guilty.""If you're so guilty then why dd Internal Affairs close the case? Why weren't you tried for murder or convicted of homicide or even manslaughter?" Dr. Bennett countered. Danny looked at her as he tried to think of an answer."She was wearing an ankle holster. I thought I saw a gun and I shot." Danny explained."So it was a good shoot?" Dr. Bennett asked."Yeah. They said it was the proper force for the situation." Danny agreed."Then you have nothing to be guilty for. Because you did nothing wrong." Dr. Bennett said softly."Danny you protected Kathleen and yourself." Linda put a hand on hs shoulder."I killed a kid." Danny frowned."Who was endangering your life and the lives of others around you." Dr. Bennett reminded Danny."I wish I could take it back." Danny sighed."But then you'd have to deal with the consequences of if she had a gun and fired it at someone." Dr. Bennett "What if it was you? Or Kathleen? What if she was shot?" Linda asked.Danny shook his head, "I don't konw." He said honestly."You did the right thing. Now you just have to trust everyone around you who keeps saying the same thing. You did the right thing." Dr. Bennett repeated."I'm proud of you for standing up the way you did." Linda kissed the back of his hand, "I'm proud you're my husband." "I love you." Danny said softly to his wife.After another forty-minutes Danny left the room surprisingly feeling better than when he walked into the room an hour ago. The rest of the day passed slowly with meeting the Reagan family for lunch together. Danny was glad to see all hs kids behaving with each other so well. He smiled when Sam begged to sit between him and Linda. Linda of course, loving to spoil the kids, let Sam have his way. Dinner that night was uneventful with Jamie and Margaret spilling the beans on their engagement. Turns out Jamie had asked Margaret to marry him after the carnival and she'd said yes. Danny couldn't be happier for his little brother. Jamie deserved every ounce of happines in his life. Danny sat on the couch after dinner with Linda tucked under his arm while the Jet game played on the TV saying a silent prayer for whatever good thing he'd done in his life to be married to such an amazing woman. Thinking of just how lucky he really was.
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Linda stood in the bathroom looking at the small orange bottle. She wondered what life would be like if she stopped taking them. She could remember the feelings of helplessness, fear, terror, sadness. She knew that if she stopped taking her medication it could cost her, her life. Danny had once told her that he didn't care if that's what she needed. That she was strong and he was proud of her for taking care of herself. Yet, today, he'd called her crazy and commented on the "magic pills". Linda swallowed the pill with a glass of water before walking out of the bathroom. Danny still wasn't back from Sam's bedroom. The little boy had heard a noise outside his window and was scared. Danny was trying to get him to see it was just the wind whistling outside. That he was safe. Daddy would always keep him safe. Linda slipped into bed, laying on her side away from Danny's side of the bed. She didn't know what to say to him. His words running through her mind on repeat. Linda sighed when she felt the bed dip behind her."He's asleep." Danny said, "We cleared the whole room together. Then looked outside to see the leaves falling in the wind." Danny looked over at his wife who hadn't reacted at all to his words, "You okay?" He asked."Fine. Just tired." Linda sighed trying to let go of Danny's comment during therapy. But what if that's what he really thought? What if he lied about being okay with her taking medication?"You sure?" Danny slid an arm around her waist only to have her shrug it off."I'm fine Danny." Linda said more forcefully than she meant."Please don't lie to me." Danny requested. "Fine." Linda whipped around and sat up, "You want to know what my problem is?! You. You think I'm crazy! You said so in therapy today. Think that I take 'magic pills' to get better. Think that my head's messed up, that I 'ride the crazy train', that I'm nuts! You have said over and over how you don't care that I take pills and even defended that to your family when they all said Reagan's don't take pills. But that was obviously a lie now wasn't it Danny?!"Danny sat back not expecting Linda to blow up like this, "I didn't call you crazy! I said you're different! I said that it makes sense you take pills because you need to! And what happened to therapy being a space for both of us to say what we felt without fearing the others reaction?!" Danny asked."You thought you could say that and it wouldn't affect me?!" Linda gasped."You're the one that dragged me there in the first place under the guise of you needing to go, but somehow it was an ambush on me because you thought I needed to talk. Nevermind if I wanted to or was ready to. You decided that before I got a chance to!" Danny yelled at her."Because you'd never go on your own and you and I both know that!" Linda shook her head."You didn't even give me an option to decide that or not!" Danny let out a deep breath."Oh please, Danny! You know damn well you wouldn't go!" Linda yelled back."I'm sick of you thinking you know everything! You can't just make a decision for me then get pissed because you don't like how I react to it!" Danny threw the covers off him, getting out of bed.Linda watched Danny walk around the room throwing clothes on, "What do you think you're doing?!" Linda asked."You don't get to tell me what to do Linda." Danny pulled a shirt on over his head."So now I don't even get to know where you're going or what you're doing?! Now you are just going to do whatever you want because you're mad at me for thinking that talking to someone might help with those nightmares you've been having?!" Linda sneered."Out! I'm going out! I'm done listening to you tell me what to do, and how to react. You kill an unarmed kid then tell me what the normal reaction is!" Danny stuffed his wallet in his jean pocket before shoving his sneakers on his feet."I don't understand what you're so hung up on!" Linda crossed her arms, "So you're just going out?""Yes, Linda! Out!" Danny searched for his car keys atop their dresser."Out where?!" Linda asked."Out of this house! Away from you!" Danny grabbed his keys, "I'm done being your little game that you think you can figure out! You're broken puzzle to put back together again. It's gonna stop! I'm so sick and tired of you thinking that just because you're a nurse you know everything there is to know! You have no idea what I'm going through and you acting like you do is going to stop!""That's not what I'm doing!" Linda said angrily."That's exactly what you're doing and I'm done with it!" Danny walked out of their bedroom slamming their door behind him, leaving Linda in bed wondering what to do next.Detective Jamie Reagan never imagined that in the middle of the night while celebrating their recent engagement he would be pulled from his bed with his fiancee to pick up his drunk big brother from a local cop bar.Jamie walked into the bar, spotting Danny sitting on a stool still drinking. Jamie sat down next to Danny, "You don't have a gun on you at the moment do you?" Jamie asked."Hmmm....not that stupid." Danny slurred a bit. Jamie grinned. He couldn't recall ever seeing Danny drunk. When Danny was in college he had his share of parties but he was also working and had a family so his party days were limited. Besides with the age gap between them, Jamie often didn't see Danny act irrisponsbly, "What are you doing here Jamie?" Danny asked as if he just noticed Jamie beside him."O'Neill called me. Said you won't give him your keys. He thought I was a better phone call than Dad." Jamie said."You a'int gettin' my keeeeyysss O'Neill. Drivin' sssssucks" Danny sipped the last drop of his whiskey, "Youse seen him drive?" Danny asked Jamie."No, but I'm confident your driving would suck more than his at the moment." Jamie grinned. Danny hummed in agreement as he ordered another drink. Jamie shook his head,"What about some water Danny?" The bartender handed Danny a water refusing his request for a drink."Sure." Danny swayed slightly on his stool."Why are you out here Danny?" Jamie asked, "What's going on?" "Don't get marrrried Jamie." Danny sighed, "Liiiinn-da doesn't get it. I kill a kid. She don't get it. She tinks she get it. But she don't." Danny said."What are you talking about Danny?" Jamie had no idea what Danny was referencing."That kid! Jack's....Kathleen's....stalker kid!" Danny couldn't remember Becca's name at the moment."Okay. Yeah. The one that IA said was a good shoot." Jamie remembered."Yeah. Good. But not good. It's-it's not okay." Danny shook his head, "She says, talk 'bout it. Takes me to that psycho...psycho...the lady....""Psychologist?" Jamie guessed."YES! Good job, Detective!" Danny patted Jamie on the shoulder, "So I talk an' Linda gets pissed. I'm done.""Done with what?" Jamie wondered what Danny was getting at."Her game. She thinks she know it all. She don't know it all. She don't know I know she think she know it all." Danny rambled, "She twisted what I say an' got pissed. I said I didn't say it like she said I said it an' she still pissed. She knowsssss better!""So you and Linda had a fight over something you said that she took one way but you meant another way?" Jamie tried to figure out why his brother was drunk on a Sunday night."Yeah but it's in the office! She-she-she can't get mad for that! It's the rules!" Danny sighed."You said something with the psychologist that ticked off Linda and she took it outside the session and you two argued." Jamie concluded."Youse a good detectititve." Danny said messing up on the word 'detective'."And you're drunk. C'mon. Margaret dropped me off so I can drive your car. You can sleep this off on my couch since I'm sure Linda wouldn't want you on your couch right now and Dad would be pretty pissed to see you like this." Jamie paid Danny's tab before helping his brother up."She gon'na be mad!" Danny said realizing just how ticked LInda would be knowing he didn't come home after leaving in the middle of an argument."Yeah well, she'll get over it." Jamie blew it off. He'd call Linda once Danny was settled at his house and try to keep her calm. Danny was safe. Drunk and stupid but safe. He was lucky he was working nights that week. He'd have time in the morning to sleep off the hangover was sure to have.
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Almost a week went by with Danny and Linda at each other's throats. Danny was barely home, working longer hours, citing paperwork to catch up on just to avoid going home. Linda had avoided Danny like the plauge all week. Even Frank felt the tension in the house offering to take the kids or watch them so Linda and Danny could talk but neither one of his kids took him up on the offer. Even Sunday dinner was tense between all family members. It was as if Danny and Linda's argument was the big elephant in the room. Jamie hadn't told anyone except Linda that he picked up his brother drunk last Sunday. But when Danny showed up to work all week looking like Hell run over, most of the men and women in blue assumed he was having a rough week and the rumors started to fly.Another week of tension went by until one Monday, Danny looked over at the clock on the wall in his office. It was half-past ten in the morning. His phone had buzzed reminding him of a session with Dr. Bennett and Linda that morning. Danny had texted his wife saying he was busy and couldn't go. It wasn't a total lie. He was working. But he had already cleared his schedule for the appointment. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to have Linda use what he said in there against him. They'd been arguing over everything from small to large lately and Danny was tired. He didn't want to keep fighting with her anymore. Danny already felt guilty enough for the problems between the two of them. He'd come home three nights over the last week to notice Linda had cried herself to sleep. She looked as exhausted as he was and was fielding questions from the kids about why Daddy was working a lot. Danny watched as the clock ticked on. As the minutes passed he started to feel even worse. Here he was hiding out at work when his wife was waiting for him. He GPSed her phone on his to see where she was. Sure enough, there it was. At Dr. Bennett's office. Danny sighed as he stood up. He could at least show up. If Linda was there then Danny should be too. They agreed to do couples therapy together. Sure Linda saw Dr. Bennett alone but that wasn't the same. Danny felt guilty enough. He turned off his computer, grabbed his keys, wallet and gun and locked his office door behind him."Where are you going?" Beaz looked up from her desk."I have a thing." Danny said, "Someone needs me have them text me." Danny called over hs shoulder as he walked out of the office.Linda sat on her side of the couch in Dr. Bennett's office not speaking. She hated that Danny wasn't coming. She'd had two sessions alone with Dr. Bennett over the last couple of weeks. They talked about how Linda was wrong for taking Danny's words out of the session. How she twisted them around and refused to listen to Danny explain himself. How she fractured the trust they'd built up with each other. How it was her responsibility to repair it."Linda." Dr. Bennett said softly, "He's not coming today. He said so himself. You've been here almost a half hour. Why don't we talk about how you're feeling right now?"Linda looked up from where she'd been staring at her hands, "If I talk I'm going to cry." Linda whispered."Crying is good. It's getting the emotions out." Dr. Bennett said."I've cried so much. I don't want to cry anymore." Linda shook her head."Why have you been crying?" Dr. Bennett asked.Linda picked at her nails, "I'm scared." She admitted."Of what?" Dr. Bennett questioned."It's stupid. He's told me a thousand times it would never happen." Linda sighed."What would never happen?" Dr. Bennett pushed gently."That he would leave." Linda whispered, "Danny and I have been arguing. You know that. Ever since I was an idiot." Linda sniffled, "Now we've barely talked. It's been almost two weeks. We don't talk, we avoid each other, he doesn't hold my hand at the dinner table." Linda let a tear slip, "We don't cuddle like we used to. It's like everything is falling apart." Linda tried to stop the tears but couldn't, "I feel like we are losing each other and I know that I'm at fault for saying what I said. I don't want to lose him because I was an idiot.""Have you apologized?" Dr. Bennett asked."Not really." Linda said, "I mean, the day after I tried to but it didn't go over well." Linda recalled trying to talk to Danny while he was hungover."And you haven't tried again since?" Dr. Bennett wondered."No. Because it's not going to change anything. He said he can't trust me like that anymore." Linda wiped her tears.Dr. Bennett frowned when her phone buzzed. She checked her message quickly. She texted her receptionist back as Linda tried to stop crying. "Linda, why are you crying?" Danny walked over to his wife. He was late but he made it to the session. Danny sat down next to Linda, the closest they'd been in weeks.Linda looked up confused, "What are you doing here Danny?""It's our session, right? I make the time to come and try as hard as I can to be here for all of them. That was one of the rules when we started this right?" Danny reminded her."Right." Linda nodded her head, "I just didn't think you wanted to. That it wasn't....worth it anymore." She frowned."I don't want to be here." Danny said truthfully, "But I think I need to be. And our marriage is worth everything." Danny said."Thank you." Linda whispered."Do you want to tell me why you're crying?" Danny asked. Dr. Bennett sat quietly letting her patients work together.Linda started crying harder, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ever thrown those words back at you. I shouldn't have started that fight. I shouldn't have argued with you like that. You were saying what you felt and you even said it wasn't about me and I still turned it around. I'm sorry. I should have never said that. I'm so sorry Danny." Linda rambled."You're right." Danny nodded his head, "Linda, since we started doing this together, we've always had an open policy. What we say in here can't be used against each other out there." He reminded her."I know. And I'm stupid for the lapse in judgment. I'm such an idiot for starting that whole argument." Linda beat herself up."Hey. No one talks about my wife like that. Not even you." Danny cupped her chin tilting her head up, "You're not stupid, or an idiot. You just...didn't think. And while it hurts that you violated the trust we have in here, I'm willing to work on it if you are."Linda nodded her head, "I know you've said it won't happen over and over again, but I'm scared this is such a big fight we won't figure out how to fix things." Linda admitted."And I'm scared that you'll see me as weak if you see just how much the shooting has hurt me." Danny told her, "So how about I help you not feel so scared? I swear I won't leave. Ever. And I'll say it with every breath if that's what makes you feel better.""And I will be strong for you so you can break down to deal with the shooting however you need to deal with it." Linda suggested."I was so mad at you. I didn't like that you were pushing me. And I said a lot that I shouldn't have. The one thing I didn't say that I should have is that I love you, Linda. Even when you frustrate the Hell out of me. I love you. You will forever be the only one for me and if I've ever made you question that because we argued and have been arguing, I'm sorry." Danny said softly."No. I'm sorry." Linda sniffled, "It was my fault. It was my comment that set the argument off, I'm the one that forced you to come here when you weren't ready, and I've been the one that hasn't let you talk. I'm sorry I let it get so far. I'm sorry I broke your trust. I love you so much.""What do we do now, Doc?" Danny asked."Well, you two have done a good job of working through this so far. It isn't over. And it won't be over for a long time. Trust takes a lot of time to rebuild once it's broken. And Linda, you've done that. You've broken that seal. But obstacles are put in the way to see if what you want is really worth fighting for." Dr. Bennett said, "Linda you said you're scared that you two fight and Danny will want a divorce even after he's said that won't happen, right?" Linda nodded her head, "Then I want you to remember this. In every marriage that is over a week old, there are grounds for divorce. I'm sure you and Danny could write pages of things that people would divorce over that have happened in your relationship. However, the trick to staying married is to continue to find reasons to stay married. Why do you want to stay married to Danny?""I love him." Linda replied."But he has a short fuse and can say hurtful things then apologize and it happens again. He yells and has a quick temper sometimes. He doesn't hurt you but he does make you cry or upset you. Why do you still love him through that?" Dr. Bennett asked."Because I know that in those moments it's not really Danny. It is but it's not. It's the anger or the PTSD or the fear even coming through and even though it hurts I know he'd never intentionally say something to hurt me." Linda explained, "He keeps me safe, protects me. He provides for our children. He's an amazing, wonderful man and I couldn't be more proud to call him my husband. Danny is the love of my life and there is no one in the world I'd rather stand beside for the rest of my life.""Then that's how you keep the insecurity at bay. You chose to pick your husband over the arguing and the fight. Because of the man he is. Not because of the circumstance at the moment." Dr. Bennett smiled, "Danny, why are you scared to be weak? To let Linda hold you up?""Because I'm her protector. I'm the man. I'm supposed to be the one to hold her up." Danny said softly."Strength isn't being the strong one all the time. Strength is the will to get back up after you've fallen down. It grows in the moments when you think you can't go on but you push through anyway." Dr. Bennett told him, "And both of you need to remember that couples who come in here and are out in two sessions just as happy as before are the ones that I see most often. They are back with second and third marriages because they can't make it work. They aren't strong couples. The two of you are among the strongest I've ever seen. It's not the fighting that makes you strong. It's the making up. The apologizing. The changing behaviors. The realization that your marriage is more important than your differences. The act of forgiveness and acceptance of each other's mistakes. You fight and learn something new about each other or your relationship. It's the realization that you two either fight together and lose together or fight together and win together. That's how this works. Don't fool yourselves into thinking real relationships are perfect and you should be in here loving on each other every session. That's all well and good but this is a safe place. For both of you to talk freely without the fear of being used outside of this room. This is where you two can talk to each other candidly and no one gets hurt. This room is a safety net. To keep things from escalating to a point where you can't find the light at the end of the tunnel anymore. Because your relationship is worth more than a few nights in the dark. Marriage is not invincible. You will continue to have arguments and hurt each other. However, if you believe in each other and in your marriage it will be unstoppable." Dr. Bennett smiled as she watched her patients. Danny put his arm around Linda who shifted closer to him."I love you." She whispered."I love you more." Danny grinned."I love you the most." Linda kissed Danny sweetly, feeling better than she had in a long time. Linda knew there was still work to do. That Danny still had to handle the guilt and feelings from the shooting but knowing that they'd been handed the tools to work through everything side by side. Knowing that they were both, ready, willing and able to do whatever it took to work together.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Thanksgiving came and went with the Reagan family spending the day together. Kathleen had sent Linda tons of pictures the following day of Maddie 'helping' decorate the house for Christmas with her and Jack. The first day of December fell on a Friday night. Linda had dropped Charlie off at Sean's house when Sean called asking if she could meet him in Statin Island instead of him picking Charlie up in Bay Ridge. When Linda got there she noticed the almost empty fridge and took her son and grandson grocery shopping reprimanding Sean for not saying he was waiting for the next paycheck to pick up a few things. Sean promised it wasn't like that all the time. But with the holiday it shifted the day he was supposed to get paid and he'd needed to wait a few more days to get groceries. He tried to let his Mom only pick up the bare minimum that he needed. Milk, graham crackers for Charlie, a box of cereal, peanut butter, and some eggs but a full cart of food later Sean stopped arguing with his mother letting her fill the kitchen as much as she wanted. After the groceries were put away Linda told her son that she didn't mind helping if he needed a little extra cash between paychecks. Sean brushed it off like his father would saying he could take care of himself and his kid, she didn't need to do anything. Linda smiled and told him she knew he could handle it. On her way home Linda wondered if the kids were asleep yet. When she'd left all three of them were whiny and cranky. Linda parked her car surprised to see Danny's car in the driveway. He'd been working when she left the kids with Frank after dinner. Linda walked into the house. It was dark inside but a glow from the living room caught her eye. Linda walked into the living room and smiled. Danny was leaning against the back of couch waiting for her. Candles were lit and a chilled bottle of wine with two glasses sat on the coffee table."What is all this?" Linda paused in the doorway."Date night." Danny grinned, "Kids are asleep. I'm home early. And we haven't had a date night in a long time." Danny walked over to her."Too long of a time." Linda smiled.Danny wrapped his arms around her waist, "I decorated for Christmas while you were gone." "You what?" Linda asked."I put up the only thing that matters." Danny pointed up to the ceiling.Linda looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging above her head, "That's really corny." Linda giggled."But it's going to get me a kiss." Danny teased."That it is." Linda pecked his lips, "Was Sean in on this? Is that why I went grocery shopping and why he needed me to bring Charlie home instead of him being picked up?"Danny shook his head, "No. That was just a coincidence. A good coincidence.""I was thinking that was your excuse for getting me out of the house when you came home and set this up." Linda smiled wide.Danny kissed her softly again, "C'mon. I put a movie you like in for us to watch. Hopefully while they all stay asleep upstairs."Linda let Danny lead her to the couch and hand her a glass of wine, "Are you really going to watch one of my romance movies that you always say are so cheesy?" Linda pulled her feet up and settled into Danny's side."That would be sweet wouldn't it?" Danny smiled."It would be very sweet." Linda agreed."Too bad it's Die Hard." Danny turned on the TV to where he'd set the movie up at the beginning."Die Hard?" Linda asked in wonder."You like Die Hard. I like Die Hard. I thought it was a win-win." Danny defended himself."Die Hard is not a date night movie." Linda tried not to laugh but failed."It is a date night movie and it just so happens to be the best Christmas movie ever made." Danny hit play."Just because a movie takes place at Christmas time doesn't make it a Christmas movie." Linda laughed."Die Hard is an action Christmas movie. It takes place on Christmas Eve. It's about love and it's romantic." Danny smiled."Shooting bad guys with an Uzi at his wife's company Christmas party isn't romantic." Linda shook her head."First of all, he never uses an Uzi. He uses his Beretta or the H&K MP5. Second, of all, he and his wife get back together at the end when he saves the day. And he brings the best gift he could ever give!" Danny grinned."What gift?" Linda asked."Freedom!" Danny laughed, "And Hans is a better Christmas villain than the Grinch. And it's full of Christmas music." Linda laughed loudly, "Okay. You win." She shook her head with a smile. Linda sipped her wine as the movie played. Eventually, the two of them stretching out on the couch with Danny's feet on the coffee table and Linda's head in his lap. Danny's hand absentmindedly running up and down her side while she lay on the couch.Linda jumped slightly when part of the building blew up. She felt Danny's hand slip around her while the other ran fingers through her hair, "Every time." Linda sighed, "We've seen this movie a thousand times yet every time that scene comes on I flinch.""I used to think it was just because you wanted to be closer to me." Danny grinned.Linda turned onto her back to look up at her husband, "I did do that when we watched scary movies sometimes. When we were dating and you'd come over, I used to purposely pick scary movies just so we'd cuddle." Linda lauged, "This just always catches me off-guard." "Why do you think we used to watch Halloween so often? It scared you and you'd shift into my arms to not look at the movie." Danny reminded her."That movie still scares me." Linda said."Then it's a good thing you sleep next to me." Danny flirted."That's a good thing for many reasons. Protection is just one of them." Linda sighed happily, "You're always warmer than I am. I'm ten times more comfortable in bed with you than without you. I love you. That's a big reason." Linda hummed happily.Danny kissed his wife's lips, "Remember when we used to sneak you over here when we were first dating? I'd go pick you up when you snuck out and we'd watch movies all night long?" Linda shifted so she was sitting in Danny's lap."If I recall correctly we spend eighty-percent of the night making out and the other twenty percent hoping not to get caught sneaking around." Linda smiled.Danny kissed his way down her neck and back up, "We should take a note from our younger selves." He slipped a hand under the hem of her shirt resting it on the small of her back."We have a room we can make out in now. And there's no thrill of getting caught and in trouble anymore." Linda teased."Oh, I can make it thrilling." Danny grinned. He flipped them around pushing Linda into the couch, "You're so beautiful." He kissed her softly."I love you so much." Linda melted into Danny's touch.The two continued making out while Die Hard played in the background. Danny had his pulled his shirt off while his hands roamed his wife's body under her clothes when they both heard Frank and Jamie's voices as they walked into the room."So that's when I told the guy-Shit! Sorry! I didn't see anything!" Jamie spun around with his back to his brother and sister-in-law."Don't you two have a bedroom?" Frank laughed.Linda felt her face flush hot as she snorted with laughter, "Oh my God!" "I thought you said you were going out?!" Danny looked at his father."I did. Thought I could come home tonight." Frank grinned, "I think I should have called first." He laughed."We-we were....uh...just..." Danny stammered."I'm going to get a drink." Frank cut him off."Me too." Jamie nodded his head as they walked out of the room."I need one too!" Linda yelled from her spot under her husband. Linda wiped the tears from laughing so hard. She heard Jamie and Frank leave the room, "Thrilling, indeed. Good job, Babe." Linda teased Danny."I may have misjudged how long he was supposed to be gone." Danny pulled his shirt back on, "I'm sorry.""Don't be sorry. That's the funniest thing that's happened in weeks!" Linda giggled, "My side hurts!" She put a hand over her mouth as she laughed."You wouldn't be laughing if it was five minutes later." Danny grinned."Probably not but it wasn't and that made it hysterical." Linda smiled wide, "I'll blow the candles out and take the glasses to the kitchen. You go make sure they know we're not having sex in the living room while they sit in the parlor." Linda kissed her husband quickly."Hey." He grabbed her hand, "I am sorry. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind for tonight."Linda shrugged her shoulders, "Tonight was perfect. I spent time with you. That's all that matters." She kissed him slowly, "Thank you for tonight. It was amazing." Linda said sincerely.Danny watched as his wife blew the few candles he'd lit out. She gathered the wine and the glasses before making her way to the kitchen. She was probably right. Things hadn't turned out the way he'd planned but it was still an incredible night to just be together. No kids, no commitments, nothing but Danny and Linda spending time with each other.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
As November faded and Christmas gradually came Danny's guilt had started to disappear. Slowly but surely he was letting go of the events surrounding the shooting. As per usual, the children were spoiled by their parents and grandparents for Christmas with Frank spoiling everyone. New Year's Eve, Linda and Danny had made plans to go out with Jamie and Margaret however that was before the flu ran through the Reagan house knocking Linda down after the three kids. Linda lay in bed while Danny put the kids to bed for the third time that night. Sam was having the hardest time falling asleep and Grace kept waking Faith all night long. She hated being sick. She was looking forward to going out tonight but the flu had other ideas. Linda tossed yet again another tissue into the trash can. Her nose just wouldn't quit running. Linda threw the blanket off. Her fever kept spiking no matter what she did to combat it. She was hot then cold then hot again. It was a never ending cycle that prevented her from getting any rest. And on top of not feeling well, Danny had been working late most nights over the last week. As much as Linda loved her children she needed some rest. Trying to get sleep with three small children in the house wasn't an easy task. "Kids are all asleep." Danny walked into the bedroom shutting the door behind him. "I wish I could sleep." Linda grumbled."I know baby." Danny frowned, "I'm sorry you're sick." "You should be. It's your fault." Linda rolled onto her side."My fault?" Danny asked. Technically it was Sam's fault. He was the one to bring the virus back from school first. He was sick before Christmas then gave it to Faith who shared with Grace who so kindly gave it to Linda."It's your fault we had more kids." Linda explained in a yawn.Danny chuckled, "Oh okay.""Can you get me more water?" Linda half asked, half whined."Of course I can." Danny picked up her water glass, "How do you feel?" Danny pressed his lips to her forehead, "Your fever is back up." He frowned. "I'm hot and my head hurts. And stomach hurts and I'm tired but I can't sleep." Linda said quietly."I'll get you some water. Do you want anything else?" Danny brushed some hair away from her eyes."To feel better?" Linda asked."I will do the best I can to make you better." Danny kissed her forehead again before going to get her more water. When he came back Linda was out of bed. He frowned seeing the bathroom light on. He knew she'd gotten sick again. Danny put the water glass down before knocking softly on the bathroom door, "Babe? You okay?" "Yeah." Linda said in a shaky voice.Danny pushed the door opens slowly, "What can I do for you?" He asked knowing his options were limited.Linda looked up from her spot on the floor, "Nothing really." She said on the brink of tears. Linda hated being sick. She always felt like crying when she didn't feel well. She hated that she was so pathetic when she was sick."C'mon why don't you take a cool bath. Put on some fresh pajamas. And maybe that will help you get some rest." Danny suggested. "Okay." Linda nodded her head. She had no energy to argue with him. Linda let Danny fill the tub while she sat on the bathroom floor. Danny helped undress his wife and get her settled in the bath before leaving for a moment to get her clothes and change the bed sheets. Linda had to admit. He had a good idea. The bath was cooling her down and she felt a bit better with a lower temperature."What do you want to wear?" Danny asked."One of your shirts." Linda looked up at Danny with large sad eyes."Anyone in particular?" Danny smiled warmly."Just yours." Linda said. Danny nodded is head and set one of his t-shirts out for her. When he waLked into the bathroom again Linda looked ready to fall asleep. Danny picked up the washcloth gently washing his wife. "Tip your head back." He said softly as he washed her hair."How did I ever get so lucky?" Linda asked softly as Danny pulled the plug letting the water out.Danny smiled, "Because an idiot in tinfoil fell in love with you and you mistook him for your knight in shining armor." "Still my favorite hero." Linda sat on the lid of the toilet letting Danny take care of her.Once dried off Danny led her to their bed where Linda practically melted into the clean sheets. Danny climbed into bed beside her pulling her into s arms."Feel better?"He asked."A little." Linda nodded her head, "Thank you." she hugged him close.He rubbed her back in small circles, "Hey." Danny said softly, "It's almost midnight." He out a finger under Linda's chin to turn her head to him, "Happy New Year Baby." "Happy New Year." Linda whispered. Danny pecked her lips sweetly, "If you get sick because you kiss me I claim no responsibility." "Sick or no sick. We have a tradition." Danny kissed her gently again as the clock ticked midnight, "I love you""I love you more." Linda replied, with a small smile."I love you the most." Danny pressed his lips to her forehead. Linda eventually fell asleep for a few hours while Danny held her close, rubbed her back, kissed her head, and made her feel better by just being there for her. She didn't know what she'd ever done to be so lucky to have him in her life. She knew she never wanted a day to come when he wasn't in her life.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Two weeks later Danny and Linda had taken Sam, Faith, and Grace out to dinner as a surprise for them being so well behaved all week long. On the way home Danny stopped to fill Linda's car with gas so she wouldn't have to do it in the morning."You know what. While you pump I'm going to grab a gallon of milk." Linda said while Danny started pumping.Danny nodded his head, "Okay. You know what else we need? The kids are out of juice boxes for school and those little packages of cookies they get for a snack.""I just bought a box of those. You sure?" Linda asked. She swore she bought the big box only a few days ago. It should have lasted all three kids almost two weeks."Yeah. I took the last one to work today." Danny grinned."You're eating the kid's snack packs?" Linda smirked."You don't buy me any." He defended himself."What would your detectives say if they knew their Sergeant stole his kid's snack packs?" Linda teased."They'd be jealous because they are really good cookies." Danny pinched his wife's butt playfully."I will get cookies for everyone." Linda sighed with a smile. She looked both ways before crossing the parking lot to run into the little store.Danny kept his eyes on his wife while he filled her car up. He replaced the pump handle and capped the gas tank. That's when he spotted two teen boys walking into the building. They had dark hoodies up over their heads. Danny turned his back to his car to watch the boys in the store. He saw Linda standing at the counter behind someone else with milk and sure enough, cookies for him and the kids, "C'mon baby." Danny whispered under his breath. He knew those teens were up to no good. He wanted his wife out of the store but couldn't leave the kids in the car alone with no one to watch them.Danny reached for his cell phone to call Linda and tell her to just leave the store. If he was thirty seconds faster she'd have been able to leave. One of the teens jumped over the counter pushing the sales associate to the ground. Danny watched as Linda searched the parking lot for him, "Damn it." Danny sighed. He looked around to see if there was anyone around. He spotted a woman pumping gas on the other side of the pump. Danny flashed his shield, "I'm a cop. My name is Sergeant Danny Reagan. The store is being robbed. Call nine-one-one. Tell them Sergeant Reagan is here off duty." "Yeah. Sure. But should you go in there?" She asked."It's my job. My kids are asleep in the car. Can you keep an eye on them till help arrives?" Danny asked pulling his gun from its holster."Yeah. Yeah. I got them." The woman nodded her head.Danny nodded his head, "Call nine-one-one. I'm Sergeant Reagan." He repeated before walking towards the store.Inside Linda watched as the boys slammed open the cash register taking all the money with it, "Where's the rest of it!?" The taller boy yelled."That's it! There is no more!" The associate shook his head."The safe! Where is it!?" The tall boy swung the baseball bat at the associate."I don't have access to it! I just work here a night or two a week!" The associate recoiled in pain."Then GET access to it!" The boy hit the associate wth the bat."Leave him alone!" Linda yelled at the kid, "He doesn't have anything.""You want to play with me, lady?!" The tall boy jumped over the counter and walked towards Linda, "That's a nice necklace. My girl would like a pretty gift." The boy grabbed at the shield necklace Linda wore every day since Danny had given it to her."Get away from me!" Linda yelled jerking away before the kid could rip her necklace off.The boy swung the bat nearly missing Linda's head, "Everyone! This bitch just got you all robbed too! Empty your bags, wallets, take off your jewelry, everything! I want it all!" The other boy continued to raid the cigarettes from behind the counter stuffing his backpack with cartons of cigarettes. The tall boy walked closer to Linda, "Take it off or I'll take it off for you." He threatened."I said get away from me!" Linda yelled at him. The boy reached behind his back when Danny burst through the door, "POLICE! HANDS UP!" The boy spun around swinging the bat around Linda's neck holding her in front of him. One hand still behind his back."I've got a gun! I'll shoot everyone in here before you have the balls to shoot me with her in the way!" He spat out."Let her go! Drop your weapons!" Danny instructed. The younger boy hid behind the counter with his bag stuffed full of cigarettes and cash hoping the cop that walked into the shop hadn't seen him. The patrons of the store hit the ground not wanting to be caught in the crossfire."You drop your weapon!" The boy holding Linda yelled."You don't want to make this worse than it is! Let her go! I will shoot you!" Danny said."Not while I have a hostage!" The kid said cockly."Just let her go! Drop your weapons!" Danny yelled."No way pig!" The kid moved the hand behind his back up slightly reaching for his gun."Show me your hands!" Danny yelled. He flashed back to shooting Becca. He wasn't sure if the kid had a gun or not but he was holding Linda hostage. He hadn't seen a gun but that didn't mean he didn't have one. "You want to see my hands!?" The boy taunted. Danny saw a flash of black and pulled the trigger. The boy and Linda both fell backward."You shot him!" The other kid jumped up from the counter, "You jerk!""Stay there!" Danny heard sirens behind him. He said a quick silent prayer of thanks to the responding officers. Danny rushed to his wife, "You okay?!"Linda nodded her head, "I'm fine." She nodded her head, putting a hand on the back of it where she'd hit it on the ground."You shot me! I can't believe you shot me!" The boy on the ground yelled, "Am I gonna die?!" Danny helped Linda up pushing her behind him, "You're going to be fine.""POLICE!" Officers yelled from behind Danny.Danny held his shield up, "Sergeant Reagan. I've got it under control. One perp down, call a bus. The second perp is there." Danny pointed to the kid near the counter."He shot me! I didn't even have a gun!" The kid on the ground yelled."Then what were you reaching for?!" Danny's mouth dropped open."Nothing! I was just trying to fake you out!" I didn't think you'd actually shoot me!" The kid yelled."Danny." Linda put her hand on his shoulder."This can't be happening." Danny sighed."Sergeant Reagan." One of his detectives walked over to him, "IA wants a word with you, Sir.""Tell them I'll be right there." Danny said. Danny looked at his wife, "Are you sure you're okay?" He asked."Just a bump on the head." Linda smiled, "Where are the kids?" She asked."Car. I'll be right back. Get that bump checked out. Please?" Danny begged her, knowing how stubborn she could be.Linda nodded her head, "I'm fine. Go. I'll wait in the car." Linda kissed his cheek before sending him off to talk to Internal Affairs. Linda watched as both boys were arrested and the one Danny shot was taken away in an ambulance. Linda gave her statement to the police while Danny talked to as did the woman he asked to watch the kids and call nine-one-one.Danny walked over to Linda, "It going to be a while. I have to go talk to these guys. You head home with the kids. I'll get a ride home when I'm done.""Everything okay?" Linda asked."Yeah. It will be fine." Danny kissed her lips, "Drive safe." He held her tightly not wanting to let go."You be safe too." Linda sighed. She watched as Danny sat in the back of a police car to be taken to the precinct where he'd be questioned about every detail of the night. She prayed it would go smoothly. When Linda got home she wasn't surprised to see Frank waiting for her. He helped unload kids from the car and get them into bed. Hours later Linda had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Danny to come home. She woke up startled when Danny shook her gently."Hey, you." Linda yawned, "Everything okay?" She asked."Everything is perfect." Danny smiled."You sure?" Linda left the unspoken question in the air. She wanted to ask if he was okay shooting an unarmed kid. After what happened with Becca and how much it messed with him. She wasn't sure how he truly felt at the moment."I'm okay. The meeting with IA went as fine as it can go. They said it was a good shot so I'm cleared. He was holding you hostage and grabbing for a weapon. Or at least that's what he wanted me to think. And he had a baseball bat to your neck holding you in front of him. I told him I was a cop. Told him to show hs hands and drop his weapons. He refused. I told him I'd shoot and he still reached behind him. I did everything by the book." Danny said."No guilt?" Linda asked.Danny shook his head, "No guilt. I promise. Come to bed with me." He held his hand out.Linda took Danny's hand squeezing it tight, "Okay. I love you." She wrapped her arms around his neck.Danny sighed, "I love you more." He grinned."I love you the most. My amazing, wonderful, protective, loving husband." Linda kissed Danny sweetly."You're wonderful." Danny tucked a stray hair behind Linda's ear. Danny led Linda to their room, "You were so brave tonight." Danny kissed the back of Linda's neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist walking them toward the bed."Me? You were the one that kept everyone alive and safe in there." Linda sighed in content."That's the job. Your job doesn't involve guns. Unless they are Sam's toys." Danny grinned."Your job usually doesn't involve me in danger." Linda felt her husband slid her shirt over her head."I love you." He whispered as he traced the tattoo on her back. Danny casually stripped the two of them making love to his wife slowly and sweetly until they both fell asleep tangled up together. Danny's last thought before closing his eyes was how no matter what, with Linda beside him anything was possible. That their love would overcome anything they could possibly imagine and more. Danny pulled his wife close in his sleep knowing that even during his hardest times she'd never give up on him. He might not be the invincible hero he thought he was but he'd always be a hero in her eyes. And that's all that mattered to Danny. |
11168829 | Souls | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Taryon Darrington, Percival \"Percy\" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, Vex'ahlia (Critical Role)",
"Fandom": "Critical Role (Web Series)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Creatrix",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-11T00:00:00",
"words": "1,339",
"Additional Tags": "Unrequited Love, Angst, My headcannon is Perc'ahlia is married, Poor Tary deserves love, Haven't written in a while, might be a bit rough, Doty is as amusing as always, My First Work in This Fandom",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Taryon Darrington/Percival \"Percy\" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, Percival \"Percy\" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": "F/M, M/M",
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
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} | “Vex, I want to tell him.”“We should both tell him.”“I know, but I need a few minutes with him.”She paused, reading his face like a tome. “Of course.”Percy sighed in relief. “I love you.”“I love you.”The pair walked to Tary’s room, waiting in front of the door. Vex was too distracted, fixing her perfect braid, while Percy tried to hear through the thick wooden door. He could make out Tary’s light footsteps and shuffling armour. Surprisingly there were no sounds coming from Doty, which meant Tary hadn’t given him a command. “I’m really going to miss this place.” His muffled voice was sad but there was a hint of excitement. It seemed he missed home more then they suspected.“Tary.” Doty replied as always.Vex nudged his side. “Are you going in or shall I?” She perked a dark eyebrow insistently.Percy nodded slowly, then knocked the door. Three short raps against the polished dark wood. “Come in!” Tary called from the inside. Percy turned the golden doorknob gently, waiting for the click before opening the door. Inside, Tary was hulking a stack of perfectly folded clothes into his Bag of Holding. “Hello you two! I thought you were going to see me off with the others?”“Tary, of course we’d come before to say our goodbyes.” Vex huffed, circling her arms around the ostentatious man before them. Tary smiled and wrapped his arms around her skinny shoulders. “You know we love you. And I’ve lived with you by my side for an entire year- you mean more to us then you think.” Her braid be damned she hugged him tighter.Despite the depressing goodbye, Tary smiled widely. “Oh Little Elf Girl, not a day will go by without thinking about our adventures. I’m going to miss you a lot.” Vex nodded fiercely into his shoulder. “Don’t cry on me Vex. I just washed this tunic.”“Dear, maybe give Tary some space.” Percy recommended soothingly, tugging her away. “We also have something to tell you before you leave.” Tary’s eyes brightened, excited for this exclusive news. “During the year you stayed with us, we went to Keeper Yennen in secret and…”“We got married!” Vex exclaimed with unshed tears in her eyes.There was a beat of silence, where the air stood frozen –before Tary rushed up and gathered his friends into his armoured arms. “My gods that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you both!” Tary gushed, pulling away from them, studying their faces. “You aren't pulling my leg are you?”“’Course not darling! We didn’t want to make a huge issue, and Vax was off with Keyleth so we decided to do it quietly. Honestly I’m surprised you didn’t suspect sooner, all the servants have been calling me Lady de Rolo for the past couple months.” She smiled widely –utterly ecstatic that her best friend had received the news well. Percy grimaced, feeling heartily conflicted. On one hand, he was glad Tary had accepted them wholly.On the other, he didn’t want to pain him. Percy had been there when Tary confronted his father. He’d seen how much effort, strength and confidence it took to admit to his father that Percy was the kind of man he’d want to wed one day. Perhaps Tary knew that they’d never be able to move their relationship in a different direction, but it still upset Percy that there was an off chance that Tary could become hurt. He’d come to truly love the flamboyant human.“This is incredible. I mean I certainly didn’t expect you to have such a… silent wedding. I meant, you’re a de Rolo, wouldn’t that cause for a major celebration?” Tary pondered, stroking his golden beard.Percy had wondered too, but Vex had insisted the wedding be almost non-existent and never admitted the reason. “Well, truthfully is was because of Scanlan.”“Oh.”Her eyes widened as she realised what she might have sounded like. “I don’t mean I didn’t want you here! I just… I didn’t want to get married without him there. And I was so mad, and he was gone for so long… So I decided there was no use in waiting.” Percy watched as she gave him a teary side glance. “And honestly, I think it was pretty perfect. I wore the dress I bought in Vasselheim and he wore his Riflemen Captain regalia. It was pretty impressive.”Vex stopped talking when she noticed Tary’s eyes dimmed. The sparkle from before completely vanished. “Tary?” Percy leant forward, placing a hand on his arm. Tary twitched and pulled his arm away from Percy’s worried fingers. “Hey are you okay?” Blue eyes darted up at the question.“I’m fine! Everything is perfect. You know… if you ever decide to renew your vows, invite me. I’d love to come back for something like that.” Tary quickly said with a fake smile smeared across his face.It was obvious he was upset. “Hey Vex, give us a moment, please?” Percy requested. Vex knew her signal to leave. She nodded and gave both the boys a kiss on the cheek before silently leaving the room like rogue she is. There, in Tary’s almost empty bedroom sat two souls. One burning with sadness, the other simmering with longing. “Tary?”“You don’t need to pity me.” He said quietly, although it sounded quite loud in the silent room.“I do not pity you. I’m disappointed in myself.” Percy replied. They waited, the only sound coming from the birds chirping outside the half open window. No wonder the room was slightly cool.Tary slumped against one of the posts of his bed, like the energy he had before they spoke was drained entirely. “I will miss you the most Percival.” He whispered, not speaking directly to his intended target. As if he were dictating his thoughts for Doty to write down.“I will miss you greatly, science bro.” There wasn’t a laugh that normally accompanied the title. “You’re breaking my heart Tary. Tell me what I can do to fix this.” He begged. Watching Tary’s eyes cast lower and lower to the ground only filled his lungs with grief.“There isn’t anything you can do Percy. You are in love with Vex. She is an amazing woman. I will forever wonder what could have been, and I will move on.” Tary explained. It was cold, but Percy knew it was the truth. There was nothing the pair could do.“Some nights, I think that we’ve been set on a path that no matter what choice we make were always predisposed. And because I’m me –I hated that. So I tried to fight my life. But in the end, it seemed that my hardships bought me to Vox Machina. And they are an exquisite group of people. And so are you. So perhaps, accept that we came into your life so you can fight your path, and now you’re going to find something so much better.” Percy always found it hard to hand off sagely advice, but Tary seemed to take in the lecture with an open mind.“You are a wordsmith.” Percy could see a smirk though his head was tilted down. “Mama told me to be careful of men with silver tongues.” Finally he looked up, and his face was eerily calm. “Thank you.”“For what? Unrequited love? That’s hardly something to thank me for.”“No, thank you for not letting me marry that woman. Thank you for being by my side when I thought I had nothing left.” He glanced over at Doty, who hadn’t moved a gear. “You were my rock through a very rough time in my life.” “I do my best.” Percy took 2 steps forward, crowding Tary against the bed post. “I don’t want you to leave.” “I have to.” Tary whispered. “Stop being so spoilt Percival de Rolo the Third.” There they stood, two hearts beating out of tune.“Come back soon?”“Of course.”Tary’s lips tasted of strawberries. |
11115969 | My way | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Tendou Satori, Sugawara Koushi, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Semi Eita, Shirabu Kenjirou",
"Fandom": "Haikyuu!!",
"Language": "Español",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by MissHope",
"chapters": "1/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-07T00:00:00",
"words": "4,909",
"Additional Tags": "tensuga, ushiten",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sugawara Koushi/Tendou Satori",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
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"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
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} | ¿Asimilan la importancia que tiene el orden secuencial de ingredientes con el que se compone un sandwich americano?Porque no puedo poner el jamón sin antes untar la mayonesa, o que el tomate no va antes que la lechuga. Tiene una cronología que se repite hasta crear dos capas. Algo así como las membranas celulares con sus fosfolípidos y oligosacáridos.La naturaleza innata de un buen sándwich subyace del cómo lo construyas, ya que si lo haces todo alrevesado perderá la estética y esencia del mismo aunque el mísero sabor sea el de siempre. Algo así como que el orden no altera el producto pero a más de ser una suma es un gran dolor de trasero cuando tienes que atender a clientes rompebolas en un sábado por la mañana.—Joven, así no era mi orden—Me suda la polla si así no era su orden pedazo de escoria, ojalá se le tapen las arterias con tanta grasa que se met...—¡Joven!—Oh, mis disculpas. ¿Puedo darle otro si usted desea?—Bien, pero que sea rápido.—En seguida señor.¿A quién en su puñetera vida le importaría que su jamón fuera puesto después de una maldita tocineta? ¿A quién? Pues a los pobres diablos que se acercan a llenar su alma y cuerpo con colesterol todos los días a este lugar.Hay algo en la vida llamado "éxito", es un concepto completamente subjetivo que es creado a base de tu propia percepción de lo bueno en la vida. No todos entienden el mismo significado de la palabra, porque para unos el éxito significa irse de juergas todos los fin de semanas con el dinero de tu súper trabajo que todos admiran y vivir en un pedazo de casona con tres autos y una mujer salida de una sala quirúrgica, para otros es el altruismo, el pacifismo, vivir sin nada y a la vez todo siendo un muy terrible intento de Buda contemporáneo, y para mi es pasarme en mi lindo cuchitril en las mañanas mientras me rasco el trasero pensando qué color de baldosas le caería mejor a mi piso.No tengo nada en contra de la idea de éxito de los demás. Por mi podrías considerar un éxito ir de la vida confabulando despectivamente hacia tu prójimo y yo no te diré ni pío del asunto. No es mi problema, no es mi lío.Tan solo no me trates de decir que fulanito-de-tal lleva su vida más "feliz" porque gana equis cantidad de dinero en su trabajo y tiene una familia con la que, uf, flipas.Y no es que ponga a la defensiva tratando de amurallar el hecho de que detesto estar contribuyendo con la obesidad mundial, créanme, tengo mis motivos. No trabajo aquí solo porque se me da de hobbie tratar de ser alguien en la vida o porque la cantidad de dinero en mis bolsillos no es suficiente para comer un almuerzo decente. Tendría que culpar a mi naturaleza humana por ser tan débil y a mi voluntad de drogadicto que expende cocaína.—Aquí está señor ¿Algo más con su compra?—No, para la próxima vez sea más cuidadoso ¿Entiende?—Claro que entiendo, entiendo que si no te esfumas de mi vista se sacaré los ojos con pajillas y te estrangularé con la caja registrado...—¿Joven?—Claro, entiendo. Gracias por su compra.Viviendo como la sociedad me lo propone, ganando un sueldo básico y regresando a las 7 pm a mi casa hecho un saco de papas. La vida de ensueño.Por todos los cielos, ¡Soy joven! Tengo un largo camino por delante, la cumbre de la felicidad me espera a la vuelta de esquina. ¡Soy un volcán rugiendo! Estoy rumbo en la escalinata de la prosperidad. ¡De ser el biólogo marino más famoso de los siete mares!Y antes de surcar el índico tengo que servir sodas en vasos de plástico.Como dije, esta es una realidad que elegí. Porque bien pudiera estar en casa acostado vegetando como plantón y estoy aquí acortando lo poco que me queda de vida por una ilusa fantasía que llevo desde que la juventud se asomara en la ventada de mis sueños. Iluso, tonto, idiota, eso y mucho más soy.Pero si no lo hago el remordimiento se sobrepoblaría y los consumidores primarios de mi pesadumbres se les da de irse de vacaciones cada tanto tiempo. Veamos como lo pongo textualmente sin que suene tan violento o que haga caer a tu vieja tía conservadora de la silla.Yo Tendou Satori, soy gay.Creo que en vez de salir de un closet o un armario, he salido de un cajón. Cuando me lamento sobre eso es casi tan proporcional al número de quejas que tengo de que me hayan diagnosticado miopía a mis 20 años y ahora esté llevando lentes como un mequetrefe de arriba para abajo porque me da cosa admitir que los lentes de contacto me dan miedo.El asunto de a qué equipo le voy es algo tan confuso como el cálculo integral—Válgame el infierno porque casi repruebo el semestre por eso—y a la vez algo tan fácil como pintar un dibujo sin salirse de las líneas.A excepción de que sufras parkinson. En ese caso sería ambos, alguien con parkinson que es muy malo en el cálculo integral.Okay, no tengo parkinson, sí soy terrible con las integrales y no estoy tan seguro de ser gay.Es una conclusión que saqué de manera superflua por tantos años de pesares gracias mi buen compañero de equipo y mejor amigo. El grande, el maravilloso, el asombroso, el descomunalmente atractivo—Esto me hace ver gay—Wakatoshi Ushijima. ¿Que lo estoy poniendo en un pedestal? Tal vez, y si estoy penando a propósito, elementalmente; No quita el hecho de que guardo algo como un "flechazo" hacia él y llevo ese sentimiento como enfermo que tiene que aceptar que está en fase terminal.Pero el mantener este amor impúdico hacia mi buen compañero no es el peor de los pecados que albergo, dudo que algo tan inmaculado como el amor y esas basuras sea digno de una penalidad—creo yo—que esté a la inversa de su verdadero propósito. Algo que sí está penado es el hecho de que mantengo esperanza ciega como un imbécil a faldas de Wakatoshi para que se dé cuenta de que aun ocupo espacio en el universo.No soy una persona pesimista, ni tampoco voy tirando motivación y positivismo como si de mis poros saliese brillantina. Estoy pendiendo del equilibrio aptitudinal, y es que no siempre le estoy tirando piedras a lo algo desafortunada que es mi vida—y eso lo digo para amagar—y no siempre estoy sonriéndole a todo como si de una familia estadounidense de los cincuenta se tratase. Simplemente que la vida va en picada a veces, otras sube y sube como si te hubieras fumado el mayor viaje de la galaxia.Estoy consciente de ello y por eso trato de engañarme a mí mismo diciendo que no soy un quejica llorón aunque a veces a la media noche cuando mi genialidad está susceptible hace que todo lo que diga sean embusterías . Qué digo, exploto, río y me gusta mirar en mi ventana e imaginarme el peor de los dramas y tener una excusa para sentirme melancólico.Quizás mis fantasías eran tan fuertes que decidieron irse con todo y realidad y por eso tengo que marcar tarjeta casi todos los días como empleado funcional. Pero de ahí llegar al cómo acabé organizando salsas por sus sabores es como desenredar luces navideñas mientras tu madre te grita. Tal vez yo soy el que lo hace un lío, tuve que hacer un consenso conmigo mismo para darme cuenta que mi verdadera pasión eran los hot-dogs —Si saben a lo que me refiero— y al decirles que no estoy 100% seguro es algo así como abrumador.El hecho es que sí, estoy enamorado de mi ex-compañero de equipo Wakatoshi. Ya, ese detalle lo saben. Al parecer la vida te da unos girones de los cuales no te salvas, y ya estaba muy predicho que la comunicación entre mi buen amigo y yo se iba a ver afectada por una interferencia. Como un huracán, y precisamente el huracán se llama "vida real".El se fue a su universidad en Tokio—becado, por supuesto—y se encuentra brillando al igual que cuando lo hacía rematando en el gimnasio de nuestra academia hace algunos años, o creo que más. Y era de esperarse, ¿saben? es que él es tan genial que parece inverosímil que hubiera pasado lo contrario a eso. Su destino siempre será el ser el blanco, el centro, la estrella y yo volado por completo admito que es así y porque si no el orden de la naturaleza o el del espacio-tiempo se alteraría.Yo por mi parte tomé la ligera decisión de zafarme de todo. Ya saben, dejarlo, evolucionar, desplegar mis alas hacia nuevas metas y horizontes.Me quedé en Miyagi estudiando, en la universidad local hay una buena facultad de estudios marinos. Me gusta el mar, los animales y el saber cómo funciona la naturaleza y por eso me dije "Ah, que me puede caer bien esa carrera".Y así fue, me agrada. Me encanta, y es raro que pese a que me desagrade muchas cosas en mi entorno lo que más ame sea lo que estudie, creo que eso es lo único bueno que he logrado en la vida. Por eso no tengo tanta paja de aventarme todo un horario nocturno para ir a mis clases.La cosa de cómo llegué a querer complicarme tanto la vida redondea en que yo estando enamorado soy un palurdo y difícilmente me doy cuenta cuando las cosas se me van de las manos y cuando no. Tendría que rebobinar un mes—como mucho—atrás, en donde atiendo mi teléfono a eso de las 10 pm mientras regresaba en un taxi a mi departamento.Bien les dije que mi comunicación con Wakatoshi era algo compleja, era de los que si le envías un mensaje te lo responde como tres días después. O si lo llamas te habla unos 3 o 4 minutos y ahí muere la conversación.También pasaba que nuestros horarios no coincidían en lo más mínimo y ya ven que estábamos destinados a olvidarnos y a todas esas porquerías deprimentes de las que hablan las canciones modernas. Todo eso lo creía yo hasta que contesté a la inesperada llamada entrante de Wakkun."En enero viajaremos para un campeonato fuera del país, dijeron que podemos llevar acompañantes" y fue con esa frase que mi sangre se heló y pensé "Eh, la vida ha sido bella después de todo".Y bueno, ya el resto es deducible. Me dio una pequeña cátedra en donde me decía en su idioma que me consideraba su amigo y yo feliz, embobado con mi móvil pegado al tímpano. Me dijo que era un tanto de yenes la cantidad pero que él podía costearlo, que en serio quería que fuera.Yo en la nebulosa no pensaba que la cantidad era ostentosa, solo pensaba en que después de mucho tiempo iba a lograr ver a Wakatoshi y eso a mí me traía como tonto.Ya luego de colgar, de llegar, de sacarme lo zapatos, de ducharme, de dormir con una sonrisa estúpida, de ir a mis clases y de tomar el camino al departamento de Eita—justo antes de tocar la puerta—me di cuenta de que todo era una locura y qué demonios, no podía permitir que quedara como el segundo en foco a lado de Wakatoshi.—¿Pero es que no lo comprendes? ¡Me está dejando como el bueno para nada! ¡Como si estuviera desesperado por respirar de su mismo oxígeno!—¿Y no lo estás?—respondía de soslayo Eita mientras se llevaba una de esas cervezas baratas hasta el fondo de la garganta.—Sí, bueno...¡No! Quiero decir, siempre él ha sido tan ¡Baawh! y yo tan yo, y eso me molesta porque sigue siendo igual incluso ahora.—Bien, ahora resulta que tienes un complejo de inferioridad hacia él—sus párpados se cerraban en media luna y yo quería golpearle porque parecía que no me tomaba en serio—Felicidades, ya estás perdido.—Eh ¿Ahora qué tratas de decir?—Digo que mientras no te quites ese problemón de que "ah, Wakatoshi es tan genial y yo soy un simple plebeyo provinciano"—agudizaba su voz y yo me preparaba para caerle a palos—No lograrás que ese sentimiento tuyo se transforme en algo bueno que no sea nocivo para ti.—¿Y cuando he dicho que esto es bueno para mí? ¡Estoy enamorado de un hombre! Precisamente el hombre más problemático en ese punto. —O te aprendes a querer o te vuelves miserable. Una de dos.—¿Pero ahora de qué vas? ¡Yo me amo! ¡Creo que soy la persona más increíble en este hemisferio! Y en serio no lo digo de coña.—Ah...pero ¿Wakatoshi?—Se levantaba para dirigirse la cocina, llevaba puestos unos pijamas algo horrendos que me dificultaba mantener la seriedad—Quiero decir, piensas en él y de inmediato pareces sacado de una novela del Showa.—¡Eso no es verdad!—¿Ah no? A ver "Señor autoestima decente" ¿Por qué tanto problema con que te costeé el viaje? Te invita, el lo paga, deberías estar agradeciéndole al cielo y al infierno por el favor que te hicieron.—Ese no es el asunto, la cosa es que...—¿Qué?—Se acercó hasta el sillón puff de su sala, amo ese sillón ya después introduzco por qué tanto encanto con ese vejestorio que no es más que nylon decolorado.—¡Es que quiero demostrarle que puedo hacer algo sin que el mueva un dedo! —Por un demonio ¡El sabe que tu eres lo suficientemente capaz de hacer de todo! Solo que el único que al parecer no lo comprende es tú. ¿Te cuesta tanto dejarte de subestimar?—¡Rayos, que no me subestimo!—¿Entonces?—Solo que...—mis dedos pequeños de los pies tocaban la equina de la alfombra y me había dado cuenta de que ya necesitaba otro par de calcetines—es tan...loco, jamás me esperé esto.—Nadie con una leve idea de cómo piensa Ushijima lo esperaría, es normal que te haya dejado con el corazón en la mano todo este embrollo. —Vamos al hecho de que ¡Mierda, nada de esto tiene sentido! El, yo, un posible futuro utópico juntos, todo es tan estúpido.—¿Por qué?—¡Exacto! ¿Por qué? ¿Por qué de tanto imaginármelo tomándome de las manos mientras caminamos en una mañana de diciembre viene la realidad y me lo quiere dejar en bandeja de plata? Dime ¿Por qué?—Tal vez ya sea hora de que todo salga de aquí—Condujo su dedo índice mi sien mientras me miraba con una sonrisa casi invisible, no sé qué aspecto haya querido dar pero se veía horrendo—y dejes de pensar tanto en el "por qué", o bueno, eso haría el Tendou Satori que solía conocer.—¿Qué solías conocer? ¿Tratas de decirme que cambié?—Bueno, el cambiar es un fenómeno colectivo que nos ataca a todos. Estamos a expensas de la evolución así que no te lo tomes a mal.—¿Entonces cómo he "evolucionado"? Como dices tú.—No lo digo yo, estudias biología. Tú más que nadie debería saberlo—Se sentó en mesón de su cocina, el departamento de Eita era tan pequeño que el cambio de escenarios parece increíble—Digamos que te has hecho prudente.—¿Prudente?—Sí, exacto. Y pienso que es normal, se supone que eres un adulto ¿no? es parte de la vida.—¡Oh por favor, Eita!¡Estamos hablando de mi no de ti!—¿De mi? ¿Qué he tenido de malo a lo largo de estos años?—Su expresión era un mapa, una mezcla de incredulidad e indignación.—"Tendou no hagas eso" "Tendou eso es inapropiado" ¡Tú no eres quién para cuestionarme! —Mira, si vas a exponer todas tus inseguridades tratando de atacar mi integridad te invito a que te retires por hoy y vayas a pensar con un poco más de cabeza para que puedas resolver esto con decencia y madurez ¿bien?—¡Bien!—Adiós. Tendría un millón de razones por las cuales podría poner un muñeco budú en la puerta de Eita y cantarle alguna maldición gitana para que el resto de sus días no pudiera encontrar el tono correcto de su tinte para el cabello, pero qué va, en ese instante sabía muy bien que tenía razón, que yo hacía mucho problema con todo. A mí que se me da muy bien eso de esquivar la realidad con una auto-mentira sería una proeza inimaginable el darle la razón de que posiblemente los años me estaban llegando y que era para bien, que mis acciones por fin estaban coordinando conforme a lo políticamente correcto en una sociedad.Pese a ello no esconde el hecho de que tenía un problema al frente mio, el cual sí, tal vez estaba haciendo mucho meollo del asunto pero ¡No iba a dejar que eso se quedara así!Había que ser sincero, una solución viable no la tenía en ese instante. Al llegar a casa tuve que caminar y caminar en círculos tratando de buscar una salida en donde ambos ganáramos. Bueno yo, a la final Wakatoshi ni tenía noción de lo que en mi mente pasaba. No fue sino hasta acostarme en medio de una pila de revistas de la Jump viejas que tenía por ahí que en mi cerebro se prendió una bombilla. Me sentí como el mismísimo Arquímedes gritando "Eureka" desde mis entrañas hasta mi faringe. Wakatoshi tenía una rara costumbre—por no decirle, extraña—de poner su atención en la sección de publicidad en las revistas que le prestaba para que las leyera con el objetivo de sacar algo de conversación con él. Así como una vía desesperada de entablar conservatorio con un tronco gigante que respira.Ciertamente no le veía la gracia ni causa que se centrara tanto en eso, era una de esas cosas que me dejaban intrigado de toda su persona. Y es que tendría que hacer una lista casi infinita de las mañas que difícilmente entenderías de él.Al parecer esa costumbre de Wakatoshi me dejó algo bueno, porque siempre hacía pequeños dobladillos en las páginas que tenían anuncios. Quizás para verlos en otra ocasión y no perderlas, quizás porque posiblemente al leer, de manera inconsciente lo hacía. Pero siempre las revistas se habrían en las mismas páginas que anteriormente había leído, puedo admitir que se me revolvía el estómago un poco. Pero era una acción en cadena porque hacía que mi diafragma y mi pecho doliera y pensaba "Ah, ha de ser que por esto lo llaman mal de amores"Como si tuviera una parte de él en estas páginas, como si algo de su imponente aura se hubiera quedado impregnada en medio de las esquinas de las hojas. Entonces dejé que me sugestionara eso a la hora de tomar un camino final para resolver todo.En mi cabeza pasaba que podría ser una señal de destino y esas bazofias anticuadas. Justo había un dobladillo en una sección de "se busca empleado" y todo tuvo sentido.Sé que no era la opción más asombrosa de todas, pero era la que parecía más confiable y que daría eficientes resultados.—Ah...qué demonios. Tendou, son las 3 AM.Y cómo no iba a hacer alardeo de que era toda una máquina para resolver conflictos, es que debía ser un talento oculto en mí que surgía de manera espontánea. —Sí, sí, sí como sea. ¡Lo tengo!—¿Qué cosa?—¡Ya sé cómo no quedar como un bueno para nada a costillas de Wakatoshi!—Mierda, ¿Para eso me despiertas? —¡Calla y escucha!—Uuhg, habla de una vez.—¡Conseguiré un empleo!—Ya...¿Y?—¿Qué no lo entiendes? Conseguiré un empleo y así costearé el viaje, quedo como alguien que se puede mover independientemente y mejorará la visión que él tiene sobre mí.—Wuuh, felicidades. Ahora adiós.—¡Espera!—¿Y ahora qué? —¿No lo vas a decir?—¿Decir qué? ¿Que eres un maldito irrespetuoso que no le tiene benevolencia al cansancio de otro?—¡Ah, vamos! ¡Admite que soy el más brillante ser humano en este universo!—Es demasiado tarde, ¿no podemos dejar tus delirios de grandeza para otro día?—¡Anda, no te cuesta nada!—Eres muy brillante, ahora adiós.Hay que tener en cuenta de que había abierto una puerta hacia un mundo sin retorno en donde me convertí en la persona menos inteligente del universo. O bueno sí, era la manera de solucionar mis disque problemas de una manera efectiva y responsable, pero no hay momento en el presente en donde quiera desistir por completo y apelar a la alternativa de que sería mejor que Wakatoshi me diera las mejores vacaciones de mi vida con todo pagado.O soy tonto, o modesto, o qué se yo. Solo sé que era opción que más me simpatizaba hasta el momento, y tener un empleo me parecía una idea un tanto excéntrica.Me explico, el tener empleo para mí era como no sé, turismo en una sociedad. Tengo que aceptar que soy un vago patentando, y todo se me ha dado masticado en la vida. Nunca se me hizo necesidad de trabajar y anexo el factor de que a mi madre tampoco le agradaba la idea de ver a su hijo por ahí con empleos a medio tiempo.Pasando los años fue algo de lo que se lamentó bastante porque había crecido como casi un inútil en el ámbito práctico de la vida cotidiana. Quiero decir, apenas hace dos años aprendí a cocinar, y ni si quiera es como si lo hiciera espléndidamente. A lo mucho puedo poner un arroz sin una llamada al departamento de bomberos de por medio, por eso he optado por la vía de escape alimenticio. Como mucho dos comidas al día, y eso para mí es un lujo. Ya sé que mis hábitos alimenticios están algo atrofiados, pero preferiría echarme a dormir en el suelo que poner unos fideos a hervir. Como resultado tengo a todos diciéndome constantemente de que me moriré de una gastritis aguda algún día.Yo de empleos casi no sabía mucho, por lo que decidí aventurarme por las calles a ver qué me encontraba por ahí. De alguna forma u otra lo iba a conseguir, después de todo parecía que cuando hacía las cosas a mi manera todo funcionaba.Ronda por mi cabeza todavía que probablemente es mejor no seguir una línea prolija de acciones en consiguiente de cómo se de vivir o funcionar en la vida. Todos tenemos vidas diferentes, ritmos desiguales y a nadie le calza el mismo zapato. Estoy convencido fielmente que mientras siga haciendo todo a mi manera y a mi tiempo todo saldrá de maravilla, sin tapujos ni forzosos protocolos, aun si mis métodos parezcan todos deficientes.Aun si tuviera que lanzarme a cada local de la ciudad en busca de un puesto bacante, aun si tuviese que soportar 20 rechazos por mi vacía hoja de vida—que así fue—lo haré a mi modo.Para cuando caía la noche yo ya estaba molido y mis malos hábitos alimenticios me jugaban terrible. Era como si mi estómago me insultara en su idioma digestivo.Un cartel enorme de neón con varios focos averiados, un estacionamiento con baches en el asfalto y alcantarillas oxidadas y uno de esos muñecos que funcionan con motores de aire fueron mi boleto dorado. Había entrado nada más para pedir una hamburguesa y salí con un uniforme en la mano y un legajo que afirmaba mi estancia como empleado en ese lugar."Fast Lunch" un nombre tan cutre no podía tener, en sí el lugar era un chiste y su nombre le hacía honor. Pero da igual, estaba cerca de mi universidad, daban buena pasta y yo ya tenía empleo. Ni idea tenía yo que ese trabajo me iba a sacar 10 años de vida con solo un mes trabajando. Cuando menos lo supe ya me había memorizado casi todo lo que había en el menú junto a sus precios. Ya sabía las mañas que tenía la caja registradora para abrirla porque al parecer al jefe le daba espanto comprar otra, había de ser que su segundo nombre era "maldito tacaño".Si me pongo a enumerar las cosas malas que me está dejando esto es que el uniforme me hace ver como un pelmazo. El amarillo chillón junto el naranja de los costados de la camiseta me deja con cierta molestia, y ni hablar de la estúpida gorra. Cubría toda mi cabeza y junto a mis lentes me hacía parecer un estúpido.Tengo un compañero de trabajo con el cual cambio turnos que me dice que hace juego con mi cabello, y luego yo le pregunto que si quiere saber si mis nudillos harían juego con su mandíbula.Sé que me estoy quejando demasiado, no debería sabiendo que esto me salvó el pellejo. Pese a eso es inevitable pensar en lo mucho que me gustaría dejar este lugar.Por lo general los clientes varían, están los que ni si quieras pillas en la vistas, esos que pasan desapercibidos. Están los que te hacen sacar el diablo y a todo el linaje de belcebú en un solo segundo, y están los frecuentes.Así como memoricé todo acerca de la comida, memoricé a la gente que iba y venía. Algo así como un escáner que simplemente trataba de discrepar entre actos humanos cuando solo quieren venir a comer y punto.Estaba ese estudiante de preparatoria que venía con su novia, bueno, con sus novias. Las primeras veces lo vi normal, ya como por la quinta chica supe que alguien no estaba siendo serio. Cabía la posibilidad de que fueran sus amigas pero qué va, tú no le compras el combo caro a solo una amiga. También frecuentaba la señora Fukasawa, una anciana de no menos de 60 años que al parecer vivía cerca. Suelo cruzar algunas palabras con ella porque cabe el chance de que es muy buen rollo y siempre me anda lanzando lecciones de vida con la justificación de que los años no pasan en vano. A veces quisiera objetar, decirle que no todo es igual para todos, pero dejo que siga porque me gustaría que cuando llegara a esa edad todo el mundo me siguiera la corriente en mis ideas aun por más chaladas que estén.El hombre con traje llamativo que siempre llega en las tardes es mi más grande enigma, bueno, nuestro. Con mi compañero hemos levantado una apuesta de las posibles cosas a las que se pueda dedicar alguien con esas fachas. O era mafioso, o un anfitrión en algún club de por ahí. Aunque no lo creo porque no es tan bien parecido, sigo pensando que tal vez es un inspector de salubridad que viene en cubierto a ver si la plaga de ratas aquí está amena.Pero como ven, nada nuevo, casi nada fuera de lo usual. Lo mismo todos los días. Pareciera que con tan solo decir esta frase haría que todo mi destino cambiase drásticamente esperando a que mi vida de un vuelco. Ya saben, como esas películas en donde el prota decreta algo y místicamente sucede lo contrario.—Buenas tardes, ¿qué le podemos servir?—Ah, buenas. ¿Con qué viene el combo número 3?—Con alitas picantes, papas y una porción de...Tuve que parar en seco porque en mi cerebro parecía gritarme un dejabú. No sabía por qué o cómo, pero tuve una sensación extraña.—¿Porción de?—Perdón, porción de ensalada césar.—Bien, pediré el combo 3.—¿Para llevar o para comer aquí?—Mmmh...—Parecía dudar, como si el quedarse comiendo o llevarse la comida significase la mayor hazaña de su vida—creo que la pediré para comer aquí.—Su pedido estará en seguida, señor.Un poco más de 1.70 metros, llevaba una camiseta de The Clash con un suéter de lana puesto. Casi puedo apostar que tiene tan mal sentido de la moda que Eita. Su cabello tiraba a grisáceo y tenía un lunar que si no estuviera encantado con Wakatoshi, me encantaría con lo peculiar de su rostro. Definitivamente, la camiseta no le iba.Nada fuera de lo común, pero algo me decía que sí había algo fuera de lo común. —Aquí está su orden. Serían 710 yenes.—Gracias.Sí, algo muy extraño.—Cambio de turno, ya puedes salirte de estos gloriosos aposentos—mi compañero me tendía mi boleta de marca.—Lástima, con lo que me quiero quedar.—¿Vas a la tocada del próximo sábado? Los peores covers gratis, pero el whisky del bar es excelente.—Lo pensaré, tengo un examen importante. Pero pensándolo bien iré, hace tiempo no tranco una buena cruda.—Son el pan de cada día, esta juventud.Ahora ya tenía planes para el sábado, mi productividad no acababa nunca. Mientras me iba estaba viendo cómo el tipo raro de la camiseta de The Clash tomaba un taxi. Todo era tan extraño, ni idea de quién era pero algo se me hacía fuera de lo usual.Será que iba mañana, será que no. Quién sabe, lo único que sabría por el momento es que ya solo quiero llegar a mi casa y lanzarme al piso a dormir. Pasaba un día más y se restaba un día menos. Falta mucho todavía. Era julio, estaba haciendo calor ¿Por qué rayos ese sujeto llevaba un suéter de lana? |
11198085 | A Piece of You | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Kara Danvers, Mon-El (Supergirl TV 2015), Alex Danvers, Original Character",
"Fandom": "Supergirl (TV 2015)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by coffeecatsme",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-14T00:00:00",
"words": "5,834",
"Additional Tags": "post 2x22, Pregnancy, Karamel child, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending",
"Relationship": "Kara Danvers/Mon-El",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | Kara’s muscles felt frozen as she stared at the little white stick in her hand. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, in the middle of her bathroom, just…just looking at it. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. She barely even felt it as a strand of her hair escaped her messy bun and fell over her eyes. All she seemed to be able to focus on was the white stick and what was on it, willing it to change, willing for the lines to disappear, willing for it to never have happened. Yet no matter how many times she blinked, no matter how long she stared at it, it still stayed there, taunting her, making her feel breathless, like two hands were wrapped around her neck and squeezing it.It couldn’t be true. That was what she was repeating to herself, over and over again. It can’t be true. Yet it was, it was true, and…And Kara didn’t know what to do about it.Tears filled her eyes as she shut them and ducked her chin, yet she could feel one of them slipping down her cheek. She didn’t bother to wipe it away. She wanted to deny what was in front of her, badly, yet the worst part was… It made sense. It explained everything that had been going on the last few weeks too perfectly for her to deny it. The extreme mood swings, the sickness and throwing up, the incredible amounts of food she was consuming, more than she ever ate… They all fit together like a puzzle, and now, with the last piece put in place… She finally understood what all the seemingly unrelated pieces meant.She wished she hadn’t.Opening her eyes she looked at the stick again, the pregnancy test, and even through the blur of her tears she could see them: Two lines in the middle, side by side, indicating that…that she was pregnant. That she was having a baby.It all seemed like a one big joke, like the universe was playing with her. She almost laughed at the irony of it—almost. Because until now she wasn’t even sure she could get pregnant on earth, or that human pregnancy tests could work on her. And she’d wanted it. She’d wanted to have a baby, to build a family with someone so, so desperately. Even knowing—well, thinking—that it was impossible, she’d wanted it.How ironic it was that she’d finally learnt getting pregnant wasn’t impossible for her after the father of her baby, the love of her life, was gone. How ironic it was that the person that gave her what she wanted was floating away in space now, far, far away from her, robbing her off of the family she’d wanted yet again.Kara only barely heard it when the pregnancy test snapped in half in her hands. She felt like a knot was lodged in her throat as she looked down at her flat belly. It did look flat, which wasn’t surprising because she knew it couldn’t be more five or six weeks since she’d gotten pregnant. According to her timeline she’d only missed one of her periods, and it was supposed to happen only a week ago. Her fingers were trembling badly as she lifted her hand and slowly, gently, put it on her stomach. She didn’t know what exactly she expected to feel other than her steel-hard skin and the cloth of her PJs; she’d seen enough TV shows to know the baby didn’t start doing anything at least until a couple of months into the pregnancy. Yet… Yet even knowing a baby was in there, the child of her and…and him… It was enough to have sobs line her throat. She barely managed to suppress one of them by covering her lips with her hand. Yet no matter how hard she pressed it over her mouth, how hard she tried to keep herself from falling apart it didn’t work. Her hand, the hand that was trying to support her weight and keep her standing by holding onto the bathroom counter, slipped from it, and Kara only had one second to register that her knees was buckling before they hit the floor.She didn’t know, between her sobs and tears, how she ended up with her phone in her hand—how she managed to take it from next to the sink where she put it. She didn’t know how she managed to open her contacts since she could barely see anything more than an inch away from her eyes, especially with one hand pressed over her mouth to keep down her sobs. Not that it worked other than burning her throat and wetting her hand, but it was better than nothing. It was at least some—some semblance of control, some attempt to keep her pieces from shattering and scattering around, a weak glue to keep herself from breaking completely. And she especially had no idea how she managed to spot Alex’s name among all others and called her, yet somehow she ended up with the phone tightly pressed against her ear as she wrapped her empty arm around her knees and pulled them close. She rested her forehead against them, trying to take deep breaths—trying to take in any kind of a breath—yet it wasn’t working. Air only get hitched in her throat, interrupting her sobs with hiccups.“Agent Danvers.” Alex’s voice rang in Kara’s ear merely seconds after she called him. Kara tried to stop her sobs by pressing her lips together, not wanting to make her sister feel even worse than she already did for not being able to help the Kryptonian, yet it didn’t work. She bit the inside of her cheek as Alex continued, her voice tinted with worry. “Kara? Is that you?”“Alex,” Kara managed to whisper between her sobs. She could hear that Alex kept talking, presumably asking her what was wrong and where she was, yet all she could hear was muffled sounds because of her sobs. Her eyes fixated on the broken pregnancy test on the floor, with two lines still visible. She pressed her lips together tightly.“Alex,” she said again, cutting her sister’s words. Her eyes shut close painfully as she bowed her head, giving up on trying to fight the sobs and instead letting them shake her whole body.“I’m pregnant.”The stars shone bright from where Kara was lying down on the grass, away from all the lights and sounds of National City. She could still hear the cars, the honks, even sometimes the laughter and talking of humans thanks to her superhearing, yet with her being this far away from the city it was easier to shut them down and instead focus on the sky. She watched the stars twinkle, as if winking at her, along with the moon that shone in a crescent shape. It looked beautiful, too beautiful to have caused her so much pain.She didn’t clearly remember what had happened after she learned she was pregnant and called Alex. She remembered her sister coming to her home and kicking the door open, she remembered Alex rushing into the bathroom and kneeling in front of her, she remembered her pulling the Kryptonian close and embracing her into a tight hug—for a human at least. She’d assumed it must be tight because, even though she barely felt it, she could feel the strain of Alex’s muscles as they stretched over her shoulders.It took everything in her not to hug Alex back with everything that she had. She’d wanted to, she’d wanted to badly, yet a part of her—a logical part that somehow managed to survive the shock of pregnancy and weight of sobs—kept her from doing it. And it hurt not to be able to do that, in a way Kara never thought it could. She had no idea how much she’d gotten used to his hugs—how much she’d gotten used to hugging him. Because she didn’t have to hold back with him. She could hug him as tightly as she wanted to, she would rest her head on his chest and just let go, not worrying about whether she’d hurt him or not. She had no idea how comforting it felt to be able to do that, how good it would feel not having to hold back every single second of every day and have someone, at least one person, she could totally be herself with.And she’d lost that. Just like that she’d lost it, without having any time to prepare for it. She doubted she’d ever be ready for it, but that didn’t change the fact that all of it happened so fast. One second he was next to her, alive and well, and then the next he was in the pod, leaving earth forever. Forever. There was no going back from it. He couldn’t come to earth, not when the atmosphere was still poisoned with lead, not when it would not go away. According to Winn’s calculations it would take at least centuries for all that lead to be cleared, and by that time… By that time she’d already be dead. Which meant…Which meant there was no way she could see him again. Ever. No matter… No matter how many years—or decades—passed he wouldn’t come back, he couldn’t come back, and it…it hurt. It hurt so much sometimes that she couldn’t breathe.Learning about the pregnancy was one of those times.After Alex had managed to calm her down enough that she could stand and walk, she’d taken Kara from the bathroom to her living room, sitting her down on the couch and wrapping a blanket around her shoulder. Tears were still sliding down her cheeks, but at least she wasn’t sobbing anymore. Alex tried talking to her, tried comforting her by rubbing her back, yet all Kara remembered was clutching a pillow—Mon-El’s pillow, she vaguely recalled—and staring at the table in front of her.“He won’t see him,” she’d told her sister, her vision blurry because of tears. “He won’t see his child. He won’t know… He won’t know he has a child.” She’d pressed the pillow on her chest, as if somehow holding it close would protect her from destructive thoughts. “My child won’t see his father. He won’t know his father. He won’t…” She couldn’t continue as she collapsed into sobs again, burying her face to Alex’s shoulders. She hadn’t even realized that she’d called her child a “he” even though there was no way she could know his or her gender. Yet all she could see in front of her eyes was a little Mon-El, with his gray-blue eyes and dark brown, almost black hair. With his carefree smile and joyful face. With… With his brows and his nose and his cheekbones, with his laugh and voice. All she could see was him in that child, and it hurt, it hurt because he’d never get to see him, he’d never get to know what he’d had—what he could’ve had if it wasn’t for Rhea. A family. A happy family.Kara tried to get rid of all those thoughts as she blinked the tears away that once again filled her eyes, and returned to the present. She spotted a bright star on the sky, almost blue, and a smile pulled her lips. It was sad, it was small, yet it was better than nothing. Her hand found its way to her belly.“Hey, Mon-El,” she whispered to the sky, despite knowing that there was no way he could hear her. Yet talking to him…looking at the sky and imagining he was out there somewhere…it was much, much better than the alternative: Accepting that he was completely out of her life.She had to clear her throat to get rid of the hoarseness of her voice before she continued. “I have a surprise for you,” she said, her eyes flickering around the numerous stars adorning the night sky. Her fingers absentmindedly drew a circle on her belly. “I’m… I’m pregnant.” A strained laugh escaped her lips at that as she felt a tear slide down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away before she continued. “Can you believe that? I… I never thought it would be possible, to—to have a child of my own, but…but it’s true. I’m pregnant.” She gulped as she looked up from her flat belly. “With… With your child. Our child.” Her vision blurred with unshed tears again. She quickly blinked them away and forced a smile.“I wish you could be here right now,” she whispered, afraid she’d cry all over again if she talked louder, “and you could…you could share my excitement. My…happiness. I know I don’t sound that happy, but I…I am.” She pushed away a strand of her hair that the wind blew over her eyes. “Because… Because at least now I have a piece of you with me. A… A little Mon-El.” A corner of her lips quirked up. “I know there’s no way for me to know its gender, not yet at least, but…but I can feel it. It’ll be a boy. And it’ll have your eyes and…and your hair, and your smile… A mini Mon-El. With me.” She gulped and forced a smile at that thought. She didn’t know whether it was for Mon-El or herself.“And I promise that I’ll take good care of him,” she said, protectively wrapping her arm around her belly. “He’ll grow up to be an amazing man, a…a hero. Just like you. And I’ll make sure that he knows you, he knows… He knows what you’ve done for me—for all of us. What you’ve sacrificed so that we could have a life here. I’ll make sure he knows how good a person you are, and how…how happy you’ve made his mother, how you’ve been…everything she could ask for in a boyfriend. A… A mate. I promise.” Her eyes searched the sky, looking for… She didn’t really know what she was looking for since there was nothing to see, yet she still imagined Mon-El being there, living on one of the planets—maybe the one he’d mentioned they could run away to. It… It sounded like a good place. A place that he’d want to live in.Kara had to gulp again to get rid of the knot in her throat. “I love you, Mon-El,” she whispered so softly that even she could barely hear it. “And I’ll always love you. I’ll never forget you. I promise.”
3 years later
Kara almost groaned when she felt someone pull the blanket what was wrapped around her shoulders. She desperately tried to hold onto it, snuggling into her pillow to get at least five minutes more of sleep, even though she knew it would be impossible. Mon-El could be very stubborn when he wanted something, and right now, it seemed like he wanted Kara to wake up. He was just like his father about that.“Mama,” she heard Mon-El say as a shadow fell over Kara’s eyes. “Waye up.” A tiny hand got ahold of Kara’s shoulders and shook her strongly enough to cause her eyes to flutter open. She almost groaned when she came face to face with Mon-El’s blue eyes looking down on her—and the almost victorious grin on his face. “Mama!” he screamed as he wrapped his arms around Kara’s shoulders and knocked her on her back. He snuggled his little body on Kara, burying his face on the spot between her neck and shoulder, as the Kryptonian wrapped her arms around her two-year-old son to keep him from falling down. A smile pulled her lips.“Good morning to you too, Mon,” she said as she ran her fingers through his raven black hair. Mon-El tightened his grip around her chest at that as he looked up, his eyes wide and pleading.“I’m hunry,” he told Kara, pursing his lips for double effect, knowing her mother would never be able to resist him if he used that trick. “Food?”“Hmm,” Kara only said as an answer, as if she was thinking about what he said, as she absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder. “I might consider it… If you tell me what we were supposed to say when asking something from someone else.” She lifted her brows at Mon-El. His eyes narrowed for a moment, as if he was thinking, before excitement filled his face.“Pleaye?” he said with a smile. Kara found herself chuckling as she nodded and sat up, bringing Mon-El with her. She bumped his nose gently with her finger, earning a laugh from him.“That’s my little guy.” With that she stood up from her bed, carrying Mon to the kitchen and setting him down on his chair. Winn had specifically prepared that for him, in the middle of every single job DEO threw his way and trying to locate and find a way to bring…him back, after it was established that Mon had super strength too and broke two of his previous chairs.Kara didn’t forget to put a little kiss on the little guy’s forehead before she turned to the kitchen counter. “So,” she chirped, opening the refrigerator to take out two eggs. “What would you want for breakfast today?” Even as she asked Mon, she knew what she would be making that day. She was reaching for the cupboard to take out flour and sugar as Mon answered.“Panyakes, panyakes, panyakes,” he sang out with a clap and a giggle, almost throwing down the pile of toys in front of him. The corner of Kara’s lips tipped up. Of course she knew he’d say that; pancakes were his favorite breakfast meal ever since he found out how much his father liked them. Just like every son he looked up to his father and wanted to be like him…even if he’d never seen him and only heard about him from the stories Kara and the others told him. Though, she couldn’t really blame Mon for liking him and wanted to learn more about him every single day; he saw him as a superhero, like those he’d seen on TV and like Kara was, and he absolutely adored superheroes. She still remembered the first day Mon saw his picture that was on Kara’s drawer, and asked who he was. It was right after he’d turned one.“That’s your father,” Kara had answered. She could see confusion filling Mon’s eyes. Maybe it was his alien DNA, yet he was more perceptive than many other children his age, and that time it was as if he’d been asking why he wasn’t with them if he was Mon’s father. “He was a hero,” Kara tried to explain, her voice shaking with tears that she tried to keep at bay. “And he sacrificed himself to give us this life. To make sure his friends and his home was okay. But he had to leave doing that.” She’d cleared her throat before turning to Mon. “He’d be right here with us if he could’ve stayed, and he would’ve loved you so much. He would’ve been very proud of you.”Kara surely hoped the last part of his words were true. That… That she’d managed to raise his child into someone he’d be proud of.“Pancakes it is then,” she told Mon as she slipped away from her thoughts and pulled a bowl in front of her. She was just getting ready to put the eggs in it and mix them with sugar when she heard her phone buzz. A message. Frowning she reached for it, glancing at Mon to make sure he was busy so that he didn’t complain when Kara stopped preparing his food. And surely so, he was playing with the Superman action figure in his hand, butting its head with his stuffed bunny.She glanced at the message to see that it was from Alex. Knowing Alex would never bother her this early in the day on a weekend—it was only 8:30 after all—she quickly opened it, worried that it might be an emergency.
Come to the DEO.
Bring Mon too.
NOW!!!
Her brows rose with the urgency in Alex’s words. She immediately turned to Mon, who’d stopped playing with the toys and was looking at her. “Panyakes?” he asked when he saw Kara put aside the materials.“We’ll make them later,” she promised him as she took him in his arms. “Right now, Aunt Alex needs us, okay? It won’t take long.” She could feel Mon staring at the kitchen as she carried him to their bedroom, yet he must’ve felt her worry too, so he obliged without much objection. He only pulled her hair to get his attention.“Then panyakes?” he asked, rocking a pair of sad puppy eyes, the eyes that looked so much like how his looked when he wanted something too. Kara laughed and nodded.“Yes. Then pancakes. I promise.” She quickly changed herself and Mon out of their pajamas and flew him out of the window, his face pressed on her shoulder.Kara landed on DEO’s terrace merely minutes after Alex’s message, Mon snuggled tightly in her embrace. He lifted his head when he felt the wind stop and looked up, the glint of light appearing in his eyes that he always had after flying. That was an ability he hadn’t developed yet, along with X-ray and heat vision and freeze breath. Honestly Kara was glad about that; the last thing she needed was her son shooting lasers all around the house or freezing everything. Yet he had his invincible skin, super strength, and slightly improved speed, even though it wasn’t close to neither Kara nor…his. Yet day by day he was getting better.Alex greeted the mother and son the moment they arrived at the building. Kara expected her to look worried or stressed, or at least in work-mode, but the only thing that was on Alex’s face was a huge grin and joy as she walked up to them.“Good, you’re here,” she gasped, flashing Mon a smile. “Hey, little guy.”“Aunny!” Mon almost screamed when he saw Alex and extended his arms to her. She took him from Kara with a laugh, wrapping one arm around his waist and messing his hair with her other hand.“I missed you too,” she whispered to him, as if giving him a big secret, and then tickled him to earn a laugh from him. Kara watched them with affection for a second, beaming at how much the two loved each other, before turning to Alex. She couldn’t help a crinkle from forming between her brows.“Alex, what’s the urgency?” she asked as they descended fro the stairs. “You told us to come here immediately, and I—“ Her voice trailed off suddenly as her ears picked up something. Something that they shouldn’t have. Something that couldn’t be true. She froze mid-stairs, her eyes turning to the room in front of her, her heart rate doubling almost immediately. It was impossible. What she heard… It was impossible. The unique but very familiar rhythm of a heart, beating steadily, healthily… Being on earth and using her superhearing for years she’d learn to recognize people from their footsteps, breathing patterns, heartbeats, and yet…yet there must be something wrong with her superhearing, because there was no way…There was no way he could be here. He was gone. He was in space. Yes, there was a time she’d hoped, months on end, that they’d find a way to bring him back, they’d find a cure to his lead poisoning and find his pod, and…and he’d be back. She’d have him back. She’d be able to fill the—the hole that was left in his heart the day he left, she’d be able to smile genuinely without needing to fake it, she’d be able to hug him, hold his hand, inhale his scent, and…and be with him. After months of pain she’d be able to be with him.She’d let that hope go once Mon was born. Not that she wanted to, but she had to—she had to focus on raising Mon and she couldn’t do that if she was waiting for someone that would never come back. So she’d put all her energy into Mon, into making sure he was content and happy and loved, and that he had everything he wanted. She’d tried not thinking about him if it wasn’t absolutely necessary and she moved on—well, tried to at least. Yet even Mon couldn’t fill the hole in her chest, not completely. There was still some emptiness inside her, some part of her still aching about the fact that she would never have him back.Because she’d never have him back. He couldn’t come on earth.There was no way.“Alex…” she whispered as she walked down the last couple of steps. Her sister must’ve realized what she’d heard—even though it was impossible—because her smile widened.“We’d found a cure, Kara,” Alex started explaining, tightening her grip around Mon’s waist. “And last week Winn managed to locate his pod and contacted him, telling him that…that he could come back. It just took him a bit of time.” Kara knew Alex had continued talking, explaining that they didn’t want to tell her and get her hopes up if it didn’t work, yet she stopped hearing. She stopped hearing anything but the ringing in her ears and…and his heartbeat. She focused on his heartbeat as her feet turned her direction to where it was coming from. She’d forgotten everything except that heartbeat, the sound that she’d once listened to every single day to remind herself that she wasn’t alone, that he was with him. And it was back—it was back.Her steps halted when the owner of that heartbeat stood up and started walking, and tears filled her eyes. It was his steps. His footsteps. She’d recognize his walking pattern anywhere. It was him, it was…It was Mon-El. Mon-El. He was here, he was in the DEO, and he was…He was back. Mon-El was back.She felt her body shaking all over as his name rang in her ears and circled in her mind over and over again. After not speaking it for three years, after trying to not think about it, it felt good—it felt too good that she was afraid it would all fall apart. She was afraid it was all a big lie, a joke, something to…to hurt her even more so than she already was hurting.Yet all of those thoughts disappeared from her head when she spotted someone—spotted him—walking out of the med bay. When she saw him, flesh and blood, in front of her. It wasn’t a photo, it wasn’t a video or…or even a hologram. It was him. It was him.Mon-El came to a stop in front of the med bay the moment his eyes met Kara’s. The Kryptonian couldn’t do anything other than look at him at first—truly look at him. His hair that he mostly kept so neat seemed messy, like he’d run his fingers through it several times, and longer than Kara remembered. There was a stubble on his cheeks and…and purple circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. She could also see that he’d built up some muscle; he stood a bit straighter and looked a bit more self-confident, yet he’d also given up some weight. But other than that… Other than that it was Mon-El. It was her Mon-El, her boyfriend, her love, her…mate. It was him.“Mon-El?” A smile spread on Mon-El’s face slowly when he heard her voice. His eyes searched Kara’s face for a brief second before he looked back at her eyes.“Hey,” he almost gasped, as if he couldn’t talk louder. Kara doubted she’d be able to hear him without her superhearing. “I’m back.”I’m back. He was back. Kara didn’t know whether it was hearing his deep, hoarse voice that got her to snap out of her stupor, or it was his words, yet she finally managed to feel her limbs once again. And in a matter of milliseconds she was rushing forward and jumping on Mon-El’s neck, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face to the crook of his neck. Mon-El laughed as he staggered back a step because of her super strength, and then his arms circled her waist, pulling her close, holding her close, almost as if he was afraid to let go. As if he thought that if he loosened his grip for one second she’d slip through his fingers once again and…and disappear.“I’ve missed you,” he whispered to Kara’s ear, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Gosh, Kara, you have no idea how much I missed you.” Kara’s tear-strained laugh sounded muffled before she pulled back, looking in his eyes. Those gray eyes that she missed so much, so deeply, shining with love and joy and happiness, with the promise of…home. She was finally home.“I think I might have some idea,” she tried to joke, her voice hoarse with unshed tears, as she took his face in his hands and stroked his hair. Leaning forward she rested her forehead against his, reminding herself that he was here, that he was with her, and now that she had him back she would never, ever let him go again. She’d make sure this time they had the forever they deserved. “I love you, Mon-El,” she said confidently, loving the way his name rolled off of her tongue. She’d even missed saying his name, if that was even possible.She heard Mon-El’s hearty chuckle as he pulled back, caressing her hair, reveling in its softness. Kara leaned her cheek on his palm.“I love you too,” he said, his eyes never leaving Kara’s as he said that, as if he was trying to make sure she knew the truth of those words. He opened his mouth to say something else, yet his words were interrupted with the small voice coming from behind them. Small, thin, and almost afraid.“Daddy?” Kara turned around with her—their—son’s voice, seeing Alex standing right behind them with Mon in her arms, a smile plastered on her face. Mon, on the other hand, was watching the scene in front of him, his eyes wide with surprise, as he stared at Mon-El. His father.Mon’s father was back.Kara’s heart stuttered in her chest, partly with fear, partly with excitement, before she turned back to Mon-El. The Daxamite was looking at the child in Alex’s arms, his eyes wide and his mouth dropped open, shock splashed all over her face. Kara found himself smiling at that as she pulled back slightly, enough to step out of Mon-El’s arms but still holding his hand, not wanting to let him go completely. He wasn’t the only that was afraid Kara would slip away from him; she was feeling the same way too.“Mon-El?” she whispered, pulling him close to Mon. “I want you to meet someone.” Mon-El obeyed, following her as they stood in front of Alex, not being able to do anything but stare at his son. Kara’s smile widened at that. “This is Jeremiah Mon-El Danvers, your…your son. Our son.” She squeezed his hand to encourage him—or because she needed strength—and watched his reaction. He couldn’t do anything at first--neither Mon-El nor Mon could do anything—at least until Mon reached forward with his hand and put it on Mon-El’s cheek, as if wanting to make sure he was realm and not…not some trick his mind was playing him. Mon-El’s eyes shut close briefly at the touch and his hand shot up, grabbing Mon’s, his fingers wrapping around his son’s wrist. His eyes fluttered open slowly.“My… My son?” he stuttered, looking at Kara. He seemed so speechless that Kara doubted he could say anything else. She nodded, biting her lip as she tried to explain.“I… I found out that I was pregnant a couple of weeks after you left.” That was all she could muster as Mon-El turned back to Mon. Kara could see tears in his eyes—tears in both of their eyes—as she watched Mon reach forward.“Daddy,” he whispered again, struggling in Alex’s eyes to reach him, his eyes pleading. Mon-El luckily understood what he wanted fast enough and grabbed Mon’s waist, pulling him in his arms. He looked so dumbstruck as he looked at the child in his arms, as if he couldn’t believe that he was his son, that Kara felt tears welling up in her eyes too. She’d imagined this moment way too many times in the last two years—Mon-El meeting his son. She’d thought it was impossible and it would stay as a distant dream, yet now, seeing it come true in the…in the best way possible… No one could blame her if a tear slipped down her cheek and a smile spread on her face.“Hey,” Mon-El finally whispered as he lifted his hand, his fingers shaking, and stroked Mon’s face so gently that Kara couldn’t believe it. There was a smile on his face too—a smile mixed with tears. “Hey, little guy.” He tightened his grip on Mon, as if he wanted to be as close to him as possible, as Mon’s arms went around his neck. He buried his face on Mon-El’s shoulder.“Miss daddy,” he muttered, making Mon-El chuckle tearfully as his hand went to Mon’s back, patting it. “Love daddy.” Mon-El turned to Kara before he answered, his cheeks wet with tears, and with his empty hand he reached for hers. Kara squeezed it to offer him her strength, and he mouthed a thank you, though Kara had no idea what that was for. She should be the one thanking him, thanking the universe for having him back.“I love you too, Mon,” Mon-El whispered to Mon’s hair, putting a small kiss there. His eyes then turned to Kara again. “I love both of you.” A huge smile spread on his face, a smile that was bright enough to light up the whole town.Kara was sure her smile mirrored his as she watched her family come together for the first time. As she finally got the family she always wanted, after years of hardship. And she couldn’t help thinking that having this now… It was worth everything she and Mon-El had to struggle through to reach here. |
11140719 | Second Chance | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Ruthie Biermann [archived by dsa_archivist]",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2000-02-19T00:00:00",
"words": "16,586",
"Additional Tags": "Drama, Humor, Hurt/Comfort",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "Due South Archive",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
} | Due South and its characters belong to Alliance.
This story is a sequel to My Brother's Keeper, so
you may want to read that one first. But it's not absolutely necessary,
as I've provided some background information for explanation.
I'd like to thank Linda H. for all her encouragement and very
helpful suggestions, including the idea to write this sequel, and for
coming up with the perfect title.
Feedback, positive or negative, welcomed
Second Chance
by Ruthie Biermann
Constable Benton Fraser walked into the squad room of the
27th precinct, his wolf, Diefenbaker, trotting just ahead
of him. As he entered, he glanced towards the corner of the room and
noticed his unofficial partner, Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski, aka
Ray Vecchio, sitting at his desk, looking pensive. Diefenbaker quickly
bounded towards Ray and nudged his knee, commanding some affection.
As Ray acquiesced to the wolf's demands, he looked up and watched with
a smile as Fraser sat in his usual chair across from him.
"Hey, Frase, where ya' been?" he asked as he scratched a very
grateful Diefenbaker behind his ears.
Fraser hesitated. He knew Ray would have something to say,
but he also knew he couldn't lie, or even bend the truth. Not only because
he never lied, but also because if he tried, Ray would easily catch him.
But that didn't mean he couldn't be ambiguous.
"Well, Ray, I had some Consular business to take care of,"
he responded, trying to sound official.
Ray gave his partner a sideways glance and winked. "Okay,
Frase, I see."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Fraser grew annoyed.
Despite his best effort, Ray knew exactly what he was talking about.
"You really want me to tell ya'?" Ray asked amused.
"Yes, of course, Ray. I'm actually very curious to learn
what you find so amusing about my Consular business."
"No, Fraser, it's not the 'Consular business', it's you trying
to play it up ta sound like it's major league official business."
"Well, it is official business," Fraser responded,
irritated.
Ray smiled. "Okay, Frase, whatever you say." He continued
to scratch Diefenbaker behind his ears.
"No, Ray, I'd like to hear what's on your mind. Obviously,
you feel you have knowledge of my Consular business that I haven't communicated
to you, and I'm frankly very curious to learn just what it is you think
you may know."
"Okay, Frase. Does this Consular business got anything to
do with pickin' up the Ice Queen's unmentionables at the laundry, or
buyin' her lunch at the deli or delivering some package or......."
"All right, Ray, I get your point," Fraser interrupted. "If
you must know, I was returning an item to the store Inspector Thatcher
had purchased, and as far as her unmentionables are concerned, I've never
had the opportunity to touch.....I mean, she's never sent me anywhere
that had anything even remotely to do with her unmentionables." Fraser's
face was slowly turning the color of his red serge.
Ray started to laugh. "That's too bad, Fraser."
"Ray, I'm sure Inspector Thatcher wouldn't appreciate hearing
you speak about her in that manner, not to mention the unflattering nickname
you insist on using when referring to her," Fraser chastised.
"You mean Ice Queen? It fits her perfectly, Fraser..... it's
a term of endearment," Ray defended himself.
"Well, Ray, how would you like it if she utilized a moniker
for you that was equally as unflattering?" Fraser asked, defending his
superior's honor.
"Moniker? Hey, that sounds kinda kinky, Frase."
"A moniker, Ray, a nickname," Fraser explained.
Ray paused. "Whaddya saying, Fraser, the Ice.....I mean,
Inspector Thatcher has a mon.....a monitor for me?"
"Moniker, Ray, and I didn't say that. I merely asked how
you would feel if you knew she utilized one."
Ray thought for a moment. "Well, I guess that would depend
on what it was." He stopped scratching Diefenbaker who quietly whined
in response, resigning himself to lying down at Ray's feet. Ray eyed
his partner, who was not forthcoming.
"Well, Fraser. Does she?"
"It wouldn't be chivalrous to tell you, Ray," Fraser chided.
"I'm not askin' ya' to throw yer serge over a puddle, Fraser.
I'm just asking ya' to tell me what the Ice....Inspector Thatcher calls
me," Ray responded exasperated.
"Well, Ray, if I told you, then I'd have to tell Inspector
Thatcher what you call her, and I don't believe you'd want me to do that."
Fraser was enjoying this.
"No, Fraser. It doesn't work like that. Ya' see, I'm yer
partner, yer supposed ta tell me everything. She's yer boss, yer not
supposed to tell her anything. Got it? Now, what does she call me?"
Ray demanded, becoming upset.
Fraser decided to let his partner off the hook.....sort of.
"Ray, I was only teasing you. Inspector Thatcher has the utmost regard
for you and only refers to you in the most respectful manner.....well,
most of the time," he qualified.
"Most of the time, Fraser? And what about the rest of the
time?" Ray leaned across his desk.
"Sorry, Ray. Chivalry."
"Fraser, I'm gonna pop you in the head!" Ray yelled.
Fraser sat back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. It
actually felt good getting Ray worked up like that. Just then the telephone
rang. Ray quickly picked it up.
"Vecchio.....yeah, that's right. No, I......" Ray stopped
talking. His demeanor immediately changed. His body became rigid, his
jaw clenched. As he held the receiver, he leaned his other elbow on
the desk and rested his head on his hands, rubbing his fingers across
his forehead. Fraser watched him, concerned. Every now and then Ray
would say something, "I don't think I could do that." Or, "I'm sorry,
no." But the person on the other end was persistent, and Fraser noticed
Ray becoming more tense as the mostly one sided conversation continued.
After about five minutes, Ray snapped, "Look, I need to call ya' back.
Just give me yer number and let me think about it." Ray wrote a person's
name and phone number on a pad on his desk. Fraser tried to read it
upside down, but before he could, Ray ripped the paper from the pad,
folded it and put it into his pocket. He did manage to see the title,
"Dr." before the person's name.
"Okay, yeah, I will. Thanks." Ray hung up the phone. He
kept his eyes down, obviously upset about the conversation. Fraser waited
a few moments and finally spoke.
"Ray, is something wrong?"
It was as if Fraser hadn't said anything. Ray continued to
cast his eyes towards his desk. He now had his head in both hands, rubbing
his temples with the heels of his palms, a pained expression on his face.
"Ray?"
No reaction.
"Ray!" Fraser raised his voice.
Ray's head jerked up and he glanced across his desk. Fraser
couldn't read the look in his eyes. Was it fear? He wasn't sure.
"Oh, Frase, sorry. I, uh, did you say something?"
"I asked if something was wrong." Fraser repeated.
"Uh, yeah, Frase. I need ta talk to you. Let's go get a
coffee."
Ray rose from his chair, the pained expression still on his
face. Fraser followed as Dief trotted behind the two men.
They had settled into their chairs, Fraser with tea, Ray,
his usual coffee. There was silence as Fraser waited for Ray to speak,
his eyes studying his coffee cup.
"Ray?"
"Yeah Frase, sorry." He raised his head and looked into Fraser's
eyes. Now he was sure, he saw fear in Ray's eyes. "That was Dr. John
Hayward from Stateville Correctional Center." He paused. "He was calling
about Steve."
Fraser's eyes grew wide. It had been about a year since Ray's
brother, Steve, had been sent to prison. That had been a very difficult
time for Ray, having been reunited with his brother after fifteen years
at the scene of an armed robbery, suddenly realizing Steve was one of
the fleeing suspects. Ray had tried to help his brother, he had tried
to protect him, and in his zeal to help him, he had lied to Fraser.
But Fraser had understood Ray's actions, and when Ray had asked his forgiveness,
there was no hesitation on Fraser's part. He knew how torn up Ray had
been over lying to him. The entire incident with Steve had actually
brought the two partners closer together. Ray had told Fraser that he
had been more of a brother to him than Steve ever had, and hearing that
from his partner meant everything to Fraser. Ray had tried to do the
right thing for his brother and as a result, Steve had deceived him,
lied to him, beaten him up and stole his money. With Fraser's assistance,
he had arrested Steve, who was subsequently sentenced to ten to fifteen
years in prison, with no opportunity for parole for the first five years.
He probably would've received a longer sentence, but with Steve's cooperation
the police had been able to locate his partner in crime, and managed
to recover $7500 of the $10,000 that had been stolen.
After that incident, Ray had written off his brother, acted
as if he didn't exist. He never mentioned his name or the episode again.
No one else but Fraser knew what had really happened. It was a secret
they shared. And because of that secret, Ray felt he could tell Fraser
about the phone call he had just received.
"Is Steve ill?" Fraser asked quietly.
"No, no, nothin' like that. Dr. Hayward's one of the prison
shrinks." Fraser nodded. Ray continued. "Um, Steve isn't doing so great.
He, uh, he wants to see me." Ray looked into Fraser's eyes, the fear
more apparent now.
"How do you feel about that?" Fraser suspected that Ray had
no desire to see his brother, but he knew it would help if they discussed
it.
Ray rubbed his hands together. "I.....I don't think I want
to, Fraser." He stared at Fraser, his eyes asking for empathy.
"Ray, that's perfectly understandable considering what he
did to you." He paused. "Did Dr. Hayward say why your brother wants
to see you?"
"Yeah." Ray sighed. "He said that Steve feels guilty 'bout
what he did ta me. He wants to apologize. Steve told him that he can't
live out his prison term with this guilt hangin' over his head. The
doctor's afraid he may try to kill himself unless I agree ta see him."
Ray knew this last bit of information would probably change Fraser's
opinion about him not wanting to see his brother. He again looked into
Fraser's eyes, seeking commiseration.
Fraser had never communicated his feelings about Steve to
Ray, but the truth was, he had come as close to hating this man for what
he did to Ray, as he had with his own father's killer. Normally, he
wouldn't have agreed that Ray cut all ties with his brother, but after
seeing the lack of remorse in this man, he felt it was the best thing
for Ray. Ray had said that he thought of Fraser as a brother, and he
felt the same way about Ray, and in that role, he felt very protective
of his partner.
It had been a slow process, but Ray finally seemed to recover
from the incident with Steve, and Fraser felt it best that Ray remain
distant from him. But now, he wasn't so certain. Perhaps Steve really
did feel remorse. After all, he had been undergoing psychological therapy
since he had first gone to prison, and after a year, it was plausible
that he had experienced some sort of emotional rehabilitation. If he
actually did want to apologize to Ray, and there was a chance that he
might end his life if he couldn't reconcile with his brother, he knew
Ray couldn't live with that knowledge. He surmised Ray would capitulate,
not only to help Steve, but perhaps for the opportunity to finally develop
a positive relationship with him. Fraser returned Ray's gaze, his heart
going out to his partner. He sighed deeply.
"Ray, do you believe he wants to apologize?"
"I don't know, Frase. The doctor says he does."
"Do you care?" Even though Ray had written off his brother,
Fraser felt he still cared about him. He also suspected that he still
feared him. Ray regarded Fraser with uncertainty.
"I don't know how I feel, Frase." He thought a moment. "If
he needs my help, then I guess I should help'im. But I don't know if
I can forgive him. Cuz right now I don't."
"Well, up until now you had no reason to."
Ray nodded slowly.
"Ray, if it's true that Steve wants to apologize and make
amends, do you desire a relationship with him?" Fraser didn't want to
influence Ray as to whether to forgive his brother or not, that was clearly
Ray's decision.
Ray crossed his arms on the table and laid his head down.
Even after everything Steve had done, he knew in his heart that he wanted
his brother in his life. He had been denying it for a long time. But
if Steve wanted to make amends, he knew he couldn't say no.....even if
he did still fear him. And the fact that the psychiatrist believed that
he might take his own life meant Steve was probably telling the truth,
and wanted to reconcile with Ray.
He raised his head and looked at Fraser again. "Ya' know,
Fraser, Steve and I never had a good relationship, even when we were
kids. But......but maybe now we sorta could have......" His voice trailed
off. His eyes grew intense as he looked at Fraser. "I could never be
as close with him as I am with you......I wouldn't even want that. You
know that, don't ya', Frase?" Ray asked, his questioning eyes almost
pleading.
That thought had crossed Fraser's mind, but it felt so painful
to contemplate, he quickly dismissed it. And now Ray was bringing it
up, almost as if he had read Fraser's mind, reassuring him that that
could never happen. He felt himself becoming emotional.
"Yes, Ray, " he said in a near whisper, "I do know that, but
I'm glad you told me anyway."
Ray smiled tentatively and rested his head on his hands again.
After a few moments of silence, he sat upright. "So, I guess I'll call
Dr. Hayward back and tell him okay," he looked to Fraser for confirmation.
"That's probably the best thing, Ray."
***************
Three days later Ray sat nervously outside Dr. Hayward's office
at Stateville Correctional Center, waiting to meet with Steve's prison
psychiatrist and then with Steve himself. Fraser had offered to accompany
him, but while Ray would feel more comfortable with him there, he had
declined his offer, stating it was something he had to do alone, to which
Fraser had nodded in understanding. Ray had said that he would stop
in at the Consulate afterwards to tell him how everything went.
As Ray waited, he thought about the last time he had seen
his brother. It was a year ago in prison, when Ray talked to Steve,
at the request of the District Attorney, about cooperating with the authorities
to help them locate his partner in crime. Ray had already written Steve
off, and was only meeting with him as a favor to the DA. When they met,
Steve had angrily reminded Ray that he had promised to help him. Of
course, Ray had made that promise before Steve had deceived him, and
as far as he was concerned, the promise was nullified by Steve's actions.
Now a year later, Ray was here at the prison after agreeing to meet with
Steve, feeling extremely apprehensive. But, if what the doctor had said
was true, that Steve was truly remorseful, and if there was a chance
he might take his own life over guilt, Ray had no choice but to meet
with him.
The receptionist's buzzer went off. She picked up the receiver
and glanced over towards Ray, nodding her head. As she hung up, she
said to Ray, "Dr. Hayward will see you now."
Ray gave her a tentative smile as he rose slowly from his
chair and approached the doctor's office. Dr. Hayward was sitting behind
a large desk, rising with his hand outstretched as Ray entered his office.
He was a tall solidly built man, appearing to be in his late 40's, with
graying hair, eyeglasses and a warm face.
"Hello, Detective Kowalski, I'm Dr. Hayward. It's very nice
to meet you." He gestured towards a chair in front of his desk. "Please,
have a seat."
Ray shook his hand, "Thank you, Dr. Hayward. Nice to meet
you." Ray sat down, still apprehensive, but there was something about
the doctor's demeanor that helped diminish his anxiety.
"I'm glad you decided to see Steve. It means a lot to him,"
the doctor said as he examined what Ray assumed to be Steve's file.
"Yeah, well, if he wants to make amends, it wouldn't be right
not ta see him," Ray responded quietly, forcing a sad smile to his lips.
He didn't know how much his brother had actually told Dr. Hayward about
their history, but was hoping the doctor would enlighten him.
"Well, Detective, according to Steve, he committed horrendous
acts against you, and with therapy, he's come to realize just how wrong
those actions were, and he now holds great remorse for his behavior.
He understands that his lifelong feeling of resentment towards you was,
in fact, not your fault."
This was the first Ray was ever hearing about his brother's
resentment towards him. Apparently, the doctor had delved into Steve's
background to ascertain the motive behind his actions, especially towards
Ray. He remained silent, but gazed at the doctor questioningly. Upon
noting his expression, the doctor continued to speak. "I take it you
have no knowledge of your brother's ill will towards you and why he feels,
or I should say, why he felt that way for so many years."
Ray shook his head slowly.
"Well, Detective, Steve was nine years old when you were born,
at which time your parents turned most, if not all, of their attention
towards you and away from him, at least in his mind. At age nine, he
claims they expected him to basically care for himself, and in his words,
they 'hung him out to dry'. And he blamed you for that. As the years
went on this resentment festered, and developed into a hatred of you
that he evidently could not control. He held you at fault for everything
negative that happened in his life......for getting into trouble......performing
poorly in school, basically everything. So when you reunited last year,
Steve still carried those hateful feelings towards you, and he actually
felt justified in his duplicitous treatment of you. But now, with therapy,
he has come to comprehend that those feelings that began with your birth
were not your fault. He now understands that he projected all his failures
onto you unfairly. He no longer feels hostile towards you. He's hoping,
with your consent, that the two of you can reconcile, and perhaps develop
a close, brotherly relationship." The doctor stopped talking and looked
into Ray's eyes for some kind of confirmation.
Ray was taken aback by all this information. He never knew
his brother had hated him. They had never been close, that was true,
and Steve wasn't very nice to him growing up, but he never would've thought
that Steve resented him to the point of hating him. It was a lot to
take in at once, but for now, he was willing to accept that his brother
no longer felt that way and was willing to try to start over. And this
was something Ray had hoped for even after the events of the previous
year.
"Well, I'm willing to give it a try if he is," Ray said, still
not comfortable providing the doctor with too much information. He was
totally caught off guard by Dr. Hayward's next question.
"Do you love your brother?" he asked, his eyes studying Ray's
face.
Ray shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He looked away from
the doctor, and stared at the corner of his desk. "Um, I......he's my
brother......I love him for that. But, I, uh.......I don't feel close
to him. I don't really trust him. I......I don't really know him,"
he said quietly.
"I understand, Detective. Hopefully, you'll both be able
to resolve your negative feelings towards one another."
Ray looked at Dr. Hayward. "My parents don't know Steve's
in prison. Did he say anything to you 'bout tellin' them?" he asked
nervously.
Steve hadn't seen or spoken with his parents since he was
a teenager, and Ray didn't know if he wanted to reconcile with them as
well.
"I'm glad you asked me that, Detective. Steve isn't ready
for your parents to be notified of his incarceration. In fact, he told
me that he doesn't even want to discuss them with you." He paused. "I
take it you keep in contact with them?"
"Uh, yeah, we talk on the phone. They live in Arizona."
"Well, then, please, Detective, it would mean a lot to Steve
if you didn't mention anything to them about his situation. It wouldn't
benefit them or Steve at this point."
"Okay, I just wanted ta be sure." Ray was actually relieved.
He knew his parents would be devastated if they knew.
The doctor seemed satisfied with Ray's answers and made some
notations in Steve's file. He turned his attention back to Ray, "So,
are you ready to see Steve?"
"I guess so. I just, uh, I really don't know what ta say
to him." He was asking for help.
"Say whatever you feel, Detective. That's the same advice
I gave to Steve. He's as nervous as you are about this meeting."
Hearing that made Ray feel somewhat less apprehensive. "I
guess I'm ready."
Dr. Hayward led Ray out of his office, down the hall and through
another door. Inside there was a spacious room encasing a large cell
with bars. Inside the cell were two high windows, and a rectangular
conference table with chairs. He directed Ray towards one of the chairs.
"If you wait here, I'll bring Steve in. He won't be in restraints.
I'll just be staying a few minutes to help you get started. Then you'll
both be on your own. And when you want me you can just pick up that
phone." He pointed to a phone on the side wall next to the bars, Ray's
eyes following his arm. At that point, he noticed a large mirror next
to the phone. He looked at the doctor, but before he could ask, the
doctor spoke, "No, Detective, no one will be watching you. You and your
brother will have complete privacy." Ray nodded. "I'll be right back
with Steve." The doctor turned and left the cell, and then exited the
room.
Ray sat quietly as he waited. His heart was literally in
his throat......butterflies were doing somersaults in his stomach. The
fact that his brother would not be in restraints actually made him nervous,
but apparently the doctor felt they weren't necessary. Ray would've
felt better if Fraser were with him, but he knew that this was a matter
between him and Steve. He was planning to tell Fraser everything that
occurred at this meeting, determined not to make the same mistake he
had made a year earlier by lying. Yes, Fraser had readily forgiven him,
but it had taken much longer for Ray to forgive himself.
Ray's thoughts were interrupted when he heard footsteps coming
down the hall. Turning to face the door, he watched as his brother entered
the room first. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit, looking the same
as he had a year earlier, save for a few more lines on his face. As
he entered the room, Steve's gaze fell towards Ray, a look of uncertainly
in his eyes. Ray smiled tentatively as he stood and faced him. Dr.
Hayward entered immediately behind Steve and began to speak. "Detective,
Steve's been waiting some time for this meeting."
Steve jumped in, "Yeah, Ray, it's good ta see ya'." He approached
Ray somewhat quickly, his arms slightly outstretched as if he wanted
to hug him. Ray stepped back, not prepared for any type of physical
affection. He offered his right hand instead. "Uh, hi, Steve, how are
ya'?" He asked, finding it difficult to look into his brother's eyes,
actually feeling like he wanted to cry. Steve paused at Ray's restrained
reaction towards him, but quickly recovered and shook his hand, "Well,
ya' know, Bro, prison, it ain't no country club." Ray tried to force
a smile.
The doctor spoke, "Why don't you two have a seat and get reacquainted.
You know how to reach me," he said as he glanced towards the phone on
the wall.
"Yeah, thanks, Doc," Steve responded as he sat down at the
conference table, his eyes never leaving Ray's face. Glancing towards
the doctor, Ray took a seat on the other side of the table, nervously
fidgeting while studying his hands as if he'd never seen them before.
Steve regarded Ray for a few minutes until it became apparent that it
was up to him to get things moving. "It's really good to see ya, Ray."
He paused. "I guess I said that already."
Ray smiled anxiously, not removing his eyes from his hands.
Steve continued, attempting to break through the tension that was permeating
the room.
"Listen, Ray, I did some really bad things to you, and I'm
really sorry. I been blaming you for a lotta things in my life. But
I know now they weren't yer fault." He gazed at Ray, willing him to
respond.
Ray finally tore his attention away from his hands and focused
on his brother. "I'm sorry ya felt that way, Steve. But......" He
stopped talking.
"What, Ray......say it," Steve urged.
Ray decided not to hold back, not knowing if he'd have this
opportunity again. "How could you blame me for everything? I was a
dumb kid, for chrissakes. I tried.....I tried all the time with you.
But ya' just.....you were so mean ta me. I never knew why. I thought
I did something wrong. And then last year I tried to help ya', and you
still......." his voice trailed off. He was afraid he may have said
too much, fearing Steve would be angry. But to his relief, he wasn't.
"I don't expect ya' to understand, Ray. Cuz it makes no sense.
I can see that now. All I can do is ask you to forgive me, ta give me
another chance. I don't know how to make it up to you in here, but I
can try," he said surprisingly compassionate.
"You don't haveta do anything, Steve. Just don't hate me."
Ray's eyes welled with tears.
"I don't, Ray. I love ya'. I can say that now. Yer my brother,
and I did some real bad things to you. You didn't deserve any of it.
I'm sorry. Do ya' think you can ever forgive me?" he asked, his eyes
almost pleading.
Ray regarded his brother. This was what he had wanted for
a long time, thinking perhaps it was too late, but now realizing that
it wasn't. He could forgive his brother, they could be friends. Steve
said he was willing to try. But even though Ray felt he could forgive
Steve, he didn't think he could ever stop fearing his brother......the
fear he felt his entire life.
"Yeah, Steve, I can forgive you. Maybe we can work on this
brother thing together," Ray said, an encouraging but cautious smile
on his face.
"What about yer partner?" Steve felt the need to ask.
"Fraser? What about him?" Ray asked, not understanding why
Steve would mention Fraser.
"How does he feel 'bout this whole thing? He tell ya' not
ta come?"
"No, he told me I should." Ray replied, recalling the discussion
he had had with his partner regarding Steve.
"Oh yeah? That's surprising."
"Meaning what?
"Cuz he hates me, Bro," Steve gazed into Ray's eyes as he
spoke.
"Nah, he was just a little upset.....well, I guess he was
a lot upset with you, but he doesn't hate ya'." He paused as he thought
about the Mountie. "Nah, Fraser doesn't hate anybody."
"Well, okay, but that wacko dog of his does."
Ray smiled sadly shaking his head.
"No, really, Bro, is the Mountie okay with this?" Steve had
seen the look in Fraser's eyes when Ray had arrested him, and he recognized
hate when he saw it. After all, he had felt it all his life for his
brother, the one who was sitting across from him now, the one he was
asking for forgiveness.
"He's good, he's great. Don't worry 'bout Fraser."
"Okay, Bro, if you say so." There still was tension in the
room. Ray realized it would take more than one meeting to ease that
feeling between them, but he felt they had made progress today, quite
a bit of progress.
He pushed his chair back. "Um, well, look, Steve. I can come
back again and visit, if that's okay with you." Ray looked into his
brother's eyes afraid he might see rejection, but again, there was none.
"Yeah, Bro, that's great. I'd like that." He paused. "So,
ya' leavin'?"
Ray hadn't planned on leaving so soon, but the emotional toll
this meeting was taking on him was more than he had expected, even though
it had gone well.
"Uh, yeah, I gotta get back ta work. But, I'll come back
and we can talk again." Ray stood.
"Okay, Bro. Sounds good." Steve smiled warmly. Ray couldn't
help but return the smile as he walked around the large table and slowly
approached his brother. They stood and stared at each other for a few
awkward moments. Ray finally extended his right hand and Steve took
it, but then pulled him into an unexpected hug. Ray, still uncomfortable
with Steve, quickly broke off their contact, not ready for this
after just one meeting. Avoiding Steve's eyes he turned and
walked over to the phone, picked up the receiver and asked to have Dr.
Hayward return to the cell. The doctor apparently had been nearby, as
Ray had just hung up the phone when he appeared at the door, accompanied
by a guard. Dr. Hayward surmised from the expression on both men's faces
that the meeting had gone well.
"So, gentlemen, everything okay here?" he asked optimistically.
"Yeah, it's pretty good," Steve responded as he glanced towards
Ray. "My brother's gonna visit me again."
"I'm glad to hear that, Steve." Dr. Hayward was obviously
pleased with the news. Turning to Ray, he gestured towards the door.
"Shall we, Detective?"
"Yeah." Ray walked over to Steve and shook his hand again,
placing his left hand on Steve's shoulder. "I'll see ya' again soon."
"Great, Bro."
The guard led Steve from the room, Ray and Dr. Hayward following,
but turning in the opposite direction once they were in the hall.
"So, Detective, I take it you made the right decision by coming
here today?"
"Looks that way.......hope so." Ray was still cautious, concerned
that he still feared his brother, wondering if he could ever let go of
that fear.
"Well, I hope so too, Detective. I'll be talking to Steve
later about your meeting. I'd also like to talk to you about it."
Ray wasn't comfortable talking to Dr. Hayward about his feelings
for his brother, but he knew it would probably benefit Steve. "Uh, sure."
"Can I call you later then......about four o'clock?'
"Do ya' think you can call me later on at home, about six?
I don't wanna talk about this from the precinct."
"Of course." Ray removed a pen and a card from his jacket
pocket, scribbled his home number on the back of the card and handed
it to Dr. Hayward. "Thank you, Detective."
He led Ray to the prison entrance. As Ray signed out and
retrieved his gun, the doctor extended his hand. "If you call me before
you come, I can arrange for you to meet with Steve privately again.
As long as he's under my care, you don't have to go through the usual
formalities." Ray shook his hand, "Thanks, doctor. I'll talk to ya
later." The doctor nodded as Ray turned to leave, feeling more hopeful
than he had in more than a year.
***************
Ray had some business to finish up at the precinct, after
which he had planned to stop in at the Consulate to tell Fraser what
had happened at the prison. But once he reached the station, he became
tied up with more cases and was forced to stay to complete the necessary
paperwork. He called Fraser to tell him he'd pick him up a little after
five o'clock, and they could go to Ray's apartment, order dinner and
talk there. He was expecting the call from Dr. Hayward at six, and wanted
to be home to receive it. Fraser had been very anxious to learn the
particulars of Ray's meeting with Steve, but Ray wasn't forthcoming on
the phone. He did notice, however, that Ray had sounded upbeat, leading
him to believe that everything went well. He had mixed emotions about
Ray reconciling with his brother, not yet convinced that Steve was being
sincere, even though the psychiatrist had told Ray that he had experienced
a transformation. Assuming Ray was returning to the prison, he had decided
to ask if he could accompany him on his next visit, so he could meet
with Steve and form his own opinion.
At 5:10pm, Ray pulled up in front of the Consulate in his
black GTO, almost driving up onto the sidewalk. He noticed Fraser and
Diefenbaker waiting outside as he reached over to unlock the passenger
door. Diefenbaker bounded to the car, followed quickly by Fraser. As
he opened the car door, Fraser pulled the seat forward for Dief and situated
himself next to Ray. He was wearing jeans, a denim button down shirt,
his black leather jacket, and carrying his stetson, which he placed in
its usual spot on the dashboard.
Ray observed Fraser with a smile, "Hey Benton buddy, how was
yer day?"
"Good, Ray. I'm more anxious to hear about yours." He returned
Ray's smile, only his was tentative.
Ray quickly sped off and headed towards his apartment. "We'll
talk about it when we get ta my place, but I'll tell ya' now that things
between me and Steve are better. I think they're gonna be good." He
thought for a moment. "I figure we'll order, say, Chinese, so I can
be home when Dr. Hayward calls. That okay with you, Frase?" He glanced
over towards his partner.
"Yes, that's sounds fine, Ray. I promised Diefenbaker a special
dinner as he's behaved exceptionally well today." At that, Dief gave
a short yelp in the back seat.
"That true, Dief?" Ray asked, eyeing the wolf in his rear
view mirror. "How 'bout some moo shu beef, or maybe some sweet 'n sour
soup?" Diefenbaker barked again in response.
"Both? Ya' got one hungry wolf back there, Frase," Ray said
smiling, tossing a furtive glance to Fraser as he spoke. Fraser kept
his eyes towards the road, smiling at his partner's mood.
When they had reached Ray's apartment, both men settled on
the couch, Diefenbaker lying by the coffee table. They decided to order
dinner after Ray spoke to Dr. Hayward on the phone. He had told Fraser
about his meeting with Dr. Hayward and then with Steve, what the doctor
had said about Steve's feelings of resentment towards him and that Steve
had asked Ray to forgive him. Fraser listened quietly. After Ray mentioned
that he was planning to visit Steve again, Fraser spoke.
"You never had any idea that Steve felt that way about you?"
"Nah, I knew he had no use fer me, but I didn't know he hated
me. But he said he doesn't feel that way anymore. He knows all that
stuff that happened to him wasn't my fault."
Fraser watched Ray as he spoke. He looked so hopeful. But
Fraser was skeptical that thirty-seven years of deep-rooted hatred and
resentment could be erased with barely one year of therapy, regardless
of how intense that therapy had been.
"Ray, would you mind if I accompanied you on your next visit?"
"Jeez, I dunno, Frase. It might make him uncomfortable."
He paused. "He talked about you, ya' know." Ray watched Fraser's reaction
to his disclosure.
"He spoke about me? What did he say?" This revelation was
unforseen.
"Well, he, uh, he said you hated him."
Fraser was stunned. He didn't want Ray to know how he felt
about Steve, but here his feelings were being laid out in front of him,
and by Steve himself, though indirectly. He didn't say anything.
Ray continued. "I told him it wasn't true, that you don't
hate anybody." He thought a moment. "I don't think he believed me though."
He looked at Fraser with questioning eyes.
Fraser didn't know what to say. He couldn't lie to Ray, but
he didn't feel right telling him that he did, in fact, feel hatred towards
Steve. He kept his eyes averted from Ray's, examining the remote control
that lay on the coffee table.
"Hey, Frase, how come yer not saying anything? Is Steve right?
Do ya' hate him?" he asked with trepidation in his voice.
Fraser had to respond. "It isn't that easy, Ray. Emotions
are complicated to explain. In this case........"
"No, Frase. Either ya' hate somebody or ya' don't," Ray interrupted,
feeling angry, why, he didn't know. "Do ya' hate him or not?"
"I can only say that I have hateful feelings towards him for
what he did to you, Ray. But I don't know him well enough to say that
I outright hate him." He hoped that answer would satisfy his partner.
"I guess I know what ya' mean. So, ya' think if you came
with me, you could see for yerself that he changed, and then you'd feel
better 'bout him?"
"Yes, Ray, that would probably be the best approach. Of course,
I wouldn't remain for your entire visit. I understand that Steve might
be uncomfortable with me there."
Ray nodded and tilted his head to the side, "Yeah, okay, Frase.
That sounds good."
The phone rang. Both men glanced at the clock......6:03PM.
It had to be Dr. Hayward.
"Would you like some privacy, Ray?" Fraser asked as he rose
from the couch.
"No, Frase, stay here. I got no secrets from you," he responded
as he reached for the phone.
Fraser returned to the couch, feeling relieved at Ray's words.
He listened to Ray's side of the conversation, which, again,
was mostly one sided on Dr. Hayward's part. He watched Ray smile as
he spoke to the doctor with short, intermittent statements, "Yeah, it
was, or "I thought so too." Then Ray began to speak. Apparently, the
doctor had asked him how he felt the meeting had gone. He spoke slowly,
seemingly unsure of his words.
"Well, he told me he doesn't hate me anymore. He wants ta
work it out. I guess all that therapy really works, cuz he seemed ta
mean it. I wanna work it out too. I know I cut the meeting short, but
it was just......hard.......finding out all that stuff about how he felt
since he was a kid....I just didn't wanna mess things up. Well, I don't
know about that, but do ya' think I can come on Saturday? Yeah, that's
good. Uh......" Ray gazed towards Fraser, whose eyes hadn't left his
partner since the phone call began. "Do ya' think my partner can come
too?" Ray nodded as if the doctor could see him. "Yeah, Constable Fraser..........I
know Steve thinks that, but he's wrong." Ray listened. "Yeah, it's
important ta me. Okay. Thanks, Dr. Hayward. Yeah, we'll see ya around
eleven on Saturday."
Ray hung up the phone. He smiled at Fraser. "Okay, Frase,
it's all set for Saturday. That good with you?"
"Yes, Ray, that's fine." His smile belied his feelings.
"Great, Frase, greatness."
***************
Fraser and Ray waited in the same cell with the large conference
table where the original meeting had taken place. Both men were casually
dressed in jeans, Fraser in a white button down shirt, Ray in a dark
t-shirt, their leather jackets hanging on the backs of their chairs.
Ray was apprehensive again, this time because Fraser was there. He had
thought having him there would help him feel more at ease, but that was
before Steve had said that Fraser hated him. Even though Fraser had
told him it wasn't true, he had admitted that he harbored 'hateful feelings'
towards Steve. But having thought all that, Ray was confident Steve
could win Fraser over.
The doctor entered the room with Steve at his side. Steve
quickly approached Ray, giving him a hug, causing Ray to feel very uncomfortable.
As he wrapped his arms around Ray, he spoke, his eyes boring into Fraser's.
"Hey Bro, ya' came back," he feigned surprise. Then he stepped back,
"I see ya brought yer partner," his eyes never leaving Fraser.
"Yeah, you don't mind, do ya', Steve?" Ray asked nervously.
"Fraser wanted to, uh, say hello to ya'."
"Nah, any friend of yers, Bro...." Steve's voice trailed off
as he extended his hand to Fraser. "Hey, Constable, welcome to my world."
"Please, call me Fraser," he said as he shook Steve's hand.
Dr. Hayward jumped in, "I understand Constable Fraser won't
be staying for the entire visit. So, Constable, please pick up that
phone when you're ready to leave and the guard will escort you to the
waiting area."
Fraser glanced towards the phone, "Thank you, Dr. Hayward,
I will." The doctor smiled towards Ray and Steve and left the room.
After an awkward few moments, Steve spoke. "Why don't we
siddown and get comfy?"
He sat in the same chair he had during the initial meeting,
Fraser following Ray to the other side of the conference table, both
taking chairs opposite Steve.
"So, Consta......I mean, Fraser, Ray tells me ya' don't hate
me after all," Steve said somewhat smugly.
"Why, no, of course not........may I call you Steve?"
"Knock yerself out."
"Thank you, Steve. I had concerns for Ray, as I'm sure you
understand after the events of last year."
Steve frowned as he turned towards Ray. "He always talk like
that?"
"Uh, well, ya' know, Canadian," Ray shrugged.
"Oh, yeah." Steve addressed Fraser. "I understand, Fraser.
But that's all in the past now. With Doc Hayward's help, I don't feel
like I used to anymore. Ray's my only brother, and I treated him pretty
bad all his life, and that's gonna change startin' now." He smiled at
Ray as he spoke.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that, Steve. Ray's my partner and
closest friend and my main priority is his welfare."
Ray wasn't happy having his partner and brother talk about
him as if he weren't in the room, but he held his tongue.
"Yeah, I care 'bout his welfare too," Steve replied flippantly.
He decided that he didn't like Fraser.
"Then we agree," Fraser said, pausing as he studied Steve's
face. He may not have hated Steve, but he definitely didn't like him.
Ray took the opportunity to speak.
"Okay, now that we got that settled......." He smiled at
Steve. "So, how ya' feelin?"
Before he could answer, Fraser stood up. "Why don't I leave
you two alone? I know you probably have a lot to talk about."
Ray didn't want Fraser to leave, and, in point of fact, he
actually didn't have a lot to say to his brother, plus he still felt
uncomfortable with him. But he knew the uneasiness he felt around Steve
would eventually fade.....at least he hoped it would.
"Okay, Frase, I'll see ya' in a little while."
Fraser walked around the table and approached Steve, holding
out his right hand. "It was very nice to meet you, Steve. I'm happy
to see that you and Ray are working things out."
Steve stood and shook Fraser's hand. "Yeah, so am I."
Fraser gave Ray a reassuring smile, lifted his jacket off
the back of the chair, and approached the phone. As he picked up the
receiver, he glanced back at Steve who was watching him with an expression
he couldn't quite read. Jealousy perhaps? No.....he wasn't sure. The
guard appeared and escorted Fraser from the room.
After Fraser left, Steve turned to Ray. "He's like a mother
hen to ya'," he sounded annoyed.
"Yeah, well, Fraser worries, I guess that's what buddies do.
But once ya' get to know him......"
"Yeah, yeah, I know, ya' love him," Steve interrupted. "Listen,
Bro, you still okay with this? You didn't change yer mind, did ya'?"
Steve asked with concern in his eyes.
"No, Steve. Why.....did you?"
"No, uh uh, I didn't change my mind. I never been so sure
of anything in my life," he said with conviction.
"Good, that's good." Ray smiled. Hearing that from his brother
helped ease his persistent anxiety.
Steve's eyes lit up. "Hey I gotta tell ya' somethin' really
funny that happened the other day.........." Steve leaned in closer
as he told Ray the story.
***************
Fraser waited for Ray in the hallway. The guard had wanted
him to go out to the waiting area, but he had told him that he might
be needed back inside. The truth was, he felt more comfortable being
closer to Ray while he met with his brother. Every now and then he'd
hear laughing, usually Steve's loud bellowing roar, followed by an uncertain
chuckle from Ray. He couldn't hear what was being said, but primarily
heard Steve's voice, as it was louder than Ray's, plus Steve seemed to
be doing most of the talking. Fraser still wasn't totally convinced
of Steve's sincerity. He had wanted to speak with Dr. Hayward to get
a better handle on Steve's state of mind. But he knew Ray would be angry
with him if he did, so he resigned himself to being there for Ray and
offering his opinion when solicited.
After about thirty minutes, Dr. Hayward appeared, surprised
to see Fraser standing in the hall.
"Constable, you're not in the waiting area," he sounded irritated.
"No, Dr. Hayward, I felt more comfortable waiting here."
Fraser decided to take this opportunity to say something. "Do you feel
everything will work out for Ray and Steve?" He chose his words carefully.
"Well, Constable, no one can predict the future, but I'm confident
that Steve wants to reconcile with his brother. And Ray appears to be
equally as committed."
"I'm glad you feel that way, Doctor Hayward. I know we only
want the best for both of them."
Dr. Hayward nodded as he proceeded towards the room where
Ray and Steve were visiting, motioning the guard to follow. Apparently,
Ray had called for the doctor on the phone. A few minutes later, Steve
appeared in the doorway accompanied by the guard, followed by Ray and
Dr. Hayward. As he passed Fraser, Steve stopped and held out his hand
again. "I'm sure I'll be seeing more of ya', Fraser."
"Yes, I would assume so," he replied, shaking hands with Steve.
Steve glanced over his shoulder to Ray, "See ya', Bro."
"So long, Steve." The guard escorted Steve down the hall
and around the corner.
"Well, Detective, how did your second visit go?" Dr. Hayward
asked Ray.
"It was good. I know it'll take time." He seemed anxious
to leave.
"I'm glad to hear it went well. So, you'll call in a few
days when you're ready to return?"
"Um, I don't know, I, uh....maybe I shouldn't come back so
soon."
"Well, Detective, I feel it would be better for Steve as well
as yourself if you visited him at least once a week, preferably more."
Dr. Hayward sounded adamant.
"Uh, okay, if you say so, probably Wednesday or Thursday......I'll
let ya know."
"Thank you, Detective. I'll show you out."
Fraser and Ray followed Dr. Hayward to the prison entrance
where they signed out. Ray retrieved his gun, they both shook hands
with the doctor and left.
***************
Ray continued to visit Steve about two times per week according
to Dr. Hayward's instructions, his subsequent visits without Fraser.
Much to Fraser's dismay, Ray rarely mentioned his brother or their meetings
together. He didn't want to pry, but the times when Ray did talk about
Steve, he always seemed to be sad or disappointed about something. Fraser
had the distinct impression that Ray wasn't happy with the progression
of their relationship. He seemed tense and more quick-tempered than
usual, especially on the days before his visits. Fraser had wanted to
talk to him about it, but had promised himself that he wouldn't interfere
in Ray's relationship with his brother unless asked, as difficult as
that was proving to be. He was actually being very perceptive, as Ray
actually wasn't encouraged by the progress, or lack thereof, of his new
alliance with Steve. However, Dr. Hayward had assured Ray that he was
very pleased with how things were going, and that he saw a marked improvement
in Steve's overall demeanor since Ray had been visiting. The truth was,
Ray still felt as intimidated and uneasy around his brother as he had
when he first visited him at the prison. He knew he'd never be nearly
as comfortable with Steve as he felt when he was with Fraser, which actually
wasn't concerning him as he didn't feel as relaxed around anyone
as he did with Fraser. But the apprehension he felt before and
during his visits was the source of many sleepless nights for Ray. He
knew it was his problem, not Steve's, so he didn't feel justified talking
to Dr. Hayward about it. He had thought about discussing it with Fraser,
but because he felt Fraser disliked Steve, he decided it was best to
keep the matter to himself. But he still had hope.
***************
It had been about two months since Ray and Steve had had their
first meeting. Having just returned from lunch, Ray sat in his chair
at his desk, Fraser in his, Diefenbaker lying at Ray's feet. Because
Ray hadn't seen Steve in over a week, he was feeling less tense than
he had in some time. The fear that he felt around his brother had been
grating on him. For that reason, he had cut back on the frequency of
visits, although Dr. Hayward wasn't pleased with his decision. Being
away from Steve this past week made for a very relaxed blonde detective,
a correlation Fraser easily perceived. He couldn't help but notice his
partner's more laid back attitude.
"So, Ray, would you like to take in a movie tonight?" Fraser
asked, realizing they hadn't attended one since Steve entered the picture.
Ray contemplated Fraser's suggestion. "I dunno, Frase. Do
we haveta see some foreign flick with those dumb subtitles? Whenever
we go ta one of those, before ya' know it, I'm makin' ZZZZ's."
"Ray, I wish you'd give foreign films a chance. They can
be quite entertaining as well as......."
"Dull as dishwater?" Ray interrupted.
"No, Ray, enlightening."
"I don't go to the movies to be enlightened, Fraser. I go
to laugh or scream or ta see something disgustin' that's gonna make me
wanna toss my cookies."
"Why would you want to toss your cookies, Ray? I thought
you liked cookies," Fraser said, confused.
"Toss yer cookies, Fraser. Puke. Heave. Retch. Hurl.
Ralph......"
Fraser interrupted. "Thank you, Ray, I'm afraid I get the
picture."
At that moment, three men dressed in dark suits entered the
squad room, all three with 'stay-outta-my-face' expressions. Ray recognized
them from Internal Affairs. Apparently, everyone else recognized them
as well since all eyes followed the men as they entered Lieutenant Welsh's
office, without benefit of knocking.
"Wonder what that's about," Ray said as he watched Welsh's
door close.
"Who are they, Ray?" Fraser asked.
"They're from IA. One of them's a bigwig. Always a bad sign
when they come 'round. I wonder what's up."
"Well, perhaps Leftenant Welsh will fill us in when they leave."
"I wouldn't bet on it, Frase." Ray looked up as Francesca
approached carrying several files, one of which she dropped onto Ray's
desk.
"Hi Fraser," she ignored Ray. "Did I hear you say something
about going to the movies tonight?"
Fraser stirred uncomfortably in his chair as he loosened the
collar of his serge. "Well, Francesca, Ray and I decided not to attend
as, apparently, he would rather thrust his cookies than see the same
movie I would," Fraser explained.
"Thrust his cookies, Fraser?" Francesca looked over towards
Ray who shrugged.
"Why yes, Francesca, thrust his cookies. Puke. Heave. Retch.
Hurl. Ralph......."
"Fraser!" Francesca stopped him, a horrified look on her face.
Ray tried his best not to laugh. She stared at him accusingly as he
turned his head away. "You!" she charged, pointing her finger at Ray,
"It's all your fault. You're corrupting him!"
"Francesca, I assure you, Ray is not corrupting me. I was
merely explaining why we decided not to attend a movie tonight," Fraser
innocently defended Ray.
"Fraser, you're spending too much time with that lowlife degenerate,
he's rubbing off on you," she warned.
Ray gripped his chest as if he were just shot. "Aw, Frannie,
that hurts."
"I'll show you what hurts......."
"I assure you, Francesca, that nothing's rubbing off on me,
least of all Ray, and I feel you should apologize for calling him, what
was that you said, a 'lowlife degenerate'."
"Yeah, Frannie, apologize," Ray feigned offense.
"Sure, Ray, I'll apologize.......when you're good looking."
She turned and walked away.
Fraser looked at Ray. "I believe Francesca just insulted
you, Ray."
"Nah, Frase. That's just her way of sayin' she wants me."
"Of course, Ray."
At that moment, Welsh's door opened and he appeared in the
doorway, a pained expression on his face. He glanced over towards Ray.
"Vecchio, in my office please." He didn't wait for Ray to
respond as he returned to his office, leaving the door open.
Ray slowly rose from his chair, tossing Fraser a concerned
look over his shoulder as he approached Welsh's office. Now all eyes
were on Ray as he disappeared through the door.
The three men from Internal Affairs were standing to the left
of Welsh's desk. Ray entered the room and stood to their right facing
Welsh, who leaned against his desk. He didn't look happy.
"Detective, I believe you know Lieutenant Harrison and Detectives
Williams and McCarthy." Ray briefly glanced at all three men and turned
his attention back to Welsh.
"What's this about, Lieutenant?" he asked.
Before Welsh could respond, the 'bigwig' Ray had referred
to, Lt. Harrison, began to speak. "Detective, you have a brother, Steven
Kowalski, currently serving time at Stateville?"
Ray's head jolted in Williams' direction. "Yeah, so?"
"Well, he escaped early this morning," Williams said, his
eyes squinting as he studied Ray's reaction to his words.
"He what? When?" Ray was stunned by this announcement.
"Apparently, he slipped out in a laundry truck about seven
o'clock this morning. The arrival and departure times of all delivery
vehicles are considered classified information. They run on an arbitrary
schedule to avoid any, let's say, unforseen circumstances, like a prisoner
planning to hitch a ride in one. So, what we'd like to know is, first,
how he obtained knowledge of the schedule and, second, who the driver
of the truck was. The regular driver received a call from an unidentified
prison authority telling him the delivery was canceled and not to report
to work. Obviously someone on the outside provided your brother with
the schedule, and drove the truck or hired someone to do it," Harrison
said in an accusatory tone.
"What, you.....you think I helped him? What are ya'.... are
ya' outta yer mind? I got nothin' to do with that prison. How would
I know the delivery schedule?" Ray spat the words with contempt.
"Detective," Lieutenant Welsh interjected, "No one is accusing
you ......."
"The hell they're not!" Ray bellowed.
Lieutenant Harrison cut in. "Are you refusing to cooperate,
Detective?"
Ray realized he had to calm down. He took a deep breath.
"Go ahead."
Harrison continued. "You've been visiting your brother on
a regular basis for the past two months, is that correct, Detective?"
he asked forcefully.
It took all of Ray's restraint not to lunge at that smug blowhard.
"Yeah, so?"
"And you've been calling him?"
"So, what? He's my brother. I'm gonna visit him.....I'm
gonna call him." He was trying hard to control his anger.
"Where were you this morning around seven?"
"I was sleepin' in my apartment," he growled, vein throbbing
at his temple.
"Is there anyone who can corroborate that, Detective?" Harrison
asked with skepticism.
Ray shook his head, his hands clenched into fists at his side.
"I'm sorry, Detective Kowalski, but you're suspended pending
the outcome of our investigation of your brother's flight from Stateville,"
Harrison recited.
"That's nuts!" Ray screamed. "I told ya' I got nothin' ta
do with that prison. How the hell would I know the stupid laundry schedule?"
"You're a cop, you have access to the Corrections Department's
computer records. You could find out what an inmate had for breakfast
if you wanted to," Harrison shouted, his eyes narrowed.
Lieutenant Welsh jumped in. "Lieutenant Harrison, is it really
necessary to suspend Detective Kowal........."
"Forget it, Lieu. They already think I did it. Let 'em suspend
me," Ray spat, his face flushed with rage.
"We have some men on their way to check out your apartment
now, Detective. Don't go home until Lieutenant Welsh gives you the go
ahead."
Ray shook his head slowly as he stared at the floor. His
blood was boiling.....he just wanted out of there.
"Detective, I'm gonna haveta take your shield," Welsh said,
almost apologetically.
Ray kept his head down as he raised his eyes and glared defiantly
at Welsh. He seized his shield from his back pocket and slammed it onto
Welsh's desk.
"And his weapon," Harrison chided.
Ray didn't hesitate. He snatched the gun from his shoulder
holster and dropped it on the desk.
"Is that all?" he hissed, his eyes trained on his shield.
"Get outta here. And don't leave town," Harrison warned.
Ray spun around on his heels and stormed towards the door.
He threw it open, hard enough to slam against the wall and bounce back,
almost hitting him as he bolted through the doorway. Everyone in the
squad room had heard the commotion and, as they had been when he entered,
all eyes were now on him as he exited. Ray didn't bother to look up,
keeping his head down as he charged out of the bullpen.
Fraser was up in a flash. He grabbed Ray's jacket and sprinted
after him trying to catch up, Diefenbaker bounding ahead of him. By
the time he reached the parking lot, Ray was already pulling out.
"Ray!" he called out loudly as he ran towards the car with
Diefenbaker.
The GTO screeched to a halt. Ray reached over and unlocked
the passenger door. Fraser quickly opened it, held the seat for Dief,
and jumped in. He was just pulling the door shut as Ray floored the
accelerator and raced out of the parking lot.
***************
Fraser studied Ray as he drove, both hands gripping the steering
wheel, his jaw clenched, eyes straight ahead. He had noticed Ray's gun
missing from his shoulder holster and suspected that he had been suspended.
He, as well as the entire squad room, had heard Ray blow a gasket in
Welsh's office. Ray was furious, his anger reflected in his driving.
"Ray."
Ray depressed the accelerator further.
"Ray." Fraser repeated, more firmly.
Ray squirmed in the driver's seat, but didn't respond.
"Ray! Either you calm yourself down or you pull over!" he
shouted.
A second later Ray swerved the car into an alley and slammed
on the brakes, Diefenbaker almost falling to the floor from the jolt.
Ray sat upright, eyes still straight ahead, jaw clenched,
hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his fingers were turning
white. Fraser reached over, shifted the car into park and turned off
the engine. He placed his hand over Ray's.
"Ray, let go of the wheel," he said quietly.
Ray took a deep breath and released the steering wheel. He
buried his face in his hands.
"They suspended me, Frase," his voice cracked.
"Why, Ray, what happened?"
Ray ignored the question. "I'm so stupid, I'm so fucking
stupid. I can't believe it, Fraser," his voice was trembling. "I can't
believe I let him do it to me again."
"Ray, tell me what happened. Who are you talking about?"
He had a sick feeling Ray was talking about Steve.
Ray removed his hands from his face and grabbed the steering
wheel at the top, resting his head against his hands.
"I knew it didn't feel right," he almost whispered.
"Ray, we should go to your apartment and talk," Fraser said,
almost afraid to hear what Ray had to say.
"No, Fraser, IA sent over some creeps to go through my stuff.
I can't go home 'til Welsh calls."
Fraser shook his head, wavering between concern for his partner
and anger at what was happening to him.
"All right, we'll go to the Consulate then."
"But what about.........."
"Inspector Thatcher is attending an all day conference and
Turnbull won't bother you."
Ray thought for a moment. "All right, Fraser. I just.........."
his voice broke.
"Let me drive, Ray." Fraser placed his hand on Ray's shoulder.
Ray slowly sat up and looked at Fraser, his anger replaced
by a sullen expression, his eyes not fully focused.
"Yeah, sure, Fraser."
Fraser got out of the car and walked around the front as Ray
moved over to the passenger side. He kept his eyes on Ray as he slid
into the driver's seat. Ray was now slouched in his seat, his right
elbow leaning on the door handle, his head resting on his hand. His
eyes were closed, and his lips were moving as he mumbled something under
his breath.
They arrived at the Consulate and Fraser parked the car in
front. Ray didn't stir. Fraser got out of the car, walked around to
the passenger side and opened the door for Ray, startling him.
"We're here, Ray."
Looking up to see for himself, Ray nodded, dragged himself
from the car and walked straight to the front door. Fraser pulled the
front seat forward for Diefenbaker and rushed to catch up with Ray as
he entered the building. Turnbull, who was on the phone in the reception
area, motioned to Fraser to wait as Ray continued towards the office
with Diefenbaker at his side. Turnbull placed his hand over the mouthpiece
and whispered to Fraser, "Sir, Inspector Thatcher called and........."
"Not now, Turnbull," he said abruptly. "And please don't
transfer any calls to my office." He rushed to catch up with Ray.
Turnbull called after him, "But, sir, Inspector Thatcher......."
Fraser had already entered his office and closed the door.
Ray dropped into the chair behind Fraser's desk, resting his head on
his crossed arms, Diefenbaker at his feet. He felt so very tired.
"Ray, can I get you anything?"
"No, Frase. Thanks."
Fraser took the chair across the desk and waited.
After a few minutes, Ray sat upright and gazed at his partner.
He took a deep breath. "Steve bolted this morning, Fraser. They're sayin'
I helped him."
Fraser sighed at Ray's words. He wasn't surprised.
Ray told him what had happened in Welsh's office, how Lieutenant
Harrison from Internal Affairs had just short of accused him of assisting
in his brother's flight. He related the details of Steve's escape, the
circumstances pointing to an outside second party.
"I can't believe how stupid I am, Fraser. I let him fool
me again."
"No, Ray. I don't believe he fooled you."
Ray narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in a silent question.
Fraser explained. "You're afraid of him, you still don't
trust him, and you continue to feel anxious when you're with him. Isn't
that true, Ray?"
Ray didn't respond. He stared at Fraser with a stunned expression
on his face. He thought he had been successful in hiding his apprehension
about Steve, but obviously not from Fraser.
"Deep down, you felt he hadn't changed, Ray. But you wanted
so much to believe that he had, you ignored your feelings and kept trying
to connect with him."
Ray slowly shook his head. "He didn't fool you either, did
he, Frase?"
"No, Ray, but I wasn't as emotionally involved as you. It
was easier for me to see through him."
As Fraser spoke, his eyes grew wide. "Ray, we have to go
back to Stateville Prison."
"Why, Frase?"
Before he could respond, Ray's cell phone rang. Fraser retrieved
it from Ray's jacket pocket, and handed it to him. "Vecchio," he sighed.
It was Welsh. "Detective, I need you to come back to the
precinct immediately. Is the Mountie with you?"
"Yes sir," Ray shook his head slowly as he closed his eyes.
"Bring him also."
Fraser could see fear creeping into Ray's face. "We gotta
go back to the precinct, Frase."
***************
By the time Fraser and Ray reached the precinct, the squad
room was almost deserted, save for the cleaning man and one or two detectives.
Fraser left Diefenbaker at the Consulate with Turnbull, who had again
tried unsuccessfully to speak to Fraser about Inspector Thatcher's phone
call. As they approached Lieutenant Welsh's office, they could see that
the officers from IA were still there.
"Jesus," Ray mumbled under his breath, as they entered the
office, his guard already up.
Welsh spoke. "Constable, this is Lieutenant Harrison and
Detectives Williams and McCarthy." Fraser nodded politely. "Gentlemen,
Constable Benton Fraser." The three cops scrutinized Fraser, who was
still in uniform, his stetson at his side.
Harrison immediately jumped in. "What's he doing here?" he
jabbed his finger in Fraser's direction. "He's not involved with this."
"He stays," Welsh barked. "And didn't your Mother ever teach
you it's not polite to point?"
"Never mind," Harrison recognized Welsh's tone and resigned
himself to Fraser remaining.
"Whaddya want now?" Ray barked, feeling both angry and nervous
at being called back to the station.
Harrison faced Ray. "Detective, we need to ask you a few
more questions, if you don't mind," he said sarcastically.
"What, what! Just ask!" Ray snapped. Harrison kept his eyes
trained on Ray as he held his open palm out to McCarthy, who handed him
a file folder.
He opened the folder and removed a letter size piece of paper,
waving it in front of Ray's face. "Does this look familiar to you?"
Ray snatched the paper and scanned it, Fraser peering over
his shoulder. It was Stateville's laundry delivery schedule for that
week. Ray started to fume.
"No." He shoved the paper back at Harrison.
"Well, it should, Detective. It was found in your apartment."
Ray was ready to pounce. "The hell it was! I never saw that
paper before," he hissed, his voice dripping with contempt.
"I suggest you look at it again, Detective. It was
in your apartment." He removed another paper from the file
and held it out for Ray. "And you may find this information interesting."
Ray's eyes narrowed with rage. He grabbed the paper from
Harrison and glared at it, Fraser again looking over his shoulder. It
was a page from a pending phone bill........Ray's phone bill. One call
was highlighted.
"What's this number?" Ray snapped.
"It belongs to the regular driver of the laundry truck. That
phone call was made at nine o'clock last night, the same time he received
the call about the delivery being canceled for this morning. The call
was made from your apartment, Detective." Harrison gave Ray a spiteful
smile.
"I wasn't even home last night at nine," Ray hissed through
clenched teeth. "I didn't leave the Consulate 'til 9:30."
"That's true, Leftenant Harrison, Ray was with me at the Consulate
until 9:30 last night," Fraser confirmed Ray's statement.
"Well, isn't that cozy," Harrison spewed. "You're partners.....you
think I don't know you're gonna back him up?" He narrowed his eyes at
Ray. "Did anyone else see you between the time you allegedly left the
Consulate and the time you reached your apartment?"
Ray stared at Harrison. "How the hell do I know!" he snarled.
"Well, Detective, until you come up with a credible alibi,
as far as IA is concerned, you were home last night at nine o'clock making
that phone call."
Ray shook his head slowly, his eyes blazing with venom. He
turned towards Welsh. "Lieu, I'm telling ya' I didn't leave the Consulate
'til 9:30 last night. You don't haveta believe me, but ya' know Fraser
doesn't lie." He was almost pleading.
"Look, I'm sorry about this, Detective, you got a raw deal.
But right now my hands are tied," Welsh responded apologetically.
Fraser couldn't allow this to continue. "Obviously, someone
has set up Detective Kowalski. If you review his exemplary record, you'll
see that he couldn't........."
"Your comments are unwarranted, Constable," Harrison barked.
"Now please shut your mouth so I can do my job." Fraser's eyes flashed
with anger. Harrison stared at Ray, who glared at him defiantly. "Turn
around, Detective."
Ray hesitated a moment, then turned to face Fraser. Their
eyes met and locked as McCarthy stepped forward with handcuffs. "Put
your hands behind your back." Ray complied, still looking into Fraser's
eyes, gaining strength and encouragement from his partner's tacit expression.
"You're under arrest for accessory to felony escape." McCarthy
proceeded to read Ray his rights as he frisked him, locating his boot
gun. During the entire procedure, Ray's eyes were still locked onto
Fraser's.
As Harrison opened the door to leave, he turned back to Welsh,
"I'll keep you apprised." He addressed his cohorts, "Let's go." McCarthy
tugged on Ray's arm.
"Take my keys, Frase," Ray's voice wavered as he cast his
eyes towards his pants pocket. Fraser stepped forward and retrieved the
keys. Their eyes met again and Fraser saw fear flash across Ray's face
as he was being pulled sideways out of the room.
"I'll get you out first thing tomorrow," Fraser said reassuringly.
Ray nodded quickly as he was almost dragged from Welsh's office.
Fraser stood quietly, hands clasped behind his back, eyes
cast to the floor. It took him a few minutes to compose himself.
"Constable.........."
"No, Leftenant, please allow me to speak. I'm sure you're
aware that Ray is not capable of committing this crime, or any crime.
I..........." His emotional state forced him to stop talking.
"Constable, you must know I agree with you. You take as much
time as you need to get Ray outta this mess. I'll talk to Inspector
Thatcher. Whatever you need, you ask me. You'll have the full resources
of this precinct. Now, it's too late to post bail tonight, but I'll make
sure Ray is arraigned first thing in the morning so you can get him out.
I'll call my buddy at the PBA, and get him over there tonight to talk
to Ray. I'll make sure he tells him he'll be gettin' out tomorrow."
"Thank you, Leftenant. Can you also have your friend inform
Ray that I'm checking out a lead this evening, and that I hope to have
some information for him in the morning."
"You need any help on that?" Welsh asked.
"Yes, Sir. I would like you to please call Stateville and
advise them that you're sending me as your representative to investigate
Steven Kowalski's escape. I'll need a prison wide pass in order to conduct
a thorough investigation."
"You know what you're doing, Constable?" Welsh asked, his
eyes squinting.
"Yes, sir."
Welsh observed Fraser for a few moments. "All right, Constable.
I'll make the call. But, you be careful."
"I will, Leftenant, thank you." Fraser exited the office
as Welsh picked up the phone.
***************
Fraser drove Ray's GTO to the Consulate to change into street
clothes. Turnbull was gone for the day, but had left a lengthy note
about Inspector Thatcher taped to his office door. Fraser ripped the
note from the door and tossed it onto his desk without reading it. Turnbull
had also left a note stating he had walked and fed Diefenbaker, for which
Fraser was grateful.
As he drove to Stateville, Fraser thought about the expression
on Ray's face as he was being cuffed. He had wanted to speak to Ray,
but circumstances didn't allow it. He attempted to silently convey to
his partner that he was not alone in this, that Fraser would be there
for him. Viewing Ray's subsequent expression, he felt he had succeeded.
After all, they were partners, and partners didn't need words to communicate.
When Fraser arrived at the prison, the guards at the front
gate were waiting for him. He was shown where to park the car and which
entrance to use. Upon entering, he was given a security pass, along
with an evidence report of the escape, and a layout of the building with
the laundry area and Steve Kowalski's cell highlighted. "Just make sure
you stop and check in with the guards at every station," he was told.
"Understood," Fraser replied, but he had his own agenda.
After checking Steve's cell and the laundry area finding nothing
as he had suspected, he furtively made his way to Dr. Hayward's office.
The outer office was open, however, the doctor's door was locked. Fraser
hoped the information he was seeking would be located on the secretary's
desk. It didn't take him long to find it. As he scanned the room for
a copy machine, his eyes fell on a food tray sitting on a file cabinet
directly outside the doctor's office. Apparently, Dr. Hayward had eaten
dinner at his desk and left the tray in the outer office for the cleaning
crew. After Fraser made his copy, he scrutinized the tray and helped
himself.
It took about forty minutes for him to complete his investigation,
and it had proved to be successful. As he signed out one of the guards
asked, "So, ya' find anything useful?"
"Perhaps," Fraser responded with a sly smile as he handed
the guard his security pass.
As Fraser drove away from the prison, he looked at his watch.
Good. It wasn't too late to visit Ray's landlady. He stepped on the
accelerator and headed in the direction of Ray's apartment.
***************
Fraser sat in the back of the courtroom waiting for Ray's
arraignment to begin. He had slept fitfully the night before as he visualized
Ray spending the night in jail. As he waited, he again pictured Ray's
face, this time as he was being led from Lieutenant Welsh's office in
handcuffs. He had noticed the flash of fear in Ray's eyes. He closed
his eyes trying to shake the image from his mind. Just then the clerk
called the court to order.
Fraser watched as Ray was brought into the courtroom. Still
wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his hands were cuffed in front of him, his
face drawn and expressionless. He hadn't noticed Fraser sitting in the
rear of the room.
The prosecutor had presented the evidence against Ray in a
compelling and flamboyant manner, requesting no bail from the judge.
Fraser feared the judge would comply since the evidence, although planted
to implicate Ray, was strong. But Lieutenant Welsh's friend from the
PBA was an experienced police defense attorney, and succeeded in securing
Ray bail of $100,000, with a ten percent option......which meant Fraser
had to come up with $10,000 cash. Fortunately, he had lived modestly
and saved wisely. He quickly rose from his chair to make the arrangements.
As Ray turned to leave, he noticed Fraser exiting the courtroom.
Just knowing he had been there made all the difference in Ray's emotional
state.
***************
After posting bail, Fraser waited for Ray in the lobby of
the holding center. When Ray emerged through the doorway, Fraser quickly
approached him and took his arm, clutching it tightly.
"Are you all right?" He asked quietly, taking note of the
dark circles under Ray's eyes.
"Yeah, Frase, I'm good," Ray smiled sadly. "Thanks for bailing
me out."
"No, Ray, don't thank me," he said gripping his arm as he
led him to the GTO. "We're going to your apartment. I have a lot to
tell you."
The ride to Ray's building took about forty-five minutes.
Ray had found it impossible to keep his eyes open and fell asleep about
five minutes into the ride. Fraser had hated to wake him when they arrived
as he was sleeping so soundly.
As they entered the apartment, Ray immediately stopped in
his tracks and slowly turned around in a complete circle.
"Uh, Frase? Since when do IA creeps leave a place neater
than it was before they got there?" he asked suspiciously.
"Ray, I couldn't have you come home to the mess they left.
It didn't take long to straighten up. Besides, I found seven dollars
and sixty-three cents for my efforts."
"Hey, just cuz you found that money doesn't mean
it's yers........it's my apartment."
"Too late, Ray, I already spent it on bagels and cream cheese
for breakfast." Fraser pointed to the kitchen table which was set for
two, a bag of bagels sitting in the center.
"Hey, thanks, Frase. I'm starvin'." He paused. "But I really
need a shower first." He removed his jacket, dropping it onto the couch
as he approached the small hallway leading to the bathroom. "Ya' know,
Frase," he shot over his shoulder, "any leftover change is mine."
***************
Fraser and Ray sat over their breakfast of coffee, tea and
bagels. As Ray sliced his raisin bagel, he glanced across the table.
"So I guess I'm in deep shit, huh, Frase?"
"Not necessarily, Ray," Fraser responded with optimism.
Ray put down the knife and stared at Fraser, eyes wide. "What?"
Fraser explained. "I went to Stateville last evening, Ray.
Lieutenant Welsh arranged a security pass for me to investigate Steve's
escape. I found some very interesting evidence against Dr. Hayward."
Ray almost choked. "What, Fraser? Dr. Hayward? Are you
kidding?"
"No, Ray." He rose and picked up a manila file folder that
was lying on the kitchen counter. "Look at this." He removed the xerox
copy he had made at the prison the night before as he sat down next to
Ray.
"What is this?" Ray asked, as Fraser handed it to him.
"It's Dr. Hayward's appointment schedule for the day Steve
escaped. Lieutenant Harrison said that the laundry truck departed with
Steve at 7AM. According to this patient schedule, he was supposed to
be in extended session with Dr. Hayward from seven to nine that morning."
Fraser retrieved another piece of paper from the folder. "But according
to this report detailing the events of the escape, Hayward didn't announce
that Steve was missing until nine o'clock. Why did he wait two hours
to report him?"
Ray opened his mouth to speak, but Fraser kept talking. "Wait,
Ray, there's more. There was a dinner tray sitting outside Hayward's
office on which I found a butter knife with a distinct thumb print on
the handle. I brought it to the lab this morning, and asked them to
call your cell phone when they have an ID."
"What if he's not in the system?" Ray asked, rubbing his tired
eyes.
"The fact that he works for the Corrections Department means
he has to be in the system, but it's my belief that his prints will appear
for another reason."
A thought occurred to Ray. "Hey, Fraser, I can't believe
ya' stole that knife. That's very un-Mountie like behavior."
"Well, I didn't exactly steal it, Ray. Let's say I appropriated
it."
"Ya' stole it."
"Confiscated it."
"Stole it."
"Seized it."
"Stole it."
"Stole it."
"Thank you."
Ray frowned. "Yeah, but Fraser, even if we do get something
from this, we can't use it cuz you didn't have a warrant. The same goes
for Hayward's appointment schedule," Ray grumbled.
"Well, Ray, we never would've been able to obtain a warrant
based merely on my suspicions, so the only way I could gather this evidence
was to do it covertly. In any case, I believe we will secure even more
compelling evidence later, so we won't have to rely on this information,
which we can't use anyway as you've pointed out."
"What evidence is that?"
"I believe Dr. Hayward will eventually lead us to Steve, and
I'm fairly confident it will be sooner rather than later. All we have
to do is tail him."
Ray's cell phone rang. Fraser retrieved it from the kitchen
counter and answered it. As he listened to the person on the other end,
he wrote a few notes.
"Yes, I would appreciate it if you kept this between us.
Thank you kindly, Marie." He hung up the phone and faced Ray.
"That was Marie in forensics. She ran the fingerprints on
the knife and did some digging for me." Fraser referred to his notes.
"It appears that Dr. John Hayward's real name is Dr. John Graham, also
a psychiatrist, from Detroit, Michigan. Twenty years ago he served two
years of a six year sentence for embezzlement, when he escaped in much
the same manner as Steve had. He had stolen $75,000 from the hospital
where he was employed before he was found out. Most of that money has
been recovered."
"Yeah, but when he got the job at Stateville, they woulda
found all that out from his prints," Ray argued.
"Apparently, there actually was a psychiatrist named John
Hayward who died nineteen years ago. Graham managed to assume his identity
and utilize his fingerprints for his employment."
"He's one slick, lowlife scumbag," Ray said quietly, shaking
his head in disgust. He tilted his head to one side. "Hey, Fraser, what
made you suspect Hayward in the first place?" He frowned. "And why
would he help Steve escape?"
Fraser sighed deeply. "Remember yesterday when you were talking
about how Steve had fooled you again?
Ray nodded slowly as took a sip of his coffee.
Fraser continued his explanation. "The fact was, however,
that he hadn't fooled you....or me for that matter. You admitted that
you had your suspicions about him, but decided to give him the benefit
of the doubt, so you kept your concerns to yourself."
"Yeah so?"
"Well, Ray, why is it he didn't fool us but managed to totally
delude Dr. Hayward? It doesn't make sense unless Hayward is a miserably
incompetent doctor, which I don't believe he is. Unfortunately, he
used Steve's lifelong resentment towards you to his advantage to effect
some sort of plan. I don't know what that plan is yet, but he needed
Steve to accomplish something on the outside, so he used his professional
prowess to manipulate him. Instead of treating Steve, he recruited him
by inflaming his hatred of you. So Steve's motive in all of this was
revenge against you, as he knew you'd ultimately be charged as an accessory
to his escape. Sadly, he was never rehabilitated and probably hates
you more now because of Hayward's machinations."
"Wait a minute, Fraser. So yer saying Hayward made Steve
hate me so much that he pretended to make peace with me so I'd get blamed
for his escape?" Ray was incredulous.
"I'm afraid so, Ray."
Ray dropped his head into his hands. "That son-of-a-bitch
quack, Hayward. I can't believe this, Fraser. Because of that Dr.
Frankenstein, Steve'll probably never get better." He shook his head.
"I suspect Hayward caused a great deal of damage, but hopefully
it's not irreparable, and a dedicated doctor can eventually reach Steve."
"What about the evidence that IA found in my apartment?"
Ray asked with questioning eyes.
"I spoke to your landlady last night, Ray. You told me she
notices everything that goes on in this building. She said she saw a
man fitting Hayward's description leaving around 9:15 the night you were
at the Consulate. He planted the laundry delivery schedule and placed
the phone call to the regular truck driver. Did you ever tell Steve
about your social plans?"
"Yeah, all the time. He always asked and I was glad to tell
him cuz I didn't have anything else to say."
"So he knew you planned to spend most of that evening at the
Consulate, and as a result, so did Hayward."
"So, what now......we tail the witch doctor?" Ray asked.
"Yes, Ray. We can situate ourselves outside the prison.
I saw an excellent location while I was there last night. I'm sure Hayward
will be connecting with Steve shortly. Shall we retrieve Dief from the
Consulate first?" Fraser removed his leather jacket from the hook as
he opened the door.
Ray grabbed his cell phone, jacket and keys and approached
the door when he stopped in his tracks. "Fraser, I don't have a gun,"
he said, seemingly lost.
"We have our wits, Ray," Fraser replied as he disappeared
into the hall.
"Oh, jeez," Ray whined as he followed after Fraser.
***************
Fraser, Ray and Diefenbaker sat in the GTO outside Stateville
Correctional Center for the better part of the day. They had seen visitors
coming and going, but there was no sign of Dr. Hayward.
"I had hoped he would leave at some point during the day,"
Fraser said, "but apparently, he's spending the entire day inside."
Ray looked at his watch. "Well, Frase, it's six o'clock,
he should be comin' out soon." He yawned. "Man, I'm tired. I hope
somethin' happens tonight so we can get this over with."
As Ray spoke, Fraser suddenly bolted to attention. "There!"
he said pointing to a dark green Buick exiting the employee parking lot.
Both men slumped down in their seats as the car passed the GTO. Ray
quickly sat up, started the car and U-turned, taking off after Dr. Harrison.
They followed the car for about thirty miles into a middle
class neighborhood with older, one story houses. The most inconspicuous
location they could find to park the GTO was down the street under a
large oak tree.
"We could spend all night here, Frase," Ray complained. "I'm
hungry."
"I'm sorry, Ray, but it wouldn't be wise to leave at this
point," Fraser said as he kept his eyes on the house Hayward had entered.
"Yeah, whatever, Fraser." Ray turned and looked at Diefenbaker,
fast asleep in the back seat. "Dogs, they got the life." He regarded
Fraser who was intent on watching Hayward's house. "Look, Frase, I'm
takin' a nap. If I don't get some sleep, I'm gonna be good for nothin."
"Fine, Ray. I'll wake you if anything happens."
Ray slouched down in his seat and rested his head against
the car window. It took him about thirty seconds to fall asleep.
***************
"Ray."
"Hmmm?"
"Ray.
"Go 'way."
"Ray!"
"Whaa......?" Ray sprang up in his seat. "What's goin' on?"
"There, Ray." Fraser pointed to the Buick as it drove down
the street in the opposite direction.
"Oh, shit!" Ray shook himself awake, started the car, and
followed the green car.
They tailed Dr. Hayward across town to the waterfront district.
"I don't think he's got reservations for dinner down here, Frase." Ray
said as he maintained a safe distance from the Buick.
"He's pulling into that parking lot. Park here, Ray." Ray
complied as Fraser watched Hayward park his car and enter a large building.
It appeared to be an old abandoned factory.
"Shall we?" They both got out of the car, Fraser pulling
the seat forward for Diefenbaker. "Dief."
"Fraser, he's sleepin'.......he's a sleepin', deaf wolf......he
can't hear you," Ray chided as he reached inside the car and nudged the
sleeping wolf. Dief sprang up.
"He wakes up much the same way you do, Ray," Fraser observed.
"Cute, Frase. Come on."
They cautiously approached the building Hayward had entered.
Ray went in one direction, Fraser and Dief in another. As they separated,
Fraser cautioned his partner, "Be careful, Ray, don't forget you don't
have a gun."
"Oh, thanks for reminding me, Frase," he responded sarcastically.
As Ray approached the back of the building, he noticed another
door behind a large dumpster. Quickly running towards the door in a
crouched position, he tried the door knob, discovering it was unlocked.
He cautiously entered the building, quietly closing the door behind him,
finding himself in a cavernous, warehouse type room, dimly lit, with
large cardboard boxes and garbage scattered about the floor. He heard
someone speaking and carefully crept ahead to investigate, keeping his
head down. He saw Hayward pacing in front of a desk talking on a cell
phone. Then he heard his name spoken from behind.
***************
Fraser and Diefenbaker were on the other side of the building,
the same side Dr. Hayward had entered. Fraser didn't see any other doors
on this side, but there were some open windows a few hundred feet from
the door Hayward used. Fortunately, there was a dumpster underneath
one of the windows. Diefenbaker couldn't balance on the narrow edges
of the dumpster, so Fraser motioned for him to wait on the ground. He
climbed to the top of the dumpster and peered into the window, seeing
nothing. He quietly crawled through the window and jumped to the floor
inside the building, landing in a crouched position trying not to make
any noise. As he stood upright, Dr. Hayward suddenly appeared in front
of him pointing a gun in his direction.
"Hello, Constable Fraser, why don't you join us." He gestured
with his gun for Fraser to walk ahead of him and around a corner. As
Fraser rounded the corner in the large room, he was startled to find
Steve and Ray standing a few feet apart, eyes trained on each other,
Steve aiming a gun at Ray.
"Now isn't this fun," Hayward said as he motioned Fraser over
towards Ray. As he approached Ray, Fraser studied Steve's face, noting
the hatred in his eyes as he aimed his gun at his brother.
"Steve, you should know what this so called doctor did to
you before you do anything you'll regret," Fraser warned.
"Shut up!" Hayward barked.
"What are your intentions, Doctor......Graham, is it?" Fraser
asked, his voice low.
Hayward looked at Fraser shocked that he knew his real name,
but quickly recovered. "Well, Constable, I'll show you mine if you show
me yours," he sneered. "You'll be dead soon anyway, so it really doesn't
matter what I tell you."
"Yer gonna kill two cops?" Ray snapped.
"You give me no choice, Detective. I refuse to go back to
prison, and the only way to accomplish that is to kill you both. In
my experience, I've found that cops usually arrest you after you've held
them at gunpoint," he snickered.
"You won't get away with killin' two cops," Ray barked.
"Correction, Detective, your brother will have the pleasure
of killing you himself." He turned to Steve, "And I assure you, Steve,
you will get away with it."
Ray watched his brother, who was staring at him through narrowed
eyes, gun trained on his head.
"So, Constable, you're very clever," Hayward said.
"Apparently not clever enough," Fraser replied. "What do
you hope to gain by all this?"
"What I hope to gain is what every American slaves for their
entire miserable lives and never gets, the almighty dollar, but in my
case, we're talking a myriad of dollars. I'm tired of working in that
stinking prison, treating mental degenerates who belong in nut college."
"He's talkin' about you, Steve," Ray said to his brother.
"Shut up, Detective. Steve knows he's not like my other patients,
he's my partner," he assured Steve. "He and I are planning the ultimate
robbery.....it'll make us very rich men. I've told you enough. Now,
Constable, it's your turn to show me yours, so to speak. How did you
know?"
"It didn't make sense, Doctor, that you were assuring Ray
that his brother had been emotionally rehabilitated when it was obvious
he was still hostile and angry. And if it was so apparent to Ray and
myself that Steve was extremely troubled, why wouldn't his doctor notice
it?"
"I ain't troubled," Steve bellowed.
At that moment, Diefenbaker bounded into the room and tackled
Dr. Hayward from behind, knocking him to the floor. The gun flew out
of his hand and landed behind him, too far for Fraser to safely attempt
to retrieve it. Diefenbaker growled viciously at the doctor, hovering
over him, not allowing him to move. Confident that the wolf had things
under control, Fraser and Ray turned their attention to Steve, who continued
to aim his gun at Ray.
"Steve, listen to me," Ray appealed to his brother. "Dr.
Hayward didn't try ta help you. He used you."
"Yer lyin'!" Steve screamed. "He's helpin' me."
Ray remained calm. "No, Steve. He knew ya hated me since
we were kids and he used that against you to help feed his slimeball
greed."
Steve furiously shook his head.
"Steve, please. There's no reason for you ta hate me. I
haven't done anything to you. I just wanna help you." He paused. "You
told me a few days ago that ya' loved me. You said you can say it now.
I can say it, too......I always could say it. I love ya', Steve, yer
my brother. Please, we can work this out. Put the gun down." Ray's
calm facade belied his fear.
Fraser stood his ground, knowing that Ray was the only person
who could convince Steve to lower his gun. Steve began to waver. He
gazed at Ray, his eyes welling with tears. "He told me everything bad
that happened to me was yer fault. But.....you were just a kid......you
didn't know.......you couldnt......." Steve's voice trailed off.
Ray held out his hand. "Gimme the gun, Steve. You don't
wanna do this. Don't let him ruin yer life." He slowly approached his
brother, his hand extended.
Steve began to tremble as he fought back the tears. His arm
dropped to his side. Ray stepped in front of him and took the gun from
his hand. Falling to his knees, Steve sobbed, "I'm sorry, Ray. I'm sorry.
I couldn't help what I was doin'." Ray kept his eyes on his brother
as he held the gun out for Fraser, who quicky retrieved it and turned
his attention to Diefenbaker and Dr. Hayward. Ray knelt down, placed
his arm around his brother's shoulders and helped him to his feet.
"Frase." Fraser turned to find Ray tossing him his cell phone,
which he promptly used to call for backup.
***************
Ray sat behind his desk at the 27th precinct eyeing
Fraser, who sat across from him in his usual chair. "I'm warnin' ya,
Fraser, spit it out......what does the Ice Queen call me?"
"Ray, you continue to ask me that question, and I've told
you........"
Ray's phone rang. "If this is Thatcher, Frase, I'm gonna ask
her if she's got a monitor for me."
"That's moniker, Ray, and I don't believe you will," Fraser
called Ray's bluff.
Ray winked as he picked up the receiver. "Vecchio." Ray sat
forward in his chair, his conduct quickly changing from playful to earnest
as he listened intently to the person on the other end.
"That's great, great. Yeah, sounds good, thanks......bye."
He smiled at his partner.
"That was Dr. Bradbury at Stateville. Steve's doin' pretty
good. I'm gonna visit him in a few days."
"That's wonderful, Ray." Fraser was sincere.
It had been three months since the incident in the abandoned
factory. Dr. Hayward had been found guilty of accessory to felony escape
and confinement against one's will, and had been extradited to Detroit
to finish out his original sentence, in addition to time added for his
escape. After serving that sentence, he would be transferred to the
Illinois Corrections Department, where he would serve time for his crimes
committed in that state. All told, John Hayward would be incarcerated
for a very long time. He had never disclosed the details of his 'ultimate
robbery' scheme, the one that was going to make him a rich man. However,
he confessed that he hadn't yet revealed the details to Steve.
Both Ray and Lieutenant Welsh spoke to the District Attorney
on Steve's behalf. When it was revealed how Hayward had used his professional
position to manipulate Steve, the DA had agreed not to press additional
charges under the stipulation that he receive intense psychological therapy
while incarcerated. That condition was carried out, and Ray had just
received a phone call from Steve's doctor delivering an excellent status
report on his progress. Of course he had a long road ahead of him, but
the doctor stated that he was responding well to therapy. Ray had gone
to see his brother on several occasions, noticing the change in him,
and the doctor told him he could visit more often assuming he felt comfortable
with it......which he did.
"So, Frase, ya' ready to tell me?" Ray was relentless.
Fraser sighed. "Ray, I've told you that Inspector Thatcher
holds you in the highest regard.....she considers you a very capable
police officer." Fraser smiled stiffly, hoping this might shut Ray up.
"Stop trying to suck up ta me, Frase. Ya' told me she feels
that way most of the time.....what about the rest of the time? Now,
spill." Ray wasn't giving up.
Fraser thought he would try another approach. "Okay, Ray,
what if.....what if Leftenant Welsh had a nickname for me, a name some
might consider to be unflattering. I'm sure you wouldn't reveal that
information to me," Fraser rationalized.
Ray glanced over to Welsh's office squinting his eyes, seeming
to contemplate what Fraser had just said. He turned back to his partner.
"Ya', know, Frase, yer right. I'm pretty sure Lieu doesn't want me to
tell.....I mean, wouldn't want me ta tell you what he calls
ya', I mean, if he did call ya' somethin'." He paused. "Wanna
get a coffee?" Ray rose from his chair.
"Wait.....wait a minute, Ray. What are you saying?" Fraser
asked, worried.
"Whaddya mean, Fraser?
"You more or less just implied that Leftenant Welsh has some
type of nickname for me, and a less than complimentary one at that."
Fraser rubbed his eyebrow with his thumbnail.
"Don't know what yer talkin' about, Frase. Didn't do nothin'
like that."
"You did, Ray."
"Didn't."
"Yes, you did, Ray. And I'd like you tell me what the Leftenant
calls me."
"Wouldn't be chivalrous, Frase."
"Well, that's just silly, Ray."
The End
Feedback, negative or positive, welcomed |
11187915 | Smokescreen | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Benton Fraser, Margaret Thatcher (due South)",
"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by Sitnah (frausorge)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "1999-12-01T00:00:00",
"words": "100",
"Additional Tags": "Incest",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Benton Fraser/Margaret Thatcher, Benton Fraser/Maggie MacKenzie",
"Series": null,
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} | It was there, it was within his reach, and she was right there with him. Fraser closed his eyes and still saw her, long limbs in red serge glowing against his eyelids. She was- it was- he was so close and
"Maggie!"
and he was jerking and spurting inside her.
When he opened his eyes, his wife was brushing her short, dark hair out of her face. She stretched a hand up to stroke his cheek. "Ben, I love you, but I hate it when you call me that."
He ducked his head and slid out of her. "Sorry, Meg." |
11181312 | Left or Dead | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia",
"Fandom": "Final Fantasy XV",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by ShadeofGreen",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-12T00:00:00",
"words": "196",
"Additional Tags": "Ficlet, Driving",
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} | There is a known agreement among Noctis, Gladio and Prompto that Ignis is the best driver of the four of them and as such, should be the one driving the Regalia at all times. Why, you may ask?Noctis, while a perfectly safe driver, is quite terrible at turns.Prompto can somehow make the car break down without realizing it.Gladio has road rage and curses at every driver that tries to cut him off.So it was an unanimous decision to let Ignis drive. He has no road rage, the car won’t suddenly break down on him, and he’s great at turns. There was just little problem…“Ignis! Watch out!” shouted Noctis, falling back into his seat.“You’re going to kill us!” cried Prompto, clutching onto the side door with his life.“Watch where you’re driving!” Gladio was resisting the strong urge to throw his book at him.“Sorry!” Ignis swerves the car and avoided collision with the other driver that flipped the bird at him.Ignis, while the best driver of the four, still doesn’t understand the fact he can’t drive on the left side of road, even when there is no one there. |
11144787 | At The Same Time | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung | V",
"Fandom": "방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by mnbmslkv",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-08T00:00:00",
"words": "2,309",
"Additional Tags": "taekook, vkook, sorry for this, sweet love (I guess), Short Story, One Shot",
"Relationship": "Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V",
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} | Every time, it was the same. The same circumstances, the same gestures, the same words, the same looks. The same people. At the same time. They took a different path and met again, discovered the other one in a new light, spoke of their respective pain, looked into each other's eyes. Both of them. At the same time. They got to know each other through a routine, a habit that had settled between them. But that was not inconvenient. They loved the daily life they had built up as they went, day by day.***“ Are you okay, today? ” Jungkook asked. “ What about you ? ” Taehyung replied. They did not look at each other, not in the eyes at any event. They never did it before they arrived to that place. Their gaze did not cross until that moment. They were merely walking side by side, their shoulders brushing at each step they initiated. This proximity, too, had become usual. As if they were afraid of not having any contact if they moved away from each other even for a few seconds. After a few minutes, the sea air slowly began to whip their faces. They loved it, both Jungkook and Taehyung. They had learned this from the other when they met for the first time. And since then they went there every day, at the same hour, to that rock where they had joined each other without really being aware of it. That's when it all began. Even today they sat on the same rock. They enjoyed the splendid landscape which was offered to them; that orange sky that covered almost all of their field of vision - as always at the same time - those powerful and monstrous waves that came loudly to crash on the calm shore. There was nobody at that time of the day, it was silent on this seashore. Like every time, at the same time. The distance between their two bodies was very small, once again. They had to stay close, no matter what. Otherwise, their imaginary reality would fly away. They could not afford it, neither one nor the other. No, they could not risk breaking the only bond they had created.“ I'd like to stop everything. ” said the red-headed, breaking this heavy silence. “ Stop what ? It would be useless for you to stop everything, it will start again soon after. Nothing can be stopped, Taehyung. I have tried so many times... ” “ You can’t tell me that, you don’t have the right! It's always the same, you keep repeating that I can’t do this or that! I'm fed up, I'm no longer a kid. ” “ You may have grown up, but you can’t change things. I don’t say that to hurt you, believe me. I'm here for you, don’t forget it please. ” Jungkook calmly continued. “ What if we both try? ” “ Try what, Tae? ” “ You haven’t called me like that for a while. See, I can make a difference! ” “ You did not answer me ! Try what ? ” Taehyung refocused his attention on the rough waves. He didn’t seem to remember wanting to try, as if he had already forgotten his previous request. No matter how many times he would try to come to the obvious, he needed to think that there was bound to be a solution. Thus, he was looking for it. He was rummaging through everything and was determined to find the slightest clue. But he had to get him out of there, too. He could not let Jungkook sink before his eyes. He had to hold him tightly to the deflated buoy on which he was wrecked. But the youngest continued to make them sink. He dragged them continually to the depths. Perhaps he didn’t want to get away from it after all. They began to speak as usual, forgetting their previous conversation. They were no longer paying attention to the hard, cold tone they had used against each other a few seconds before. They were just talking. About everything and nothing. But mainly about everything. From their lives to the bottom of the abyss, to their privileged - and rare - moment on the surface of the earth. They talked about their day as if they had nothing else to do, as if they were forced to talk about their lives day after day. But neither of them seemed to care about it, too focused on their task of admitting their crime of having been born. They needed to evacuate, and the other was there to destroy that barrier of stone that one built day by day. The redhead began to feel cold, the chills taking place on each of his limbs as if to remind him of how well he was awake in this world. He felt a weight on his shoulders; Jungkook had just put his jacket on him so that the oldest could stay warm, even if himself had to face the freshness that was permeating each of his pores. But he didn’t care, as always, at the same time, he would have preferred to freeze to death rather than see the redhead fighting against the eternal breeze.“ We could try to stop time. ” Taehyung re-attempted, as if they had never stopped this much talked about conversation, looking again into the brunette’s eyes. “ What for ? Aren’t you tired to keep banging on about this wretched part of your life? This ain’t a game, Taehyung. That's what you didn’t understand, and that's why I keep stressing out that you have not really grown up. In my eyes, you remain a child who does not take into account what he is victim of. ” said Jungkook in a harsh voice that was nevertheless reassuring. “ I understand. I totally understand, Jungkook. It's you, who don’t understand me. I know that my life is one step short of hell, that I will probably never get my head above water, but I want to believe it. And you, you keep digging us in deeper than the ground! ” shouted Taehyung, not standing up, and not taking his eyes off of the brunette. “ You think I'm speaking carelessly without being aware of what I'm saying, but it's just the opposite. I just want to stop giving me grief in order to make this hell even a little more bearable. Is that too much to expect? Can’t you try to think like me, just for once? Can’t you listen to me as I'm listening to you? ” “ I'm listening to you, and you know it. ” “ Stop time. Stop all those things that happen around us. Stay with you until the end. ” “ The end of what? ” Again, the older one seemed completely disconnected from what was happening a few moments earlier. He seemed to have forgotten what he had just said. And Jungkook never dared to interrupt him in his reflections. He knew that the redhead needed these little moments, he knew he had to think for a few minutes before resuming where they had stopped. And the time when the redhead was plunged into his own thoughts, the brunette took advantage of it to observe him. He liked the way the older one had to frown in order to stay focused. He liked the way the older one bit his lips to balance with the world around him. He liked the way the older one was able to merge with nature, his gaze stared on the horizon. He looked so vulnerable to Jungkook’ eyes when he acted like that." The end of us. " Taehyung naturally replied, his voice calming down like the waves still breaking over the white sand. “ Be clearer, I don’t understand you. It is not the end of us. ” " One day maybe, it will end. No matter what day, maybe we will stop meeting at the same time. ” “ If you don’t know, don’t make it up. ” Jungkook replied, annoyed. “ I don’ want to stop meeting you. You’re too important for me. But you're probably tired of me. So you surely want us to put an end to all of this. ” “ I don’t want to stop anything, Taehyung. ” “ Then we have to stop time, pause it. ” “ Stop talking nonsense, how do you want to do that? ” “ I don’t know. ”A silent farewell, until the next day, at the same hour. This moment was horribly long for both of them. The hours seemed to lengthen as they went on. The seconds became minutes, adding supplementary hours to their torture. They both dreamed of returning to this rock, the one that kept them connected. ***One more day, one that marked once again their daily reunion. They never got tired of it, but they were apprehensive. They never really knew what they were going to talk about, they were never sure what to do about the second. Every day promised to be a new step towards each other. Or perhaps would they retreat once more, as on the previous day, complaining on their irreversible fate.“ Let's go somewhere else today! ” Taehyung said, enthusiastic about breaking this pleasant but heavy routine. “ I want to get a change of air. ” “ No. Let's go down there, as usual. There's no need to get a change of air. ” Jungkook replied coldly.But Taehyung seemed really disappointed. He knew from the start that Jungkook would not accept, he knew perfectly well that he did not want to go to a place other than that rock in his company. The redhead began to believe that his friend was ashamed of him. Yet he had done nothing that had put him in an embarrassing or derogatory situation. He had never made a mistake at his side - at least, that’s what he thought. Jungkook had never complained of being with him until now, and Taehyung had to admit that his constant and recurring refusals hurt him every time. “ Nothing but just once... Please... ” “ It's useless, we're doing good at our usual place. ” “ But our habits frighten me! You'll get tired of it and you’ll abandon me! I am scared ! I'm afraid Jungkook! Can’t you try to see what I feel? Is it too complicated ? Well let me tell you then; I'm tired of this routine that scares me, I'm sick of looking at you in the eyes and see all the compassion you feel for the poor little Taehyung! ” The redhead cried desperately. “ The poor little one has grown and you’ll have to accept it! Can’t you look at me as an equal? Can’t you see me as I see you? ” He pleaded, tears to the edge of his eyes.“ And how do you see me Tae? You know very well that all this is false. ” “ Then prove it to me! ”Taehyung tried one last time. Jungkook closed his eyes, he needed to think too. He wondered why Taehyung felt the constant need to move away from this rock, the one that brought them closer. He couldn’t understand why he was acting in such a way, he did not need that. He sighed. He could not back backwards, he couldn’t refuse him anymore. If he had ever decided to decline this wish, he could lose him forever. And that, he would never allow it. Now Taehyung was part of his life, he could not affirm the contrary; He cannot,do so. Several times he had tried to persuade himself that the oldest represented nothing for him, that he was merely an acquaintance. But he had to face reality when he began to feel pain when Taehyung was crying, pity when he lamented, joy when he laughed. He wanted to smile when he smiled. His own emotions were related to those of the redhead. He turned his face, looked into the Taehyung’s eyes and began to walk in the opposite direction from the rock. He didn’t wait for the redhead, who remained in his thoughts for a few seconds before realizing that Jungkook had accepted. For the first time, the youngest had yielded to one of his whims. He walked quickly - or rather ran - to the other and caught up with him before it was too late. “ I ... can I hold your hands? ” Taehyung asked, afraid of Jungkook’s reaction. “ Why ? You are the one who constantly reminds me that you are no longer a child, so why do you want to hold my hand? ” He tried to remain passive with every word that the redhead gave, but his heart made complete turns in his ribcage as soon as his voice reached his ears." It is not because I’m a child that I want you to take my hand in yours. It is… ” “ Don’t say it. ” Jungkook said. “ It's because I love you. ” “ I told you to shut up. I won’t be able to continue if you keep saying that kind of stuff. ” “ But it's true! ” Taehyung said, suddenly stopping his pace - he would almost have been tempted to kick his foot on the floor like a 5-year-old. Jungkook stopped as well, raised his head to the sky before sighing loudly as if he were exasperated by the situation he was surrounded by. But instead of pouring out anger, he turned and walked quickly to Taehyung and imprisoned him in a warm and pleasant embrace. He also particularly appreciated this outpouring of affection. “ It's the first time… ” “ What are you talking about? ” Continued the tallest, curious to know what the man who was lying against his chest was talking about. “ This is the first time you’re hugging me so tightly in your arms, this is the first time you show me you love me that much. ” Taehyung smiled. “ I never said I loved you Tae. I didn’t tell you. ” “ But your heart beats to replace the words you are afraid to tell me. ” “ Let's stop it. Let stop everything, and let us think only of ourselves. Our love will save us from this world. ” |
11187561 | Lets Dance | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Dimitri Lousteau, Neyla",
"Fandom": "Sly Cooper (Video Games)",
"Language": "English",
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} | The music was deafeningly loud, bass thumping in time with the rapidly flashing multicolored lights. Everywhere around him people were dancing, crowded so close together that he couldn’t even see the floor. Nights like these were the best, in his opinion, nights when he could just lose himself in the atmosphere of the club. Nobody cared about anything but dancing, blowing off steam, letting everything go.He pushed through the crowd, going in no particular direction, watching the faces of the patrons behind his sunglasses. They all had the same expressions, a sort of reckless abandon, heads tilted up towards the huge disco ball in the center of the room, sometimes mouthing the words of the song. He scanned them all, satisfied, until his gaze settled on one particular tigress in a tiny clearing, where she danced all alone.He recognized her, he thought… She had been lurking around his club lately. What was she doing in here? Not that he minded, particularly. It wasn’t like she was causing trouble or anything and, now that he watched her… she was an amazing dancer.He stopped walking and stared at her, taking a long puff of his cigarette. She was completely absorbed in the music, her head bowed, arms above her head. Her hips were particularly enchanting to watch, as they moved and swayed unlike anything he had ever seen, every movement of them flowing up into her chest, and then her head, and then her arms. Her footwork was fancy, even though she didn’t move much from her spot, and even her tail was perfectly in sync. She seemed to be moving in slow-motion almost, the lights casting dark shadows over her toned body. And her face… she was pretty, with dark stripes like exotic make-up decorating her features. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open. It was just her and the music.He watched her for the entire song, enthralled, and when it ended he seized the opportunity, walking over to her. It didn’t seem like she had been planning on stopping, but when she saw him coming she did, anyway. Not a flash of uncertainty passed through her as he approached. She stood tall and confident, crossing her arms, her tail flicking idly.“Admiring the view?” she asked before he could say anything. He half shrugged, inhaling on his cigarette again.“You’ve got some slick moves, kitty-cat,” he said, thinking that ‘slick’ might be an understatement. “You’re kind of hard to miss.”“Well, thank you, I guess, but I--”“Where’d you learn to jive like that?” he asked. She shifted, moving her hands to her hips now, and stared at him.“India,” she said. There was a pause. “Wait… Do I know you?”“Everyone knows me here, baby!” he said, standing up a little straighter. “You haven’t heard of the Dimitri? I’m the owner of this place!”“Dimitri,” she said thoughtfully. After a moment, she put her hand out towards him. “Neyla.”“Enchanté,” he said, attempting to kiss her hand. She pulled it away and smirked at him.“Do you dance?” she asked. He let out an indignant noise.“Do I dance?? Of course I do, kitty-cat! That’s like asking if Da Vinci paints! I can lay down a beat better than a lot of--”“You wanna dance with me?” she asked, amused. The beginning beats of the next song were just beginning.“Mm. Dimitri doesn’t usually bring down the house with other peeps – cramps my style – but… how can I turn down a request from a pretty kitty like yourself?” He snuffed out his cigarette in the nearest ashtray, then turned towards her. He grabbed her arms and pulled her over to him until there were only a few inches between them. The bass beats exploded into a full-blown song, pounding throughout the club and vibrating through his body. She grinned up at him smugly, apparently not minding that he had just yanked her through any sort of personal bubbles either of them had had. So far, she was his kind of girl.“Let’s dance.” |
11185245 | Keeping Mirthful | {
"Archive Warning": null,
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Breeder!Kankri Vantas, Grand Highblood!Gamzee Makara, Kankri Vantas, Gamzee Makara, Kurloz Makara, Meulin Leijon, Porrim Maryam",
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"Language": "English",
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"Additional Tags": "Polygamy, Religious Fundamentalism, Cult of the Mirthful Messiahs, forced relationships - Freeform, Harems, Religious Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Rape, mentions of physical abuse, underage marriage, Child-Brides, Religious Questioning, Oviparous Trolls",
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} | Kankri took a deep, uneven breath. He hadn't expected this moment to come so soon, but it was here, now. His ancestor was in the very next room, speaking with the Grand Highblood himself, about his future placement. He was up soon, for the greatest honor he could hope for, but even sitting in the window seat, he felt unsettled about it.He had no say in this matter, of course. The Highblood had hugged him when his sire and himself had walked in, but the process was completely separate from Kankri. All he was told was that the Messiahs had declared that he was ready, and he was now being turned in to see the Highblood, so he could receive the revelation, about whom the Messiahs declared he was going to belong to. All he could do was keep his heart open and clear.It was more difficult, since he was about to enter his fertile cycle, and his skin felt like there were ants crawling beneath it as a result. He wanted to get up and walk, wanted to eat, he was fasting on this day in order to clear his heart for the Highblood, he wanted to go for a run, to run into his mother's arms. He couldn't do anything but try to stay still, keep mirthful, and try to clear his heart.It wasn't too long before his sire returned, with the Grand Highblood behind him, in his purple-trimmed Ringmaster's uniform, an ancient troll, hunched-over and now walking with a cane, his face still painted as it should be. His voice broke when he spoke, from many years of projecting it over his followers in the Church, and now it was reedy, he couldn't yell to the congregation anymore, but he still commanded respect, he was the Grand Highblood.Currently, he swept Kankri up in another hug, for all he was becoming frail, he was still a powerful troll, and patted his hand. "Welcome to the family, Little Kankri." He said, and patted him on the hand.It was done then, his new priesthood head was revealed to the Highblood. The sealing would probably be soon, but the question still remained."Who...?" He asked, turning his eyes up first at the Grand Highblood, the Messiahs' very mouthpiece on Beforus, then his ancestor. His ancestor gave him a proud smile."You'll join my other seals two days from now. The Messiahs themselves have entrusted you to me, little brother." Kankri gulped, and tried to process the words that had just been said. The Highblood had nineteen breeders sealed to him already, though only his older breeders had had grubs by him. It seemed that even standard trolls ceased being able to create descendants at some point. And Kankri had gone through just four fertile cycles, though he was a late bloomer.Remembering where he was, he tried to smile, trying to keep Mirthful and not show any of his uncertainty to his ancestor and the Highblood. It was of upmost importance. It was a matter of damnation or salvation.Finally he manages to squeeze out of his body, "Thank you, Grand Highblood, I will do my best to become worthy of this honor."The Grand Highblood of the Fundamentalist Church of the Mirthful Messiahs lets out a bark of a laugh, and congratulates Kankri's sire on his descendant becoming worthy of such an honor, to be sealed to the Grand Highblood, and gives some cryptic hints that Kankri can't quite parse together the meaning of. He has two days before his is sealed to this ancient trolls, and his mind is whirring.He has a sealing ensemble already, all sequins and stripes, of course, it only needs a little bit of adjusting. It wasn't uncommon for young breeders to have something already prepared for their second sealing, unless they had begun their cycles extremely early. His hope chest, filled with the objects he would need to set up a home if he was his new Highblood's first seal would be obviously useless.He has no idea what Highbloods and their seals do together in order to create descendants, and looking at the Highblood, he isn't sure that he wants to find out. The Highblood is old, and powerful. He's been living, been an Elder of the Church for a very long time even before he became the Grand Highblood.Two days from now, at the age of seven sweeps, he will be sealed to the ancient church leader, the Grand Highblood of the Fundamentalist Church of the Mirthful Messiahs himself, a great honor, his sire says. The highest honor a lowblood can hope for. Unlike at his present house, he'll have access to cards and cash, money gathered from tithes to the church. He'll likely have his very own block in the Highblood's sprawling estate, instead of the one he shares with three of his lowblood siblings.Best of all, his salvation will be assured now. The Grand Highblood, the Gods' mouthpiece on the planet, will certainly be going to the Carnival, and when he does, he'll call Kankri, and his other seals, to join him in the afterlife, serving him instead of being a spatter on the stage.When he voices a concern to his priesthood head, his sire ruffles his hair, gleeful, and says that this is a test. One day, if he succeeds, thousands of lowbloods will flock to him to hear his story of endurance and faith, and to see how happy he has become, serving at the right hand of the Grand Highblood of the Church. |
11125737 | Beltane Benny | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Benton Fraser, Ray Vecchio",
"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by BradyGirl_12",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "1999-03-22T00:00:00",
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"Additional Tags": "Romance, Series: The Wheel Of The Year Poetry, Poetry, Slash, Holidays, Established Relationship, Male Slash, Wicca, Paganism, Pagan Festivals, poem, Prose Poem, Love Poems, Sex, Sexual Content, Explicit Sexual Content, Series, Spring, Beltane",
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} | Fire crackles
And the warm breezes
Blow, swirling 'round
As the smoke curls
In hottest fury.
He waits,
Skin gleaming,
Eyes glowing,
Like some woodland
Creature,
Silent and strong,
A thing of beauty,
Long limbs loose
And his scent so
...Ray.
He takes his chosen
In sweat-slick passion
As the heat rises,
Flames licking
At their bodies,
Tongues wet
With desire.
Moans and sighs
Fill the air
As the chanters hum
And raise their voices
In the glory of
The Great Rite.
He is slender,
Hard and tasty,
Like fine
Italian wine.
Drink of him
Who praises thy name
And She-Who-Blesseth
The sacred ground
On which thee lay.
Petals blow
And caress bare skin
As the chanters
Cry
To the
Sky. |
11108532 | Steady Heart Steady | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Alex Danvers, Kara Danvers",
"Fandom": "Supergirl (TV 2015)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by theriacs",
"chapters": "1/1",
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"published": "2017-06-06T00:00:00",
"words": "633",
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"Relationship": "Alex Danvers/Kara Danvers",
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} | For as long as Alex has been aware, she’s always had steady hands.
Steady heart, steady hands.
She heard her mother say it once, and it’s stuck with her ever since. They were the kind of words that people build their entire lives around.Steady hands when she won her first science fair.Her mother and father were so proud of her that day. It was her first taste of what it was like being the best, like the sweetness of the chocolate sundae they shared afterward.Steady hands when she pushed on a younger boy’s chest.Her father taught Alex how to ride the waves and swim, but Alex taught herself to dive into dark currents and save those who were drowning. Bringing someone back to life brought a chill down her spine colder than the ocean. She traded fairy tales for anatomy and physiology that day.Steady hands when smoke and fire streaked across the sky.Her life changed forever from that point forward. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it was the end of being the best. The morning she pushed aside her curtains to see a mop of blonde hair on top of sad blue eyes, Alex stared in wonder because how could a being with enough power in her pinky to level a skyscraper look just like a lonely little girl? They called Kryptonians the descendants of gods, but as Alex held Kara under the table while the popcorn maker popped like the crumbling pieces of Kara’s old home, Alex could only think Kara was as human as any of them.Steady heart, steady hands.Steady.Steady.Steady.Her heart held steady when Kara pressed her ear to her chest to block out the world.Her hands held steady when she carried her father’s casket to his grave.It was with one steady hand that Alex carried her family through their grief, and another steady hand to throw back the liquor down her throat.When she spiraled down into the depths of a jail cell, her hands held steady as she gripped the bars with a clear threat in her eyes, daring anyone to harm her sister.Steady hands in anger, in fear, in guilt.Steady hands as she helped a boy to his oxygen mask while his father cried beside him, their broken plane diving to the depths below.Steady hands when she pulled the trigger to make her first kill.Steady hands when she traded her scalpel for a blade.Steady.Steady.Steady.In the cold, metallic belly of the DEO, her hands tremble for the first time. They falter as she clutches guilt and sorrow close to her chest. Her hands can't decide if they should wipe her own tears and turn away or offer evidence of her betrayal. They wring together helplessly as she watches Kara lash out at J’onn.He has suffered so much and lost his daughters.He can't lose another.Alex has carried many lies in her hands over the years. She carried Kara’s secret, like the blonde wasn't a supernatural deity from another planet. She carried half-finished bottles of liquor to the sink when her mother swore she was fine. She carried her diplomas like picking up her doctorates were a breeze. She carried herself as a soldier when she told her family she was a scientist and nearly carried her lies to the grave.It's the truth that makes her hands shake.It's the look of hurt and betrayal in Kara’s otherworldly blue eyes.It’s the realization she's only ever been strong when there was a lie she needed to protect.That wasn't the kind of person she wanted to be.So with trembling hands, Alex tells Kara the truth.And Kara holds her with steady hands. |
11125008 | Family IV Ash Wednesday | {
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"Rating": "General Audiences",
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} | *Rosa Vecchio grimaced at the pain in her knees. She was too old to
be kneeling all these hours, but it was necessary. The hiss of the
candles flickering in the alcove next to the altar was the only sound
in the neighborhood church. Her fingers were tight around her rosary
beads, the strands hanging down and reflecting light in all their ruby
glory. She had given Raymondo a ruby set of beads at his Confirmation.
Why was he doing this to her?
She knew why. Benton had led him astray. She wasn't sure if the Mountie
had been led astray himself. Who knew what went on up in the mysterious,
frozen North, with all those Pagan tribes and other odd things? What
if Benton was truly evil, luring her Raymondo into sin for his own demonic
purposes? She found it hard to believe. He was so kind and sweet and
polite. The first time that Raymondo had brought him home, she had commented
on his politeness. Raymondo had answered, "He's Canadian, Ma."
To him, that made it all right. She murmured her religious ritual
and thought of all the times that Benton had shared with her family.
He had been a little overwhelmed but had enjoyed his visits to the house.
He had always been welcome. His friendship had, at least at first, been
a good thing for her Raymondo. Her son had been hurt badly by his father
while growing up, through fists and mockery, and had grown cynical. Benton
had seemed to bring him back to himself, and made him a better policeman.
Or more accurately, helped him back to that good policeman he had been
years ago. So what had happened to bring about this sin? She probably
should have suspected when her son began spending large chunks of time
over at the West Racine apartment, hauling his best friend and unofficial
partner home for dinner on a frequent basis. And there were the Saturdays
and Sundays that he spent over at the Mountie's place, or home with Benton
in tow to help with a household project or to wash and wax his beloved
car. She had seen the touches on arms and shoulders and the shared looks,
and had not seen. Why had she not seen the signs then? The
Canadian was always nervous around her Francesca. Granted, her daughter
could be a bit overwhelming in her pursuit of a man, but any redblooded
normal man would have been the one pursuing Francesca, not the
other way around. She shivered and let the rosary beads slide through
her fingers as she prayed intensely. Oh, it was all an abomination. The
entire neighborhood knew! That wretched nephew of hers, Alberto Lucchesi,
had made sure of that. Her Raymondo was not only a laughingstock, but
he was in danger. Physical danger. Spiritual danger. She shivered
again.
For as much as she feared the physical danger her son was now in,
she was terrified of his spiritual danger. He was destined for hell if
he kept up this sinful relationship. What was a brief time of pleasure
(and she didn't even want to guess as to what that pleasure might be)
here on Earth if it meant an eternity in hell? Her beloved son. He
was good and kind and worth a hundred of the men in the family who did
not pay respect to their wives and mothers. The kind of men who ran down
to Fanelli's and drank whiskey and played pool while their wives
and children ate dinner alone. Her son was respectful and cared about
her and his sisters. He was a good boy. Who now lived in sin.
She took a deep breath, the acrid tang of incense tickling her nose.
She was so torn! If only she knew if Benton was good and astray or evil
incarnate. An uneasy feeling made her suspect the latter. It was if all
that politeness was what a demon would think would be 'good'. It seemed
far too good to be true! The beads slipped through her fingers as
she prayed. The muted sounds of traffic outside the church barely registered
on her consciousness. She was fighting for her son's soul. She was
uncertain of her course of action. She did not want to hurt Benton if
he was a victim. Until she knew for certain that he was not, she would
pray for him, too. She needed a sign. If he was evil, she would go to
the Consulate and file a complaint about what he was doing with an American
citizen. She would make sure he was sent back to Canada and away from
her Raymondo. Rosa closed her eyes as she recited the last of the
rosary. She would pray for a sign and then her actions would be clear.
She kissed the crucifix as she crossed herself, then laboriously rose
from the kneeler in the pew. She paused as she was leaving the pew to
gaze at the statue of the Virgin Mary as the candles flickered over her
alabaster face, then Rosa Vecchio left St. Michael's Church and went
out into the sunlight.* |
11140014 | Play Misty For Me | {
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"Category": "M/M",
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"Language": "English",
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} | Play Misty For Me
Play Misty For Me
by LdyWarrior
Disclaimer: Somebody else holds copyright on these characters, but the
story is mine and I intend entertainment not monetary gain.
Warnings: Humor, M/M implied, Fraser/Kowalski. This was written in
response to a "sappy song" challenge.
Play Misty For Me
Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski had had a very trying day. First
a witness in a murder case had decided to withdraw her testimony. Then
Lieutenant Welsh had reamed him out for not having the paperwork finished
on the bank robbery he and his unofficial partner Constable Benton Fraser
(RCMP) had solved three days earlier. Then, just as icing on the cake,
his ex-wife Stella had broken their dinner date for Friday and wouldn't
even give him a reason. All of this added to the pressure of still having
to pretend to be Detective Raymond Veccio had Ray's nerves stretched
to the breaking point. He sat at his desk with his head in his hands.
"Ray, are you alright?" The voice of his friend was tinged with concern.
Ray looked up and did his best to smile at the big Mountie, who was settling
into his accustomed chair in front of the detective's desk.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Fraser. Just havin' a bad day. Say, how come you're
in street clothes in the middle of the day?"
"The Inspector gave me the rest of the day off as a reward for my part
in solving that bank robbery. Although she did say something about wanting
me out of her sight for a while."
"Now that sounds more like the Ice Queen. Say, where's Deif?"
"He went to see Leftenant Welsh, I believe."
"Constable!" Bellowed the Lieutenant "My office, please. Detective
Veccio, you too. Now!"
When the cop and the Mountie arrived in Welsh's office they found Deifenbaker
sitting in the Lieutenant's chair. "Get him out of there, Constable.
He won't listen to me." Said Welsh.
"Deif, off!" The wolf didn't move. "Deif! Off, now!" Still the wolf
didn't move. "I'm sorry about this, sir. I don't know what's gotten
into him lately. This morning he stretched out in front of the ladies
powder room at the consulate and wouldn't let Inspector Thatcher in."
As he spoke, Fraser walked around the desk and physically removed Deif
from the lieutenant's chair.
"Constable, why are you even here?"
"Why are any of us here, sir? Oh, you mean here in your office? I believe
you called me in, sir. Ah, you mean here at the precinct!" Fraser asked
as Welsh fumed. "Well, I have the rest of the day off, and I came by
to see when Ray would be free, in case he would like to spend the afternoon
with me."
"That's an excellent idea, Constable. Take the rest of the day off,
detective, and get your friend and his wolf out of here."
"Yes sir!" Ray wasn't about to look this gift horse in the mouth. "Come
on, Frays."
"Of course, Ray. Thank you Leftenant. Good day, sir."
"It will be now." Welsh said under his breath.
On the sidewalk in front of the 27th precinct Fraser asked his friend
"So what do you want to do today, Ray?"
"I don't care. What do you want to do Marty?"
"Ray, my name is Benton, not Marty." said a rather confused Mountie.
"Jeez, I know that, Fraser. Haven't you ever seen the movie Marty?
You know, with Ernest Borgnine? It won several academy Awards." When
the Mountie continued to look confused, Ray continued "Just get in the
car, Fraser."
"Understood."
They rode in silence. Tension hung between them, and Ray didn't really
understand why, but he knew that he wanted it to end. He spotted a piano
bar, and pulled over to park in front of it. "Come on, Fraser I could
use a drink. You can sing along with the piano player, that oughta cheer
you up."
"Ray, it seems to me that you are the one in need of cheer."
"Shut up, Fraser."
"Understood."
Three hours later Ray could barely sit on his barstool, and Fraser's
vocal folds were tiring from all the singing he had done. Both were
grinning like fools, the earlier tension forgotten. The other bar patrons
were enjoying Fraser's singing and Ray's wisecracks, and the pianists'
tip jar was overflowing. A woman across the piano from the cop and Mountie
requested a song: 'Misty'. As the introductory chords sounded, Fraser
turned his gaze on his friend, and began to sing.
"Look at me, I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree."
"You, helpless, Fraser? Not likely." Remarked the weaving detective.
"Yeah, maybe you don't know your right foot from the left, I've seen
ya dance! <snort> You followin' me, that's a good one. You always
lead me into all kinds of trouble." Ray kept up a running commentary
as Fraser sang, looking into Rays' eyes all the while.
By the time the song ended, Fraser realized two things: his voice was
going to give out on him if he didn't quit singing soon, and Ray was
too inebriated to remain in public-he was definitely in danger of being
arrested for drunk and disorderly. Fraser acted with his customary decisiveness.
"Come on, Ray. Let's get you home."
"S'okay, Frays, but I think we oughta go home now."
"Of course, Ray. Anything you say."
Fraser took his friend's keys and put him in the passenger seat of the
black GTO. He drove to Ray's apartment without mishap. When they arrived,
Fraser put an arm around Ray's shoulders to support him, but was shrugged
off. "I can walk, Frays." Once he had staggered into his apartment
Ray turned to Fraser. "Hey, thanks buddy. I really didn't mean to drink
that much, ya know?"
"I know, Ray. Well, if you're alright I guess I had better be going."
"Its too far to walk to the consulate tonight, Fraser. Why doncha stay
here tonight? I'll run ya back in the morning?"
"Well, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, Ray."
"No trouble at all, Benton-buddy."
"So, what do you want to do this evening, Marty?"
"Ha ha, Fraser. Let's play some cards."
"Are you sure, Ray? You are pretty intoxicated."
"So, maybe you can win a few hands, then! Put some music on while I
get the cards."
There were already CDs in the player, so Fraser pushed the play button,
then joined Ray at the table. They played several hands of gin rummy
while listening to Ray's music. Fraser won steadily at first, but as
the alcohol worked its way out of Ray's system he began to win a few.
The dance music kept Ray distracted, however. Finally the music got
the best of him.
"I can't sit still Fraser, I gotta dance."
"Don't you need a partner, Ray?"
"I thought you were my partner, Ben. Get up and dance." Ray grabbed
Fraser's hand and pulled the bigger man to his feet. He took the Mountie
in a ballroom hold and pulled him in close as he began to dance around
the room. After a moment he rested his head on the bigger man's shoulder
and sighed.
"This is nice, Fraser. I didn't know ya could move like this."
"Well, you're easy to follow, Ray."
"Thank you." The song ended and Fraser tried to return to his chair
at the table, but Ray held him fast, waiting for the next song to begin.
Then Ray realized what the next song would be. They began to dance again.
"Ah, Ben, you played 'Misty' for me" Ray said with a dreamy expression
on his face.
"Well, no, Ray. Not purposely. The CDs were ..."
"Frays? Shut up and dance."
"Understood."
"Benton?"
"Yes, Ray?"
"Would you...sing to me?"
Willing to humor his friend, Fraser picked up the lyric at the beginning
of the next phrase. Ray sighed happily and pulled the Mountie even closer.
This time when the song ended Ray released the ballroom hold and placed
his hands on the big man's waist He stretched up on tiptoe and placed
a quick kiss on Fraser's lips. Settling back onto his heels he grinned
up at Fraser.
"Ray, you've been drinking. Perhaps you should go to bed."
"I thought you'd never ask!" The grin turned sly.
"Ray, do you know what you're saying?"
"Yeah Ben, I do. I haven't had a drink in a couple of hours; I'm sobering
up. And I know exactly what I'm sayin'. I want you, Frays. I have
for a long time."
"I thought you wanted Stella?"
"Well yeah, I still do, but she doesn't like me anymore. I think you
do."
"Yes Ray, I like you. So, you only want me until Stella changes her
mind?"
"That's not fair Ben. Ya know it's not what I mean. I notice ya haven't
pulled away from me." And to prove his point Ray pulled Benton closer
and kissed him again.
"Ray, Ray, Ray. I won't pull away from you, ever. I just needed to
know what you want in a relationship, so I know where I stand."
"Frays...Benton. I won't try to tell ya that I won't want to be with
a woman someday. I still wanna have kids, ya know? But I'd still like
to be close to you. Very close to you. As long as neither of us has
someone else, we can have each other."
"I appreciate your candor, Ray."
"What?"
"I agree." Benton said, then kissed the cop and gathered him into a
warm bear hug. "Now, what was that you said about bed?" |
11180394 | A Decade and Forever | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto",
"Fandom": "Naruto",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by Milkshake_fairy",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-12T00:00:00",
"words": "2,493",
"Additional Tags": "fluff mostly tbh, but also semi smut? idk, the uchiha husbands will be the death of me",
"Relationship": "Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto",
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} | It’s a quarter till midnight, and the messy stacks of papers piled high on Naruto’s desk haven't gotten any smaller in the past hour. He leans back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes before attempting to re-read the document in front of him, hoping to finally be able to grasp the content of the paper instead of scanning mindlessly through the large chunks of single-spaced paragraphs.The office of the 7th Hokage is dimly lit by a lamp at the corner of the table and by several cylindrical candles placed in various places around the room. With the windows left slightly open, a light breeze is flowing in, causing the curtains to wave gently and the candle flames to flicker. The peaceful ambiance of the room is not helping Naruto fight against the haze of drowsiness clouding his mind, and his head almost falls to rest against the document he’s failed to comprehend yet again when he hears the creaking of the door opening.“Sleeping on the job again,” a low, warm voice, deep and familiar, carries through the room. “Usuratonkachi.”Naruto lift his head up so quickly he as to brace himself against the desk by a surge dizziness, but the smile on his face grows wider as he meets his husbands eyes. Pushing the door closed, Sasuke walks up to the desk and moves his cloak back to reveal his left hand, along with the three large red roses clasped in it.“Happy anniversary,” he says, holding the flowers out to Naruto. The roses were in full bloom, their petals a dark red and their stems cut short, held together by a white ribbon. Naruto could smell the strong sweet fragrance permeating from the flowers even before he reaches out and takes them from his husband. He glances up at the clock. It’s midnight, which mean it’s officially the day of their anniversary, a decade since the they had gotten married. Naruto grins, warmth radiating inside his chest and thrumming though his veins as he buries his nose in the soft rose petals.“Happy anniversary,” he replies, looking up at Sasuke, the roses still pressed against his face. He can hear the tremble of emotion in his own voice. Damn Sasuke. Each year, somehow or another, he managed to catch Naruto off guard. Caught up in a particularly complicated mission, Sasuke had been away for almost two weeks and wasn’t due back until later. Two weeks was not nearly the greatest amount of time that they had spent away from each other but being apart never did get easier. Actually, it seemed to get progressively harder as the years passed, and the last two weeks had been especially taxing for Naruto. The grueling duties as a hokage were somehow even more draining without the support and presence of his husband and closest friend.Though it was their anniversary, he had not expected Sasuke to return so soon. Just this morning he had received a note from his husband saying that there was no way he could make it back to Konoha until at least three or four more days, and Naruto had wondered for a moment if Sasuke had remembered the date, though, of course, they both prioritized their shinobi duties. In retrospect, it was a stupid thought. When had Sasuke ever forgotten anything even remotely important to their relationship, much less their 10th anniversary?“Lying bastard,” Naruto mutters, standing up and meeting Sasuke at the side of the desk. He pulls him into a hug, burying his face in the crook of his husband’s neck, melding himself against the familiar warmth as the pent up tension in his body ebbs away. Strong arms wrap around his middle, pulling him closer before he feels his husband’s calloused hands reach under his shirt, resting his palms against the skin on Naruto’s waist.Sasuke turns his head to bury his nose in Naruto’s hair. “It’s called a surprise, usuratonkachi. I thought you liked surprises. Why do you smell so nice?”Naruto lifts his head, pulling away to sit on the desk behind him as Sasuke stands between his legs, his hands still lightly gripping Naruto’s waist.“Went home to eat dinner with the kids and took a bath. I thought it’d wake me up, but I havn’t been able to focus since I came back.”Naruto lifts a hand to lightly graze a new but fading bruise on Sasuke’s cheek, finally studying his husband’s appearance more closely. Pale skin, dark eyes, long dense lashes, and his sharp, defined features were set together in a beautiful yet handsome face. While Naruto had let his own hair grow out, now curling just past the top of his nape, Sasuke had cut his, the back trimmed shorter, long bangs pushed back.The bastard’s somehow getting even more attractive with age, Naruto thinks, running his fingers through his husband’s hair.“You look a lot less busted up than I was expecting you to look after a mission like this.”“Well, you look like shit,” Sasuke retorted, “When’s the last time slept more than three hours?”Lifting his hands to Naruto’s face, he traces the deep-set dark circles under Naruto’s eyes lightly with his thumbs.“It’s been hell the past few weeks with work.” And without you.Naruto does not verbalize the last sentiment, but it’s clear from the way that Sasuke catches his eyes, his expression softening, that he understands.Hands under Naruto’s knees, Sasuke slides him closer before leaning in for a kiss. First a peck on the lips before he moves up to press his lips under each of Naruto’s eyes.“Sap,” Naruto laughs, “you really missed me huh?”His laughter is cut short as Sasuke pinches his hip.“Hmm I’m about to show you just how much,” Sasuke mumbles before taking Naruto’s lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently.Naruto opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. It would be a lie to say that his whole body wasn’t screaming for Sasuke. One would think this hunger for each other would fade over the years, but it had only intensified. Their bodies had memorized each other’s completely, every scar, every mole, every weakness. They had become dependent on each other, past the mental bond and the ever growing emotional connection, there was a blazing, carnal need that persisted despite the passing years, an addiction.Naruto hears himself moan. Really, two weeks is far too long.Breaking the kiss, Sasuke presses their lips together one time before trailing light pecks along his jaw and down to the side of neck, where he starts a hickey. Wrapping his legs around Sasuke, Naruto tilts his head back, fingers entangled in his husband’s soft hair.“I’ve got work to finish,” he mumbles with no conviction, feeling the slight pain from where Sasuke is sucking shooting ripples of arousal though his body, accumulating at his groin.Standing up straight, Sasuke pushes Naruto’s legs off and walks away.“Wait what? Come back.”“I thought you just said you have work to do,” Sasuke smirks, walking to the drawers of the desk to rummage though the one on the lower left. He pulls out a small tube before walking back to a pouting Naruto and placing it beside him.“Calm down, usuratonkachi. I assume we’re going to need this?”Wrapping his legs around him once again, Naruto grins and pulls Sasuke down for a kiss. Mouths still connected, Sasuke brings one hand up to run his fingers through Naruto’s hair and hold the golden strands in a loose grip while his other hand unbuttons the orange shirt his husband’s wearing.“I’ll help you,” Sasuke murmurs, in between kisses.“Hm?”“I’ll help you with your work. Tomorrow.”Undoing the last button, Sasuke tugs Naruto’s shirt off and pulls away from his lips to suck at the base of his neck, hands now preoccupied with the unfastening Naruto’s pants.He leaves a trail of wet kisses across Naruto’s shoulder before pushing him back to lie on the desk and he pulling his pants off. He stills, hands under the other’s toned thighs as Naruto’s calves wrap loosely around Sasuke hips, to observe his husband, to take in the sight that he knows so well but can never quite get used to.Sasuke’s eyes roam over the golden blond hair, thick yet soft, clear blue eyes that changed shades slightly depending on Naruto’s mood, now a darker hue, and the expanse of bronzed skin, spanning over the long, lean, and toned body.It had been years, a lifetime, of knowing this man. He had watched Naruto grow, mature, evolve, yet keep the same beautiful heart he had always had as he became the legend he is today. Sasuke had loved him each step of the way, more and more. He still regretted how much time he had spent running from his own feelings, denying something that he knew in his core perhaps from the very moment he and Naruto had met, the bond he had tried over and over again to destroy but failed. Thank God he had failed.Naruto was staring up at him now, eyes burning into Sasuke’s own, filled with lust, love, and slight confusion at Sasuke’s hesitancy.Lifting Naruto’s legs up, Sasuke rests the back of his husband’s knees on his shoulders and starts a trail of kisses down his inner thigh.For all the time he spent hurting Naruto, hiding from his love and hiding his own love, Sasuke would spend the rest of his life balancing it out, pouring out his heart and soul into this bond that saved him, this man that went against the world for him. It was not a debt that he could ever really pay back, but he had vowed to try for as long as he lived since the day he slipped a golden ring on to Naruto’s finger.He reaches the joint of Naruto’s thigh and sucks gently on the tender skin, biting down softly as he feels Naruto squirm beneath him before moving to start another hickey close to his member.Sasuke hears a sharp intake of breath before his husband’s hand fists into hair.“Why are you being so slow?” Naruto’s voice is slightly strained, fighting back his moans.Hands wrapped around both of his husband’s thighs, Sasuke pushes them further part before kissing the hickey he just finished creating and rising up to smirk at Naruto.“I was trying to take some time building things up. Forgot patience isn’t your thing, usuratonkachi.”***********************************************************************************************More than two hours later, they’re lying naked on the worn yet comfortable couch in the corner of the office, Naruto asleep on top of Sasuke, covered with Sasuke’s cloak.Massaging the tips of his fingers on Naruto’s scalp, Sasuke watches the slow rise and fall of his back, mind wondering once again.He couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with Naruto. There was always some sort of pull towards the blond, a call from his very soul that yearned to reach out to Naruto’s. Perhaps he had been in love before he knew what love even meant, before his mind could begin to process the depth of his emotions. His body, heart, and soul knew before his brain did, and they guided him.Sasuke recalls the battle with Haku, and how his own body had moved instinctively to save Naruto. Some part of his soul knew, with absolute certainly, that he wouldn’t, couldn’t, live in a world without this person, this boy that held the sun in his heart, that shone light into every dark crevice of Sasuke’s existence.If there was such thing as a soulmate then Naruto was Sasuke’s, and if there was a such thing as a God then Sasuke thanked him with every fiber of his being for making it so.Naruto shifts in Sasuke’s arms, pulling him out of his thoughts and nuzzling into his neck.“Shit, what time is it?” Naruto’s voice is rough with sleep.“Almost three in the morning.”Groaning, Naruto moves to fold his arms on Sasuke’s chest, propping himself up.“So we’re spending the night here?” He leans forward to press his lips against Sasuke’s.“We’ll go back home before the kids wake up.”Naruto nods and then winces. “Fuck, you bastard. I’m sore in literally every part of my body.”Sasuke rubs gentle circles on his husband’s hips, imagining the bruises from his fingers that would’ve appeared there and the amount of hickeys and scratches that now covered Naruto’s caramel skin.“Who was it that was screaming for me to go faster a little while ago? You better hope no one else was in or around this building.”Dropping his head in Sasuke’s chest, Naruto touches the bruises blooming on his own neck.“Ugh, I have to find someway to hide these again. You and your stupid need to put lovebites in places people can see, and some of those people happen to be our young children.”Sasuke shifts to gently slide Naruto off of him before propping himself up on one elbow to look down at his husband.“Oh yeah?.” He tilts his head back and points at his own neck. “What about these?”Grinning, Naruto studies the series of hickeys scattered across Sasuke’s neck and collar, decorating the pale skin with red, pink, and purple.“I was just trying to get back at you. We can call it even now,” he laughs.Sasuke rolls his eyes before leaning down to kiss Naruto’s forehead. He moves off the couch to stand, hearing the other whine and grab at his arms.“Give me second.”Naruto has a clear view of Sasuke’s muscular back as he walks towards his discarded clothes lying on the floor near the desk. Heat rises to his cheeks and ears as he observes the angry red scratches covering the fair skin on his husband’s back. I need to cut my nails more often, he thinks, pushing his face into a pillow cushion.“Hey.”Sasuke’s voice prompts Naruto to lift his head, sitting up in surprise when he sees his husband kneeling in front of the couch with a small box in his hand.There are so many things Sasuke wants to tell Naruto, so emotions he wants to express, so many thoughts he needs to convey, but he’s never been good with words. Luckily, his better half has always understood him, read his heart more clearly than he himself could.Naruto is looking down at him now, eyes filled with surprise and affection, staring straight through Sasuke’s entire being like he always does, with a smile on his lips.Opening the box and lifting it towards his husband, watching as his blue eyes fall on the platinum ring inside it, Sasuke clears his throat and opens his mouth to speak.“Uchiha-Uzumaki Naruto, please let me stay by your side for the rest of my life.” |
11105310 | of diana remembrance | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Diana (Wonder Woman), Antiope (Wonder Woman), Steve Trevor",
"Fandom": "Wonder Woman (2017)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by orphan_account",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-05T00:00:00",
"words": "424",
"Additional Tags": "i don't know what this is?, diana has lost so much, and of course memories go too eventually, this is just me getting a feel for future fics, hit me up with replies?",
"Relationship": null,
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"Relationships": "Diana (Wonder Woman)/Steve Trevor, kind of? a little?",
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} | It happens gradually. First Diana cannot quite pinpoint the shade of blue of the ocean. She doesn’t even realize it until she wakes from a dream of a faded Themyscira, panting and too-hot and with covers twisted around her legs. She spends weeks poring over color charts and goes to bed with her eyes burning and mind spinning with loss. There’s no color just as vibrant as the waters she had spent countless hours in her chidlhood staring out at but–The next realization comes in her favorite coffee shop, the one with all of the pillows and cushions piled up in the corner by the window, the one that had stained all of her clothes with the unrelenting scent of coffee grounds. There’s a new barista behind the counter on a late Thursday night, all long legs and wavy hair of spun gold, and, as she stops short at the door, Diana’s lips part and begin to shape the syllables of her mother’s name. When the woman turns to softly place a mug in front of a stooped, grizzly old man, revealing a spattering of freckles and with the wrong eye color, something inside of Diana snaps. As she turns, shoving the door back open with her shoulder, the wood acquires a new, matching crack.Diana spends an eternity mourning Steve, the first man she’d ever met, the above-average specimen, the human who she had seen explode high in the night sky, the man she’d danced with beneath strange, white, falling specks. There is no one in her world who knows the ringing of arrows blocked by shields built of elements unknown to common scientists. There is no one alive to help her remember the shade of the water or the sky or the waterfalls around her home, and that is because she is the lone Amazon outside. That is because her mop-haired spy, the only human ever to survive Themyscira, had died with the last of Ares’ influence. It happens gradually.Her mother’s voice fades from her memory, as does the feel of the ground beneath her feet and the clang of the general’s sword upon hers. The ocean is different outside; all seaweed-y and brackish and cold. And, with glasses of tasteless coffee raised to her lips, Diana has to remember that her legacy within her people is not of Godkiller. It is one of abandonment and of the queen’s greatest sorrow. They both share the loss, Diana and Themyscira–and no amount of glory and faded pictures can heal that. |
11141361 | Loneliness | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
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"Fandom": "due South",
"Language": "English",
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"author": "by veronamay",
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"Relationship": "Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski",
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} | Loneliness
Loneliness
by Sel
Author's disclaimer: Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately. But they're on my shopping list when I finally make it to Canada ... No harm is intended, this is a work of fiction, don't even bother suing me because I'm so broke it's way beyond funny.
Author's notes: No spoilers, but set roughly after MotB, timewise. Also note: //thoughts// and *emphasis*
So I'm alone in my apartment after work one night, as per usual. Dinner's
done, and I'm winding down, got some Billie Holiday on the stereo. I'm
dancin' a little slow, lost in the music, feeling the tension drain away.
Wishing I wasn't so alone. Wishin' Fraser was here with me.
Then there's this polite tap on my door and I know, I just *know* that
it's him. Nobody else knocks like Fraser. I turn off the music and open
the door.
"Hey, Frase. Whassup?" I ask, leaning against the door, trying to ignore
his gorgeousness for the millionth time. He looks a little lost, and
more than a little nervous.
"Er - hello, Ray," he begins. "I - ah ... I'm sorry to interrupt your
evening like this, but ..."
He stops, flushing red, and looks at his feet. It's such a cute picture
that I have to take a step back and order my hormones down. Then I take
a closer look at him. It hits me like a rock between the eyes.
//He's lonely.//
It's in every line of his body. I can see it in his eyes, in his hands,
even the way he hesitates on the balls of his feet, like he's ready to
leave in a second. So I'm careful with him.
"Come on in," I say, stepping back to let him pass. He stands just inside
the door, holding his hat, looking everywhere but at me.
"You're feelin' it too tonight, huh?" He looks at me, his frown puzzled.
"The loneliness," I clarify. He pauses as it hits home, then his eyes
widen.
"No - that is, not exactly ... I mean ..." he stutters quickly, then
closes his eyes and takes a breath. "Yes." When he opens them again the
doors inside him are wide open, letting me in. "I don't want to spend
another night alone."
//Yes.// I let myself revel for one moment. I've gotten to him, gotten
under his skin, made him see what he's been missing out on. Now I need
to shock him the rest of the way out.
I take a step closer, then another, moving slowly so I don't startle
him. He watches me, his face unsure, like he's expecting me to lay him
out on the floor or something. I wait till the silence is stretched so
thin it's screaming over every nerve. Then I smile at him and take the
plunge I've been planning for almost a year.
"You don't have to be alone, Fraser. I'm here. I'll be with you." He
starts to speak, to say what I don't know. But I talk over him. "I need
you, too. I love you. I want you all over me, any way, any time you want."
I wince as the words echo off the walls. Guess I spoke 'em a little louder
than I'd meant to. But at least I finally got his attention. In fact,
it looks like I actually managed to shut him up for once. Good call.
But he stays like that for the longest time, not sayin' a word, just
starin' at me with those blue eyes like I've grown another head. I'm
waitin' for him to react somehow, and the tension's thicker than his
skull must be, and I'm gettin' more and more edgy. And still he just
keeps on starin'.
"Hello. Are you in there?" I wave a hand in front of his face, and he
blinks. "Ground control to Fraser, you copy?"
He's back with me now, and he blushes red, ashamed of zoning out like
that. But I don't mind. 'Cause while he was starin', he had this look
in his eyes that I've never seen on him. Like I'd just offered him somethin'
he's always wanted but never thought he'd get. Yeah, like that. So I
don't mind that he hasn't answered me. The look on his face says just
about everything I need to know.
Still, I can't help teasing him a bit. "You operatin' on all cylinders,
Frase?" I ask wickedly, turning my grin on him. "Thought maybe you didn't
hear what I just told ya." I step in close to him, close enough to feel
the incredible heat of him, close enough to realise he's not standin'
there stiff as a post because he's angry, or afraid. It's 'cause he's
tryin' to keep control, for my sake. I can read it in his face, in the
way he's holding himself so straight and still. Body language. He's trembling
with the effort, and that makes me hotter than I think I've ever been.
I lean in closer still, not touching him, but invading his personal space
in a big way. He twitches, just once, when I put my mouth up near his
ear. Then I whisper the words again.
"I love you, Ben. I love you so bad it hurts. And I want you to fuck
me. Right here, right now, and your noble Mountie virtues be damned."
He's still for maybe two more seconds. Then suddenly, all at once he's
grabbing me and throwing me against the wall, holding me there with the
weight of his legs, and he's kissin' me like I'm the air he needs to
breathe. It's wild and desperate and very, very hot. I'm already on the
verge of coming in my jeans, and we've barely even started.
"Ray," he mutters, his mouth on my skin, his breath burning me. "Ray
..."
I know what he's sayin'. I know he can't tell me, that it's hard for
him. But that doesn't matter, 'cause he feels it, and that's what's important.
Him and me, together. It's like my dreams. Better, even. And now it's
real.
Suddenly I can't get close enough. He's pushing me against the wall,
covering me everywhere, but I need more. I need all of him, and I don't
wanna wait any more.
"Fuck me, Ben," I breathe. "Make me yours."
He growls low in his throat and straightens up, pulling me with him as
he heads for the bedroom. Once we get there he doesn't even pause, just
falls straight onto the bed and brings me down on top of him. I don't
get the chance to speak before he yanks my T-shirt off over my head and
tosses it aside. Then his hands are on my skin and his tongue's back
in my mouth and I'm not thinking about anything except his touch and
his taste and oh, God yeah, right *there* ...
Somehow I manage to draw back long enough to help us both get naked.
He takes a little longer than me - hell, all the stuff he wears should
come with instructions - so while he's unstrapping and unbuttoning I'm
rummaging in the nightstand for lube and condoms. I'd felt stupid putting
them there a few months ago. Now I'm glad I did. I sneak a glance at
Ben, shirtless, working on the laces of his boots. *Very* glad.
He's beautiful. So absolutely drop-dead betray-your-mother-in-a-split-second
gorgeous that for a second I just get stuck looking at him. All that
pale skin, those smoothly shifting muscles. All that strength and gentleness
combined in a dark-haired, blue-eyed package that should be illegal.
All *mine*.
I reach out, put a finger to the skin of his back, and he trembles in
response. Just from that light touch. It blows my mind. I move closer
to him and wrap my arms around him, leaning into his warmth and pressing
a kiss to his neck. He shudders and drags off his last boot roughly,
stripping off socks, pants and underwear in record time. Then he turns
around and looks at me, and right there I know I'm in a world of trouble.
He's riled up, on the edge, and it'll only take a fingertip to push him
over.
I grin suggestively. "Are you warmed up yet?" I ask. "Or do ya wanna
play around a little more-"
He cuts off my words with a kiss so hungry I feel like he's trying to
eat me alive. Maybe he is, in a way. I get the feeling nobody's ever
really loved Ben the way he deserves. I figure it's up to me to change
that. I can't think of anything I'd rather do.
"Love you, Ben," I tell him again. He's gotta get used to hearin' it.
"Love you so much ..."
That does it. He's gone. He pushes me down onto my back and pretty much
attacks me, licking and sucking and hell, even biting, any part of me
he can. His hands are everywhere, on my chest, my hips, in my hair -
then he brushes against my cock and everything narrows down to that single
sensation. I'm arching off the bed, begging for more, and he's slipping
down my body, licking a path from my mouth to my cock, raising gooseflesh
along the way. Then he's got me in his mouth and he's sucking hard and
strong and it's like nothing, but *nothing* has ever felt this good.
Not even with Stella.
"Ben ..." I moan, fisting my hands in his hair, trying to drive myself
deeper into his mouth even though he's already taken all of me. He just
sucks harder, using his teeth to rake over the length of my cock, drawing
back until just the tip is inside his mouth, his tongue swirling over
the head, his clever fingers cupping my balls, rubbing in that spot behind
them, *there*, oh yeah, his mouth claiming my cock again as his hands
move back further, finding the opening between my ass cheeks and stroking
it softly as he sucks me and it's more than I can stand ...
I'm coming in a blinding rush, harder than I can ever remember, and he's
taking it, swallowing every last drop until I'm done, collapsed into
a heap on the bed.
"Are you all right, Ray?" he asks, polite as you please, like I've just
stubbed my toe or somethin'. I can't answer. I can't even remember my
own name, much less try to tell him how goddamn *amazing* I feel. Because
of him. So I just reach up a shaky arm and pull him down for another
kiss, tryin' to tell him in a different way.
A few minutes later I've got my breath back and I'm seein' that Ben's
still hard as a rock. He's gotta be hurtin', but he's not sayin' a word.
He's makin' sure *I'm* happy, like he always does for the people he cares
about. That breaks my heart and makes me feel ten feet tall at the same
time. 'Cause I know he cares about me enough to ignore what he wants
- what he *needs*, even - to be certain I'm satisfied.
But I'm not satisfied. I'm not even close. I feel an ache inside me,
and he's the only one who can fix it. He's the only one I *want* to fix
it.
"Benny." He looks at me, his eyes burning, so focused on me the apartment
could be on fire and he'd never notice. "I want you inside me."
He gets even more intense, if that's possible, and does the still thing
again. "Are you sure?" he says quietly. Givin' me another chance to back
out. Even though I know he needs this more than anythin' he's ever needed
before. Even though I still want him so bad I'm dyin' inside.
I twist on the bed and pick up the lube and condom. "Yeah. I'm sure."
I lay a hand on his cheek. "I hurt, Ben. I need you to make the ache
go away."
He draws in a quick, shuddering breath, his eyes flaring deep blue, almost
glowing. Then he's putting the condom and lube on, coating his fingers
as well and reaching down between my legs again. I try to reach for him,
to bring him down on me, but he warns me off.
"Don't. Don't touch me right now." He's almost growling, and it thrills
me. "If you touch me now I'm going to lose it, and I don't want to hurt
you."
Those words make me melt. He's probing with his slick fingers, easing
inside me, stretching and rubbing and it feels so good I don't ever want
it to stop. I'm thrusting against his hand, trying to take more, but
he holds back until I'm goin' crazy with need.
"Ben - damn it, I need you *now*," I moan, hauling him down on me. I
grab his head and kiss him wildly, stroking his cock, trying to break
that goddamn iron control that holds him in - and then he's out of it,
shoving a pillow under my hips, pulling my legs apart and plunging in
hard, till he's in all the way and we're groaning together in mingled
pleasure-pain and I'm feeling so full of him we're almost the same person.
Then he starts to move, slow and deep, hitting *that* spot with every
stroke, and before I know it I'm writhing under him, my cock hard again,
drawing my legs up to hold him deep inside as he thrusts and thrusts
and thrusts till I can't stand it anymore. I throw my head back, rake
my short nails over his shoulders and scream ...
When the world starts spinning again I realise he's still inside me,
collapsed on top of me like he's dead or somethin'. I wrap my arms around
him and lick the sweat from his shoulder. Our hearts are racing like
crazy, but I feel - boneless. Lazy. Completely happy for the first time
in years.
Eventually we recover enough to separate and clean up. Then we climb
back into bed and cuddle, my head on Ben's chest, arms and legs tangled
together. It feels good. It feels *right*.
"So, Benny," I say lazily, stifling a yawn. "What was it you wanted to
talk to me about?"
He chuckles softly, deep in his chest, and pulls me closer. "You know,
Ray," he replies, "I don't have the faintest idea."
THE END |
11100561 | Homesick | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Herbert Pocket, Pip",
"Fandom": "Great Expectations - Charles Dickens",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by generally_happy_person",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-05T00:00:00",
"words": "596",
"Additional Tags": "Just wearing towel, Could have been smut but I avoided it, Pip is so closeted Im supprised he hasn't reached Narnia, Kind of for school, Tea",
"Relationship": "Philip Pirrip/Herbert Pocket",
"Character": null,
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} | The door creaked loudly as I rapped my knuckles against it, the dark mysterious grey wood. The sky ominously looked down on me, like I was about to make a terrible decision. Which knowing me, I probably was. The white marble pillars crowded me, bullying me on my marathon to the door. After too long, the door opened and the sky gave a sigh of regret as I fully committed myself to this question I was about to ask my dear friend.Pip stood before me; his obsidian hair darker than usual as it was obvious he had just gotten out the bath, as a dark red towel was wrapped tightly around his torso, long enough to cover everything until it reached his thighs, where it abruptly stopped and his bare legs were exposed to the world outside.“May I come in?” I spluttered out, amazed about his comfort around me even though he was only wearing a towel. He looked at me with his murky greenish-brownish eyes, which reminded me of what he told me about the marshes he grew up on. He bit his lip, obviously embarrassed for his almost-nudity.“Yes, of course you can.” Handel replied, pretending to be more casual then he actually was. He stepped backwards as to give me space to walk past, very aware of the coldness of the icy, unforgiving tiles beneath his bare feet.I stepped through the door, my arm accidentally brushing against the wet towel that covered not very much of him, and I could feel the warm heat that his body emitted from beneath the towel. It was now I noticed how close we were, our faces two to three inches away from each other, I could feel his warm breath against my left cheek, which reminded me of the winds of Egypt that I had felt on my previous job before I got homesick. I had missed Handel so very much, and now I was only a few inches away from him.I then realized he may not have missed the closeness as much as he had and I quickly stepped past him and gave an awkward smile as I sat down on his green velvet sofa.“Just a minute…” He called as he jogged past me and into the second door to the left, “… I’ll be with you in a second; I just need to get changed.”I waited for only a few minutes after then he stepped out of the door and headed towards where I was sitting. He looked like perfection personified, sure, his hair was still damp from the bath, but he still managed to look perfect, with is neatly ironed white shirt and a dark pinkish-red waistcoat over the top.“Jolly gosh, you managed to get dressed quickly, my dear Handel!” I said as my eyes searched for any droplets of water or exposed skin.He gave a small laugh at my amazement and replied “I haven’t seen you in quite some time, not since you left for Egypt, so I believe we’ve got some catching up to do. Would you like a cup of tea and then shall we talk?”“That seems like quite the good idea. And after that, may I propose we go out to town? I believe a new shop has opened and I hope to visit before my untimely death.”“Oh why would you joke about such grim prospects! But I like your plan, we shall go after tea.”“Because tea always comes first.” I say, very much looking forward to the tea. |
11160924 | Day 1 Vows | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Midorima Shintarou, Takao Kazunari",
"Fandom": "Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by ShadoWolf55 (orphan_account)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-10T00:00:00",
"words": "3,437",
"Additional Tags": "midotaka - Freeform, MidoTaka Week 2017",
"Relationship": "Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari",
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} | I, Midorima Shintarou,
Midorima Shintarou, a person of tradition and culture yet represents the new age of medicine. A renowned surgeon and saviour of hundreds and thousands of lives, he was one of the richest people in Japan, just second to CEO Philanthropist Akashi Seijuro. He could have anything he wanted, have any woman he wished to marry, live his life with anyone he wanted. However, despite the many requests for marriage by ladies from noble families, he had turned them all down, claiming he already belonged to someone else.
take you Takao Kazunari,
Takao Kazunari was an ordinary man from an ordinary family. He was the leader and lead vocalist of a famous band in Japan, having written many songs to convey his ideals and feelings along with his other band members. He was constantly surrounded by fangirls wanting to date him, give him presents, blow him kisses. Yet, he rejected each and every one of them, the words “I already have a boyfriend” hanging on his mouth.
to be my husband,
Who cares if their relationship had stumbled so many time within their 10 years of love? Who cares if they had met so many thunderstorms the whole time? It mattered no more as they stood proud and happy before a small crowd of family and friends, fingers interlocked together and a small smile plastered on their faces.
my partner in life
It all started in High School when they played for the same basketball team. One was the Miracle Ace, the other the Hawkeyed Shadow. Pass after pass, shot after shot, their bond grew as the days passed by. By then, it was common to see a black haired boy cycling a rickshaw with a green haired boy in the cart. It was common to see a 195cm giant and a 176cm regular boy carrying a huge statue through the front gate. It was common to see an obnoxious boy bothering a studious one. Their habits, their personalities, their daily rituals have all become a part of the other like they were meant to.
and my one true love.
Midorima had been in a relationship before and it wasn’t really much of a secret. Everyone from Teiko knew how he and Akashi were a package. Not only were they Captain and Vice-Captain of the Teiko Basketball Team, both held a close and special bond that only broke when they graduated from Junior High. Takao, on the other hand, had dated a couple of girls in Junior and High School before his get-together with Midorima. The greenhead had watched Takao dealt with breakups, surprise dates and a whole range of other activities he didn’t really care about. All he cared was that Takao was smiling more than he usually did and that Takao did not seem to be on the side of the fence he was on.
I will cherish our union
“Takao, I… I just wish to tell you that…”
He threw his arms over the shorter boy’s shoulders and pulled him closer to his chest. He could feel the boy’s heaving breathing against his own, not the heavy ones like after training but neither was it light like those after a short jog. Softly, he whispered over the deafening sound of his heartbeat banging wildly against his chest.
“I love you.”
He noticed how the boy had stiffened in his grip and suddenly let go, afraid he had made a wrong move, proclaimed his love to the wrong boy at the wrong timing. He slowly backed away and set off into a sprint as he covered his face in shame.
He watched as he phone vibrated and more messages streamed in. Ever since last night, Takao had been messaging him relentlessly and calling him every hour. Midorima did not know what to do, he could not face Takao, neither did he find the resolve to talk to his best friend. He switched his phone to silent mode, grabbed his bag and left earlier than usual for school. He simply had not yet found the courage to meet the hawk-eyed boy, not after whatever he had said yesterday.
“Shin-chan, stop avoiding me. We need to talk.” Takao had grabbed his shoulder when he tried to leave his classroom for physical education lessons.
“...”
“Shin-chan, can we at least talk? Could you meet me at the rooftop during lunch?”
“... Ok…” Midorima wondered what he should expect. Should he prepare his heart for a rejection? Or should he get his hopes up that maybe Takao liked him back? His mind was running wild with thoughts that had never occurred to him in the past years, so much that he could not focus during the remaining lessons.
and love you more each day than I did the day before.
“Shin-chan, you’re here!” Takao had chirped happily as Midorima pushed open the door to the school’s rooftop. For a second, Midorima wondered that was just a false front to an impending rejection.
“I… I thought about what you said, the whole of last night. I wanted to know why you didn’t reply my text messages or calls.”
“...”
“Shin-chan, I-I was worried.”
Midorima arched an eyebrow. Could it be?
“I was worried that I did something wrong because,” Takao had ran forward towards him, pulling the giant closer until they shared the same oxygen, “because I love you too, Shin-chan.”
The greenhead was caught off guard and he fell onto the ground, his hands tightly gripping onto the railings as he felt a soft pair of lips on his own. Takao had held his hands captive above his green hair and was cautiously sucking Midorima’s lower lip. Stoic as he was, Midorima Shintarou had no idea how to respond to that, if he should kiss back, push Takao away or simply just stay where he was given that his brain most likely short-circuited when Takao had caressed his face.
“So do I.”
I will trust you
Midorima swore he had specifically mentioned a point about ‘secrecy’ to Takao when discussing their relationship, about how no one else should know about them. He had even warned Takao not to say anything about what happened on the rooftop but somehow, Kise had found out about it and was harboring his former teammate about it.
“Shut up Kise, Takao and I are not together.”
“Ehhh?? But you guys kissed???” Kise sipped his coffee as he sat opposite Midorima in a restaurant near his modelling studio. Instantly, Midorima’s face fell. What on earth had Takao told Kise?
“Shut up Kise, that never happened.” Midorima pushed up his glasses to hide a growing blush on his face. “Whatever, Midorimacchi~”
and respect you,
“Nice shot Shin-chan!” A soft pat on his back and a fist stretched out towards him. “Uh… that was a nice pass…” “Shin-chan, you have to sound more appreciative!!” “Shut up.” He hated it, he didn’t really enjoy physical contact but nevertheless, he returned the fistbump despite a scowl on his face.
“Shin-chan, did you know I’ve always admired you?” “You told me that story 13 times already, what more do you want?” The giant retorted with clear annoyance. “I want you to say thank you.” “Than-”
“TAKAO! THROW IN THE BALL!!” Their captain had yelled at them, “FOCUS ON THE GAME!” They were playing Rakuzan, no chance to let their guard down, not when Akashi was guarding Takao and their difference in skill was starkly clear.
Yet another steal from Takao and the latter made for a fast break. Midorima wondered whether Akashi was toying with them but put the matter into the back of his mind when the ravenhead yelled his name.
“Shin-chan!”
With a click of his tongue, Midorima ran up to receive the ball and shot it before the other members had caught up. The ball fell in through the hoop like he always did, without grazing the rim and landing on the ground with a loud thud.
“Such a beautiful shot, Shin-chan”
laugh with you
They were leading in the second quarter. Not much of a surprise since Akashi had only played a minor role the entire time. They were leading because of Shutoku’s Light and Shadow, impressively accurate passes and flawless shots. Midorima watched as Takao burst out into laughter over certain events during the match and let a small smile creep up his face.
and cry with you,
“It’s really frustrating… losing…” He had no idea why, they had trained so much, put in so much effort but in the end, they were just playing right into the hands of Akashi, losing by a considerable large margin. If not for his 3 pointers, they would have surely lost by half the points achieved by Rakuzan. Was this meant to show the huge skill difference between the two elite schools?
“Shin-chan…” The team had left before them to watch the Seirin-Kaijo match, leaving the two first years alone in the locker room. “Hey, it’s okay Shin-chan, you did your best.” Midorima swore he felt tears streaming down his face as his vision blurred and a faint saltiness was present in his mouth. Oh damn, he never intended to cry in front of Takao. What would Takao think of him now?
He pulled his shirt higher to wipe off the tears as he felt warm arms on his waist and a soft peck on his cheek. “Don’t cry Shin-chan, it hurts me to see you cry.”
loving you faithfully
“Let’s go, Takao.” A phrase that stuck to his lips no matter how much he found Takao annoying, no matter how much he found the obnoxious boy irritating, he never seemed to get rid of those few words. Takao always replied with a grin and let his hands slide to the back of his head with his bag slung casually on his shoulder.
through good times and bad,
“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.” Takao pouted as he sat on Midorima’s bed and the giant glared at the disappointed boy.
“I do not have a girlfriend.” He pushed up his glasses with his taped fingers. What was this false accusation all about? He had never made out with anyone, never had feelings for anyone so what on earth was Takao talking about?
Takao had whipped out his phone and was scrolling through what seemed to be a long list of items before finally turning the screen for Midorima to examine the contents. “Then who is this girl?” For a moment, Midorima felt sick and disgusted.
“THAT’S MY SISTER, BAKAO! GET OFF MY BED!!”
[“Oh yah, you two look the same…”]
regardless of the obstacles we may face together.
“I can’t keep this up! Do you understand? Shin-chan, not everyone can deal with you!” Takao was yelling, exasperated as his flung his Captain armband to the ground and bit his lip, turning to face the wall.
“I’m sorry I caused you trouble.” The accused had muttered quietly. Truth was, what Takao said had broken his heart because no matter how gentle Takao made it sound like, he still sounded like a breakup to the stoic Ace-shooter. He felt a tear drop escape and drip down his face. Dammit, why was he even crying? Swiftly, he opened the door and left to avoid causing anymore trouble. So Takao found him a bother… huh…? More teardrops fell and he felt his heart wrenching up, like cold hands grabbing it in a death grip. Before he could leave the house, Takao ran out and held him back.
“Ok, I’m sorry Shin-chan. I was just stressed, you did nothing wrong. I love you, Shintarou.” The familiar arms had wrapped itself around Midorima’s waist and something nuzzling his back. Midorima stood still, right hand still holding onto the doorknob until he finally let go and turned to look at Takao.
“I’m glad, Takao. I’m glad you still love me. I promise to be better to you.”
X-X-X
I vow to never forget that this is a once in a lifetime love.
Maybe this is what love is, just a lie, a cover up for the entire true story. Maybe this is what love is. A burden.
Age 20, young with a bright future, Midorima Shintarou found himself facing a situation he never imagined he would have to undergo. Either break up with Takao or give up studying Medicine overseas. There was always the other option of long-distance relationship but he didn’t even want to try that option.
“Shin-chan, I’m okay. You can… You can go to Europe to study. I’ll wait till you come back…” Takao was struggling to keep himself together ever since Midorima had told him of his plans. Takao already had a job as a part-time guitarist in a local band which paid enough for him to get by. Midorima, on the other hand, had spent his years in college taking course after course so as to achieve a scholarship to a reputable University of Medicine in Europe.
“Takao, are you sure? I can forgo this, the university in Tokyo is willing to accept me.” Midorima did not want to risk his relationship with Takao just because of someone scholarship offer.
“I’m sure. Chase your dreams, Shin-chan. I’ll be here when you come back.”
I vow to love you,
Being an overseas scholar was not as easy as Midorima thought. He had to leave 2 weeks earlier to get himself familiarise with the place so that he would waste no time when the school term started. The door to the room opened and to his utmost surprise and horror, seated on the couch in front of the television was a familiar red head, dressed in casual clothes watching a basketball match.
“A-Akashi?” His lips had trembled when he blurted that once familiar name. “Oh, Midorima, I never expected to see you here. I see we are roommates huh?” It had been a while since they had met, ever since Shutoku defeated Rakuzan in their third year and a mini gathering to celebrate Midorima’s victory.
The idea of being alone with his ex-boyfriend was haunting to him. He already had Takao, he wondered why fate was playing with him. It was as if he was forced to choose between Akashi and Takao or have none. Truth was, despite whatever that happened in Teiko, Midorima still harboured some, if not little feelings for Akashi. His charm and intelligence simply could not be compared to anyone else.
and no matter what challenges might carry us apart,
“Takao, I… I need to tell you something.” Midorima had flown back to Japan once his first year there was over. It had been fruitful in many way, lessons were killing him, he barely had a breather and even if he could, someone was stealing away his time.
Takao felt his heart tremble in anxiety as he looked up at his boyfriend who had put his book down on the bed.
“I… I… Akashi and I… We…”
Flashes of horror and disbelief made its way onto Takao’s face. He wanted to believe that this was not happening. No fucking way did Akashi squeeze his way into his Shin-chan’s love life!
“We sort of made out… I… I… didn’t really want to but…”
“Shin-chan.” Takao was trembling and he was on the verge of breaking. Who was Akashi to touch Shin-chan with his filthy, money-touching hands? “Shin-chan, don’t tell me you… k-kissed him…?”
“I-I’m sorry Takao. Hey, Takao wait!” Midorima got off his seat and ran to catch up to Takao but the latter had already sprinted off. “Oh god, I love you Takao. I still do. Why is this all happening…”
we will always find a way back to each other.
It has been 36 months since that incident and Midorima had just completed his Medicine course and was on the plane back to Japan. He had asked Kuroko for help to find Takao but the hawkeye was nowhere to be found. He had even consulted Takao’s former bandmates but none of them knew where their lead guitarist had disappeared of to. He wanted to grab Takao and pull him close to his chest, muttering apologies and ‘I love you’s before kissing the man he loved.
He wanted Takao to know that he broken up with Akashi, asked for a change of roommate as soon as the term started and strayed as far from the redhead and any other student as possible, that he never kissed another boy or girl, that he never had feelings for anyone else other than Takao.
He searched the entire Tokyo for Takao, calling up his contacts, contacting his former Shutoku teammates but it left him empty-handed. Just like that, Takao had vanished from his life. Midorima could feel himself breaking down day by day till the point he took a week’s leave from the hospital he was interning at, claiming to feel unwell and in need of a short break. He found it hard to believe that after what he went through with Takao, the latter would just leave like this. Every morning he woke up in bed, he would turn to his right and see Takao there before reality sunk in and all he saw was empty sheets and nothing more. He never smiled again or rather, he couldn’t smile anymore. Only Takao could ever make him smile, no matter how small that heartfelt smile was.
From this day onwards,
In the distance, he saw a man with black locks and a gray jacket. Shoulders slumped, hands in his pocket as the man looked up into the sky, muttering a few word before looking back onto the ground.
Midorima thought the guy looked strangely familiar, like it was…
Takao.
Oh god, Takao I missed you.
He ran up to the guy and tapped his shoulder just to be sure. Before him was those beautiful blue eyes he had fallen in love with, that flawless face and soft lips and bangs that needed to be cut.
“Takao.”
I give you my hand,
His heart skipped a beat when he heard someone calling his name. He felt someone touch his shoulder and turned around to come face to face with a tall, green haired giant who taped his left fingers and wore black glasses.
“Shin-chan. It’s been a while.”
“Takao, why… why did you run away from me for so long…” He felt Shin-chan’s breathing against his forehead. He never realised how much panic and worry he had caused his lover until that very moment. “I was searching for you… for 4 years… Takao…” Shin-chan gripped his hand tightly, interlocking their fingers before sending a kiss to his forehead. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”
my heart,
“Shin-chan I…”
“I’m sorry I hurt you…” Takao felt Shin-chan’s warm breathing against his ears. “Shin-chan, stop apologising. You are killing me. I should apologise for disappearing for 4 years. I’m sorry Shin-chan, I love you. I love you very much and I still do. I’m just glad we found each other.”
and my love,
“Takao,” he got down on his knees and pulled out a box, “Takao Kazunari, will you marry me?”
till death do us apart.
A swift grab of his wrist and familiar lips on his own was all the confirmation he needed as he hung his hand on Takao’s neck, taking the man along with him into the darkness. That very moment, the first snow touched the ground and Midorima pulled Takao closer to him. He had been waiting for this day.
“I vow to-”
“Shin-chan, stop. Stop. You are making me cry, if you make your groom cry how am I supposed to say my vows?” Takao was half-crying, half-laughing as he tried to compose himself while Midorima simply smiled. When the shorter man finally managed to stop the tears from leaving, he tightened his grip on Midorima’s hand.
“I, Takao Kazunari, take you, Midorima Shintarou, to be friend, my lover, the father of my children and my husband. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in times of sickness and in times of health, in times of joy and in times of sorrow, in times of failure and in times of triumph. I vow to cherish and respect you, to care and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and stay with you, for all eternity. I vow to love you and only you because you are the first person who caught my heart and been through so much thick and thin with me. I love you, Shin-chan.”
“So do I, Kazunari. |
11112663 | Everything is okay | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Toogata Mirio, Togata Mirio, Amajiki Tamaki, Hadou Nejire",
"Fandom": "僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by yonion",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-06T00:00:00",
"words": "451",
"Additional Tags": "this is mainly from Mirio's point of few h a, Hadou Tamaki and Eri are mentioned... I guess... Sort of, They're there but don't really do much",
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} | Mirio sighed and glanced at the child who was currently being looked after by the police. He could see that she was feeling overwhelmed and uncomfortable but asking questions immediately would probably be the best thing to do. He hoped that they would give her a break soon, though. She needed some time to calm down and process everything that had happened.The male’s gaze moved to his gloved hands. His face still looked just as serious as when this mission had started. He was supposed to be happy right now. They had managed to save Eri. There was no need to feel guilty because they couldn’t hurt her anymore. Everything was okay.Holding his face in his cupped hands, he sighed. Despite everything being okay now, there was still this feeling in his chest. Something was bothering him and he knew that– but he didn’t know what was bothering him. Mirio took a deep breath and began to try to figure out what was going on with his head.That’s when he realized it. He didn’t know if his friends were okay! Hadou had been fighting outside and Tamaki hadn’t been part of the group that had joined him against Overhaul! He hadn’t seen either of them after he came outside. Hadou had probably gone inside at some point. After removing his face from his hands, he quickly began to look around. Where were they right now? Were they okay? Did they get hurt? Oh, if at least one of them got hurt, he would never forgive himself.Eyes widened when he finally heard their voices. There they were, walking next to each other. Mirio released the breath which he didn’t realize that he had been holding. They were okay! They weren’t hurt! Wait– the male tried to see if they had any wounds or if their costumes were damaged. Luckily, from where he stood, he couldn’t notice any.A bright smile appeared on his face and the cheerful glint in his eyes finally returned. He seriously could cry right now. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled. Well, he could remember what happened during the moment he had stopped with smiling but he couldn’t remember when. It felt like he hadn’t smiled or laughed in years. Getting to feel happy again felt so great. He wanted to laugh, to cry– he wanted to wrap his arms around his friends so he could hold them and never let go.“Tamaki! Hadou!” Mirio began to run towards them with his arms spread wide open. Before they could react properly, he pulled them into a tight hug and began to laugh.Finally– everything was okay and he could smile again. |
11149095 | Age Of | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Ash (Sing), Buster Moon",
"Fandom": "Sing (2016)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Lovely_Shipster",
"chapters": "1/2",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-09T00:00:00",
"words": "447",
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} | Eighteen. She was finally eighteen. The way Ash saw it, she was now free to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants, without anyone telling her she can't. Except… “So, what are you going to do to celebrate your birthday? She only wanted one thing and he has no idea. A surprised gasp falls past her lips, but she’s more concerned about the heat suddenly rushing to her face, which she tries to hide by glaring down at her guitar in her hands, “I don't have anything planned. It's not that big of a deal,” it's an obvious lie since she's been looking forward to it since she moved out of her parents house, but she didn't want to give off any real emotions. “Not a big… Aren't you turning eighteen? That's huge,” there he goes again. The most excited tone in his voice while his arms stretch out in one of his usual over-the-top hand gestures. His lips curl up into a bright smile and she almost wants to smile back. Instead, she plays out a few lines of her latest song. She can tell he’s fascinated by it just by the way he follows her fingers. “Why is it so huge?” she mutters out. “Because now you can go out on your own.” “If you haven't noticed, Mr. Moon,” she sees when he winces. She knows he hates it when anyone, especially her, calls him anything except Buster. Mainly because it gives him the impression of being old, “I've lived on my own for almost two years now. There's nothing that different.” “Buster. And maybe you're right, but what's the harm in a little celebration?” he surprises her when he presses his hand against her shoulder and causes her whole body to go stiff while his smile increases her heartbeat. She wishes she could say that or show him that or do anything besides hide her real feelings toward him. But the fear of rejection is too much. ‘You know there's an age difference, right? A major one.’ she’d always imagine him saying that whenever she thought of telling him that. And sometimes she’d picture him saying she was too young and that he was looking for a real woman. That almost always brought tears to her eyes, so she pushes back any real emotions and acts like it isn't there. Him of all people. Why him? Before she responds, she has to push his hand off. She can tell he's offended by it, “There's nothing I want to celebrate.” “Okay,” is all he says before walking out of her studio room while all she can do is watch and wish she handled that better. |
11184120 | Mate Mark | {
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Bill Cipher, Dipper Pines",
"Fandom": "Gravity Falls",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by RoboticSpaceCase",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-13T00:00:00",
"words": "3,263",
"Additional Tags": "Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, because why not, Marking, Knotting, Gay Sex, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Dipper, Omega Bill, heat cycle, Nesting, Drunk Sex",
"Relationship": "Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines",
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} | Watching Bill stumble over one of the poorly made black stools along the bar with already half-empty drinks in hand made Dipper realize that it might be time to go home. They -and by “they” he really meant Bill- had decided to go out drinking, and Dipper was made to be the DD since his omega had a way of “accidentally” challenging alphas while alone and drunk.Their relationship was definitely strange compared to most other pairs, ones where the alpha clearly wore the pants and the omega stood next to them, their only job being to look pretty and bare children. Instead, Bill often took charge and acted more like the boss.Dipper didn’t mind, Bill wasn’t rude or anything about it, that’s just how he was. It worked perfectly for him because he wasn’t exactly a take-charge kind of alpha. There were a few times he stepped up, and he definitely could act like an alpha when he needed to, but for the most part, he wasn’t really into it.“Hey, c’mon, let’s get out of here,” the brunet said as he helped stabilize his boyfriend.“Yeah, ‘s ‘bout time we go, I think. Ya got the keys, right? I don’ have ‘em.” Bill downed both drinks then slammed the cups down on the counter, patting his pockets down once his hands were free.“I have them, thank God. You’d kill us both for sure. Do you need me to carry you out?” Dipper stood from his stool, crinkling his nose at the dingy place. He didn’t know why Bill always chose hole-in-the-wall bars -probably the cheap drinks- but he was getting sick of them and their mostly other alphas smell.Having his unclaimed omega be surrounded by the scent of unknown alphas was one of the few things that made his natural instincts kick in, and Dipper always found himself being more aggressive and protective. Especially since there was alcohol involved.Bill waved his hand at him, the sleeve of Dipper’s blue jacket sliding over it when he let it fall back at his side. The smaller man had requested that Dipper give it to him when they entered the small, dimly lit bar so that other alphas knew not to try and pick him up. “I can walk jus’ fine, thanks.”The blond took a single step forward and nearly fell over, Dipper saving him from bashing his face on the counter at the last second.“Carrying it is,” Dipper sighed.After making sure their tab had been paid, Dipper scooped Bill up and carried him bridal style out of the building, hoping that Bill didn’t break his long streak of not barfing while incredibly drunk.While he walked he noticed how Bill clung to him and rubbed his face against his T-shirt, a slight purr rumbling in his chest. The affection was strange, - even while drunk Bill was never very touchy-feely - but Dipper just shrugged it off in favor of getting home and going to bed. By the time he’d get them home it’d be two AM, and he didn’t want to fuck up his sleeping schedule too badly if he could help it.“Look at me,” Bill slurred when Dipper started the car, “got a sexy alpha to take me home from the bar.” He chuckled and wiggled around in his seat, slowly unzipping the jacket.Dipper tilted his head at the action, noticing only after Bill had chucked the jacket in the backseat that the car felt much warmer than it should. He furrowed his brows and clenched his jaw, peeking at Bill from the corner of his eye. Something was definitely up with the blond.“Did you really drink so much that you’re sweating, or is this something else?” He reached over and pressed his hand to Bill’s forehead, immediately retracting it when he felt a familiar heat boiling under the blond’s skin. “You’re in heat?” he hissed. “Goddammit, Bill, why did you want to go out like this? What if another alpha smelled you?”The blond let out a laugh that ended in a whine and he began to writhe in his seat. “I had your jacket… And I needed to be drunk,” he huffed. “No drinks at home.”“Seriously?” Dipper sniffed the air and, sure enough, Bill’s scent was thick with pheromones. His body tensed at the smell, eager to speed down the road and get his omega into bed, but Dipper stilled himself and just rolled his window down a little to air out the car.“Needed to...numb,” the blond panted. He ran a hand through his short hair, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. They had started to stick to his skin from the sweat which was getting worse by the second the longer they were stuck in the small space.Dipper’s gut churned and his body was at full attention, aching to take care of the whining mess next to him. If he didn’t hurry home, Bill would be spending his heat in the backseat on the side of the road. Not safely and comfortably at home.“Numb? You’ve never wanted to numb your heats before! Bill this was stupid,” he growled out. They were getting closer and closer to the house, but Dipper wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep himself from Bill.This definitely wasn’t the first time the omega had ever done something stupid before a heat. One time he had failed to mention that he was about to go into one and it ended with them getting stuck at Mabel’s house for two days. She didn’t seem to mind it, but for Dipper, it was an awkward Hell. He didn’t know why Bill was so loose with his heats -most omegas had a strict schedule and routine around them- but he was growing tired of it.He didn’t use to do it, though. When he first started to court Bill the blond usually just locked himself away during them. It was only somewhat recently that the blond became this way, and Dipper couldn’t figure out why.Just when Dipper thought he wasn’t going to make it until they got home, he pulled into their driveway and shut the car off. He could feel that he slammed his door closed behind himself a little too harshly, but he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was get Bill inside and help him through his heat.“Alpha,” Bill whined when Dipper picked him up again.“Don’t give me that,” Dipper scoffed. “You did this to yourself. We could be in your nest taking care of this right now, but no, you wanted to go out and drink.”Bill blew a weak raspberry at him and clung tighter to him as they walked into the house. “I wanted to numb it.”“Numb what?” Dipper was getting exasperated with Bill’s excuses. He was going to pull a straight answer from the blond one way or another that night and get to the bottom of why he had become so carefree about his heats.“Biting,” Bill said behind clenched teeth. “Bite,” he reiterated.Puzzled, Dipper kept to himself until they made it up to their bedroom, where, apparently, Bill had set up a nest and readied the room for a heat. It made the situation that much more confusing, and despite how badly he just wanted to get into helping Bill, Dipper also wanted an answer.He set is omega on the bed and took a step back, clenching his fists to help keep himself in check just a little longer. “Bill, I’ve never once heard you complain about my bites, you’re just now telling me that you want to numb yourself for them?”Bill rolled his eyes, his body instinctively taking off his clothes while he answered. “The, y’know, mating bite. Heard it hurts,” he mumbled.“Mating bite? Bill, when did we ever discuss that I was going to mark you?” Unable to help himself, Dipper also started to strip, his body producing its own heat that was making him grow more and more restless.“Didn’t,” he huffed. He tossed his shirt and pants away, then started to work on slipping his boxers off. His cock sprang free and he let out a low hiss at the cold air coming in contact with his burning skin. “Couldn’t. You think too much. I knew a full conversation would make you panic and over think. Just want to do it.”Dipper growled at Bill, all too pleased when the rumbling sound caused the omega to squirm even harder. “So you’ve been trying to push me into it instead? Bill, that’s messed up.”“Am I wrong, though?” Bill’s breaths were rapid and heavy, and he turned his head to give the brunet a pleading look, his pupils blown wide enough that they almost completely covered the blue of his eyes.He wasn’t wrong, Dipper knew that. He just wished Bill hadn’t gone about it this way.The blond whined loudly at him and Dipper wasn’t able to keep himself from climbing over the smaller man, fitting himself in between his legs. The warmth coming from Bill pulled him in until their bodies were pressed up against each other, prickling chills rushing over both of them when Dipper kissed the corner of Bill’s mouth.He could scold Bill later for his method, though. For now, he’d take care of the omega and let things go wherever they lead, and if that meant him finally putting a claim on Bill, then so be it.The urge to mark Bill had been growing as their relationship did, and -even if it was just his brain making up excuses for his boyfriend- it was nice that the blond knew him well enough to notice that and help him do it without letting his constant overthinking get in the way.Dipper nosed at his neck and Bill happily titled his head back, exposing the tan flesh for his alpha to lick. His tongue dragged over the hot skin slowly so that he could hear his omega beg for more, each whine or high-pitched trill music to his ears.He let out another growl as he better positioned himself to slip inside of Bill, letting him know he needed to keep still. When he was angled just right, Dipper bit down on Bill’s neck almost hard enough to break the skin, then pushed his dick into him, soft sounds of reassurance coming from his throat.There was a good chance Bill actually was numb and couldn’t feel it, but he knew the more you comforted an omega while they were in pain the better they could get through it. He’d have to be even more reassuring and comforting after he left his mate mark since that one would require him to actually break the skin.Bill let out a relieved gasp when Dipper started to move, the friction helping ease the burn of the heat that had grown to uncomfortable levels. The room felt like a sauna and smelled only of Bill, the omega’s sweet scent amplified by the sheen of sweat over his naked body.The alpha side of Dipper enjoyed it immensely. He had stopped biting him in favor of licking him and taking in the fruity scent. As he continued to move his hips, his nose stayed pressed up against Bill’s jaw so that he let his inner alpha enjoy the submission while it lasted. During their heats were the only times either of them ever acted like their secondary sex, so they had to let it all out while they could.As much as he enjoyed the time, however, heats weren’t made for lasting, for either the alpha or the omega. In fact, it was considered a good thing to finish quickly because, of course, the more orgasms you had the more likely it was for the omega to get knocked up. They were both on birth control so they didn’t have to worry about that, but Dipper knew his omega -while in this state- would love the illusion of fulfilling what his heat was there for, so he wanted to make quick work of their first time.Bill wrapped his legs around Dipper’s hips, holding him close while the alpha came, but not tight enough for Dipper’s knot to push inside of him. He wouldn’t knot Bill until they were both spent, that way they could keep going at it without having to wait too long between each time they finished.The blond came as well, his cock twitching while it covered his stomach with the white, sticky mess that Dipper would clean up once the omega let him up for breaks.Even if Bill wasn’t a fan of coming so quickly, it wouldn’t matter in the end because the last one or two times were the only ones he’d remember anyway. That is if all the alcohol he drank allowed him to remember even that.Dipper wasn’t a fan of Bill using alcohol to numb the marking, but for Bill’s sake, he hoped it would work for him. He had heard plenty of stories about how much a mate mark burned, and he didn’t want to have to listen to the other kind of not so pleasant whining Bill was good at doing.As they went, Dipper lost track of time. He had no idea how long they were in bed together, his only discernible memories being ones of him briefly getting up to clean up a little bit. He knew he was growing tired, and he could feel Bill starting to get less and less excited each time, his wide eyes growing heavy as the night went on.“I think it’s about time we start to wrap up,” he said in a groggy voice as he cuddled up behind Bill. Once again he used his nose to push Bill’s jaw up, better exposing the crook of his neck, the place where Dipper would leave his mark.Bill let out a weak trill, rubbing his body against Dipper’s. The omega was too exhausted to speak, which was fine with Dipper. If he had tired the blond out, then it meant he had fully helped him out of his heat and Bill was satisfied.Dipper pressed into Bill again from behind, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other on the blond’s shoulder. After a night of doing nothing but fucking, his body was a little numb to it, but he still groaned when he started moving because he loved the way Bill hugged his cock so tightly.Knowing that Bill would remember this one, Dipper took his time to roll his hips into the blond’s, his sharp nails dragging over his skin just hard enough to leave red marks. His sweet smell had dulled back to his usual heady one, his heat finally dying down enough that Dipper was reminded of how much the blond had had to drink.“Alpha,” Bill whined as he moved his shoulder. “Alpha mark me.”“Just a little longer,” he growled. He tightened his grip on Bill and started to move faster, his body urging him to knot his soon to be mate.Bill was panting heavily, pleading sounds coming through with every breath. If Dipper weren’t so tired, he’d try to make his mate beg since the blond usually did it to him whenever they had sex, but he wanted to stay focused on marking Bill before he got too tired to.He moved the arm around Bill’s hips down so that he could hold his leg, lifting it so that his legs were spread, which would help him push his knot in. Being stuck together for about an hour wouldn’t exactly help either of them sleep, but knotting an omega during their heat was almost essential for them to be fully satisfied. They needed to feel like they accomplished what their heat was for and knotting would reassure that.“Alpha,” Bill chirped again. He wiggled against Dipper, prompting the brunet to growl again.“Are you sure you’re ready?” Even though Bill had been the one to ask for this, he wanted to give him one last chance to back out of it. He knew the blond would probably scold him for asking later, saying that it was just him over thinking again despite him trying to make it impossible for Dipper to do that, but he didn’t mind. To Dipper, it was better to give him one more chance to change his mind.“Mark me,” Bill huffed, his voice growing impatient.With the okay, Dipper pressed his lips against the scent gland in the crook of Bill’s neck, peppering kisses around the area until he decided he couldn’t put it off anymore.A few final, hard thrusts allowed him to knot Bill as he came, his hold on the smaller man tightening again. He opened his mouth and didn’t let himself hesitate to bite down, sinking his sharp teeth into his mate.Bill yelped and thrashed around for a moment, his breaths becoming short and a little panicked. It wasn’t uncommon for omegas to throw a fit when being marked, especially with one as stubborn as Bill, so Dipper didn’t take offense to Bill lightly clawing at his arms and whining for it to stop.Blood started to pool in Dipper’s mouth and he didn’t want to keep his teeth in for longer than necessary, but he wanted to make sure the mark took. He had heard one too many stories of hard-headed omegas not holding a mark because their alpha didn’t bite hard or long enough.Not only did he want his mark to stay, he also knew that if they had to try again he’d never hear the end of it from Bill, and that was something he definitely wanted to avoid.When he was satisfied with how deep his bite was, Dipper moved back and immediately started to lick the wound. Bill whimpered each time his tongue went over the area, but Dipper didn’t let up. He couldn’t get up to get ice or anything like that, so he had to stop the bleeding by himself.“Drinks...didn’t help,” Bill huffed, his voice just as shaky as his limbs. “Fucking hell.”“I’m sorry,” Dipper said between licks. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”Eventually, the trickles of blood slowed to a stop and Bill was no longer shaking, instead lying limp in Dipper’s arms. His breaths had evened out and he seemed like he was about to drift off. It felt incredibly peaceful, a swelling pride in Dipper’s chest causing him to purr.“I’m happy you’re finally carrying my mark,” Dipper said in a sleepy voice.Unable to form words right then, Bill started to purr as well. He kept himself at a slightly awkward angle so that he didn’t bother his shoulder too much. The whole area was an angry red, a deep purple color growing around the teeth marks. It would be bruised for about a week, a timeframe in which Bill would have to stay inside while it healed.“We’ll take tomorrow easy and just watch movies all day, okay? I’ll order pizza.” He kissed Bill’s ear and started to lightly rub the blond all over, careful not to jostle him too much. “And you’d better not bitch about the pain all week. You did this to yourself.”“Fuck you,” Bill laughed weakly.Dipper chuckled and sighed contently, relaxing against his mate. “Love you too.” |
11121900 | waiting to step forward | {
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, Bodhi Rook, Brief mentions of other characters",
"Fandom": "Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by brynnmclean (ilfirin_estel), Sohvana",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-06-07T00:00:00",
"words": "19",
"Additional Tags": "Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Romance, Porn with Feelings, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff, Wall Sex, Established Relationship, Cassian Andor: Cunnilingus Addict, Jyn and Bodhi are bros, Podfic, Podfic Length: 20-30 Minutes, Podfic & Podficced Works",
"Relationship": "Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso",
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"Series": "cast some light 'verse [podfic]",
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} | See full text at the original post here.Listen to the podfic on Google Drive here. Length: 24:08 |
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