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11341755	Quicksand	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Imajiru [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "1999-09-30T00:00:00", "words": "11,843", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement", "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 }	Quicksand by ImajiruTitle: Quicksand Authors: Imajiru Paring: M/K, NC-17 Archive: Yes to Archive X and Gossamer, anyone else please ask first. NO Geocities archiving. Feedback: Please. To Disclaimer: The boys belong to CC, but we love them so much more than he ever will... This has some schmoop content, so stay away if you don't like that sort of thing.Quicksand (M/K, NC-17) by ImajiruImajiru: been waiting for me? KrycekChick: Yup!Imajiru: Sorry you've been feeling lousy. :(Imajiru: I was thinking about your story. A couple different ways we could go with it.KrycekChick: Oooooh. Very nice. I'm actually feeling a bit better now, though. I drank tea and took a nap.Imajiru: With all the being-sick going on around here, somebody needs to be sick. Who do you want to be sick?KrycekChick: Hmmmmmm. Decisions, decisions. But I think I'd like to see Mulder take care of Alex.Imajiru: Okay.Imajiru: ...So maybe Mulder was off investigating something-or-other. And who should turn up like a bad penny but Alex Krycek? Fulfilling his role as law-enforcement personnel, Mulder slaps him around a bit, and decides to haul him back to D.C.KrycekChick: Works for me...Imajiru: Okay. Let's go. Mulder walked into the motel room first, alone -- and sighed. Sure, he'd managed to capture his longtime nemesis, and there was a certain vindictive pleasure in that. But now he was faced with the logistical difficulties of getting said nemesis back to D.C. to bring him to justice... and all he'd really wanted was to get home, crawl back into the dark little hole of his apartment, and try to forget the humiliation of this gfdsgfdlast investigation.He'd been so certain that it was a case of alien abduction. So completely convinced that he'd expounded upon his theory, liberally and at length. And when it had all turned out to be a prank, perpetrated by a couple of thirteen-year-olds... He could only hope that Scully never found out; he'd never live it down.Then, just as he'd been ready to slink back to D.C. with his tail between his legs, Alex Krycek had stumbled across his path. There was no way, of course, that he could let the rat get away scot-free, and it had been a long exhausting chase through the woods, through underbrush comprised mostly of thornbushes, ruining an expensive suit in the process. By the time he'd finally caught up with Krycek, he'd been too tired to manage more than a single half-hearted punch to the jaw.And of course, when he'd tried to book airline tickets, his charge card had been declined... //knew I should have filed the damned expense reports,//but it was too late now; and the only course of action was to drive back, fourteen hours up I-95, with the bane of his existence occupying the other half of the front seat.//Tunguska,// he'd realized belatedly, watching Krycek bend nearly double trying to scratch his nose with the hand cuffed to the car's door handle. It hadn't occurred to him that the other man might have fallen prey to the same fate he'd narrowly avoided, and in the chase, he hadn't noticed... Covert examination from the corner of his eyes while driving had confirmed the fact of the prosthesis, and to his extreme surprise, he'd found himself feeling -- //pity,// he'd told himself, ruthlessly, denying any tendency toward sympathy, empathy, anything more compassionate than condescension.But even a one-armed Krycek was dangerous; so now he was checking out the motel room, making sure there was a place to cuff him. The headboards were bolted to the walls, ornamental, carved, with apertures that would accommodate a handcuff: Mulder tested the material, decided it was sturdy enough, and set about clearing the immediate area of anything Krycek might use as a weapon.After satisfying himself that the room was secure, he went back outside. At first glance, the car seemed empty -- //son of a bitch! How the hell did he get away?!// -- but then he caught a glimpse of a leather-clad back, hunched over in the front seat, shaking slightly...Closer to the car, he heard it: coughing. Hoarse, harsh, racking coughs. //Not my problem,// he told himself firmly.A touch of pure sadism made Mulder yank the door open sharply; the sudden sideways force pulled Krycek off-balance, causing him to fall out of the car, ass-first onto the gravel surface of the parking lot, still coughing."Fucking bastard," Krycek growled, when he'd regained enough breath to speak; and Mulder worked very hard to keep his face impassive, to not reveal the small surge of triumph he felt at having gained the upper hand in some minor way.He unfastened the cuff from the car door, wrenched the other man to his feet. "Come on," he said shortly, leading Krycek into the motel room.Once there, he shoved Krycek down onto one of the beds, leaned over him to fasten the cuff to the headboard. "Why, Mulder, I didn't know you cared," the other man murmured --but the sardonic effect was marred by another spasm of coughing."You're going to keep me up all night, aren't you?" Mulder grumbled."I would, but I feel too lousy." About to snap back at him, Mulder found himself looking more closely at his captive. //He really is sick...// Flushed, eyes too bright, and the coughing sounded like heavy chest congestion -- //I don't care,// Mulder told himself, then repeated it again: //I don't care,// because he was having trouble believing it.//What do you care if he's sick, damn it? He killed your father, he was at least partially responsible for Scully's abduction, why the hell should you care if he's caught a goddamn cold?// It should have felt good to see him suffering. To watch Krycek twisting uncomfortably on the bed, struggling to wipe his runny nose with his one good --now immobilized -- hand. It should have felt like a victory.Somehow, it didn't.//He'll keep me up all night, coughing,// Mulder told himself, so reasonably and rationally that he almost believed it. "I'm going out," he said coolly. "Don't go anywhere," with just a hint of a smirk in his voice."Funny, Mulder," Krycek spat back at him, before he was hit with another spasm of coughing. "Do you think you could let me have the kleenex while you're gone?"Mulder tossed the box of tissues at him, resisting the urge to apologize for his bad aim when the corner of the box hit the other man in the face, and headed out.//What am I doing?// he found himself wondering, as he perused the limited selection of cold medicines at the Stop'n'Shop. //He's a murderer, a traitor; I should just gag him and cover his face with a pillow to keep him quiet...//But the vengeful thoughts didn't keep him from selecting four different products that might ease Krycek's symptoms, or from traveling next door to the Chinese takeout place for soup and hot tea and dinner for himself.Back at the motel, he could tell that Krycek hadn't escaped while still in the parking lot -- the sound of his captive's coughing was audible through the closed door. Inside, he found Krycek huddled over the edge of the bed, fighting for breath through the harsh paroxysms. No doubt about it: he was in bad shape.//I don't care,// Mulder told himself firmly, juggling bags of medicine and food. //It doesn't matter to me,// as he dug through the bags searching for the cough syrup. //He can choke to death, for all I care,// as he fumbled the child-proof cap open, waited for the spasms to subside, placed the bottle against his captive's lips. Krycek tilted his head back, and Mulder tipped the bottle, and watched the other man chug the cough syrup with the practiced ease of a college sophomore ingesting beer. "Ugh," Krycek said approximately, afterwards -- more a strangled sound of disgust than anything coherent. "Why does medicine have to taste so damned bad?""You're lucky I'm bothering. I could just leave you out in the car all night, save myself the effort," Mulder growled."So why don't you?" Krycek persisted."Didn't you hear? It's Be Kind To Animals Day." A one-armed shrug. "Hey, I'll take what I can get."On his way to the bathroom to fetch a glass of water, Mulder found himself considering Krycek's comment. //Something's wrong...// Okay, sure, the man was nursing a vicious cold. But still, the tone had been... off, somehow. Neither as careless nor as sardonic as he would have expected.As if the man was genuinely touched to have someone caring for him. As if his actions meant something to Krycek.//I don't care!// Mulder insisted to himself vehemently. //I don't...//He popped two cold pills from their plastic bubbles, brought the medication and water to Krycek, who was coughing again, though not quite with the same ferocity as before. Silently, he held out the pills, and Krycek opened his mouth. Mulder placed them on the other man's tongue and held the glass to his mouth so that he could swallow them.//I don't care,// he reminded himself. "You hungry?" he asked, making a special effort to render his voice harsh and brusque.Krycek eyed him warily. "Some," he allowed, as if the admission of hunger was a vulnerability, a thing Mulder might use as a weapon.//Drag him outside, lock him in the car, cuff him to the door and leave him there. Let him sleep out there in the cold, let him go hungry... it would be so easy. Why don't I?//Mulder wondered.//...I don't care,// he repeated to himself, as if the three words were a mantra with which he could banish such restless queries."I got you some soup," he said, realizing as he spoke that his tone held the same caution, the same defensiveness as Krycek's had. //As if my feeding him is a weakness... and maybe it is.//Immediately, Krycek perked up. "Hot and sour?""Egg drop," Mulder replied, feeling absurdly as if he should apologize as the other man's face fell."Did you get hot mustard?" his captive queried, less hopefully.Mulder checked the bag. "Yeah," he said, pulling out a couple of the little packets.Another one-armed shrug. "It'll do, I guess.""It had better," Mulder growled."Like I said, I'll take what I can get." The melancholy in Krycek's voice was all the more apparent, now, for his attempts to conceal it. "So. Are you going to take off the cuffs, or are you going to feed me?"//Damn.// Those were his only two choices, and uncuffing Krycek was out of the question.With a heavy sigh, Mulder dipped the plastic spoon into the take-out container and began to feed his prisoner.It was slow going, because Krycek was still coughing intermittently -- once or twice, sudden spasms caught him mid-swallow, causing him to nearly choke. Try as he might, Mulder couldn't quite repress a certain sympathy -- because it was painfully obvious that Krycek was more than slightly hungry, and because the force of his coughing had to be making his ribs ache...//It's pity,// he told himself, //Krycek's a pitiful creature,// while another part of his mind, less deluded and more impatient, struggled to attract his conscious attention.After a seeming eternity, the soup container was empty. Feeling his stomach growl, Mulder turned to the bag of take-out food, intending to begin his own meal. "Hey, Mulder," Krycek spoke up, "even dogs get walked once a day, y'know?" with a faint gesture toward the bathroom; and grumbling, Mulder unfastened the handcuff from the headboard.The tiny motel bathroom was windowless -- nowhere for Krycek to go, and safe enough to allow him his privacy. Mulder let him into the bathroom with a sharp warning not to try anything funny, waited outside the closed door with gun in hand... after a lengthy interval, banged on the door. "Hurry it up," he demanded."I've got one hand," came the exasperated reply, "these things take some time, all right?"Somehow, the casual statement hit Mulder with an impact he hadn't felt before. //One hand,// he thought, involuntarily envisioning the myriad logistical difficulties of such a thing. From taking a leak to opening a jar of peanut butter... everything would change, become difficult or impossible. And Krycek was still Krycek, living a life on the run, in the shadows... how did he manage?//I don't care,// Mulder thought; but overwhelming that insistent mantra came another thought: //It could have been me.//Finally, Krycek emerged, coughing again, pale and rumpled. Wearily, the other man extended his single arm, handcuffs still dangling from the wrist, and for just a moment, Mulder felt guilty... //Idiot! Are you insane?// But the shadow of guilt persisted, as he refastened the cuff to the headboard.//With that cough, it's better for him to sleep sitting up anyway,// he told himself ruthlessly -- and found himself tucking pillows behind Krycek's back, propping him up, making him comfortable.A slight twitch of the other man's shoulder drew Mulder's attention to the prosthetic arm -- knowing now what to look for, he could just make out the outlines of the straps fastening it in place beneath the snug thermal shirt. "Would you, uh... would you be more comfortable without, uh...""No. Leave it alone." Flat voice, tone expressionless --but there was a swift flickering of anguish in Krycek's eyes: pain and embarrassment and humiliation and more pain, before his face arranged itself into bland non-emotion.//I don't care, I don't care, I don't care,// over and over in Mulder's mind; but he had to say it, he had to. "I'm sorry."Eyelids snapped shut over troubled green eyes, hiding any revelations he might have found there. "Shut up, Mulder.""Krycek...""Just shut up."And Mulder turned away fast, lest Krycek look up and see the sparkle of the tears suddenly stinging his eyes.//How did it happen?// he found himself wondering, as he absently picked at his chicken lo mein. //Not a clean amputation, not there. Was it the way it would have been, if it had happened to me? Did they -- whoever 'they' were --give him anything to dull the pain? Did they even give him anything to bite down on, while they were cutting his arm off?////What a useless, senseless loss. What a waste. To lose a limb, for nothing...// Mulder sighed. //I don't care,// he told himself, and knew it was a lie."You want some of this?" he found himself asking Krycek, indicating his dinner.A forlorn sigh was his answer. "I'd love some. But I don't think my stomach could handle it."And as if to underscore the remark, another coughing fit began, fierce and exhausting; it left Krycek doubled over, sideways on the bed with the false arm twisted behind himself, facing Mulder, as he struggled to draw breath past the deep congestion in his chest.//I don't care,// Mulder thought, purely from habit, as he set the remains of his dinner aside."No," came the feeble protest as he unlocked the handcuff on the other man's wrist and began to remove Krycek's shirt."Shut up," Mulder said absently, finishing the job. He'd imagined what it would look like, the prosthesis and the amputation, had steeled himself for the image, but the reality of it... the straps were so heavy and thick, so constricting, and for a moment he couldn't help but envision what it would be like to walk around with a weight strapped to his body... and Krycek looked so damn vulnerable, with his eyes closed and his head turned away so as not to have to deal with Mulder's reaction.//I don't care,// he told himself; but it seemed kinder not to waste time staring, not to emphasize the man's handicap with silence or stillness. So he busied himself with unfastening the straps that held the false arm in place, fingertips occasionally brushing against a body so taut and unyielding that it seemed the tension might break Krycek in two.The remains of the arm itself, once fully revealed, drove home to Mulder the full horror he'd avoided in Tunguska. This was no clean,hospital-sanitized amputation; this had been the sawing-off of a limb, cruel and callous -- and again, tears stung at his eyes. He couldn't stop staring... But he made himself stop, because Krycek was trembling, ever so slightly, and he realized that it had to be terrible for him, to be stared at that way.He fetched the package of muscle rub, squeezed out a line of the white cream and began to apply it -- he had to be careful, since there were friction burns where the straps had been, little abraded patches of flesh that would sting like hell if he was careless. With firm, gentle strokes, he spread the mentholated cream over Krycek's chest and neck, avoiding the sore spots as best he could, murmuring "Sorry," at the sudden hiss of indrawn breath that told him he'd missed... and little by little, very slowly, felt Krycek relax."That shit's going to ruin my shirt," Krycek objected, as Mulder attempted to draw the garment back over him."Well, you're not ruining one of mine," Mulder shot back. Yet it occurred to him, as he glanced at his suitcase, that he did at least have another shirt. Krycek didn't, at least not with him. It seemed needlessly cruel... and grumbling, Mulder rummaged through his luggage until he found a sweatshirt he could resign himself to sacrificing to the greasy menthol cream.Afterwards, he got the other man settled against the pillows before refastening the handcuff, tucked the blankets around him warmly. "I forgot," he muttered, "there's tea, if you want it. Probably cold by now...""Yeah." Krycek hesitated. "Yes. Please," his voice almost embarrassed, as if it humiliated him to have to beg.//Well, why shouldn't it?// Mulder found himself thinking. //No one should have to... I don't care!// he amended the thought angrily. //He's a lying scumbag bastard, and I don't care how he feels. I don't care, I don't...//But he brought the tea, and held the lukewarm liquid to the other man's lips so that he could drink it.By the time he returned to his lo mein, it was cold and unappealing; with a grimace, Mulder set the dish aside. Seeking something else to fill his stomach, he cracked open a fortune cookie and ate it, half-heartedly scanning the little slip of paper inside. 'Unexpected kindness brings joy to the giver as well as the receiver,' it said, in tiny letters.//But it won't fill your stomach,// Mulder thought sourly, and tossed the scrap aside."I have to go to the bathroom again," the other man said."Dogs only get walked once a day," Mulder retorted.Krycek just looked at him; and Mulder sighed, and took him to the bathroom, waiting wearily outside for the duration."I'm going to sleep," he said grumpily, when it was all over and Krycek was secured to the headboard again. "Don't wake me," and turned out the bedside lamp. Darkness settled around him, reminding him of how tired he was; slumber moved in to take him..."Mulder," he heard a faint voice rising from the fathomless blackness to his left."What?" he muttered.Silence, so lengthy that he nearly fell asleep in the interim. "Thanks," Krycek said finally, very softly.//I don't care,// Mulder insisted to himself, as his mind rearranged itself into patterns of sleep. //I don't care.//But he was tired, and consciousness was slipping away, revealing the underlying truth he didn't want to admit to himself: //I do care. Yes, I do.//It almost kept him awake, this revelation; but in the end, he was just too exhausted, and slept.-------Coughing.Harsh, racking coughs. Strained, wheezing attempts at breath. Persistent, endless, weary, as if he'd been coughing so long that he'd forgotten how to do anything else...Mulder was on his feet before he was even awake, fumbling for the handcuff key before he really knew what he was doing, freeing Krycek from the restraint and tugging him to his feet. "C'mon," he murmured sleepily, operating on blind instinct, sliding one arm around Krycek's back to support him as they stumbled toward the bathroom.Shower faucet. Hot water, steaming hot, clouds of steam rising to fill the tiny room. "Breathe," he urged Krycek, easing him to the floor as the paroxysms caused the other man's legs to crumple beneath him, "try to breathe," rubbing his back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "Easy, easy, it'll be all right," even though Krycek was too absorbed in his own misery to hear him. A momentary flash of awareness drove him into the other room, for the cough syrup; he waited for the coughing to subside enough to allow Krycek to breathe, then tipped the bottle to the other man's lips.Krycek drank, swallowed -- gagged, as another coughing spasm hit him mid-swallow -- then scrambled blindly, frantically, toward the toilet and began to vomit.The sound of it made Mulder's own gag reflex twitch, but he fought back the reaction, crawled to Krycek's side. Behind the retching, there were little moans, whimpering sounds of abject misery -- it hurt to listen to him, to watch him hunched over the bowl shuddering; it hurt as badly as if the illness were Mulder's own, so much that he forgot to remind himself not to care. It hurt, and there was simply nothing he could do besides try to ease the hurt: nothing he could do but keep rubbing Krycek's back to remind him that he wasn't enduring the misery alone, until finally, finally, the heaves subsided.Mulder grabbed a kleenex and wiped the other man's nose and mouth for him, while Krycek struggled to breathe. He slid one arm around the other man's back -- "Easy," he murmured, "it's all right, you're gonna be all right..." Krycek crumpled against him, coughing and trembling and making those awful little whimpering noises, almost sobbing -- and at a loss for what else to do, Mulder held him.//I don't care, I don't... oh, fuck,// he thought tiredly, massaging slow circles against Krycek's back. "Easy," he whispered, "take it easy. Relax." And it did seem as though the vomiting and the steam had helped to ease the congestion; Krycek was breathing more easily now, the coughing not as harsh as before. "It's all right, you're going to be all right," reaching up to stroke the silken hair that rested against his shoulder. "I'm here," realizing belatedly that that fact should be anything but comforting to the man slumped against him. Yet Krycek seemed to find it reassuring; the last bits of tension in him dissolved.It felt like a dream: the steam filling the bathroom, obscuring everything; the warm solidity of the man huddled against him; the satiny smoothness of the hair beneath his fingertips. His cheek came to rest against Krycek's forehead, the blazing heat of the skin notable even in the humid air, and he thought he heard Krycek sigh.How long had it been since there had been such a lack of enmity between them? Years -- and back then, the tenuous association between them had been built on lies. He'd never seen Krycek this vulnerable, so utterly devoid of defenses... and it was somehow comforting, the knowledge that this man was the true Alex Krycek, as honestly himself as circumstances might ever allow him to be.In the dreamlike stillness, he could admit to himself: //I do care. I've always cared.// Confronted with the other man's vulnerability, the admission seemed far less damaging than it might have otherwise been. He could care about this man, as he couldn't when there was a gun to his head, or a lie being tossed at him again... he could care about this man, about his health and his welfare, could enjoy the feel of his body pressed close, of his pliant warmth...Mulder realized with dismay that he was getting an erection.More to distract himself than anything else, he reached out and grabbed the bottle of medicine. "Let's try this again," he said, and Krycek allowed himself to be fed cough syrup without moving; he seemed disinclined to remove his head from Mulder's shoulder. Which was perfectly fine with Mulder, because he didn't really want to let go.But Krycek's borrowed sweatshirt was wet with sweat, and it would be better to get him into bed... a sudden image of himself in bed with Krycek assaulted his brain, and Mulder shook his head violently to dispel it. //That's taking caring too far!// he berated himself, doing his best to ignore his body's instant reaction to the imagery. "C'mon," he urged the other man, and reluctantly Krycek allowed himself to be helped to his feet and back to the other room.Another sweatshirt, one he'd worn jogging, but at least it was dry -- more of the menthol rub first; and this time, Mulder was even more aware of the contact. His hand against Krycek's chest, the texture of the hot skin beneath his palm. The other man's utter stillness, save for the ragged breathing that might or might not be a sign of respiratory distress. The intimacy of this act: of allowing himself to help Krycek, of Krycek allowing the help. The simple pleasure of touching him.He wondered, distantly, if it felt as good to Krycek as it did to him... was glad of the room's darkness, and Krycek's closed eyes, so that the other man wouldn't notice his hard-on."I can find you something more comfortable than those jeans," he offered belatedly."No! I... I'm fine," in a slightly panicked voice, and Mulder's eyes flickered downward... but it was too dark to see whether the other man was experiencing a reaction similar to his own.And what if he was? What would that mean?Mulder didn't, couldn't, let himself think about that.He went back to the bathroom, to turn off the now-cold shower and flush the toilet and wait for his arousal to subside enough to allow him to take a long-needed piss, and by the time he returned, Krycek was apparently asleep. Traces of moonlight slipping through gaps in the curtains revealed just enough of his face to show a placid innocence, utterly incongruous with what he knew of the man. //But then, tonight...// The events of the night had been a discontinuity; everything he'd thought he'd known, about Krycek and about their relationship, had been ruptured by those moments of quiet comfort.//How can I hate him now?////How can I not care?////Damn it.//With the disturbing feeling of sinking into quicksand way over his head, he sat down carefully on the edge of Krycek's bed -- and eyelids flickered open to gaze steadily back at him. //I forgot to cuff him,// Mulder realized -- but Krycek made no move, just looked up at him."You think I can get some sleep now?" Mulder wondered aloud.Trace of a sheepish expression. "Sorry about that.""Don't worry about it." And for no reason he could name, Mulder found himself reaching out, placing his hand flat on Krycek's chest.Krycek's arm -- his right arm, his only arm, the one Mulder should have cuffed -- moved; and Mulder felt the warmth of Krycek's hand covering his own. And still their gaze held, eyes locked, neither with hostility nor resentment nor anger, only......quicksand. Closing fast overhead, and trapping them both.//This is insane. This is so fucking endlessly insane, and I don't care, I can't care, and what the fuck am I doing?//And without letting himself think about it any longer, Mulder leaned over, down, until his lips brushed against Krycek's.//This is insane, this is... oh, fuck...//...as the lips captured his, parting, welcoming, wanting...//...this is wonderful...//...hint of sourness beneath the sharp sweet-bitter taste of cough syrup and neither mattering, only the sudden ferocity of lips and tongue, hard and hungry......and then Krycek wrenched away, just before the spasm of coughing hit him again."Shit," a furious mutter gasped between coughs, and Mulder understood intuitively that the anger wasn't at the kiss, but at the renewal of illness that had ended it.And the burst of humor and empathy he felt toward the other man was so sudden and so pure, and so very far from any emotional reaction he'd ever expected to have for Krycek, that Mulder could only marvel at the utter bizarreness of the universe.He got up and fetched cold pills, glass of water, cough syrup -- the bottle was almost empty, now -- sat back down on the edge of the bed and waited for the coughing to subside, then dispensed medication accordingly. "Get some rest," he said, not even bothering to rue the tenderness in his voice, or assemble any mental pretense of uncaring.Krycek was staring at him, surprised and amazed and maybe a little confused; studying him, as if Mulder were some complex puzzle he was trying to decipher. "What...""Shh." Too much was happening, all at once. "We'll figure it out later, okay? Just get some rest," his hand reaching out to Krycek's face, palm sliding along cheekbone and jaw in a caress that felt unbelievably natural.The other man blinked up at him. "Sure," he said, "sure, Mulder," in a voice that sounded as if it were on the edge of breaking.And it felt so right, to lean over and kiss the too-hot forehead, as tenderly as if they'd been lovers instead of bitter enemies for all those years... and when Krycek's arm slid around his waist and clung to him tightly, it was the most natural thing in the world to embrace him and hold him. So natural, so right, that it would have been perfectly normal to simply slide into bed beside him......but it was late, and both of them were tired, and too much had happened all at once to be resolved in such a brief interval. "Rest," Mulder repeated, letting the embrace slacken -- and Krycek's arm tightened around him convulsively for the briefest moment before releasing him.Even in the loneliness of his own bed, he could feel it, the strange new connection between them -- like a tangible force, electric, humming, setting the air between them afire. There was just enough light to see Krycek, turned onto his side now, gazing at him... Involuntarily, Mulder felt himself smile. And after a moment's hesitation, Krycek -- Alex -- smiled back.Quicksand, indeed.Fatigue overwhelmed him; Mulder closed his eyes and slept.-------"Mulder. Mulder."Sleepily, Mulder blinked his eyes open, turning toward the source of the sound.Alex... no, Krycek. Fully dressed, prosthesis in place, standing at the foot of the bed. Holding Mulder's gun. Pointing it at Mulder."Stupid," he muttered, as the awareness sank in. "Stupid, stupid... I can't believe it. I can't believe I actually trusted you."It seemed to him that Krycek flinched at that."You don't understand," the other man said, in a peculiarly low voice. "If I let you take me..." and had to stop, as the coughing began again; with an effort, he suppressed the spasm, and continued. "...take me back with you, I'll never make it to trial. They'll get to me, they'll kill me. And I can't let that happen. I can't."Mulder settled himself back against the pillows and studied Krycek. Face flushed, hand just slightly unsteady as it aimed the gun in his direction, eyes fever-bright, and... different. Not the eyes of the assassin. There was too much else there."I can't let you do that, no matter how much I..." Krycek broke off the sentence abruptly, began anew. "I didn't have to wake you, you know. I just... I..." His eyes closed briefly, as if from pain. "I wanted to thank you. For everything." More softly: "And to tell you... I'm sorry." More softly still: "For everything."And in that moment, Mulder did understand."So what are you going to do, huh? Where are you going to go?" he wondered aloud, in a conversational tone. "You're still sick, you know. You're not going to get any better, running around in the cold; you're only going to get worse, and who'll take care of you then?""I don't have a choice!" Such bitterness in the angry retort. Such bitterness, and such loneliness, and such pain."Yes, you do." The gun pointed at him didn't worry him, now; he had no fear of this man anymore. "You can take off your clothes, and get back into bed, and let me take care of you. And when you're feeling well again..." //I can't really be saying this, can I?// "...I'll let you go."Krycek stared at him as if he'd never seen him before; and Mulder met the gaze steadily, wondering what the hell he was doing and not really caring. The quicksand was all around them, too thick and cloying to permit escape -- and there was a warmth that made him not want to struggle free.The other man shook his head slightly; and sadness swept through Mulder. And then, very slowly, Krycek set the gun down on the dresser.Mulder stayed very still as Krycek -- Alex again, now --moved back to his own bed, sat down on the edge of the mattress. The moment was too precarious, too fragile; any sudden moves, and Alex might bolt and run. "I can't believe I'm doing this," the other man muttered."Then that makes two of us," Mulder offered.Alex glanced at him then, with a tentative smile; and Mulder knew that everything would be all right.He slid out of bed and began to undress Alex: jacket and shirt and prosthesis, to begin with. Retrieving the sweatshirt Alex had been wearing, it touched Mulder to realize that even in the midst of flight, the other man had been thoughtful enough to fold the borrowed garment neatly. Alex was still, passive, allowed himself to be undressed, not moving to help -- trembling slightly, a tremor that grew more intense as Mulder knelt to remove the boots. His socks had holes in them; Mulder tossed the pair into the nearest trash can, intending to replace them with some of his own. It occurred to Mulder that Alex could probably take off his own jeans. But there was no way he was going to let that happen. "Stand up," he murmured, and Alex stood -- shaking like a leaf, now; as badly as Mulder's hands shook as they fumbled with the button at his waist. No mistaking the effect this was having on Alex: and Mulder ached with wanting to let his hands drift downward, to explore that impressive bulge -- and he didn't quite dare; not now, not yet.But even the slight pressure of his hands unzipping the fly caused a sharp gasp of indrawn breath, a quick shudder that raced through Alex's body -- and he was too close, and it was too tempting; Mulder pulled down jeans and underwear at once, and wrapped his hand around the evidence of the other man's desire.A trembling, whimpering moan, such a plaintive, vulnerable sound; Alex swayed and nearly fell, and Mulder abandoned other pursuits to move quickly and catch him before he could.Standing, now, holding Alex close, and the only option that made sense was to pull him even closer and kiss him. Kiss him, feel his body pressed close, hard-on rubbing against his own, the single arm clutching at him with enough strength for two; and being kissed, deeply and thoroughly with more hunger and desperation than he would have thought possible.And then Alex started coughing again, coughing and swearing between coughs, and Mulder couldn't help but laugh."It's okay," he whispered into the other man's ear, holding him and steadying him against the spasms, "it's okay, we have time.""Do we?" between paroxysms, spoken in that same bitter, lonely voice. "I don't think we do.""We'll make time," Mulder insisted, aware that he was making a promise -- and that his words would have repercussions far beyond a few days of sharing a motel room -- and feeling the utter rightness of it so strongly that he couldn't bring himself to regret a word of it.He kissed Alex's cheek, marveling at the tenderness he was feeling. "We'll make time," he repeated, willing Alex to believe it; and as the coughs subsided, he felt the other man relax in his arms, in silent surrender.It seemed more important than anything else to get Alex comfortable and warm; forcing himself to ignore temptation, he helped the other man into borrowed sweatpants and socks, and got him settled into bed. Of course, it would have been wonderful to crawl in there with him -- but Alex was coughing again, and there was no medicine left. "I'm going to get dressed, go out and get cough syrup and something to eat... and you'll be here when I get back, right?"Sudden shift in the other man's expression: warmth, affection, something very like trust, open and honest and radiant and gorgeous -- and it left Mulder breathless. "Right," Alex said, managing to make the single word convey so much...It was so natural to reach for him, to kiss him tenderly and passionately.Quick trip to the bathroom, then he was stripping off sweatpants and t-shirt in favor of street clothes, acutely aware of Alex's eyes devouring the brief glimpses of nudity, fingers twitching as if longing to touch. Reveling in that scrutiny, while trying to think neutral thoughts so as to be able to zip up his jeans without pain. Trip to the store, food and medicine, and then...Mulder still couldn't quite bring himself to think about that; but the thought of what 'and then' might bring warmed him all through, and in some places more than others.Despite Alex's reassurance, he still couldn't quite believe that the room wouldn't be empty when he returned -- so he raced through the errands quickly, opening the motel door almost fearfully, and breathing a surreptitious sigh of relief to find Alex still in bed where he'd left him. Asleep, snoring lightly, wearing that expression of childlike innocence that was at once so ludicrous and so touching... he sat down on the edge of the bed, and Alex stirred; touched the other man's face with gentle fingertips, and was rewarded by the fluttering of eyelids. "Sorry. Must've drifted off...""You need your rest," Mulder told him apologetically. "But I thought you might want to eat breakfast before it gets cold."He'd debated for a few difficult moments over the relative merits of different items on the Denny's menu -- had remembered the comments from the night before, and decided on a western-style omelet for Alex, resplendent in spicy salsa. From the grin on the other man's face, it seemed that this had been a good choice. "Thanks," Alex said, reaching for the plastic fork.Mulder deflected his hand. "Are you forgetting how this works?" he chided gently.Alex looked down at his wrist pointedly. "I'm not handcuffed now.""And this matters because...?" Mulder cut away a portion of omelet, piled it onto the fork.A shrug. "No reason," Alex said, and opened his mouth to be fed.Strange. So strange, to be feeding him: so inexplicable, the combination of passivity and... was it trust? that Alex was displaying. As if, having placed his future in Mulder's hands, he was willing to take whatever was dealt to him from that point forward. Or as if... there was simply no more will to fight.Quicksand, again, sucking them both under -- //but damn it, it feels so good!//"Your food is going to get cold," Alex pointed out, halfway through the omelet.Mulder shrugged in response. "Doesn't matter."Firmly, Alex pried the fork out of his hand. "If you die of hunger, who's going to take care of me?" It was said with a small, shy smile that didn't at all fit the persona Mulder knew best, but which he liked. Very much. "Eat, Mulder. I'll be fine."He grinned and acquiesced, seating himself cross-legged on the other half of Alex's bed with his scrambled eggs and bacon, eating and watching Alex eat -- with admirable finesse, he thought, despite the wobbling of the foil take-out tray on his lap. //It could have been me,// raced through his head, and again the unbearable wave of sympathy and regret... //If I'd known, I would have searched for you and found you and taken you with me; I would have done my best to prevent this, no matter how much I hated you. And would it be better or worse for you to hear that?////You hurt me, you hurt me so much, and I wanted to hurt you back -- but not like this. Never like this. And now... now all I want is to not hurt you, to take away the pain. What the hell is happening to me? To both of us?////Or was it happening all along, and I just never noticed? Never wanted to know?//"I need to take a shower," Alex announced, after he'd finished his meal. "I itch."Mulder considered this for a moment. "I could help," he offered, trying to keep his body from reacting to the image his mind presented.Alex hesitated. "I, uh... I'd rather do this alone."//It's not rejection,// Mulder told himself firmly. "Sure," he said, "just save some hot water for me, okay?" and Alex nodded, got out of bed and headed toward the bathroom.The bed smelled faintly of menthol; he opened the door, flagged down a maid doing rounds, and procured a change of sheets. It would have been far easier to let the maid do her job, but, Mulder realized, as he stripped the bed, even that small interruption felt like an invasion of privacy. Besides, it was probably better if no one knew Alex Krycek had been here... Pawing through the nightstand drawer, he found a slip of paper which informed him that the motel offered laundry service at a hefty premium. One call to the front office and a knock at the door later, the bundle of clothing was on its way to being cleaned.And Alex was still in the damned shower, and there was nothing for Mulder to do except watch daytime TV restlessly and wait for him to finish... and think. Too much thinking was dangerous, he recognized; too much time to poke holes in the fabric of what was transpiring between them... so he immersed himself determinedly in the antics of game show contestants, and tried like hell to think of nothing else.He managed so well that it caught him by surprise when the door opened, and a dripping Krycek stepped out, towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist. "Your turn," he said.Mulder barely noticed; he was too preoccupied with looking at Alex. Sheer beauty, all of him, and even the stump of the missing arm with its angry scars couldn't mar the glory of the rest of him......and Alex reddened and turned away: a half-turn, just enough to hide the deficiency from view. "Your turn," repeated through gritted teeth, a tone that held seething anger.Driven by an instinct he didn't bother to question, Mulder rose to his feet and headed for the bathroom. He paused, when he was close enough to touch the other man, reached out and pulled him close, bent to place his lips against scarred skin.He could feel Alex trembling in his arms. "Don't do that!" spoken harshly, angrily; and Mulder picked a different spot, just as damaged, and kissed that, too."Stop it!" with even more fury; and yet Alex didn't pull away as Mulder let his fingertips glide over the scars and knotted flesh."Does it hurt?" Mulder inquired, as the tremors grew stronger."You have no idea how it hurts," in a way that made him certain Alex wasn't talking about physical pain. //It could have been me...// "I'm sorry," said Mulder, knowing how pitifully inadequate the words were, unable to find anything more suitable. "But it doesn't..." //how do I phrase it?// "It doesn't change who you are.""It changes who I am. To me." Alex did pull away then, moving across the room with quick, angry strides. "Go shower," he said, his voice tight and cold.The bitterness, the pain emanating from the man made Mulder want to go to him, embrace him, reassure him -- but something in his stance (go away, go away) made it clear that this wouldn't be a good move. For lack of anything better to do, he headed into the bathroom.//It could have been me.//Over and over again, running through his mind, unceasing: //It could have been me.// Washing himself, seeing the agony only half-veiled behind the anger in Alex's eyes: //It could have been me.// Staring into the bathroom mirror afterwards, trying to picture his own body scarred and lacking: //It could have been me.// A senseless, stupid waste, and //it could have been me,// and //how would I have felt, if it had been me? Bitter, yes, and angry, and... and ashamed, for anyone else to see the ruined, scarred remnants, to be reminded with every gaze of what I'd endured...////Shit, what do I do now?//Emerging from the bathroom, he found Alex in bed, fully dressed -- or sweatshirt, at least; impossible to tell what else he was or wasn't wearing, because the covers were pulled up high over his chest. //Hiding,// was Mulder's first thought.Another burst of instinct, and again he didn't pause to reflect, just followed it: climbed into bed beside Alex --the left side -- without bothering to dress, stripping away the towel as he slid under the covers so that he was naked beneath the sheets.The wave of sudden, all-over tension consuming the man beside him couldn't have been coincidence."Did you take any more cold pills?" Small, negative shake of the head. "What about the cough syrup?" Again, no. "Well, why not?" Mulder asked, in his most reasonable voice. "Just masochistic, I guess," in that hard, cold voice, shutting out Mulder's concern -- the effect was marred by another cough, one that Krycek tried hard to stifle."You see?" He reached over the other man and snatched up the cold pills, fumbling with the childproof cap until it was open. //And how would he manage this alone?// Mulder wondered -- but that was not a question to ask at this moment, if ever. "Take these," he demanded, staring pointedly into the eyes that refused to meet his until the other man took the pills from his hand, gulped them down with a swig of cough syrup. "How am I supposed to take care of you if you won't let me?"Sudden, blazing fury. "I don't need anyone to take care of me!"//Then why are you still here?// Mulder wondered; but this, too, was the wrong thing to say. "I think you do," he said, very quietly. "I think you wish you didn't.""Shut the fuck up, or I'm getting the hell out of here!" But for all the venom of the words, there was more pain than anger in Alex's voice.//Shame,// Mulder realized. //He's ashamed. Of the arm, and maybe... maybe there's more conscience than I ever gave him credit for. Maybe. Or perhaps it's just the pain...//He reached out, let one hand creep carefully over Alex's left shoulder -- and apparently, this was the last straw, because suddenly the other man was moving, struggling out of bed......and Mulder lunged forward before he could complete the move, grabbed the other shoulder and pulled him close. Krycek drew a deep breath, opened his mouth -- and Mulder didn't wait to hear what he might say; just kissed him, hard and deep and demanding.Gradually, the tension drained away; gradually, Alex stopped fighting him and relaxed into the kiss. When he felt an answering hardness rising to nudge him from beneath the borrowed sweatpants, he knew that he'd won.Between kisses, he eased the sweatshirt over the other man's head, caressing him -- all of him, healthy and wounded parts alike. One hand gliding over smooth skin, the other carefully sliding over scars, as if both were perfectly normal. //All of you, Alex. Whatever else we've ever had between us, this has nothing to do with it...// "No," the barest breath of a whisper, as he bent his head to apply more kisses to the source of the other's shame -- then the faintest hint of a whimper, and another soft "No..." --and then Mulder was shifting position again, to brush his lips against closed eyelids and kiss away the tears."Don't do this to me!" Anguished protest at the soft kisses being trailed over his face and neck."What am I doing?" Mulder wondered, drawing back a bit to see his expression, to try to understand.Eyes dark with pain and tears, eyes like a wounded animal, pleading silently. "It is possible to kill someone with kindness, you know. Or is that the idea? Next minute you'll be punching me again, blaming me for whatever you can...""No.""Bullshit!""I said, no." Mulder leaned forward again, for another taste of Alex's tears."Why?" Alex insisted. "Because I caught a cold? Nothing's changed, Mulder. Just this moment; beyond that, nothing's changed between us.""Everything's changed. Everything's different, now.""Why?" Anger, now, in the demand; and Alex was pulling away from him, isolating himself again in his pain.And Mulder didn't have an answer for him."The way I look at you?" he said slowly, feeling his way gingerly through the minefield. "The way I see you. That's changed. I've changed." Meeting the pain-filled eyes and letting some of his own pain show through. "And by the way, has it occurred to you what this is doing to me? But I don't care." //I don't care...// "I just want..." //You. I want you.// "I just want you.""Damn it..." More tears, and Mulder ached for him, for the tears that weren't being shed: for the pain too deep and too strong to ever be released. And oh, could he ever identify. "I don't even want me anymore.""Then isn't it a good thing that one of us does?" and he couldn't bear it anymore, he had to lean in and kiss away the tears, licking the saline trails down the other man's face -- and finally, the barest glimmering of his reward; a small, half-hearted smile gracing Alex's lips."You're crazy, Mulder." But there was affection in the words."People do say that," he agreed, easing Alex back down against the sheets.Alex let himself be moved, falling back into that willing pliancy once more. "They're right, you know.""I know. But when have I ever let that stop me?" Mulder moved, settling down on top of Alex, pinning him firmly in place to prohibit any more struggles. "Are you going to shut up and let me kiss you now?"And Alex reached up and pulled him down.Kissing him and kissing him, sinking into the heat and passion of the kisses, pausing to let Alex cough and then diving in for more. The incredible feel of skin against skin -- not enough skin; pausing again, to get rid of the sweatpants. Alex, stopping him before he could remove the socks as well: "My feet get cold," and pausing to laugh about that together, and then more kisses, hungry and tender and desperate and gentle all at once, clinging to each other as if no amount of contact could be enough.Snuggling, settling into a comfortable position -- Alex lying on his left side, to leave his hand free to wander; "Doesn't that hurt?" and reassurances that it didn't -- and more kisses, and a few more tears, and finally the certainty that it didn't matter, that only the desire mattered. More kisses, and wrapping his hand around Alex's cock and stroking, amazement at the way that simple contact affected him. Touching, and being touched, and nearly exploding at the first touch -- it had been so damn long since anyone had touched him -- so aroused that it was enough, it was more than enough; and both of them falling into the same rhythm until he did explode, and Alex with him, moaning and shuddering and still kissing until the spasms subsided.A moment of perfect, blissful, sticky stillness. And then Alex began to cough again, turning away fast so as not to spit phlegm into his face; and Mulder reached past him and snagged a kleenex, and held him until the coughing spell eased up."My chest hurts," Alex complained, letting his head fall sleepily onto Mulder's shoulder."Cough syrup," Mulder suggested. "Maybe stronger cough syrup," making a mental note to get up and shower and dress and go back out to the drugstore before it closed that evening. Sometime after the afterglow had finished fading.Alex shifted position, glanced up at him. "You know, you're going to catch this now, too," he said, making it sound like an accusation.Mulder shrugged. "I'll live.""Yeah, but who's going to take care of you?" And the concern in Alex's eyes was a thing of wonder to behold.No choice but to kiss him. No choice at all.More cough syrup, and settling back against the sticky sheets together. "I should rub you down with more of that menthol crap," Mulder said thoughtfully, to himself."Dangerous," Alex commented. "Too much body contact. If that stuff migrates, we're both screwed."He considered the statement. "If that stuff migrates," Mulder amended, "there isn't going to be anything remotely resembling screwing going on for a very long time."Alex chuckled sleepily; and Mulder thought: //He's fucking gorgeous when he smiles.//"I think you'll keep me warm enough," Alex decided, and Mulder pulled him closer, determined to do exactly that.A nap seemed like an extraordinarily good idea, and Alex was already half-asleep -- Mulder closed his eyes, and let himself drift.-------"Mulder. Mulder."Blinking sleepily at the ceiling, Mulder thought hazily: //Haven't we done this already?//He glanced at the source of the voice hesitantly, fearful of what he might see...But this time, Alex was merely sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing the discarded sweats, nudging Mulder's foot impatiently. "I'm hungry," he announced.Mulder allowed himself a small sigh of relief. "Beats having a gun pointed at you," he muttered, under his breath.It took Alex a moment to remember, apparently; then his face darkened. "I'm sorry about that," he said, very quietly."It's all right. I understand.""Do you?""Yeah... I really think I do." Mulder sat up in bed, reached out and took Alex's hand. "Lunch..." glancing at the dim light coming through the window, amending it mid-stream, "dinner sounds good.""Let's go out," Alex suggested.Mulder shot him a dubious look. "Breathe deeply."Looking annoyed, the other man drew a deep, deep breath --and promptly started coughing again; but the sound of it was nowhere as harsh and ominous as it had been the night before."All right. If you bundle up warmly.""Mulder, you sound like someone's mother." Alex inclined his head toward the bathroom door. "Do you want to get in there before I shower?""Maybe we could shower together this time?" making it sound like a question, even though it wasn't a question at all.Another annoyed glance. "You're not going to allow me the least bit of modesty about this, are you?""No. No, I'm not." //Healing,// Mulder thought, //healing is a good thing.//Alex sighed. "All right. If you insist."And showering was good. Warm water, warmer skin... "Don't look at me," in a small, sullen voice, and, "It's all right," punctuated by a long kiss. Soap, slippery suds, clinging tightly together, sweet friction -- and so intense that again, mere touch was enough; a shattering shared orgasm that had Mulder grabbing for the shower rail to keep them both from falling."I think I'm glad you insisted," was Alex's comment afterwards, as Mulder rubbed him dry.Dinner was Chinese again, at his companion's request; and Mulder watched him order three of the starred menu items ("Extra Hot N Spicy!") and douse them with hot mustard, wondering absently what his mouth would taste like afterwards, toying with the idea of leaning over the table and catching him between bites of food just to find out. He'd grown sufficiently accustomed to seeing Alex without it that the prosthesis was actually disorienting; he knew very well that the apparent left arm was fake, and it bothered him somehow to witness the falsehood. Of course, given the man's profession, it was probably wisest to conceal the disability as much as possible...//...his profession...//...and all at once, the reality of the situation crashed in on Mulder with numbing force. //Good lord, what am I doing?//He had no idea what alerted the other man to the change; but suddenly Krycek was staring at him sharply, food forgotten. "Mulder?"And Mulder looked at Krycek -- at Alex -- seeing the concern and the fear and the edge of hard coldness beginning to slide over his face like a mask -- and didn't know what the hell to say."Shit. I knew it. I knew it," and the openness, the vulnerability, was gone as if it had never existed.Paradoxically, the alteration in the other man's expression was all he needed. //That's why. That's what I'm doing.//"Don't," Mulder said, reaching across the table to take Alex's hand.But the suspicion lingered. "Why not? Sooner or later, you're bound to come to your senses," bitterly; and Krycek wrenched his hand from Mulder's grasp, pushed his plate away. "I'm not hungry anymore.""Eat, damn it!" Exasperated, Mulder pushed the plate back toward him. "You want me to pretend I know what's going on between us? I don't. But that doesn't mean I want it to stop.""Yeah. Yeah, right. As if I don't know what you were thinking just now. Like I said: sooner or later, you'll come to your senses." But Alex picked up his fork again, began to spear water chestnuts aimlessly.Mulder sighed. "Just tell me why," he said plaintively. "Why do you do the things you do?""You think I have a choice?" A piercing, penetrating stare. "Mulder, you were cast into the life you're living now before you were born. Your role, your quest, your 'choices', they were all carefully structured for you. You're living exactly the life that they meant for you to lead." The eyes flickered away. "And so am I. I never had a choice either. Not for a single fucking moment. The only choice I've ever had is to get myself killed, so that it will all finally end -- and I'm not that suicidal; I want to live for as long as I can." Twitch of a shoulder, slight movement of the abbreviated arm. "Even if it means living like this. I do what I have to, to survive. That's all I can do."Mulder contemplated that for a moment, feeling the truth of it in his bones."But that's not enough for you, is it?" again with that terrible bitterness.He looked up. "Who says it's not?""You. The look on your face." And Krycek's mask slipped, just a little, just for a moment; enough for the pain to show through.//The pain. That's why. Because whoever he is, whatever he does, he's human enough to feel pain for it. And that makes all the difference.//"Look a little closer," Mulder said softly, "tell me what else you see."Alex looked. Saw... something. Sighed. "This can't work.""We can make it work.""There's no time...""We'll make time.""How?" Then, more quietly: "Why?"A million answers chased each other through Mulder's head, none of them completely accurate, and finally he settled on the one that seemed the most true: "Because this feels right."Another long, long sigh."Doesn't it?" Mulder persisted, suddenly afraid. //Doesn't it?//"You are crazy," Alex told him. Sighed again. "And so am I."Mulder felt his mouth stretch into a wide grin. "Whatever works," he murmured. "Whatever works."-------Alex pulled the motel door shut behind himself, and Mulder felt himself shiver. All through dinner, during the drive back, this had weighed on his mind... previously, it had just happened, but this was different; this was planned. Premeditated. Not just one-thing-leading-to-another, no mere burst of sympathy or desire overwhelming common sense -- no justifications for this, and no excuses.He turned, slowly, to look at Alex.Green eyes met his levelly. Standing straight and tall, pride and strength and no small amount of defensiveness emanating from the other man. "Well," Alex said softly."Well," Mulder echoed, hearing his voice crack, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.The other man studied him -- shook his head slightly, turned away. "I guess you probably want to get some sleep.""Did I say that?" Mulder wondered aloud. "When did I say that?"A small shrug. "This is your last chance to back out," Alex said, not meeting his eyes. Remote, distant in manner --//afraid,// Mulder realized, in a burst of clarity."Come to bed, Alex," he murmured.For a moment, time stood still; then Alex shrugged again, feigning unconcern, and began to undress. Mulder watched, marveling at the man's grace and economy of movement despite the impairment -- then went to him, and began to help.Letting fingertips glide over skin, scarred and smooth alike, unfastening things until there was nothing but skin. Feeling that single hand undressing him with consummate skill, feeling his own body grow deliciously tense in response to that touch. Concentrating exclusively on the mundane task of undressing and being undressed, not letting himself think beyond that, until the task was complete.Then the clothes were gone, no more obstacles, no distractions -- and Alex raised his gaze to meet Mulder's, and time stood still.Those eyes, those green eyes -- he was falling into them, sinking against the heated skin and falling into Alex's gaze, being enfolded in an embrace so tight and strong that he barely noticed it was lopsided, clinging to Alex in return, skin and skin and more skin, and all the while falling into Alex's green, green eyes. //Quicksand...//Being sucked under. And wanting only more.Mulder dipped his head, his lips meeting Alex's -- no thought, simply instinct, blind need -- and the kiss captivated him, captured him, dispelled the last traces of doubt and fear, leaving only desire.Soft vibration of Alex's moan against his lips. Pliant in Mulder's arms, surrendering......breaking free to cough, sudden harsh rasping spasms. "Sorry," Alex muttered, eyes averted.And Mulder smiled. Ran his thumb over Alex's lower lip. "Don't worry about it," he responded, and bent his head lower to fasten his lips against the other man's neck.Another moan, more urgent, as Alex's hips thrust forward with involuntary need -- //need, yes, more,// and Mulder pressed back against him, gasping at the feel of it; rubbing together, friction, sparking flame between them. //Yes.//Need, and more, and more, yet Mulder could not bear to let go of Alex long enough to maneuver them both toward the bed, could not relinquish the contact even for those mere seconds....Alex wrenched away, coughed again, more deeply. "Shit," he grumbled, in disgust.Mulder couldn't help but laugh. "Alex, it's okay.""No," in a low, intense growl, "it's not," and all at once Alex was seizing him, kissing him, fingers digging into his flesh, a furious whirl of passion, obviously trying to hold it back, but the coughing began once more.So easy, to pull Alex close, hold him snugly as his body shuddered. So natural to kiss his forehead, stroke gentle fingers over satiny hair. "Cough syrup," Mulder murmured.Alex managed to still the coughing, shook his head. "The taste...""We'll cope," Mulder answered. "C'mon," urging Alex toward the bed.A few quick chugs of ruby liquid, an all-over shudder that had nothing to do with pleasure. "This had better work," Alex said dolefully. "I'm getting sick of these interruptions," and Mulder felt himself laugh; he leaned over and kissed Alex -- //that does taste awful,// he found himself thinking, but didn't consider saying aloud.Then the kiss deepened, and Mulder could taste nothing but Alex.He was pushed backward onto the mattress -- Alex landed atop him, pressing against him, all strength and body heat; and Mulder moaned and arched up into him. Luxuriating in the sensation of arousal mingled with submission -- and then Alex began to kiss his way down Mulder's body, and just the suggestion of what would come next was almost enough to bring Mulder off.Nipples, chest, ribs, stomach, finally... and Mulder cried out as talented lips drew him inside, tongue drawing patterns against oversensitized flesh, sucking... lost himself in it for a few breaths, then //but I want to taste him// flickered across his hazy brain; and he endured the agonizing loss of that pleasure long enough to shift position, wriggle around until he could reach Alex, too.Long time since he'd done this. A long, long time; but some skills were never forgotten. Amazing, to realize that he'd missed the feel of a cock in his mouth -- astonishing, that the knowledge of who he was sucking made it that much sweeter. Delicious, not merely the taste, but the tremors and groans of pleasure he was evoking... and then Alex reapplied himself to his earlier endeavor, and the ecstasy was almost too great to bear.It could have been over in a few short minutes; instead, they settled into a rhythm. Pleasuring each other, without striving for that sudden sharp ascent to culmination. Oh so sweet to sink down, deeper and deeper, into the comforting weight and pressure...And Mulder stopped thinking altogether. Forgot entirely about the Bureau and case files, about his longtime nemesis, about the conflict being spawned between heart and mind. Forgot about everything but the seemingly endless pleasure of sucking and being sucked, was so swept up in it that he almost forgot to come......but suddenly there was that taut pressure in his balls, muscles clenching involuntarily, and Alex was whimpering and thrusting deeper into his mouth, closer closer closer until it happened for them both at once, in such perfect unison that their climaxes, their cries, seemed to blend into a single orgasm, a single howl.Gradually, Mulder came back to himself, to find his head pillowed comfortably on Alex's thigh; he nuzzled the other man's spent cock briefly, then began the arduous process of forcing sex-drained limbs to move. It took awhile, but finally he was lying in Alex's embrace, snuggling close, tasting sweat-dampened skin.Sleepy eyes flickered open; and Alex regarded him steadily; Mulder gazed back silently. Not knowing what to say, only that what they'd just shared transcended words.Then those lips captured his again: taste of his own essence on Alex's tongue, intimate and precious.//I could get used to this,// Mulder thought.Unwillingly, his eyelids drifted shut, and he slept.-------He awoke alone. No sound of water running in the bathroom. Bedsheets cold around him. Subliminal feel of emptiness permeating the motel room. Most telling of all: Krycek's clothes and prosthesis, missing.//Fuck,// Mulder thought, feeling something hot and fierce stinging liquid at his eyes.Glancing around the room, hoping he'd missed something, some sign that Alex would return -- heart lurching, wrenching, at the sight of the cough syrup forlornly abandoned on the nightstand. Lurching anew, differently, at the sight of the folded piece of paper tucked neatly underneath the bottle.He unfolded it, blinked hard, and read: You are an enigma. You are a paradox. You are a treasure.These last few days have been incredible. I can't tell you how special this time has been, or let you know how hard it is to end it this way.You asked if you could take care of me, and promised me my freedom in return for this 'favor'. Two gifts... but the price for the latter would have proven, eventually, too much for you to pay. Let me give you this one thing: let me pay the price for you.Walking away from you now is the hardest thing I've ever done. But I will see you again. And will miss you desperately, every moment, until I do.Mulder blinked hard, again, and re-read the unsigned note.Set it aside on the nightstand. Reached out for it a moment later, folding it neatly back along its original lines. Then unfolded it again, and read it once more.//Alex,// he thought, a mournful dirge inside his mind.His arms ached to hold him, just one more time. His chest ached,remembering the feel of that body pressed close...Come to think of it, he ached all over.Mulder drew a deep, deep breath......and began to cough.Hoarse, harsh, racking coughs; and he remembered a leather-jacketed figure huddled painfully in the front seat of his car. //Damn it,// he thought, //I caught his cold.//But it was Alex's cold, and somehow, in a twisted sort of way, that made it all right.Wearily, Mulder reached for the bottle of cough syrup and chugged it, several long gulps, the way he'd seen Alex do. He had a long drive ahead of him, after all. A long, lonely drive. Alone.-------(Epilogue)It was cold, even with the heat turned up in his apartment and the quilt wrapped around himself.And he was coughing, endlessly coughing, so hard and so often that his ribs ached from it.//I want to die,// Mulder thought dismally.Scully had paid him a visit, bearing medicine and heating pad and her mother's chicken soup; the last had been very good, but unfortunately had only stayed down for fifteen minutes or so. He was hungry, but the coughing kept his stomach in turmoil; even tea was a risky thing.Miserable, Mulder closed his eyes and tried to sleep.The sound of his door opening and closing roused him from his fog. Instinctively, he tried to move, to reach for his weapon... but it was too much of an effort; if the Consortium had come to off him, he determined wearily, they could damn well go ahead and do it. A cool hand settled on his forehead, and he forced his eyes to open.Eyes, gazing back. Green eyes."I told you I'd see you again," Alex said; knelt beside the couch and kissed Mulder gently. "Who else is going to take care of you?"The world was spinning, he ached all over, couldn't stop shivering, felt sicker than he'd ever been.And Mulder smiled. And couldn't stop smiling.-------/end
11361993	Well You o	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Akaashi Keiji, Kozume Kenma", "Fandom": "Haikyuu!!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by SadBanana4527", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-01T00:00:00", "words": "429", "Additional Tags": "Trash Talking, Bokuto cannot handle it, Akaashi Keiji & Kozume Kenma Friendship", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji & Kozume Kenma", "Series": "This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things", "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 }	It was a practice match (semi-official, on the books, not just practicing together). Nekoma was up by one when Bokuto heard it the first time.“You smell like Bokuto threw up on you. What? Did he see your face?”He didn’t know who had said it, so he just slammed the ball extra hard.They were now tied.“If you're all blood in the same veins, then your person must have high cholesterol.” That was Akaashi. But who was he talking to? Point for Nekoma.“I can’t believe you used to be the best mom in the world.”Tied.“Thats a bad sunburn. Oh wait, that’s your face trying to escape.” That was Akaashi again … He almost missed the spike.Point for Nekoma anyways.“You’re about as useful as a knitted condom.” Wait… that can’t be… Bokuto eyed the other side of the net. Three players at the net: Lev, Kuroo, and Kenma. It has to be one of them .He won that spike.“I thought a little girl from Kansas dropped a house on you.”Bokuto heard him say it that time. But who is Akaashi talking to!? “I’m jealous of people that don’t know you.” Wait… He missed the point.“KENMA!” He pointed.“I can explain it to you…” Kenma looked at Akaashi through the net, “but I can’t understand it for you.”“What?” Bokuto eyed Akaashi. Point for Nekoma.“You are a sad little man, and you have my pity.” Akaashi smiled.“Aka...ashi?” Bokuto’s jaw dropped.“Isn’t it rather dangerous to use one’s entire vocabulary in a single sentence?” Kenma fired back.Bokuto missed the spike again.“You’re as sharp as a marble.” Akaashi smiled again.Kenma smiled back. “I could carve a better man out of a banana.”Spike = missed. Game called. Nekoma wins.“WHAT IS GOING ON?!” Bokuto fell over.Kenma smiled.“You know Akaashi, maybe if we tell your boyfriend his brain is an app he’ll start using it.”Akaashi sighed. “I wish that were true.”“Good game.” Kenma smiled.“You too.”Every one went over to their coaches, leaving Bokuto laying on the floor staring at the ceiling."Akaashi, are you going to pick him up?" Coach asked.Akaashi sighed. "Oi," he walked over. "Ready for the team meeting?""EVERYTHING I KNOW IS A LIE!" He sat up and screamed before laying back down."Kenma, you broke my boyfriend. Fix it." Akaashi called out before returning to his team."That would imply he wasn't broken already.""KENMA'S NOT INNOCENT!?" Bokuto started sobbing."Well..." Nekomata laughed. "I believe the expression is 'DUH.'"
11389731	she thought	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Jung Wheein, Moonbyul - Character, Ahn Hyejin \| Hwasa", "Fandom": "Mamamoo", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "503", "Additional Tags": "wheebyul, very minor wheebyul, Angst, ambiguous - Freeform, Drabble, Onesided Love, Pining, Watching, Hinted Depression, hinted pining, this came from the upset i felt radiating from my wheepup, wheein being introverted, byul is just byul, byul is insecure, yongsun and hyejin are mentioned, byul pov btw", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jung Wheein/Moonbyul, Jung Wheein/Moon Byulyi \| Moonbyul", "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 }	she watched as she broke, crumbled into pieces of her that could not be fixed.byul concluded; wheein was a mystery.--she sees her, smiling like the angel (byul thinks) she is, dimple deeper than the vast sea, jumping around like she does when she's excited. she watches her lips part to release a melodic laughter- one that is contagiously so. she traces her nose bridge up to her forehead, back down to read her eyes; she reads her gaze. byul is swallowed by the depth of her irises, of what appears to be happiness- but laced with fear. she studies her gestures, the big ones where she flails her arms and catches hyejin's limbs, the small ones where she glances down to her own flapping arm, grimacing.byul knows that she is afraid. but of what? byul is afraid to ask. she catches wheein's eye. byul looks away.--- if its anything, byul feels regret. and if anything more, she feels remorse. she'd seen it coming. more than anything, more than anyone, she had watched her. she was her older sister; she was a friend, family, a partner (in crime, or not?). byul was a coward. she couldn't bring herself to ask her, 'what's wrong?' wheein, who shone brighter than the diamonds hyejin sang, who stood tougher than the notes yongsun sang, wheein, who was a shell full of nothing but bravery. wheein was empty. byul knew. she'd seen the way she slowly closed in on herself. she laughed on cue at variety shows. she read off the script. she repeated her jokes and she laughed at hyejin only when she was in the conversation. byul had watched the young, petite girl more than she'd let on, and she noticed. everyone just watched, but byulyi paid attention. and then byulyi could only question why. yongsun-unnie went up to wheein and talked and talked and talked and got shut out. she'd seen her come and go, leave her house and stop byul on several visits on the pretense of being busy. byul knew she was visiting wheein. and byul was a coward, because she stood there, and watched, and waited, dumbly like the passerby she is (and will always be). hyejinnie was wheein's best friend. they did everything together, from drinking to sleeping to the shower. they were best buds, and even then, hyejin drew the line. really, byul wanted to be the one wheein needed, but when hyejin started leaving wheein alone, byul knew she had no hand in this.both hyejin and yongsun had thrown her the look that said, looked and breathed 'disappointment', and byul knew she was more than a disappointment and a half. she knew she had to do something, but ultimately she didn't.and so she stood there, like the extra she was, watching, staring, and wondering, as her best friend- her family, her companion- fell into the vastness of the sea, now deeper than her dimples and irises combined.it wasn't that byulyi knew. she just assumed.
11317056	syrup	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Mikleo (Tales of Zestiria), Sorey (Tales of Zestiria)", "Fandom": "Tales of Zestiria", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by pseudosuicide", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-27T00:00:00", "words": "3,572", "Additional Tags": "Breakfast in Bed, Kissing, food in bed. literally in bed. a mess., Whipped cream fight, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting", "Relationship": "Mikleo/Sorey (Tales of Zestiria)", "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 }	Mikleo’s eyes flutter open, and he rolls to the side, stopping only when he finds himself trapped by the blankets surrounding him. The sun is already up, filtering in through the window, indicating it’s already late in the day. His head is fuzzy, and he feels heavy. He overslept...he can’t help but wonder what happened to his alarm.He reaches out, hand feeling along his pillows, until he finds the edge of the bed, and the night stand his phone is on. It takes him feeling around a bit before he picks the phone up, and holds it above his face, pressing the home button as he lifts it up.The screen tells him it’s shortly after 11 AM. He groans, and drops his arm, phone slipping from his fingers as it hits the pillow. A part of him wants to go back to sleep, let his body win, and drag him back under. But he can also feel his body screaming at him, telling him he should be getting up.He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more than it already had been by sleep. He had fallen asleep with it tied back, but his hair was only just to his shoulders. Not at all long enough to properly stay back. The tie had come out sometime in the night, lost to the blankets and pillows that currently surrounded him. He lets his eyes fall closed, and he can feel himself being pulled downward, back towards sleep.There’s a shift in the bed, and Mikleo barely manages to open his eyes before a pair of lips are being pressed against his. Hands cup his cheeks, fingers gentle against his skin.The lips are gone just as quick, thumbs rubbing in circular patterns against his face.Mikleo lets out a breath, his eyes fully opening to stare up into the green eyes peering down into his.“Sorey…”Sorey grins, leaning down to press another kiss to Mikleo’s lips, only to have Mikleo twist his face, Sorey’s lips brushing against his skin. Mikleo scrunches his nose, turning his face back so he’s looking up into Sorey’s eyes again.“Your breath stinks.”Sorey can’t help but laugh, one hand coming up to cover it. “Sorry. Didn’t think it would matter much.” He leans down, nuzzling his face against Mikleo’s neck. He lets out a breath, and presses his palms against the bed, lowering himself down on top of Mikleo. His arms snake up, and around Mikleo’s neck. He can feel Mikleo’s hair tickling against his fingers, and he gently brushes it back.“Did you sleep well?”Mikleo groans again, having been reminded that he overslept again. “...I guess? I should have been up ages ago...I don’t know what happened to my alarm…”“Oh. I shut it off.” Sorey peers at Mikleo innocently, “I wanted you to have the chance to sleep in? You deserve it!”“I had things to do…” Mikleo sighs, running a hand through his hair. He still couldn’t get used to it at this length. He had had short hair all his life, and letting it grow was...something. It wasn’t even all that long yet. But Sorey seemed to love running his fingers through it more than he had when it was shorter. “Well...I guess it doesn’t matter now.”Sorey’s grin is back, and he presses a kiss against Mikleo’s temple. “Good! Today I’m gonna take care of you, okay! You get a day off!” He pushes himself up and off Mikleo, and scampers off the bed. “Wait here!” He dashes out of the door to their shared room, and disappears down the hall.Mikleo blinks in confusion, and pushes himself up, blankets pooling around his waist. “Sorey…?” He can hear some clanging and crashes coming from somewhere in the house. “Sorey? What are you doing?” He twists, pushing his legs off the bed.“It’s okay, Mikleo! Stay there, don’t come out here!!”Mikleo all but feels his stomach drop. What has Sorey done if he doesn’t want him to come out. “What’s going on, Sorey?”“Nothing!” Sorey’s voice is closer now, and the door creeks open slightly, and Sorey’s head appears, “Close your eyes?”Mikleo stares at Sorey, seeming rather unimpressed as he contemplates his options. Sorey pouts in response, fluttering his eyelashes, “Pretty please?”Mikleo scowls in response, but leans back in the bed, and closes his eyes. He isn’t mad at all, but starting to get rather curious. Sorey is acting...a little strange. Not that it was different from how he would normally act. But something was...off today.He could hear something clattering, almost like...dishes? Mikleo frowns, and tilts his head towards the noise.“Don’t do that!”Mikleo jumps, and nearly opens his eyes in surprise before squeezing them closed. “Don’t do what?”“That…! Listen!” He can hear the way Sorey huffs, and can’t help but smile. Mikleo can hear Sorey shuffle closer, and he feels when he sits, the bed dipping to the side under his weight. There’s a moment that passed, where it feels like neither of them move, before Sorey’s fingers trail against his cheek, and tuck strands of hair behind his ear. Mikleo can’t help but lean into the touch, enjoying the way Sorey curls his fingers around his face. The hand pulls away, and Mikleo’s eyelids flutter in response, and almost immediately, Sorey’s hand presses against his face. “Not yet! Don’t open them yet!”Mikleo laughs, and nods his head against Sorey’s hand, “Okay, sorry.”Sorey’s hand draws away again, and the only sound is his movements. There’s a bit of a clatter, causing Mikleo to draw his brows together, before he feels something flat, and slightly heavy being placed on his lap.“Okay...you can look.”Mikleo’s eyes flicker open, and the first thing they fall to is what Sorey placed in his lap. There sits a tray, with a plate of food. There are waffles, with a variety of berries on them, surrounded by whipped cream. There are a couple little jars with what looked...syrup in them? Mikleo frowns, and touches a finger to one, feeling the warmth coming from it. “This…” He glances up, and is met with the most hopeful look he had ever seen on Sorey’s face. His cheeks are tinted light pink, and he’s leaning forward, eyes wide and lips parted. Mikleo can’t help the laugh that escapes him, and he presses a hand to his lips. “What is this Sorey?”“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed…! Is it okay?”Mikleo nods his head, smiling warmly. “Yeah. It is...I’m just surprised. What is this for?”“I told you! I wanted to take care of you today…! So sit back!” Sorey pushes a hand to Mikleo’s shoulder, before crawling onto the bed, around to Mikleo’s other side. He sits himself there, and scoots closer. One of his arms snake around Mikleo’s waist, and he draws him closer. Sorey presses his lips to Mikleo’s cheek, and taps a finger to one of the syrups. “What do you want? There’s a berry one, or just regular maple.”Mikleo leans into Sorey, enjoying the warmth of his presence. He can feel Sorey’s fingers moving against his side, working a circular pattern.“Hmm...why not put a little maple on, then we can try the berry…?”“Okay!” Sorey scoops the maple syrup up, and pours just a bit over the waffles. Mikleo watches curiously, a small frown appearing on his lips again.“Did you make this?”“Yes? Well. I had some help…? I just rewarmed them in the toaster. And...cut up the berries and did everything else. Mostly I had help with the waffles. I did make them myself though!” Sorey is leaning closer, and Mikleo is watching him with wide eyes. It feels like Mikleo’s breath is caught in his throat. Sorey keeps leaning closer, very slowly.“S-Sorey…”When he’s finally inches from Mikleo’s lips, instead of kissing him, Sorey lifts a hand, holding a forkful of food up to Mikleo’s lips. Mikleo’s face turns red, and he sucks in a breath, his eyes falling on the food. Once Sorey knows Mikleo’s attention is on the fork, he moves it closer, letting it hover close, just touching against his lips.“Here.” Sorey still looks hopeful, and Mikleo feels his face flush even darker. But he opens his mouth, and leans forward, closing his lips around the fork.Sorey pulls the fork back, and watches Mikleo for his reaction.Mikleo lets his eyes fall closed as he chews, savoring the taste of the berries and maple on his tongue. When he opens them again, he isn’t surprised to find Sorey watching him.“This...is really good?”“Why do you sound so surprised!” Sorey is pouting, hands in fists, as he presses them into his knees. The fork is still in his hand. “I can...cook!”Mikleo laughs, reaching over to take the fork from Sorey’s hand, and works at cutting away more waffle with it. “I never said that? This is just really amazing, Sorey. Thank you.”Sorey brightens, lips forming into a wide grin. “Of course…! I’m--” He’s cut off as Mikleo slips the forkful of food into his mouth. Sorey’s eyes widen, and he closes his lips on the fork, chewing on the food after Mikleo takes the fork back. “...This is pretty good.”Mikleo covers his mouth with a hand, hiding his smile, as Sorey reaches over and steals the fork back, cutting it into the waffles, leaving it there. He picks the berry syrup up, and pours a bit on top, before picking the fork up, and scooping up a small helping, and adding some whipped cream.“Here.”He holds the forkful towards Mikleo. Mikleo huffs, reaching up to hook his fingers around Sorey’s wrist. “I can feed myself, Sorey.”“I know. I want to. I said I want to take care of you right? So.” Sorey pulls Mikleo’s hand from his wrist, and as he moves it to his lip, twists his own hand around to link their fingers together. “Please let me do this.”Mikleo flushes, and eyes Sorey, but opens his mouth anyway, letting Sorey feed him the food. He swallows, letting out a breath. His cheeks still feel warm, and he’s positive his face is still flushed. Sorey’s free hand slips from his, and runs down Mikleo’s back, his fingers drumming gently as he moves. Mikleo’s eyes shift upward, and find Sorey leaning over him, watching. He feels his breath catch again, and he lowers his gaze again, feeling his flush deepen. Sorey grins, and leans forward, pressing a kiss to Mikleo’s nose.“Here, have some more.” He cuts more waffle, and holds it out to Mikleo. Mikleo hums, and reaches up, taking the fork from Sorey, and pops it into his own mouth. Sorey pouts, and shifts closer, reaching a hand up, wiggling his fingers. “Hey, don’t take that…!”Mikleo licks the fork clean, as he pulls it from his mouth, and twirls it around his fingers. “What if I don’t give it back?”Sorey puffs his cheeks out, reaching for the fork. Mikleo pulls away, holding it back away from him with a laugh. “Mikleo…!” Sorey leans closer, his chest pressing against Mikleo’s, “Come on!”Mikleo smiles, and presses his other hand under Sorey’s chin, tilting his head up. He leans forward, pressing his lips against Sorey’s quickly, drawing back to look into his eyes. Sorey’s face is red now too, and he’s got a pout on his lip, but his eyes are sparkling.“Thank you, Sorey. I love it.”Sorey’s pout disappears, and he jumps on Mikleo, kissing him. Mikleo falls in surprise, taking Sorey down with him. His arms wrap around Sorey’s neck, and he pulls him closer. Sorey nips at Mikleo’s lips, and pulls back, smiling broadly. “I’m glad! Now...where is that fork?”There’s a pause, as Mikleo blinks, tilting his head back. When Sorey had jumped on him, he had...dropped the fork. He hadn’t even had that good of a grip on it to begin with. “Uh,” Mikleo looks back at Sorey, looking rather sheepish, “I don’t know?”“Eeehhh?” Sorey shifts, looking back towards Mikleo’s hands, “You don’t know? What did you do?” He stares at Mikleo for a moment, then looks around the bed, “I don’t...see it? Well. That’s a problem isn’t it.” Sorey huffs, and pauses to think. “Hmm...what do. Oh, I know.” He twists, and reaches over towards the plate, putting his finger right into the whipped cream. Once his finger is covered well enough, he shifts his attention to Mikleo again, a grin on his face. “Here.” He presses his finger against Mikleo’s lips.Mikleo’s entire face goes completely red, even more-so then it had previously. His blush runs down his neck, and up his ears. But he opens his mouth, and lets Sorey slide his finger in. Mikleo closes his lips around his finger, and gently sucks the whipped cream off, his tongue running along the tip of Sorey's finger.Sorey pulls his finger back, and replaces it with his lips, wasting no time in deepening the kiss, tasting the syrup, berries and whipped cream on Mikleo’s tongue. As he moves his lips against Mikleo’s, he finds their lips sticking, leftover syrup sticking them together.“This really isn’t going how I planned.” Sorey pulls back, gently brushing hair from Mikleo’s face, careful to make sure not to use the hand that had whipped cream previously on it. “Well...How about this?” Sorey’s reaching for the plate again, and picks up a berry, and presses it against Mikleo’s lips. Mikleo takes it in his mouth, chewing it slowly. His eyes are watching Sorey, trying to figure out what his plan was supposed to be.Sorey chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully as he leans over, scooping up more whipped cream. “Well...we’ve come this far already so…” He grins, “I guess my original plan is out the window.”Seeing the look in Sorey’s eyes cause Mikleo to pull back, but laying on the bed makes moving away impossible. Instead, Mikleo is trapped there, allowing Sorey to reach over and smear the whipped cream down Mikleo’s face. Mikleo’s eyes go wide, and he wiggles under Sorey, trying to push him away.“S...Sorey! Stop…!”Sorey laughs, and scuttles off of Mikleo, and crawls backwards, finding safety behind the tray of food.Mikleo huffs, reaching up to wipe the whipped cream off his cheek with the tips of his fingers. He cringes as he gently pulls his hair from the whipped cream. Mikleo stares at his hair, at the whipped cream on it. He glances up, eyes narrowed as they find Sorey.Mikleo reaches forward, and picks up a small piece of waffle, dips it in the whipped cream, then throws it at Sorey. Sorey squeaks, and ducks out of the way, laughing as it misses him.“Come on, that’s not fair!” Mikleo pushes himself forward reaching over the food, grabbing at Sorey’s wrist, “You got it in my hair! Stay put!”“No way…! I don’t want it in mine!” Sorey pulls on his wrist, causing Mikleo to fall forward, into the tray of food. It knocks over, sending the syrup, and waffles and whipped cream into Mikleo’s lap. He yells, and lets Sorey go, jerking away from the mess. His legs, bare, as he was still in his sleeping shorts, are covered. There is syrup on the bedding beside the pile of whipped cream and waffles. Mikleo’s face is pale as he stares at the mess. Sorey scoots forward, his eyes wide as he stares at the mess as well.“This...this is not what I wanted...I’m sorry…” Sorey reaches up, and rubs at the back of his neck. “Here, let me help you.” Sorey reaches for the plate, but before he can grab it, Mikleo scoops up a handful of the whipped cream, and presses it into Sorey’s face.Sorey jerks away, his eyes wide. The whipped cream is spread across his cheek, over his nose. He stares at Mikleo in shock for a moment, before the biggest grin spreads across his face. He grabs a handful of the stuff himself, and pounces on Mikleo. Mikleo’s hands come up to catch at Sorey’s shoulders, but not before a good chunk of whipped cream is spread across his cheek, and right into his hair. Sorey’s laugh is filled with pure joy before he finds himself being kicked off Mikleo. Mikleo rolls onto his knees, and before Sorey can get up crawls into him.“You got it in my hair…!”Sorey laughs in response, and is cut off when Mikleo wipes whipped cream from his face, and smears it straight into Sorey’s hair. It takes a moment, but Sorey bursts into another fit of laughter, his hands moving to cup Mikleo’s hips. It takes him no time, or energy to flip Mikleo off him, and toss him onto the bed. Sorey pins Mikleo’s hands down, and leans over him, grinning widely. But when his eyes find where Mikleo is lying, they go wide. He looks horrified.“Sorey? What…?” Mikleo draws his eyebrows together, and he shifts, moving to see if he can find out what the look on Sorey’s face is for.“No, Mik! Don’t move!” Sorey’s hands are fast, and they clamp down on either side of Mikleo’s face and hold him still. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. If you move…” His eyes flick beside Mikleo’s head, where he’s inches from the fallen tray, and the pile of food. And the syrup, soaking the blankets. Mikleo blinks, his eyes getting wider as he stares up into Sorey’s eyes. He’s slowly putting the pieces together, and it’s showing on his face.“Sorey...you didn’t…”“No! Almost, but…” Sorey lets go of Mikleo’s face, and he wraps his arms around Mikleo’s shoulders, and pulls him up. Once he’s sure Mikleo is completely away from the syrup, and sitting properly, Sorey lets him go.Mikleo almost instantly hits him.“OW!” Sorey rubs his arm, and pouts, “What was that for?” “You nearly put me in the syrup! Do you realize I wouldn’t be able to get that out of my hair!” Mikleo hits him again, “And this mess…!”Sorey continues to rub his arm, as he studies Mikleo. “Well...none of it got into your hair, so it’s okay? See?” Sorey lets his own arm go to gently touch his fingers into Mikleo’s hair. “This here will all wash out?” Sorey’s fingers move from his hair, to gently caress Mikleo’s cheek. Mikleo leans into the touch, his eyes falling closed. Any irritation that he had felt melted away with Sorey’s touch. The way his thumb gently rubs circles into his skin. Sorey closes the distance between them, pressing his forehead to Mikleo’s. Their noses brush as he kisses Mikleo, their lips just barely touching. “Better?”Mikleo nods slightly, leaning further into Sorey’s touch. Their lips continue to brush, and Sorey coaxes Mikleo closer, pulling him into his lap. It gives him the leverage to properly close the distance between them, kissing him properly. Mikleo’s fingers curl into his hair, and he can tell by the way he falters in their kiss when his fingers find whipped cream. Sorey gently bites at Mikleo’s bottom lip, effectively focusing all of Mikleo’s attention back on him.Mikleo shifts in Sorey’s lap, and breaks away from the kiss with a groan. The syrup that spilled on him earlier is still there, and he had almost forgotten about it until he feels it now, sticking his legs and Sorey’s together. The feel of their bare skin sticking together sent shivers down his spine, but the way the syrup was between them…Mikleo doesn’t have a chance to dwell on it, as Sorey tugs him back into a kiss. He presses kiss after kiss against Mikleo’s lips. “Don’t think about it.”“But--”Sorey’s hands run down Mikleo’s side, and he pulls him into another kiss, enjoying the way Mikleo moans into his mouth. Sorey pulls away, and presses a quick kiss to the tip of Mikleo’s nose.“What do you say about a shower, Mikleo? We could clean up...then work on...cleaning all of this? Not sure about the blankets…”Mikleo laughs, “We might need to throw them out. I’m not sure we’ll be able to salvage them. Or...our clothes.” He leans into Sorey, nuzzling against his shoulder.“Well…” Sorey’s got this grin on his face again, and his fingers work their way under the hem of Mikleo’s shirt, “Let’s get this off then, and work on cleaning up. Then we can go about our day?”Mikleo nods, and lets Sorey lift his shirt over his head. The shirt is thrown aside, and Sorey’s hands are on the bare skin of Mikleo’s sides.“Guess we’ll have to take a raincheck on breakfast in bed. Maybe next time it’ll be less messy?”Mikleo snorts in response, and pulls away, out of Sorey’s grasp and slips off the bed. He makes a face as he glances down at the syrup on his legs.“...Maybe next time avoid the syrup.”Sorey laughs in response, but follows behind Mikleo, as they both make their way to the bathroom so they can clean themselves up.
11364270	go back to sleep	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Tasha Zapata, Patterson", "Fandom": "Blindspot", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by pattersonszapata", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-01T00:00:00", "words": "466", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Patterson/Tasha Zapata", "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 }	Patterson felt the cold air of her bedroom sweep against her skin, blindly reaching out to the spot next to her where a warm body should be lying. She blinked her eyes open when she only felt the sheets, frowning slightly because they were cold.She shivered as she got up from the bed and put on a fluffy robe, slowly making her way to the living room. "Tasha?" Patterson asked, a smile forming on her lips when she noticed that the brunette was playing one of her favorite games. "I thought you hated Star Wars?" She questioned in amusement.Tasha rolled her eyes and shot one of the creatures that were coming her way. "I couldn't sleep and felt like playing something instead of waking you up." She explained, furiously pressing the console buttons.Patterson grinned and sat down next to her girlfriend, resting her head on her shoulder and closing her eyes. "You know I wouldn't have minded if you had woken me up." She whispered and shrugged."I know," Tasha said as she paused the game. She placed the console on the coffee table then wrapped her arms around Patterson's waist to bring her closer. "Why are you even awake?"The blonde laid her head on her girlfriend's chest, wondering how she always managed to be warm despite her apartment being cold. "I was cold and you weren't there to warm me up," She pouted and Zapata felt her chest fill with love at the sight of Patterson being so damn cute."Sorry, babe. I'm here now," Tasha chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of Patterson's head, closing her eyes for a few seconds and enjoying the smell of her hair. "Let's go to bed." She said quietly and turned the TV off before standing up and bringing the blonde with her.The couple made their way to the bedroom and Patterson threw the robe on the floor before getting in the bed, followed by Tasha who immediately pulled the blankets over them and cuddled into the blonde. "Better?" The brunette agent asked and brushed her lips against the blonde's shoulder."Much better," Patterson sighed in contentment and Zapata smiled against her skin. She still couldn't believe that the blonde felt the same way about her; she always thought Patterson was out of her league and straight. Thankfully, she was wrong about both things."Go back to sleep now." Zapata whispered and the other woman just nodded. She still wasn't tired, but watching Patterson sleep was calming. The way the blonde's breath slowly evened out and her warmth were enough to make her forget about everything else in the world. Tasha felt her body relaxing and her eyes closing on their own accord and within a few minutes, she was asleep.
11381715	Snodynking	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Norway (Hetalia), Germany (Hetalia), Iceland (Hetalia), Russia (Hetalia)", "Fandom": "Hetalia: Axis Powers", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by valkyrieemblem", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-02T00:00:00", "words": "1,273", "Additional Tags": "Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, extremely one-sided snowball fights, fear norway, Fear them", "Relationship": null, "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 }	Me: Germany's coming your way. Probably trying to figure out what in the name of whoever Italy was whining about.Annoying brother: Thank you for your help, little brother ^^Me: You would do this to me if I refused. It was sadly in my best interests.Annoying brother: I wouldn't have done it to you.Me: Yeah, right. Who else would you do it to?Annoying brother: I've done it to that stupid dane at least three timesMe: He deserves it because he never learns, even though you do this EVERY FREAKING YEARAnnoying brother: That is his problem and I don't know why you're taking his sideMe: That's the last thing I'd do you idiotAnnoying brother: You're mean :(Annoying brother: How long until he gets to me?Germany eyed Iceland warily. "What are you doing?"Iceland jumped, almost dropping his phone. "Texting the annoying personification of Norway," he said after regaining his composure."Why aren't you in the meeting?" Germany asked in suspicion.Iceland just deadpanned a look at him. "We're still waiting for America and a bunch of other pathetic nations that don't know how to deal with the snow to get here. Considering how we've been waiting for three hours I'm wondering why we're still here.""We have to get things accomplished.""Get what accomplished? All that happens is England and France or Greece and Turkey or whoever else you want to say gets into a fight and it escalates from there. I still don't know why I bother to come. Oh wait, Denmark annoys Norway enough that he agrees to go to shut him up and he makes me go because he apparently actually believes that misery needs company."Germany blinked, surprised at the outburst. Iceland seemed to realize that, because he just leaned back against the wall and said with an annoyed look on his face, "Just leave me alone."He decided to walk out the door and leave him alone. He had heard enough tales from Denmark and Sweden to not want to be around an annoyed Iceland.The moment the blond walked outside the door, he tensed, eyes darting around. Granted, he hadn't completely believed Italy when he said he had been blinded by snowballs and had kind of only gone out to shut him up, but now his instincts were screaming for him to leave the warzone immediately.He took a cautious step forward, and several more steps after that. When he had gotten to the other side of the building, he finally relaxed and sighed in relief, thinking that it had just been Italy panicking as usual.That was probably one of the worst mistakes of his sort of immortal life.Germany never saw the snowballs coming. One second, he was standing up straight, looking at the admittedly beautiful snow-covered grounds, and the next he was collapsed under the weight of about a million snowballs. Gott in himmel, what is this hell?! He tried to crawl away, but the snowballs just kept coming. If he was able to form any sort of thought, he would've both question how they were able to throw with such accuracy or would have taken a leaf from Italy's book and waved a white flag.Finally, the force of the throws were too much and Germany finally collapsed from the pain. But that wasn't the end of the hell that he had walked into. No, he heard footsteps rush towards him, and forcibly turn him over.The look he saw on Norway's face would be the source of his nightmares for the next decade at least.Norway didn't waste any time. Germany wouldn't ever be able to recount what had happened exactly. He remembered getting snow forced into his shirt and pants, his hat getting torn off his head only to be forced back on with snow inside it, and his shoes getting ripped off his feet before being practically buried in snow.As he laid there, shivering from what might be a very early sign of hypothermia, he heard Norway say, "I have to admit, you lasted longer than I had expected. You have a miniscule drop of respect from me for that. I hope to see you again like this next year when I go snødynking again."Germany just stared at the sky, swearing to whatever god existed that he would never underestimate Norway ever again.That nation was crazier than anyone knew. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Norway watched from behind a pile of snow as Sweden rushed from a side doorway and hurriedly dragged Germany back into the conference building. Please, söta bror. I border you. It's ridiculously easy for me to go snødynk you at any point in the winter. I'm not going to stop you from dragging your brother back to 'safety'.He sighed, taking out his phone and seeing if Iceland had texted him to tell him if any other nations were coming outside. No luck. Italy probably warned them off going outside, and then Germany not coming back convinced them. Why does he have to be so fast?Norway sighed again, only perking up (or as perked up as he can get) when he saw the figure walking through the gates.Russia.He smirked, reaching into one of his bags and pulled out a snowball, taking careful aim before launching it at the tall nation.Russia managed to last longer than Germany had, which wasn't too surprising. The Russian winter was an amazing natural defense, after all. However, he couldn't hold on forever. Russia didn't have any real equivalent to the beauty of snødynking, after all.The moment he fell to the ground, Norway rushed forward, stuffing the Russian's coat and pants full of snow, forcing his shoes off and stuffing his winter cap full of snow. He didn't even have to really think about it; it was practically instinct for him by now.Once he was done, he stepped back and waited.Only a minute later, Russia's head shot up. He blinked, staring at him, before smiling. "Ah, Norway. So, you are going... what did you call it again?""Snødynking," Norway responded easily. "I thought you would know that by now.""I always forget how you pronounce that one letter of yours," he said brightly. "Who have you gotten so far?""Let us see..." he said, pulling out his phone. "I have snødynked that annoying Dane three times, Prussia twice, England, France, Spain, Estonia, Netherlands, attempted to do Italy, Germany, and now you.""Ah, only five nations to go before your record is broken," Russia said. "Do you need any help? I have the strange feeling that the meeting will never start now."Norway was about to decline, saying that he didn't need any help, before he remembered an incident that a drunk England had told Scotland, who in turn had told him. "Actually," he said, repressing the smirk that wanted to break out on his face, "if you would stand by the gates and tell me if anyone actually shows up, I would very much appreciate it.""Of course, comrade!" Russia beamed, somehow managing to get up and brushing the snow off his coat. "Ah, but can I have my shoes back?" Norway pointed to where they were sitting a few feet away. As the Russian put them on, he said, "Do not worry, I will tell you if someone comes."The Nordic nodded his thanks, letting the evil grin break out once he was completely sure Russia couldn't see him. Good. Now they'll be terrified even before they enter the grounds. This may be one of the best snødynks ever.
11388903	Inky Depths Below	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Henry (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Joey Drew, Boris (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Susie Campbell, Alice Angel (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Sammy Lawrence, Wally Franks", "Fandom": "Bendy and the Ink Machine", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Gears112", "chapters": "16/16", "completed": "2017-07-12", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "21,754", "Additional Tags": "there's some minor character death but not really, more like tranformations instead of dead, Posted and Finished Before Chapter Three, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Inky Depths AU", "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 }	Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 1: Angelic Reunion The cartoon angel hummed to herself as Boris and Henry rounded the corner. Henry knew he should've been at least slightly more surprised, but considering the past hour and a half, this was was the most normal thing he had seen all day. Boris entered the room first and knocked on the door jam, grabbing the attention of the angel. "O-Oh! Boris! You surprised me." She said sweetly. "W-What do you need?" The cartoon wolf opened his mouth before closing it, frowning for a few seconds before holding up his fingers. The angel frowned and cocked her head in confusion as even Henry looked at the wolf briefly before looking back at the hallway, making sure they weren't being followed. "Um...ok, one word?" The wolf nodded before mimicking writing something. "Writing? No, um drawing?" The wolf excitedly nodded before doing a slowed down dance. The angel blinked silently for a few seconds before sighing. "Just get to the point Boris," The wolf made an overdramatic sigh before grabbing Henry's arm and dragging the older animator into the room. "A guest? Well, we haven't had a guest in a-" She started to say before Boris spun Henry around to look directly at the angel, whose eyes widened in shock. "H-Henry?" Henry noticed that the slightly higher pitched voice seemed to crack as the angel tried to fight back tears. "Oh gods it's really you…" She rubbed her eyes before looking around panickingly. "What are you doing here?! If any of the members, or if Sammy or Joey-""I got an letter from Joey," Henry said. "And Sammy's...busy." He mumbled, feeling a chill as he remembered the former music director's screams of terror as the demonic mockery of Bendy killed him. The angel frowned momentarily before sighing sadly."You shouldn't be here...Joey's lost it…it's not safe here….""I noticed." The angel looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. "It's been a weird day.""Yeah...but at least on the positive side, I get to see you again. It has been a few years since you worked here…" She chuckled as Henry and Boris's faces fell as they stole looks at each other, earning the angel's confusion. "What's wrong boys?""It's been 30 years since I left the animation business…" The angel blinked slowly as that set in. She stepped back and leaned on a chair. "3-30 years…" Henry nodded somberly. "I-I-It's been 30 years…" She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. "W-We've been stuck down here….30 years…." Henry quickly got to her eye level as the angel started to hiccup and tear up."Alice…" He stopped and sighed. "Susie…" The angel looked up at him, her face stained with inky tears. "Susie, I don't know what the hell Joey did or is doing, but I'm going to at least try and fix it...and get everybody out…""R-Really?" Henry nodded as he pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. "Promise." She smiled weakly before she blew her nose, a car honk loudly blaring as Henry sighed at the inky mess that remained on his handkerchief as the angel sheepishly looked at him."Keep it Susie…""Thanks Henry…" She wiped her face before chuckling absently. "I haven't heard someone say my name in a long time…" She sighed. "Just off the tapes...Joey doesn't like that I'm not fully Alice Angel, you know how she was written and stuff, but I'm not fully how I was as Susie…" She looked at her white gloved hand. "At least I'm not a puddle…" She stopped as they heard footsteps. She gasped and quickly took Henry's hands, dragging to him to a spare room. "Here! Hide in here!" Before he could ask why, he was shoved in and the door slammed behind him. Susie coughed a few times before chuckling. "Oh Mr. Drew, what brings you to see little ol' me?""I heard you singing and talking." The familiar gruff of his old boss sent both chills and an annoyed feeling through Henry. "And I wanted to see who was here with you.""O-Oh...well...Boris here showed up...and you know, it's a little boring sitting and doing nothing all day…" Henry heard Joey chuckle before hearing a bemused chuckle; probably the boss inspecting Boris."He appears to be stable…." Henry stifled a chuckle as Boris made a confused yip and Joey sighing; Joey was always a habit of thinking people could read what he was thinking at the moment."Please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means…" Henry felt a chill as he heard Joey chuckle darkly."You know how well Sammy was as a music director. Seemed only fitting." There was dead silence before Henry heard Joey turn. "I have some business to attend to, unfortunately. Good to see that you are still doing well, Alice. Keep an eye on Boris for me, will you?" Joey left the room and after a few minutes, Henry carefully opened the door and saw Boris trembling, staring intensely at the floor. Susie looked at Henry, panic obvious in her eyes before she frowned and her cheeks puffed up."DAMNIT JOEY!" Was Henry's best guess at what Susie yelled, as her curse was replaced with a bike horn. She stomped her foot and cursed, the sound effects replacing the offensive words. Henry did his best to stifle his laughter, as Boris even looked up, a smile creeping on his face as he watched the old man try not to laugh and offend the cartoon angel, but failing miserably. Finally a few seconds later, Henry lost the battle and started laughing uncontrollably, stumbling to his rear, surprising the two toons. The two looked at each other before they started to chuckle as well; it wasn't everyday you saw a 60+ year old man on the floor laughing. After a few minutes, Henry managed to catch his breath."I-I'm sorry…" Henry managed out. "I s-shouldn't have laughed…" Susie rolled her eyes."Oh poo, it was kinda funny admittedly…" She said. "And at least I still know the words…" She sighed and smiled softly at Henry. "And I'm glad that at least you've still got your sense of humor." Henry felt a bit of his cheeks go warm as he smiled sheepishly as Boris rolled his eyes, as if to say 'In case you two forgot, Drew just dropped a massive bombshell about me and we still need to get out of this rotting piece of junk. Susie looked up at him and pouted. "Can you speak at all? I know for a fact that you had a voice actor." Susie tapped her chin, her foot tapping along in time. "Oh what was his name? It wasn't Sammy…." Henry paled as an old memory trickled back to the surface."No…" Henry said softly before he shot up and bolted from the room. "I got to find Wally!".. 1924 "Ok, Drew," The gruff Brooklyn accented man grunted as he, Henry, Sammy, and the newest hire, a woman by the name of Susie Campbell, were in one of the recording rooms, with their boss, Joey Drew, holding pieces of script. "Why in the Hell do you need all of us?" "With the new advancements," Joey said, a stickler for mild dramatics. "I believe that Bendy and Boris need voices in conjunction with our new leading lady." Susie covered her mouth, stifling an embarrassed giggle as Wally looked unimpressed. "So you couldn't be bothered to hire two mooks?" Joey glared at the man before Henry stepped in between the two. "Think of it as adding more to your skills." Henry said, hoping to avoid another confrontation. "If Bendy cartoons get popular-" "Which they will." Henry ignored his boss's statement. "You'll be know as "the voice" as Bendy or Boris…" Henry finished as Wally gave him a 'seriously' look, which Henry mouthed 'Work with me Wally'. The man sighed in annoyance. "Fine, fine, whatever." Wally said, before turning his attention to Joey. "And Wet Blanket is here because…?" "I'm the music director, Franks. It's my job to make you sound good, as challenging as it will be." The sandy blond grunted, adjusting his glasses and Henry bit back a sigh; he honestly felt more like a babysitter than an animator. He looked at Susie, who was admittedly caught off guard by the bickering from the janitor and music director and offered her a sympathetic smile. "Enough." Joey's stern and direct tone got everyone's attention. "I'd rather not keep anyone longer than needed, so let's get started. Wally, I would like you to read Boris's parts. Henry, you take Bendy's voice, and Ms. Campbell, you know what to do." "Yes sir!" "Whatever, Drew." "Alright Joey." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 2: Get Outta Here! "Holy Toledo!" Susie exclaimed as she and Boris rounded the corner, chasing after Henry. "He sure moves fast for an old guy!" The wolf nodded before they noticed the ink monsters beginning to form. A bicycle horn swear came from Alice, grabbing the monsters' attention, but allowing Henry to easily run past the Searchers, heading into one of the rooms. Boris gave her a look and she glared at him. "What?!" Henry made a strained sigh as he saw a body of a withered looking old man, stained with ink, huddling in the corner as he entered; he had given up the idea that his co-workers managed to escape the insanity when he saw what happened to Sammy. He shook his head, trying to dispel the memories of earlier. "W-Wally?" Henry said slowly, hoping to not startle the man, whoever he was, if he was still alive. The old man weakly looked up in response. "H-Henry?" Henry winced at how hoarse the voice was. "Wha...hell you doing 'ere?" Henry quickly came over, to aid his former co-worker. "Joey sent me a letter." Even despite the ink and discoloration, Henry was able to see the annoyed disbelief on the janitor's face as he helped the man to stand, using himself as support. "I had no idea he went this nuts. I was more expecting patronizing gloating over how well Bendy was doing in the cinemas and how I was a fool for leaving and trying to start my own studio before the Depression hit..." Wally made a horse laugh before coughing and spitting out ink. Henry raised an eyebrow. "Don't ask." "Wasn't planning on it…" The two old men looked up as they heard the sound of the ink monsters and the cursing of the former voice actor-turned angel. Henry mentally cursed, realizing that he had not any way to fight back, especially now that he was supporting Wally. "Damnit…I don't have an axe…" There was a loud foghorn sound and Henry couldn't help but snort at the face Wally made. "Who knew Susie had a mouth on her?" "That's Susie? B-but J-Joey…he-" Henry was about to explain before the angel and Boris, messily covered in ink caught up and were in the hallway. There was an awkward silence as Wally stared at the two toons, Henry adjusting his support for Wally. "U-Uh...Hiya Wally?" Alice managed out and a few awkward seconds later Wally finally spoke. "Once I punch J-Joey, I'm outta here and getting a stiff drink." Alice beamed and even Boris looked happy as Henry smiled, trying his best to ignore the numbing pain crawling up his legs. However, Wally must've sensed something as he turned to Henry. "Y-You ok?" "Fine." Wally made a hoarse groan of annoyance and looked at the two toons as Henry quickly added. "N-No, I'm fine! Really!" "One of yous help keep me up," Wally ordered. "And somebody grab Henry a chair." "Wally I'm fine-" Henry said, bit back a gasp as the pain flared up. Alice quickly hurried and found a chair, putting it behind Henry as Boris took Wally under the arm, taking the brunt of the support as Henry's legs collapsed and he slumped into the chair. "H-Henry! What's wrong!?" Alice exclaimed and Henry forced a smile, though it looked more like a grimace. "I-It's just an old flare up…" Henry said, pain obvious in his voice; out of all the times for this to happen, it had to be while he was trying to escape the studio with his life. Alice frowned and crossed her arms. "Henry, you're hurt." Henry mumbled a retort under his breath as Alice started to inspect him, gingerly putting pressure on his body, to test the tenderness and see if he was majorly hurt. Henry tried to not show his wincing as Alice got to the welt on his head from Sammy's blow, when she stopped. "W-What happened here?" "Sammy got me from behind…" The angel gasped as Wally grunted. "Didn't think that bastard was still here...not after the sixth time those pipes broke in his office…" Wally muttered. Boris and Henry shot each other a shaky look as if debating on telling the janitor what happened to the music director before Alice made a 'tch' sound. "Well, you're not going anywhere, not without some rest first." Henry was about to open his mouth, but decided to not ask as if he remembered correctly; both Susie and the character of Alice were a bit stubborn. He sighed and Alice smiled. "Now, you two boys relax, me and Boris will watch the place." "Don't need to tell me twice…" Wally mumbled as Boris helped him towards another chair. "Who would've thought I'd be drained by a two minute stand." He snorted before coughing and hacking, spitting out more ink. Boris made a disgusted whine, earning a glare from Wally. “I don’t n-need your sass.” Henry sighed as Alice helped him lean back, humming a melody he didn’t recognize. Henry felt his eyelids get heavy and as much as he wanted to fight it, he soon fell into a deep sleep. .. "Mr. Lawrence?" Sammy looked up from the blueprints that Joey had given him to check over and adjusted his glasses as Susie Campbell stood at the door, rubbing her hands nervously. "A-Are you busy?" "O-Oh no, no! Of course not, Ms. Campbell! Please, come in." Sammy said quickly, offering her a seat. "Is something wrong?" Susie looked at the ground, spiking Sammy's curiosity and concern. "You can tell me," "I think something is wrong with Mr. Drew." "What else is new?" Sammy snarked before he caught himself. He coughed nervously. "Ah, I mean...he is a slightly eccentric man…Considering he put that in my office." He gestured to the pump control and Susie made a quiet sigh. "It's not that...a-at first I thought it was just him reacting to Henry leaving…" Susie said slowly, rubbing her arm. Sammy nodded curtly, remembering the yelling match that happened before Henry had stormed out the beginnings of a bruise forming on his face as he left. "B-But he keeps mentioning about appeasing-" "Lawrence!" Sammy and Susie admittedly jumped as Wally knocked on the door. "I don't know what the hell Drew's on, but he wants to see you in his office." Sammy glared at Wally and let out an annoyed sigh. "He does know the music doesn't write itself, correct?" Wally shrugged. "Don't look at me, he's lost it, but hey, he's the one writing the checks." He looked at Susie and smiled at her. "Ms. Campbell." She offered a shaky smile before there was the sound of a pipe bursting. "Son of a-" He caught himself before rubbing his temples. "Why the hell does he need that noisy machine!? Ugh, I swear, if those pipes keep bursting-" "You're outta here." Sammy finished before standing, earning an annoyed look from the janitor. "I'm sorry Ms. Campbell, we'll have to finish our discussion later. But I wouldn't worry too much." Susie nodded, uncertain. "Mr. Drew is just being as he is, over dramatic and full of theatrics. He wouldn't do anything that would risk shutting the studio down." "That's one thing we can agree on! It's a miracle!" Wally laughed, earning the glare of the bespectacled man as Susie chuckled, feeling slightly comforted with the two, though there was still an uneasy feeling at the back of her mind. "Thank you, you two." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 3: Illusion of Living "Joey! What the hell are you doing?!" "Isn't it obvious?" Henry watched as his former friend chuckle, insanity clear in his eyes as he walked in front of Henry, his own body stained and dirty from ink while holding his book, 'The Illusion of Living', like an actor giving a performance on stage. "A show can't begin without it's main star." “What?!” Joey just smiled. “You’ll see in just a moment.” Henry felt the room shake as the inky monstrous mockery of Bendy rose from the floor, looking straight at him, the cartoon smile plastered on his face. Henry tried to step back, but found his feet frozen in the ritual circle he found himself in. Henry looked around in a panic, trying to find a way to escape as 'Bendy' tilted its head to the side, as if curiously studying him and planning the best way to rip him apart. Joey didn't seem to take notice of the ink monster as he took a brief look. "Now, let's the show on the road as they say," The monster lunged for Henry, it's dripping hand closing around his neck before Henry could even think of dodging. Inky claws dug into Henry’s neck, as the man tried to let out a scream, but a searing and heavy numbing pain all over his body began to overpower him. Henry tried to get free, but as he struggled to hold his breath, everything becoming limp and heavy, he heard Joey chuckle. "This is only the beginning, my friend!" . . Henry woke up with a start as he heard a surprised cry of panic. He quickly tensed and reached for his axe, before he remembered what happened earlier. He looked around the room, surveying his surroundings and saw Alice over by a inky huddled mess, with Wally nowhere to be seen. "W-What's going on?" He managed out and Alice looked back at him, panic obvious. "Something's going with Boris!" Alice seemed to have sense his concern as she shook her head. "I don't know where Wally went! I went to go look in the hallway and when I turned back around he was gone! A-And Boris was like this!" She quickly rubbed at her eyes, as Henry slowly got up, thankful that the pain was gone and went to Alice. "Alright, ok, we'll find Wally after we help Boris out…" Alice looked at him. "Wally's stubborn enough to take care of himself." Alice snorted softly before turning her attention to Boris, the mass of what appeared to be black and white ink making low whimpers. "Boris?" There was a pathetic whimper. "Boris, it's ok...it's just me, Henry, and Susie here…" The inky mess that was the former wolf turned slowly and Henry and Alice stepped back as the 'wolf' reached out to them, the maw of the creature slowly pulling apart to make any noise. Alice let out a squeal and hid behind Henry, who was looking for something within grabbing distance to protect himself and Alice before the mess started to make a sound and seemed to tremble, though he didn’t seem in any pain. "Henry, w-what's happened to him?" Alice whimpered as Henry recognized the noise the inky wolf was making as the wolf leaned back. "H-He's laughing?" Henry said slowly as the sounds became more recognizable as laughter as the dripping eased and Boris started to turn more into how he was looking before, minus the missing cavity in his chest when Henry had first found him strapped on the first floor. "He's laughing…" He looked at Alice slowly. "I'm not dead am I?" "If you are, I'd ask for a refund from the Big Guy for this being your limbo." Alice pointed up to the ceiling, sending the wolf into another howling fit of laughter. Alice looked at Boris before looking up at Henry. "It wasn't that funny." "Not really…" Henry sighed. "Well, since Boris is ok, I guess, we should look on finding Wally…" Alice nodded. "You two are a hoot!" Boris managed out, wiping his eyes. "Ah, Bendy would've love seeing your face, Al!" He looked at Henry and frowned. "Uh...who are you buddy?" "He's Henry." Alice said, as if it was obvious. Boris tilted his head in confusion. "He created the shorts…" "For a bit." Henry mumbled, earning a mildly annoyed glance from Alice before she turned her attention back to Boris. "Anywho, he's one of the ones who made the Bendy shorts in the first place." Boris still looked confused and Alice sighed. "Bendy doesn't wear shorts though." A small bicycle bell noise came from Alice, surprising the wolf as Henry rubbed his temples, a headache aching at the back of his mind. "Susie, we can worry about this later," Henry said quickly, hoping to avoid a confrontation. "We should figure out where Wally went." Boris furrowed his brows. "What? Hold on, what are you two talking about?!" He demanded. "And Al, what's with you, you're an angel! You aren't supposed to curse; you’re a goody-two shoes!" He turned to Henry. "And why did you call her Susie?" Henry sighed before sitting in the closest chair and let out a tired sigh; they didn’t have the time for this, but Henry had a feeling that Boris would be suspicious of him if he didn’t at least partially explain what was going. And if that ‘Bendy’ could convince Boris that he was a threat, well, Henry didn’t want to think about it, instead shaking his head and looking at Boris. "I'll try my best to explain what's going on, but even I've got no idea really…" Henry began to explain how he and Joey first came up with the cartoon devil, creating the studio and working together, quickly skimming over the fact that he had left under not-so-great terms with Joey. Luckily Alice stepped in and explained the bits of pieces she remembered, with the Ink Machine and people disappearing with the ink creatures showing up, when Henry continued with getting the letter from Joey and his 'adventure' for the past few hours. Boris's reactions ranged from disbelief to horror and a bit of sadness, but Henry wasn't sure; he wasn't that great at reading people. "...And that leads up to now…" Henry finished awkwardly. "With us about to look for Wally, the janitor…" "Huh…" Was all the wolf said slowly, and Alice gently patted Boris's back. "It's going to be ok; Henry's gonna help us out…" She said and Henry let out a breath he didn't realize that he was holding; this was much more than he was expecting returning to the studio. "We should...get moving." Henry said, getting their attention. "We need to find Wally and get a way out of here." Alice nodded and helped Boris up, before helping Henry up. He let out a tired grunt. "I'm fine!" He said as he spotted the eyebrow raise from the angel. "I'm just old, Susie...honest," "Uh huh." Henry saw Boris cover his mouth, holding back a snicker and mentally rolled his eyes; wondering how both how he got into this mess and how these turn of events would play out. As they left the room to look for Wally, Henry's thoughts went back to his nightmare earlier; he still had no idea if Joey was actually alive down here, or what he was planning with the 'Ink Machine', but one thing Henry was sure of, he wasn't going to like it, nor was he going to let Joey get away with it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 4: Where's Wally? "So what all happened outside the studio?" Angel asked as they walked around the studio, hoping to have a conversation to break the numbing quiet, with Henry having found another axe to use as a weapon, though why an animation studio needed this many axes was beyond him. Henry shrugged, uninterested. "A bunch of things admittedly;" Alice rolled her eyes. "Any specifics?" She asked, before a smirk appeared on her face. "Like maybe you met a special someone~?" Henry blinked in confusion and Alice groaned. "Did you tie the knot?" Henry shrugged. "No, not really." Alice raised an eyebrow, not buying it in the slightest. "Was kind of busy." "With what?" "Stuff." Henry said, not wanting to go into details. "Like what?" Boris asked. Henry let out an annoyed sigh. "Stuff. Stuff." Alice and Boris looked at each other, unsure if they should press the matter as they snuck into another office. Henry looked under the desk and cursed. "Shit, he's not here either…" "He shouldn't have gone that far, right?" Boris asked. Alice nodded as they heard more boards collapse. Henry let out a groan. "Damnit...we're running out of time…" He rubbed his temple, steadying himself against the desk before looking at the two toons. "What the hell is Joey trying to do?" Alice shrugged as Boris froze up as if he received a shock. Alice and Henry looked at each other before looking at the wolf. "Boris?" "Joey…" Was the only thing the wolf said, as if he was trying to remember something before his ears perked up and he growled as he seemed to realize what he was thinking. "JOEY DREW!" He raced out of the room quickly, howling Joey's name, his intention to harm the man pretty balant. Alice looked at Henry, who was looking at where the wolf went. "T-That sounded like W-Wal-" Henry frowned before picking up Alice. "Whoa!" "We can't lose him! Come on!" The man exclaimed before chasing after the wolf, the angel clinging to his shirt. . . "Mr. Franks?" Wally jumped as he quickly pocketed the paper he was reading. "A-Ah! Mr. Drew, wadda need?" Wally asked as he turned to face his boss, who was looking more gaunt and tired than usual. "I'll need your...assistance with something." Wally nodded slowly, trying to guess what it would be. "Follow me." "Y-Yes sir." Wally followed the animator down the halls. "What were you reading?" Joey asked after a bit. "Uh, it was nothing really boss…" "A letter from Henry?" Wally stopped, shocked that his boss knew. "How-" Joey casually looked behind him, a smirk on his face. "I have my ways." Joey continued to walk. "You're not getting fired Wally, so come along." Wally reluctantly followed, though grateful he wasn't being fired for speaking with the ‘traitor’, as Joey often mumbled. "So how is he?" "Fine...I suppose, he mentioned he was heading to Hawaii." Joey raised an eyebrow. "The doctor apparently said that the 'studio closing' and the related stress wasn't helping his health, and that 'fresh air' would help him recover." Wally noticed a corner of his boss's smile twitched and the janitor wondered how much his boss was enjoying the idea of his former friend failing at making his own studio. "So, ah, what do you need me to do?" Joey stopped in front of a room and opened the door. "Step in here." Wally walked into the room, beyond confused. Instead of animation sheets, or storyboards, the walls were covered in ritualistic markings and pentagrams and magic signs. "Uh...Drew, what's the mea-" Wally never finished what he was going to say as he turned he saw a black humanoid shape swing a wood board at his face, knocking him to the floor. As his vision blurred and faded to black, he heard his boss chuckle. "Excellent work, my prophet, he'll be perfect for the ritual. Get him tied up while I add the finishing touches to the circle." “Yes My Lord.” . . Henry and Alice barely managed to catch up to the wolf, as the wolf was tearing through one of the rooms, frantically trying to find Joey, growling being the only noise coming from him. Henry panted, definitely feeling the effects of thinking he was in his younger years, as he set down Alice and leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Alice looked at him in concern as Boris let out a groan. "He's not here!" Boris growled before noticing Henry. "Where is he?!" "Who?" Henry managed out before he felt himself slammed into the wall. "Boris!" Alice exclaimed. "Joey! Where the hell is he?!" Boris snarled and Henry grunted. "Your guess is as good as mine." Boris leaned in and Henry had to hold his breath the stench of ink and questionable quality of Bacon Soup not making a good combination of smells. "I'm not in a laughing mood, bub. Now tell me, where the hell is Drew?" Henry was thankful he was still holding his breath as the wolf's reaction to his own sound effect replacing his curse was much more comical than the situation was. "What the heck was that?! What the fuck came out of my mouth?!" Henry was trembling, wanting to laugh, but also didn't want to die, as Boris looked offended as a bike horn replaced the curse. "Boris! Knock it off!" Alice demanded, trying to loosen his grip on Henry by pulling on his tail. "Leave Henry alone! He knows even less than us!" The wolf blinked slowly as Henry felt the grip loosen slightly. "H-Henry?" The man in question raised an eyebrow; was it just him or did the wolf sound like Sammy just now? Boris let Henry go and staggered back, as if terrified and realizing what he was doing. Alice placed her hands on her hips as Henry leaned against the wall, catching his breath. "Now what?!" She snapped before Boris quickly bolted out of the room. "Whoa! Hey! Bor-Drat…" She looked at Henry. "Boris didn't hurt you too much, did he?" Henry shook his head quickly. "I'm fine; believe it or not, I've dealt with worse…" Henry chuckled as he tried to stand up away from the wall, but a searing pain shot that idea down and he stayed against the wall, sliding down to the ground as his legs gave out. Alice's face fell and Henry waved it off. "I-I'm fine...we need to find Wally…" "Henry what's wrong?" Henry looked at the concern look of the angel for a moment he could’ve sworn he saw the voice actress that voiced the angel instead of the toon angel. He sighed and looked at the ground, cursing the hallucination and the pain in his legs keeping him from getting up. "Henry, you can tell me...please, let me at least try and help you…" Henry chuckled slightly and looked up. "Susie, you're stubborn, you know that?" Alice smiled. "Well, it's a talent, Henry, why else would Joey hire me?" She struck a model's pose. "I wasn't much of looker after all." Henry snorted, not believing that for one second. "Don't short yourself, Susie." "Trust me, Henry, I wouldn't, I can barely reach the shelves with the Bacon Soup cans on it." She gestured to herself as if to emphasize the point, to which Henry lost it; laughing till he had to stop to cough for a bit and catch his breath. Alice rolled her eyes playfully. "Better?" "Mildly." He admitted before sighing. "Alright….I'll tell you, but I'd rather not this get out around…" He trailed off, realizing what he said. He wiped his face and groaned. "Nevermind…" Alice held back a smile behind her hand, which thanks to the hole in her hand, Henry could see. He turned slightly pink in embarrassment. "I won't tell anyone Henry…" Henry smiled before sighing. "Thanks Susie...let me start from the beginning…" . . A sickening crunch and the pained cry of the young boy filled the air as the vehicle's tire swerved and squealed. "Boys!" "Henry! Joey!" "Someone get the doctor! One of the boys are hurt!" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 5: Arguing with Oneself Boris stumbled into one of the rooms, freaking out internally as he focused on his large rounded fingers. "This can't be real…." He said to himself, his voice exactly like the former Music Director’s. "I-I was dead…that thing killed me...didn't it?" He tried to take off the glove to no avail and looked at himself in a reflective pool of ink. "And definitely not a wolf…" He sighed and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and calm down; he was definitely punching Drew for this. Speaking of the owner, where the hell was he in this hellhole? Boris looked around and huffed; he must've found his way back to what Wally called his office, a mess of papers and dripping ink, along with a haphazardly stacked pile of Bacon Soup cans. "Well, nothing's changed despite the insanity. He's a freaking pig...what did Joey see in that moron?" His ears perked as he heard an annoyed cough, a strange unfamiliar feeling. The cartoon wolf turned around and saw no one as there was an annoyed groan. "Over here Wet Blanket." Boris looked around, not thrilled with the idea of seeing Wally again, but again couldn't see the janitor. A trolley bell came out of Boris's mouth. "I'm losing it…." There was a loud groan from Wally. "Oh can it, you pig." "Here, I'll wave to help your blind ass see where I am." Boris noted that Wally had to have a similar issues with sound effects replacing his curses as Boris's felt his left hand began to wave on it’s own. "What in the blazes!?" "What? I'm waving to you." "My hand is moving on my own!" "No, I'm waving at you, Sammy." Boris grumbled in annoyance; Wally wasn't helping in the slightest. "Ok, smart guy, you wave at me." Boris moved his other hand and heard Wally make a confused 'huh' sound. "That was my other hand moving…" Boris would've paled if he could as he put what happened together. "This can't be possible…" "What?!" "We're stuck together….in this…" He gestured to himself. "We're stuck as Boris…" Wally was silent for a few moments before he finally spoke. "Damnit Joey…what the hell were you doing?” . . "Wow…" Alice said slowly as Henry finished, a quiet falling over the two. He nodded tiredly, drained, but the pain in his legs was slowly numbing and not bothering him that much. "I mean...you hid that very well…the limp…I don't remember ever seeing you having trouble-course that doesn’t really mean much-and you ran pretty fast today!" Henry shrugged. "I usually power through it...though when it bites, it bites back hard…" He admitted before sighing. "That probably was one of the big things that cause me and Joey to fight so much…" Alice raised an eyebrow and Henry sighed, realizing he couldn't beat around the bush any longer. "Joey and me were best friends, since we were kids," "But what does that have to do with that accid…." Alice trailed off as she put it together. "O-Oh…" "He'd claim I was overworking and risking getting hurt, and I felt like he was smothering me and trying to make up for it, or something…and it go on..." Henry sighed. "He must've felt awfully guilty about it…" She said softly before frowning. "But that definitely doesn't excuse or explain all of this…" Henry shrugged. "No offense to the man that signed our paychecks, but he's a few bricks short of a load." Alice snorted before there was a loud yip sound and the sound of canned soup being spilt. The two looked at each other. Henry slowly got himself up, Alice helping him as support. "I'm going to hope that's Boris or Wally, and not anything else…" "Same here." The two carefully snuck towards the sound, before hearing what sounded like Wally and Sammy arguing with each other. "I can't believe that you tripped!" "Tripped?! You tripped me you klutz!" "No I didn't! That was all you! You’ve got two left feet!" Alice looked at Henry. "Well, sounds like nothing's changed between those two?" Alice tried to joke, but Henry was more concerned and confused; that definitely sounded like Sammy, but not the "prophet" that had tried to sacrifice him earlier He reluctantly followed Alice who found the room Boris was in, though he seemed to be arguing himself, surrounded by cans of Bacon Soup. Alice blinked slowly. "Uh...ok?" Boris looked up at her in surprise. "Susie!" Was what he was trying to say, but sounded more like a mash of Susie and Alice. Boris frowned. "That's Susie you numnut! Nonsense, that looks exactly like Alice Angel! Well, gee you car honk who voiced the whistle, airhorn angel, huh?" Henry poked his head into the room, hearing the sounds. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alice. "I don't think I want to know…" He mumbled and Boris perked up, looking at him. "Henry!" Boris exclaimed before gesturing to himself. "Tell this moron that she's Susie/Alice!" Henry blinked slowly and looked at Alice for help. The angel looked at him, annoyance clear on her toon face. "I think I preferred it when he didn't talk." . . The echoing dripping noises followed Bendy through the hall, reminding him with each steps that he still wasn't ready for the show, as Mr. Drew put it. "I just need to get one more thing finished." The older man had promised. "After all, it takes special steps to make sure you're ready." Bendy wanted to be ready now, earning the man's chuckling when he had tried to ask, though it was moderately difficult when he couldn't seem to find his voice, but Mr. Drew was understanding. The older man placed a pale, ink covered hand and patted the top of Bendy's head, making the dancing demon make a sound that almost sounded like a pur. "I've made the steps to get you ready for the new show, in fact, it'll be here sooner than you think." Mr. Drew winked and made that expression that Bendy had no idea how to copy; it looked like a smile, but it seemed to be mischievous and seemed to say "I know something that you don't know yet", but Mr. Drew always seemed to know how to make Bendy feel better. "Why do go see if Alice will sing for you?" Bendy cocked his head in confusion, earning some chuckling. "I heard her talking a little bit ago." Bendy seemed to bounce with excitement; he had seen the angel hiding in one of the rooms, only coming out every once in a while to take a tape record and listen to it, never really speaking much. The idea that one of his friends was back to normal, filled Bendy with hope and giddiness. The inky mess of a demon hugged the old man, earning chuckling before the demon quickly 'ran' off, leaving trails of ink behind, unaware that the old man was smirking, knowing that the 'show' would begin again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 6: Ghosts of the Past "What is the matter Bendy?" The inky demon held up the picture frame for his creator to see, having found it while snooping around one of the offices. Joey pursed his lips slightly as he took the picture and looked at it; it was an old photo of him and Henry, right when they first opened the studio. Bendy pointed to the younger Joey and then at the old man, who chuckled at the curious look the toon was giving him. "Yes, Bendy, that is me, when I was younger." The demon's mouth dropped as if he couldn't grasp the idea of aging, earning more chuckling from the man, before the man’s face dropped slightly as Bendy pointed to the other man in the picture and made a confused chirp like sound. Joey sighed trying to keep his tone neutral. "That's….Henry. He was a friend of mine." Bendy looked at Joey before frowning and performing a dramatic death, as if asking if Henry had died, complete with a white lily, though Joey didn’t have a reaction to that. "No, no, he's not dead. He left the studio…" Joey furrowed his brows, the anger and frustration coming through in his voice. "He fell to temptation and betrayed us…just a rotten traitor..." Bendy made a whimpering sound and Joey quickly patted the demon's head. "But do not worry your head, Bendy; it is in the past, and one day perhaps he will see the error of his ways." Bendy noticed the almost sorrowful and bittersweet tone in Joey's voice and decided that he was going to help fix this and help this Henry guy see the error of his ways and go back to being friends with Joey! Bendy beamed and seemed to be bouncing in place excitedly, earning the older man's curious eyebrow raise. "What are you thinking Bendy?" Bendy made his signature pose of "Not Telling", a finger in front of his cheeky grin, though it was dripping a lot of ink. "Alright then, I suppose I'll see what you're planning when you're done…" Bendy nodded and added a twirl as he turned to explore the halls again as Joey chuckled softly, being reminded of a small child the way Bendy acted. . ."This is going nowhere…" The wolf mumbled, Wally’s voice the loudest of the two."Nonsense! I'm sure this will work!" Henry stifled a chuckle as Alice was helping Boris up, who was having issues staying upright and balanced; obviously the two that were now one cartoon wolf, or something-Henry was still on the fact Sammy wasn't as crazy as earlier-were not working together. "Now you two will follow Henry's orders on which foot to use!""What?!" The men asked in surprise. The angel beamed happily."You heard me, now let's try it~" Boris looked at Henry, as if he wanted him to tell Alice to stop being ridiculous, but Henry shrugged."Why not? It's not like we're pressed for time or anything." Boris frowned at the man's sarcasm before sighing, knowing he wasn't going to win, though the sarcasm went over the angel’s head."Fine…" Boris groaned after a few minutes of practice, and stumbling, Boris seemed to gain his footwork. Alice beamed in a 'I told you so' smirk as Henry chuckled, his mind being taken to one of the children he used to watch back when he lived before the war broke out; he wasn't sure what he was expecting when followed his doctor's orders and moved to Hawaii, but it wasn't as bad as he expected. He made friends, and while any dreams involving animating or creating more cartoons were dashed, he was know around the town as someone the kids loved to hang out with and learn to draw from after work or school. Henry let a shaky sigh, earning the concerned looks of Alice and Boris, before Henry held his shoulders and started to tremble, the bittersweet memories giving way to more darker, less sweet, memories. The sirens and panicked screams, the utter chaos that morning, trying to help friends find out what happened to their loved ones, the planes rushing overhead, the terror of wondering if they would drop bombs on them, to trying to help the wounded at the packed hospital, with even more men being carried in. Henry couldn’t hear Alice’s voice crying out in concern; only the pleas and begging of men struggling to cling onto that last bit of life, the cries of family members when he had to be the one deliver the news that the blue star in the window had to be changed to gold."Henry?" Alice asked slowly, stepping closer to the man. "Henry! What's wrong!?" Henry didn't respond, clutching his arms and trembling and Alice looked at Boris in a panic. "What's going on with him?!" Boris was quiet before slowly walking over to Henry."Henry, I'm right here," Alice recognized Wally's voice gently talking to Henry as the wolf took Henry's shoulders. Henry seemed to jump, but the wolf had a steady grip on his shoulders. "I'm right here...focus on me, ok? Focus on what's right in front of you, right now, in the moment…." This continued for what seemed like ages for the angel before Henry seemed to slowly snap out of it. "You alright now?" Henry nodded slowly, taking a shaky deep breath."Y-Yeah...thanks Wally…" He managed out."Wally...Henry...w-what happened?" Henry looked away from Alice, not wanting to talk about it, as Boris sighed."War strain." Wally’s voice came from the wolf in a very straight forward tone. "I've seen this kinda thing before; I'd rather not explain it right now, cause we need to…." Wally trailed off as he looked behind Alice. “W-What the...” The angel turned and gasped; in front of her was the mangled inky mess of Bendy the Dancing Demon. The demon had cocked his head, curious about the three. Henry paled as Boris held onto him; he really didn't have the energy to run for his life away from that thing. Bendy pointed to Henry and Alice didn’t waste a beat."Oh, that's a friend we found~" She said in Alice's traditionally soft, almost squeaky, sounding voice, obviously trying to be enough like Alice from the shorts long enough to convince the large inky monster to leave. "He just got a little turned around, so me and Boris are going to help him get back home." Bendy nodded slowly before pointing at Henry again. "Uh...you want to know his name?" She looked at Henry, as if asking him for help."Uh...I'm...Henry Ozell." Bendy nodded slowly; the three wondering what the demon was thinking as he was studying the older man. Henry had a brief thought wondering if Bendy could or even would recognize him, but luckily, Bendy didn't seem to recognize him as he looked at Alice and seemed to make a few hands signals that Henry didn't get, but apparently Alice understood perfectly as she frowned and placed her hands on her hips."Bendy! He is not that old!" Boris looked at Henry, confusion obvious on both."How in blazes does she understand him?" Boris whispered, Henry noting that it sounded more like Sammy than Wally at the moment."Why do you think I'd know?!" Henry whispered back. "I've been gone for 30 damn years! And the last time I was here, Joey wasn't this fucking insane!" There was an annoyed cough from the angel as Henry and Boris looked at the angel's unimpressed look as Bendy's face was priceless; apparently the demon had never heard curse words."Couldn't that have waited boys?" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 7: The Ritual Begins Bendy was confused, but he was excited at seeing this new person. He looked similar enough to Joey, but had something above his lips that was a dark grey/black color, that he had seen some other people in pictures have, and he had glasses on, though there was some ink smudge and nearly falling off his face. He was a bit confused on the man's name, as it was the same name as the friend of Joey that had lost his marbles, but this couldn't be the same person; this man in front of him was old, not like in the photo and this man definitely didn't have the same hopeful look the man in the picture had as he was holding on the younger Joey's shoulder. "Henry, seriously?" Bendy looked at Alice, who was scolding the old man for his whispering a few moments ago. Alice was usually a spoilsport like that, Bendy mused to himself; she never liked people whispering behind her. "Sorry…" He mumbled, though he was still being held up with Boris's help. Bendy frowned slightly, wondering why the old man looked so tired and like he was going to pass out. The demon looked at Alice, wanting to ask what's wrong with the man, but couldn't. Alice sighed, as if being able to understand Bendy's look. "It's been a long day, Bendy...The place is awfully big…and there’s a lot of stairs..." Bendy nodded slowly before he lit up, as an idea hit him; Joey was sure to be able to help this old man out of the studio! Alice raised an eyebrow, confused by the demon's seemingly sudden giddy movement before the inky blot hurried over to Henry, and before Boris or Henry could properly react, Bendy took one of Henry's hands in his own, as if to led the man to Joey. Suddenly there was a searing burning pain that jolted up his hand and Bendy yelped, yanking his hands back as Henry stumbled to his knees, clutching his hand, clearly in pain. "Henry!" Boris exclaimed as he tried to help Henry to the ground. Alice rushed over to the two, looking at Bendy, who was making a whimpering sound, rubbing his hands gingerly. He looked up at Alice for help and Alice gently got down to Bendy's level and gingerly took his hands and looked at them; they were the same as in the cartoons, only with black melted effects peeping through what Alice only assumed were holes in the gloves. She gingerly rubbed her fingers across his hands, humming softly. Bendy's whimpering died down as he leaned closer to Alice. "W-What the hell?!" Alice stopped humming and looked up at Henry and Boris, who were staring at his hand, which wasn't as ink covered as expected, but had a dimly glowing pentagram embedded in his hand. Alice paled slightly as Henry looked up at the other two toons, horror clear on his face. . . "Go ahead Ms. Campbell, and remember, don't stop singing." Susie nodded, a sense of dread filling her stomach, she had no idea why her boss wanted her to sing one of Alice's songs, after all, it was already on a record, but he had insisted he need her to do it live. She took a deep breath and made a silent prayer before she began to sing. "Far and Wide, I've been looking for it, A Place to Call my new home, Where it's pure and light and so sweet, That even Heaven can't have it beat But I was not prepared for where it could be, For it seems my Home is on the Lighter Side of Hell~ It's not pure black, yet not pure white, But for what it's worth, I shall not go back And I'll stay here on the Lighter Side of Hell~" As she sang, she felt a strange wet feeling climbing up her legs. She kept singing, as Joey asked, but she took a small look down at her feet, curiosity getting the better of her, before her eyes widening as she saw black inky substance starting to rise up on her. Her heart began to race as her singing started to falter as she realized she was standing in the middle of a glowing pentagram. "Keep singing Ms. Campbell." She barely heard Joey's stern voice reminding her as the substance rose up higher on her. She let out a blood curdling scream as the ink suddenly rose higher and quickly smothered her and the last thing she heard, was Joey's voice making a bemused 'huh' sound before there was nothing but blackness. . . Bendy pouted as his friends were focused on this Henry's hand; he had gotten hurt too, and so what if he didn't have a glowly mark on his own hand, but he was the star of the show as Joey put it, not this Henry guy! Bendy huffed. "I don't see what the big ol' deal is about some glowly mark. I'm the star after all!" Boris, Alice, and Henry's heads snapped to look at Bendy, shock and surprise clear on their faces. "He spoke!? What the bell whistle?!" Boris exclaimed. "He wasn't speakin' earlier! And what the fog horn is this klaxton Satanic thing you put on Henry?!" Bendy was both confused and moderately offended. "Why assume that was me?" "You're the only fog horn demon in the room." "Besides that I mean!" Alice sighed. "We have bigger issues than you two bickering." She said sternly, her voice slipping back into Susie's natural voice. "Henry's hurt, and now with this," She gestured to the mark on Henry's hand. "We don't have time to fight. We need to get out of here..." Bendy looked confused as Henry nodded tiredly. “Get out of here, Miss Al-” "Susie's right…" Henry said as he continued to catch his breath. "We need to figure out what the hell Joey is doing…" "And you know," Boris said, Sammy's voice recognizable as the wolf gestured to himself. "Fix this, cause as much as I tolerated my position as Music Director here, and put up with that blasted Ink Pump, I am drawing the line at being stuck like this with Wally." "Oh can it Wet Blanket, you think I'm enjoying this?! I'd rather be back in Europe than dealing with your whiny bike bell!" Bendy's face was priceless as Alice stifled her giggling at the demon’s face while Henry sighed as Boris argued with himself. "It's a miracle we even got the studio running with you two constantly bickering…" He mumbled and Bendy froze, remembering the photo and what Joey had told him. "Wait…" The demon asked slowly, looking at Henry. "Y-You're Henry in the picture with Mr. Joey?" Henry's face faltered slightly, wondering what was going to happen next. "You left the studio...you left Joey…" Alice looked at Bendy, concern obvious on her face as Bendy started to drip and take a slightly more monstrous form than what he was already was. "B-Bendy…?" Alice started to say as Bendy started to tremble, various emotions and a mix of conficting feelings rising to the surface. Henry slowly managed to stand, not wanting to take chances and not gain a headstart if he needed to run as it was clearly obvious that something was wrong with Bendy. Even Boris stopped arguing with himself and looked at the smaller demon. "Bendy?" "Y-You betrayed us Henry..…Y-You left us…You left Joey..." Bendy looked at Henry, anger burning in his eyes as he lunged for the older man. "You TRAITOR!" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 8: Quid Pro Quo "And then?" Henry chuckled as the children crowded around him, excited about the man's story. “What happened after he ran at you two?!” "Well, and then of course we had to hoof it! Neither of us wanted to see if the rumors about the old man scalping boys he caught and wearing them on his belt were true! But luckily the two of us knew a shortcut through the woods. It was the same woods that Fisheye Jones and his gang had hid out when on the run from the federal agents," The kids gasped as Henry continued the story about one of his and Joey's exploits when they were kids, of course embellishing a few details to keep the kids entertained while the air raid sirens raged on outside. Once he finished his story, the kids excitedly whispered to each other and their parents about the story as Henry's thoughts wandered; He wondered how his old friend was doing, especially with the war going on. Probably having a blast doing propaganda shorts with Bendy or something along those lines. Henry sighed slightly; he wouldn't want to admit it, but he did miss his friend and missed working at the studio, even if it felt like Joey was being more like a mother hen than a friend, constantly distracting him from the animations and deadlines, concerned about him 'pushing himself too hard'. Henry unconsciously stuck his tongue out as he thought, an old habit since he was a kid, about that; how was he supposed to get back to normal if he didn't push himself? After all, that’s how he got better when he was sick, and after the accident. He shook his head as everyone heard the 'all clear' siren; maybe after the war, maybe he could send a letter to Joey and see if his old friend would be willing to meet again. As he followed the rest of the others, he gingerly touched his cheek, a bit of doubt in his mind; even if he did send a letter, would Joey even be willing to reconcile? Or was 20-some odd years too late? . . Henry wasn't sure another time he had ran any faster than right this moment. Luckily, Boris had tackled the lunging demon, giving Henry a chance to run for his life. He had no idea where he was going, but as long as it wasn't in the same room as the very angry demon-toon, he was totally chill with it. "Why the hell is this place so fucking big!?" Henry yelled as he rounded a corner. He ran into an office and slammed the door behind him, hoping to give himself a moment to catch his breath. “Damn….I’m going to pay for that...later…” He looked around the room and realized he was in the old storyboarding room. He felt his heart drop a bit as he walked to the two desks he and Joey used in the early years of the studio, pitching and drawing whatever ideas they had, even the ideas were going to be scrapped later. He picked up the papers, which had a doodle of Bendy sprawled out, sleeping atop sheep, while Boris didn't look impressed on one, while a crumpled aged paper that Henry realized was one of the letters he had sent Joey during the time his friend had been drafted in the Great War. He could barely recognize his younger self's scribbling, but he definitely recognized the first look of Bendy as the demon was winking, telling Joey to 'Give 'Em Hell!'. “H-He actually kept my letters….d-damn…” Henry felt his eyes water and he quickly rubbed his eyes, starting to be overcome with emotion as he looked at the old memories, unaware that someone was behind him, with a wooden board. Board made contact with the old man's head, and said old man blacked out, only a groan escaping his lips, as the wielder of the board tossed his weapon aside and began to drag the old man, mumbling about 'appeasing the savior'. . . "Joey, you're acting worse than the doctors…" The younger man grumbled as his friend was visiting him in the hospital, though the man in the hospital bed thought it was borderline smothering him with being concerned about his health. His friend chuckled weakly. "Sorry Henry...I just want to make sure you're ok…" Henry frowned slightly. "Joey, what's wrong? You look like you haven’t slept at all..." His friend sighed softly before handing his friend an envelope. "I got drafted…" Henry looked at his friend and then at the letter, as if he couldn't believe it. "I leave in less than a week…." "Aw man," Henry said after a moment before looking at his friend. "I guess that'll mean that we'll have to wait on making shorts...but wait a minute! You'll be able to get some cool stories or some inspiration!" Joey blinked, hadn't thought about that before. "I guess…" Joey said as Henry thought, his tongue out playfully. "And maybe you could also see what other people are doing over in Europe too," Henry said before chuckling nervously. "As tasteless as it sounds, you're lucky to get drafted Joey. I'll be stuck here for at least another month if not more…" Joey's face fell, guilt clearly on his face. "Henry, I'm so sorr-" Henry held up his hand, stopping his friend's apologizing. "Joey, knock it off with the apologies; it's not your fault." "You almost got killed because of me!" "I would've done it regardless." Henry said sternly, looking out the window. "Besides, it's not your fault, it's that old man who was driving like a devil was after him. Which is funny, cause the both of us weren't anywhere near him." Joey smiled slightly, remembering the nickname 'affectionately' given to the two of them by one of their older neighbors. Henry snorted, earning some confusion from his friend. "You know what we should do? A series of shorts starring a demon! A little dancing demon, just like us!" Henry laughed as if this was the funniest idea he had ever heard of as Joey smiled, moderately confused by his friend and part of him wondering if it was the medication talking. Another part of him, however, remembering reading in the papers about spiritual groups being caught trying to summon demons among other things, wondered if maybe there was another way he could make up for he had done. . . "LET ME GO BORIS!" Bendy snarled as Boris had him pinned down. Bendy may have had a monstrous form, but Boris was still slightly taller than the demon; thus making it easier to pin the demon down. "Yeah, no," Boris said. "Frankly I'm not going to the Big House like this on assisted manslaughter." Alice rolled her eyes at Wally's bluntness. "He's a traitor though! He left us!" Bendy argued though, still struggling. Boris looked at Alice in confusion. "He left to create his own studio." Boris said. "And frankly, considering that fight between him and Joey before he left; it was probably for the best...You remember that, don't ya Susie? I swear had Henry didn't leave, Joey might've killed him right then and there. Or locked him in the supply closet for entirety..." Alice shrugged. "Not really…most of it’s a blur..." It was Bendy's turn to be confused and concerned. "A fight?" Bendy asked in disbelief; he knew Joey and he knew for a fact that Joey wasn't the type of guy to fight with anyone, let alone try and kill anyone! Boris sighed and reluctantly helped Bendy to a sitting position. "What are you talkin' about Boris buddy? Joey wouldn't hurt a fly!" Boris made a soft chuckle, though Bendy noted that it sounded forced and bitter. "Yeah, you and me know two different sides of Joey…" Bendy was about to ask what Boris meant by that before the demon crumpled to the ground, out cold. "Whoa! Hey! Bendy! What the whistle happened?!" Boris shook Bendy’s shoulders, who only made a small groan. He looked at Alice. "He's out cold!" "How?!" Alice exclaimed as she rushed over and examined Bendy before noticing a small welt on the demon's head, as if the demon had been hit behind the head. "What the…" "We should find Henry…." Boris said slowly and Alice nodded curtly, a familiar sense of dread rising in her stomach. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 9: Henry gets Tied Up Again "Henry?" Alice called out down the hall and frowned as she didn't heard the man's voice. "He's not down here either…" Boris sighed as he readjusted Bendy, who while had gotten slightly smaller, was still out cold, but now on Boris's back as the two awake toons were looking for their friend. "How are hard is it to find an old man?" Boris mumbled before looking at the ground. "Wait a minute...Susie, doesn't this look like footprints?" He gestured with his foot to the inky look splotch marks in the shape of feet. "Yeah.. it does…" She looked over at the room where the feet seemed to have come from. "Oh?" She walked into the room and spotted the wooden board that had been used to knock out Henry. "Oh! Wally! Sammy! Look!" The angel picked up the board on the side that wasn't covered in ink. "Maybe one of those inky guys whacked Henry and took him somewhere!" Boris shook his head. "Those things aren't smart enough to lift the board, let alone think that far ahead." Boris said, Wally sounding bitter. Alice figured he was just as worried about the older man's whereabout as she was. "Gotta be something else…" "One of our coworkers?" "I don't know...I don't remember them wanting to whack Henry before or being as nuts as Joey." The wolf sighed as Bendy stirred, groaning. "Nugh...my head hurts…" "Easy buddy," Boris said as Bendy lifted his head. "That welt on the side of your head is a doozy." "Welt?" Bendy asked slowly before touching the back of his head. He winced and Boris rolled his eyes. "I wasn't kidding…" Bendy whimpered and Boris sighed. "Just take it easy, I'll keep carrying you until you're better or we find Henry." Bendy grumbled at the mention of the name earning a groan from the wolf. "Well, excuse me for being concerned for a friend and former coworker." Bendy looked at him. "What? What are you talkin' about Boris?" "You wanna tell him Susie? Or should me and Sammy tell him?" Boris asked, looking at the unimpressed angel as Bendy was understandably confused. . . Henry groaned as he slowly regained consciousness, finding himself tied to a pole. He looked around and found the pentagram and other ritualist symbols around the room. He groaned more in annoyance than in actual pain. "I must have some royal ancestors with all the times I'm finding myself tied up today…" He sarcastically said to himself as he looked around, trying to figure out who tied him up this time and where he was. The room was dim, but Henry was able to make out an inky figure hunched over one of the floor symbols. "Sammy?" Henry asked slowly, hesitant to say it was the former Music Director, considering Boris. The figure stopped and turned. "Ah, you've awaken." Henry pursed his lips, trying to recognize the voice as the figure turned back to the thing they were doing. "I was beginning to think you would not be awake to see his glorious presence, a true shame," "Mark?" Henry guessed. "One of Sammy's interns, right? The shorter one of the kids he barked at?" Henry could've sworn he saw the figure make a frown as the figure looked back at him, but it was hard, considering the figure was covered in ink. "You are unwise to speak so casually of His Prophet." Henry sighed, remembering his earlier encounter with Sammy, before he became Boris somehow. "But, you are correct on my name, but I am merely a servant of Our Lord." Henry took a slow frustrated sigh. "I need a stiff drink." . . "And that's all I can fill in for you, Bendy," Alice said as she finished explaining what she knew about this whole situation as they continued looking for Henry. Both Wally and Sammy had filled in the best they could as well, but both men's memories were shoddy at best. The little demon was quiet, Alice guessing that all of it overwhelming for the toon. She knew if it wasn't for the fact she wasn't in this weird in-between spot of either Susie or Alice, she would definitely be feeling overwhelmed. As for right now, the current feeling was concern for Bendy and worry for Henry. Bendy frowned and squirmed. Boris grumbled. "Stop moving, or I'll end up dropping you!" "My legs are uncomfy though!" Bendy whined and Boris let out an annoyed sigh, as if he was dealing with a small child, to which Alice figured was kind of true. "Do you think you can walk?" "Of course!" Boris looked at Alice before slowly setting Bendy down. The demon stretched his legs, frowning slightly. "Everything alright?" Alice asked slowly and Bendy huffed. "I'm not really sure Al-er-Miss Susie-" Bendy fumbled before perking up. "Wait a minute...You guys hear that?" Alice and Boris raised an eyebrow as Bendy looked around. "It sounds like it's coming from over there!" Bendy pointed down the hallway. "I faintly hear something…" Boris admitted. "Sounds like someone explaining something…" "Maybe it's Henry!" Alice said excitedly. "Come on, let's go check it out!" Bendy nodded in agreement and the two hurried down the hall. Boris opened his mouth, as if to point out the obvious shaky idea, but sighed as he realized that he better catch up to the other two, his thoughts on the idea be damned. "Damnit Joey…." . . "H-Henry!" Susie exclaimed as she rushed over to the man as he was pushing himself off the floor, his papers all over, Wally following behind. "I-I'm fine Susie." He grunted, forcing a smile. "J-Just tripped on my own two feet…" Wally frowned, not believing for one second, but Susie beat him to the punch. "Henry, that's malarkey!" Susie sternly said. "You're much more graceful than that!" Henry chuckled nervously as he struggled to get to his feet. "I'll go get Joey-" Wally started to say. "No!" Henry said quickly. "I-I mean no, no it's fine. Really, I just tripped...no need to get Joey involved…" He managed to get to his knees and started to gather the papers, trying to not show his grimace. "Besides, we can't have these shorts late...Sorry about making you two worried." He mumbled the rest as he got to his feet and quickly walked off, his face red with embarrassment. Susie looked at Wally, who seemed to know what she was going to say. "He doesn't want Joey to know about this," "But Wally! He's hu-" "All we know is that he fell." Wally said simply. "Obviously there's something he doesn't want us to know, so we'll humor him." Susie opened her mouth and Wally smiled softly. "Not saying we're not going to keep a good eye on him until either he trusts enough to tell us the truth, or Joey finds out on his own." Susie nodded slowly. "I know it's not the best idea, but it's the best option for now and Henry's got a point; those shorts don't write themselves." He sighed over-dramatically. "And frankly we don't need another theater show about 'studio morale' by Drew." Susie giggled slightly as Wally made a face before the two continued to the Music Department, unaware that one of the younger interns had seen the entire thing. The boy blinked slowly before running to tell Sammy and Joey what he had seen, though also trying to make sure Wally and Susie didn’t catch him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 10: He Returns Henry sighed as he looked at Mark who was working on the symbols, who decided he wasn't in the mood for the old man's snark and was ignoring him. "So what's it going to be this time? Sacrificing me to Bendy? Breaking my legs and leaving me to those ink torsos?" Henry asked, boredom clear in his voice; if he was going to die here, he was at least going to make Mark regret not killing him sooner. "Oh wait, I've got it; Joey did something incredibly stupid and now I've got-" "STILL YOUR TONGUE!" Mark suddenly snapped as he slapped Henry across the face, the old man surprised at the strength of the inky young man among other things. "HOW DARE YOU EVEN THINK OF MOCKING THE MOST BLESSED OF OUR LORD!?" Henry was still in shock at being smacked as Mark growled before stopping, as there was a small chuckling sound. "Mark, your protectiveness of me is very honorable, I must say." Henry felt a pit in stomach as an familiar voice mused. Mark turned and got to his knees. "Blessed One, you are too kind." Henry would've normally have made a quip, but he was still in shock with hearing that voice. "Mark, I believe I heard more, guests, down the halls. Go bring them here to partake in the ritual; I shall speak with Henry here alone." Mark merely nodded and stepped out of the room. Henry finally found his voice as he shakily spoke, looking up at the owner of the voice. "J-Joey?" . . "Ow!" Bendy mumbled as Alice gingerly touched his cheek, where the faint outline of where someone had 'smacked' him had appeared. "Sorry Bendy…" She said slowly, before sighing. "I have no idea how that happened.." Bendy whined and rubbed his cheek before Alice spotted Mark walking down the hall. "What in the world? Who is that?" Bendy was quietly rubbing his cheek as Boris finally caught up to the two. "I'm just saying this is a horrible idea!" Sammy's voice was evident with irritation. "Can it Wet Blanket, I'm not being left alone with just you in this hellhole." Bendy looked at Alice who shrugged, having no idea why the two were bickering now. "Father Lawrence?" Mark asked in confusion and the three toons looked at each other other. "I hear your voice, but I do not see you…" "Prophet?" Bendy wondered aloud before looking at Boris, who shrugged. "Sounds a bit like Mark…." Alice mused slowly. "Who?" Bendy asked, frustration obvious in his voice. "I'm starting to get really annoyed with being the odd toon out! What is going on?!" Mark came closer to the toons before bowing. "My Lady," Mark said to Alice, who chuckled nervously, obviously not expecting that, before Mark registered Boris and Bendy. The inky figure made a confused noise before shaking his head. "You must be the ones the Blessed One were referring to." "Blessed One?" Bendy asked, confused. "Who's that?" Boris frowned as the figure seemed to smile. "I will show you. Follow me…" . . "It has been a few years, hasn't it Henry?" Henry was still flabbergasted as the thing with Joey's voice spoke, walking in front of him; it definitely wasn't his former best friend, but it still has his voice. The thing seemed to smirk, as if realizing Henry's shock. The thing chuckled before its inky sheen seemed to shift and the taller thing took on a more familiar face. Henry's jaw dropped as this tall lanky demonic mockery of the tiny cartoon he had drew for so many years, shifted and became his former best friend, looking no older than the last he day he had last seen Joey, though slightly paler than how Henry remembered. Henry was trying to figure out what he was feeling as several conflicting emotions were running through him; horror at what had happened while he was gone; relief at seeing his best friend still alive; annoyance of his friend not untying him; and confusion on what the hell was going on. Joey chuckled at his friend's reaction. "You seem surprised, Henry." "H-How…?" Joey chuckled before smiling and somehow summoning a chair for himself made of ink and sitting down casually, as if making an ink chair out of nothing was completely normal. "A few things changed since you abandoned the studio." That seemed to snap Henry out of his shock as he frowned. "I didn't abandon the place. I left, cause somebody kept treating me like a child." Joey frowned darkly before chuckling and shaking his head, as he was talking a toddler. "Henry, you haven't changed at all," Joey mused. "Still as hard headed as ever...and stubborn to boot." Henry didn't look impressed. "And you're still over dramatic and theatrical." Both men looked at each other for a few moments, trying to keep their glares at each other before they couldn't take the silence as they both snorted and chuckled, perhaps a small part of the both of them still being the close friends they once were. After a few moments, Henry sighed and looked at him. "Joey…" He shook his head, trying to think of the right words. "What the hell's going on here?" Joey raised an eyebrow before smiling, though Henry felt his blood run cold at the smile. "Isn't it obvious, Henry old boy? I'm making things right." . . "Sweet Mother Mary, what the hell was that noise?!" Wally exclaimed as he heard a loud banging noise. "Wally! Can you get to Sammy's office?" He heard Norman yell from the stairs. "Damn pipes bursted again and the stairs are flooded again!" Wally sighed in annoyance; what the hell was Joey thinking, installing this infernal Ink Machine? All it seemed to be doing was making a mess. Wally grumbled before making his way to Sammy's office, where he was met with a confusing scene. "Lawrence?" He asked slowly as he saw the music director, scribbling furiously on blueprints papers, ink covering most of his clothes. The man perked up and Wally blinked slowly; the normally put together (if not uptight) music director was looking disheveled and like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and his office reflecting his current state. "Uh...I'm just here to drain the staircase…The machine busted another pipe..." "Wally!" Sammy shot up from his desk and gripped the janitor's shoulders, surprising Wally with the strength of the almost desperate grip he was getting. "Wally! I've figured out how to fix the machine!" Wally nodded slowly. "Oh really now?" "Oh yes, yes! I have!" Wally wondered what caused his coworker to act like this as the Music Director scurried back to the desk, grabbing the blueprints before shoving the paper in the janitor's hands. "I-I need you to show this t-to J-Joey!" "Uh...why can't you?" Sammy froze before looking around, as if he was afraid of being heard. Sammy leaned close to Wally, the man struggling to not step back away from the director. "I-I can't W-Wally…T-the voices...they'll tell Joey, they'll tell him I've betrayed our lo-Him. W-Wally I-I can't have him notice me…" Wally decided that he wasn't going to ask Sammy about whoever 'they' or him were. "Alright buddy, I'll do this for you." Wally smiled weakly as Sammy looked relieved and a weight had been lifted of his shoulders. "But if this bites in me in the ass, I'm outta here." Sammy nodded slowly. "Of course, of course…" Sammy mumbled and Wally pursed his lips before turning the drainage pipe and leaving Sammy to do whatever he was doing. He later visited Joey after helping clean out Sammy's office when one of the pipes busted. He noted that Sammy was seemingly back to normal as the man grumbled and complained before storming to his 'sanctuary', to which Wally was actually grateful to see the man acting 'normal'. Joey actually seemed interested in the blueprints, but Wally wasn't sure why Sammy was so desperate about not being the one to give it to Joey, but Wally had to admit; Joey was definitely acting a lot stranger now that Henry had been gone. As Wally was leaving the studio for the night he looked up at the sky. "I wonder if Henry's still at his old address...maybe I can write him..." Wally said before chuckling. "Maybe he can help me figure out what the hell Joey means by his theatrics." The man smiled softly before heading home. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 11: Not According to Plan “Hey, Wally, you’ve seen Lawrence yet?” The janitor looked up from the trashcan he was looking through to find his keys at some of the band members. “You guys haven’t seen him?” Wally asked slowly as the band shrugged, absently sitting and fiddling with their instruments. He looked at Norman, who shrugged. "He's not in his office, the voice actors haven't seen him either…" The janitor sighed. "Maybe he's in a meeting with Mr. Drew?" The cellist offered weakly and Norman nodded. "Maybe, I mean those meetings do take forever…" Wally nodded in agreement, his thoughts going back the panicked look of the Music Director's eyes as the man talked about Joey not "noticing him", wondering both if that had something to do with the missing director and if Joey would actually put the studio at risk. He sighed and shook his head. "Well, till Wet Blanket shows up, I guess we should keep working…" . . "What the hell do you mean by making things right?!" Henry exclaimed as he struggled to get free from being tied up. Joey ignored the demands by the old man, instead standing up and walking around Henry, inspecting the way Mark had tied him up. "JOEY! Don't you fucking ignore me! What the hell are you blathering about!? What do you mean making things right?!" Joey spotted the dimly glowing pentagram on Henry's hand and frowned. "That isn't right…" Joey said slowly and Henry rolled his eyes in frustration. "No shit Sherlock…." The older man snapped as Joey took Henry's hand, Henry shuddering at the coldness of his former-friend. "This isn't right...it shouldn't be this mark….this is the wrong mark…" Joey looked at Henry, frowning. "What the hell did he-" "Blessed One, I have brought the guests!" Joey straightened up and turned to face the toons, his manner quickly changing to a man that was still in control of the situation. "Excellent." "Henry!" Alice exclaimed. "Joey!" Bendy exclaimed as well before sighing in relief. "Man, finally somebody who makes sense around here!" He gestured to the other two toons. "These two are confusing~!" He looked at Henry and raised an eyebrow. "Why's Henry tied up? I mean I know he's a traitorous spotlight-stealing jerk-wad, but isn't tying him up a bit overkill?" "Says the idiot that was going to strangle him…." Boris mumbled and both Joey and Bendy looked at him in annoyance before Boris looked at Joey. "Now let Henry go before I kick your spindly bell into next week." Joey shook his head. "Not until the ritual is complete. And with this new development, I will not let him go." "Ritual?!" Henry demanded. "Joey what the fuck are you going on about!?" Joey sighed and motioned for Mark to leave. The ink figured bowed and walked out, closing the door behind him. Joey turned to Henry, the old man struggling to not shrink back from the man's glare as the other three were equally confused and shocked. "That is a protection seal." Joey said darkly. "That isn't the correct mark…it s-should be a mark for a transmogrification..." Henry noticed that Joey seemed to be trembling or shuddering as Joey's features seemed to drip and droop. "It's at the wrong angle...there should be two pointing up…This isn't how it should work...why didn't it work?! It worked for Susie...what I did to the Music Department worked...so why not this time!?" Henry felt a small pang as he could've sworn he heard Joey's voice falter, like he was going to start tearing up. Boris growled and Alice frowned slightly as Bendy looked confused. "What are you talking about Joey? Isn't that what we wanted?" Everyone looked at Bendy, who even himself looked surprised at what he was saying. "We wanted to help Henry...like how he helped us all the time? What better way is there than a protection seal? I mean I didn't finish it yet, but I can right now if you want it!" Joey looked at Bendy slowly and Henry shot a glance at Boris, who hurried over and quickly began to untie him while Joey was distracted. "No...we were to fix him…" Joey said slowly before growling. "That isn't what I wanted you IDIOT!" Luckily Boris had finished untying Henry and the old man spotted a nearby wood plank as Alice pulled Bendy back as Joey stepped forward. Henry grabbed the board, only hesitating for a moment. "Joey...I'm sorry…" The old man managed out in a quiet voice before swinging the plank and hitting Joey upside the head. The other 'man' staggered back, his form taking the inky monstrous-looking Bendy from before as Joey turned back to Henry. "YOU…." "Time to go!" Boris howled and grabbing Henry and barely avoiding Joey's swing. They ran to the other toons and Alice took Bendy's hand and followed Boris as the four bolted as Joey yelled, enraged, and began to chase after them. . . "Mr. Ozell?" Henry perked up from his sweeping and looked down at the owner of the voice; a 6 year old boy, and his slightly older sister at 8, looking sheepish. Henry raised an eyebrow and fought to keep his smile down as he spotted the shop owner roll their eyes "I thought I told you that you two can call me Henry? Unless of course you two are wanting sweets and thinking you can use my last name to act all innocent, in order to get it, right?" The two children looked at each other in surprise, realizing that they were caught as Henry chuckled. "Two pieces, right?" "Actually, three!" The 6 year old said, excitedly. "Nana's here too!" Henry nodded slowly. "Well, you know I'll need payment from Nana too." He said, trying his best to keep a serious face as the two kids beamed before running out of the store, to get their 'Nana'. The shop owner chuckled. "You are spoiling them rotten Henry, I hope you realize that." The man shrugged playfully, before wincing slightly. The owner raised an eyebrow as the children entered again, dragging an older woman behind them. "Henry, are you alright?" "I-I-" Henry felt a searing pain along his throat and chest and collapsed to his knees, struggling to breathe and stay awake. The shop owner and the woman rushed over to him as Henry could've sworn he heard a familiar voice ringing in his ears before everything went black. He had done it, he had done it! Joey was almost giddy with excitement as he looked at what he had brought into this world; granted the demon was much smaller than he had originally expected, but he guess that must've been due to Henry's older sketches he had used as sacrifices, as Henry always drew the demon on the shorter side, especially so the demon could fit on the margin of letters he had sent him during his time over in Europe. Joey's face falter for a moment as he thought about his old friend, a brief questioning doubt entering his mind before he shook his head quickly, dispelling the doubts. "No, I can not turn back now…" He said to himself. "Not when I am so close…" He looked at the demon, who was curiously looking around with wide eyes, taking in everything before looking at Joey, who smiled. "Hello Bendy…Welcome to the real world..." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 12: Lost Little Sheep A loud foghorn echoed throughout the halls as the three toons and human rounded the corner before they found an office to hide in. After a few moments, they heard 'Joey' slug by, growling like some feral beast, before it became quiet again, Joey rounding a corner and walking away from their hideout."W-What the trolley bell was that?!" Alice exclaimed in a hushed whisper as Boris helped Henry to a sitting position on the floor, the older man trying to not show how much pain he was in. Bendy was quiet, almost forlorn, as he sat against the door. Alice looked between Boris, who shrugged. "That couldn't have been Mr. Drew! And what was he going on about?!""I think...I know what's going on…" Bendy said quietly, grabbing everyone's attention, hugging his knees as he looked up at Henry. "Joey used part of you to bring me here…" Henry opened his mouth in confusion. "Not sure of the details though…""But I was only your voice actor for you for less than a couple of months before I left. I don't see why Joey-" Bendy held up his hand."You created me. You were the first person to come up with my design… 'A little dancing demon, just like us'." Henry was a bit unnerved as Bendy sounded like his younger self for a moment, before the demon smiled sympathetically. "You're the one who drew me in your letters to Joey while he was overseas…" Henry sighed slowly and looked away. "Whether you like it or not, I'm part a big part of you as you to me. Without you, there's no me. And Joey knows that.""Ok then," Boris said. "Why the bell is Henry still Henry and not stuck like me or Susie!" Alice looked at Boris before looking at Bendy. “I know Joey didn’t fog horn love me or Lawrence that much.”"Well, I mean besides Joey doing it wrong?" Bendy offered. "More than likely, it's the fact that Henry wasn't close enough here for the ritual when Joey did it…" Bendy tapped his chin. "Hmm...but that doesn't explain why I'm still here...I should've just drip away within that first few months…""Sacrifices?" Alice asked slowly and Bendy furrowed his brows."Even if Joey sacrificed the entire studio, I would only be here for a few years! Unless…""Probably that Infernal Ink Machine…" Boris grumbled. "But even that's debatable; Joey's no mechanic, that thing was always breaking...""Unless?" Henry asked slowly, his thoughts going back to seeing the multiple coffins littering the studio as he shuddered."Unless maybe Joey sacrificed part of his soul….and didn't realize it? I mean, he is kinda droopy…" Bendy said before shaking his head. "I don't really know, I'm sorry I don't have any better answers guys, maybe more will click later...""It's ok, Bendy," Alice said softly."No, it's not ok." Boris said. "I'm stuck with Wet Blanket here." Alice glared at Boris as Henry made an annoyed sigh. "Don't give me that look he's a pain." Boris frowned momentarily, earning an eyebrow raise from the others. "Not going to lie, I'm expecting some snark back from you Lawrence...Lawrence?""What's wrong?" Henry asked slowly and Boris looked at him."I can't hear him...He's not saying anything...it's like he's not here…""But he was talking earlier…even Mark recognized his voice." Alice noted and Bendy nodded in agreement. “Though I have idea why he called Sammy ‘Father Lawrence’...” Henry furrowed his brows as he thought about what he remembered about Sammy before his face fell as it clicked on why the Music Director would be so quiet."Oh gods…Sammy..." The toons looked at Henry. “Father Lawrence was his father…”“Well, that’s appropriate…” Bendy said, rolling his eyes and Henry shook his head.“No, not like that, Sammy’s father was the preacher in town...Sammy was terrified of him…”. . "Can I help you sir?" Henry asked, disinterest obvious in his voice. The much older man furrowed his brows, clutching his black hat. "Where is Samuel Lawrence?" Henry didn't have a reaction. "Usually people send a card before showing up," The older man was not impressed with the sarcasm. "And who are you?" "I am Father Lawrence," Henry made an 'oh' sound. "Appropriate first name I assume." Henry mentally smirked at the man's reaction; he of course knew of Sammy's father, the preacher and current pain in the ass for the studio. The man was pretty set that not only was animation the 'devil's work' but that his grown son should be in the clergy with, and that Henry and Joey were leading his son/sheep Sammy astray. 'Because clearly me and Joey are the devil,' Henry thought to himself before starting to close the door. "Well, sorry sir, but there's no Samuel here. Now if you excuse us, we're busy bringing people joy." The preacher was about to call Henry some unholy names, but the door was slammed in the man's face, ending the conversation. Henry sighed in annoyance as he turned away from the door. “Stubborn old goat…” "Who was that Henry?" Joey's voice came from his office. "Nobody that important." Henry called back before noticing Sammy, who was leaning against the wall, about four seconds from entering the lobby and seeing his father. "Sammy?" The Music Director looked up with a weak smile. "This is the third time this week…." He said softly, obviously shaken by the idea of seeing his father again. "Thank you for handling him for me...though you've probably just angered him…" Henry shrugged. "It’s a talent, me pissing people off…” Henry sighed and shook his head before looking at the slightly younger man. “He should learn that you're an adult; you make whatever choices you want." Sammy nodded slowly as if he didn't totally believe himself. Henry smiled sympathetically and held Sammy's shoulders, making the slightly taller man look at him. "You're not him, never will be. I promise Sam, you're your own person...At the risk of being cheesy, you're Boris playing the song, not the sheep following along." Sammy snorted as Henry smiled. "I'm actually heading to get my fifth coffee right now before I have to get back to the inking, want to come along?" Sammy looked at the door warily, as there was some frustrated knocking starting up again before nodding. "Yeah...that sounds like a good idea…" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 13: An Ugly Word Henry winced as he tried adjusting his legs so he would feel more comfortable; Alice and Boris were trying to "talk" Sammy out of his silence, with debatable success as Sammy was convinced he was just like his father with what Mark had called him and Henry guessed that he was remembering what had happened earlier, which was the nail in the coffin, so to speak for the Music Director. Bendy, however, was looking at him, arms around his knees. Henry couldn't lie, Henry felt a little unnerved by the little dancing demon's unblinking gaze staring, joke unintended, into his soul. "Why?" Bendy suddenly asked and Henry blinked in surprised. "What?" "Why did you come back? I know Joey sent you a letter, but that basically had "trap" written over it, and I know you would've caught on to that, so why did you come anyways?" Henry was quiet as he mulled over his thoughts, thinking of the best way to explain his reasons as Boris and Alice looked at him, curious to know the old man's reasonings as well. "...I knew that letter was a trap…” He finally said after a few moments. “Even if Joey was sincere, I doubt I would've gotten here without a scrape." He scoffed slowly. "I've just had some time to think about what really matters…" He shut his eyes as he continued. "And of course living through another horrific war helps put our stupid argument in perspective…" Boris and Alice's eyes widened in horror as Henry sighed before looking at Bendy. "I won't lie, I don't regret leaving the studio in the slightest, but it shouldn't have been under those circumstances…" Henry sighed and shook his head. "I don't think Joey could ever understand how much I hated those words…" "What words?" Alice asked slowly. "'You can't' or 'you shouldn't', everyone had been telling me that from day one… "Henry, you shouldn't push yourself, you remember what the doctors said," “Henry you shouldn’t do that, you’re still sick, you’re still injured!” "Henry you can't be walking yet!" "Henry, you're still hurt, you shouldn't-you can't do that." It was so frustrating to hear it from family...the doctors...complete strangers...people who I thought were my friends and not like the rest! Who I thought treated me as an equal and wouldn’t treat me like a fucking CHILD!" Henry yelled the last part before he realized his cheeks were wet. He rubbed his eyes and he looked away in embarrassment. "Henry…" Alice said slowly after a moment. "I trusted him…" He whispered, losing the fight against his tears. "He was my best friend….He was supposed to support me, have my back….but I guess he was nothing but a liar….he never cared..." He struggled to steady his breathing, Alice coming over to offer a comforting hand as Bendy looked at the ground, seeming to studying the different ink splats, seeming to mouth the words Henry had said he hated so much. . . "Easy child." Henry grunted a response as he pushed himself for a sitting position. "Going too hard will break more than help." Henry looked at the older woman, Nana, who was sitting with him at the hospital. "You're eloquent." The woman smiled. "I've got to have someway to make a living." Henry snorted before wincing. "Everything's going to be sore...the doctor is still running tests, but the consensus is that you had a heat stroke." Henry frowned; that didn't seem right. The woman seemed to notice. "You don't think that's it?" "I just never thought-" "Most of the time it's never thought about, it's a surprise to all, even to those that plan and expect." Henry didn't look impressed. "Well am I wrong?" Henry sighed and shook his head. "Are the other two ok?" Nana nodded simply. "Yes, they were understandably frightened when you fell, but I think they're alright now." As she said that, the two children came into the room, followed by a doctor. The two children excitedly talked to Henry, happy that he was alright. For a few moments, Henry felt at peace, as the children tried helping the doctor, who was obviously trying to keep a straight face humoring the two as Nana smiled softly, though Henry noticed she was fiddling with a rosary in one of her hands,slipping it under Henry's pillow. He looked at Nana, who mouthed to him, 'I will explain later' before patting his shoulder gently, leaving the former animator puzzled, wondering what she meant. Susie was the brave one to enter the office of Joey after the ‘incident’. The man in question barely even reacted to the woman carefully opening the door, the man staring at his desk while his hands supported his weight as he leaned against the desk. "Mr. Drew?" She asked softly and got a pathetic grunt from the now single owner of the studio. "I-We, wanted to check on you…." Joey slowly looked up; gaunt and drained even more than he was normally. Susie sighed softly before walking over to Joey, careful to be gentle and methodical in her movements, to not send her boss over the edge, as she helped him back into the chair and helped move things around the desk, so she could make sure he didn't accidentally hurt himself if he hit his head against the desk again. "He's gone…" Joey mumbled slowly. "Henry….gone…" Susie pursed her lips, remembering the yelling match earlier before Henry stormed out of the studio, not even bothering to grab his things before leaving. "It's all my fault…" Joey looked at his hands and Susie frowned slightly, now knowing why Henry’s jaw looked bruised as he stormed out. “I-I’m a monster…to do that...” "No…you’re not..." She said slowly, careful with her words. "It's...probably the stress that caused it." Joey looked at her. "You boys have been working nonstop to bring Bendy shorts to everyone; in fact I don't think either one of you had a break or any time off in the last few weeks. Have you even been home, away from the studio at all?" Joey looked away sheepishly, before Susie took Joey's head in her hands and made him look at her. "I think Henry just needs some time to rest, as do you as well." She added just a hint of stern to her voice, to make sure Joey got the message that he needed to hear, at least for the sake of the business. "Besides, Henry left most of his things, so he'll be back, he just needs to cool off too. Or else Wally and Norman are going to fight about who is going to keep it." Joey looked at her before a smile crept onto his face. "You're right…" Susie smiled. "You know it," She patted his cheek with one of her hands. "Now, you get packed so you head home; Sammy and Wally can close the place for the night." She stood up and headed to the door. She paused a moment before turning back to her boss. "It will be alright, Mr. Drew...Tomorrow's a new day after all." Joey nodded and Susie left, leaving the man alone in his thoughts. Joey slowly started to grab his things, knowing full well that Susie would drag him out, or have Sammy help her drag him out, if he took too long. He had to admit, the woman was committed to make sure everyone was staying healthy. He paused as he looked at one of the books he had found; it was a book on different demonic beings. For show research he claimed, whenever anyone raised an eyebrow. He leaned against the desk and flipped through the pages absently, before stopping on a page he hadn't gotten to yet. "Protection demons?" He read aloud before skimming the page; as strange as it sounded, there was evidence that people had summon demons to act as guardians, protectors of sort. It sounded a bit like guardian angels, though more proactive and in the world with the person they were assigned or bonded too. Joey paused as an idea formed in his mind; perhaps there was another way for him to help his closest friend. Joey smirked as he carefully dog-eared the page to go back to it later and grabbed his items and left the office, he had some planning to do tonight. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 14: The Ritual Continues Joey growled as he retraced his steps, trying to find them; it was not time for hiding, it was time to do the proper ritual to fix Henry! He couldn't believe his luck; the demon wasn't doing what it was supposed to do. It didn't make sense, he did the ritual correctly, he was sure of it! He didn't try and use Henry as a connection to bring the demon here, nor did he use the 'ink method' that he had tried with Sammy and most of the Music Department. Joey shook his head, ink droplets coming off of him, as he stormed the halls, the Searchers whimpering and trying to huddle away. He vaguely remembered what they were before all this ink, but it didn't matter; they followed his orders and that was all that mattered. "Henry…" He growled. "Where is he?!" He got nothing in response before he paused; was he hearing someone new? He frowned, the sound sounded to someone trying to stifle their tears, though it sounded slightly familiar. Joey slithered towards the sound, a playful curiosity starting to replace the anger, why would anyone be sad down here? Joey puffed his cheeks in a strangely comedic way; He needed to remedy that as soon as possible! . . Wally was pretty good at keeping a straight face as he met Henry for the first time; the animator was excitedly explaining the ideas he had for the first 'Bendy' short; calling it "The Dancing Demon" or something like that. He had to admit, this young man was a breath of fresh air, compared to what he had been dealing with less than a few weeks earlier. "So whadda think?" Henry asked, after catching his breath. "Are you on board?" Wally chuckled. "Well, I'm not much of an animator," Wally bit his tongue as he watched the other man lean back in his chair, thinking, his tongue sticking out slightly. "That's not really that big of an issue…" "Henry!" The man snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the man coming in; Joey Drew, Wally noted. He already knew Joey technically; they were in the same unit during the war, though he didn't make an effort to be overly social with the other man. He wasn't mean, but Wally just felt something was off with the guy. "I thought you said you were going to rest!" Wally noted the momentary face falling from Henry before the shorter man smiled. "I did for a bit." Joey didn't look convinced before seeing Wally. "Lit. Franks?" "Just call me Wally, Drew." Wally said simply. "And I was walking by, and noticed Henry's drawings...and he started telling about this little 'Bendy' guy." Was he lying a tad, especially since he only came over over when he spotted Henry struggling to move boxes? Perhaps, but Wally knew that something was up between the two, especially judging from how Henry reacted to seeing Joey's scolding. He saw Henry's thankful look before the man looked back at Joey. "I was offering him a chance to work with us, Joey!" Joey nodded slowly, as if considering it. "Yeah, I mean, I might only be good for grunt work, but I can help." Wally said. "But if you don't need me, then I'll be outta ya hairs." . . Bendy was quiet as Alice continued to help calm Henry down. "You ok?" Bendy looked up at Boris/Sammy/Wally standing next to him and shrugged. "I don't know what to think. Or even do…" Bendy whispered. "I mean...I don't know how to really explain it…" Boris nodded and sat next to him. "I mean on the one hand, Joey either created or summoned me with the initial purpose to help Henry...but I guess I'm not doing it right? But I'm also mad that Henry left, kinda?" Bendy shook his head. "And like I have memories of the cartoons like they actually happened to me...but I know they're not really real? And I have this really weird feeling of emptiness...like I'm missing something, but I don't know what it is…" Boris nodded, deep in thought. “I just feel all mixed up and jumbled!” "I totally understand how you're feeling…" Bendy looked up at the wolf. "I mean, the mismatch of all the emotions and memories; it's a bit unnerving, but I say just roll with it…We'll get outta here in no time." Bendy nodded glumly and Boris smirked. "And of course we're going to have to introduce you the number of cakes there are besides Devil and Angel Food Cakes." That seemed to catch Bendy's attention as he looked up at Boris. "Really?!" Boris chuckled before he started telling him about the desserts he remembered, Bendy becoming completely engrossed as Henry wiped his eyes and absently cleaned his glasses as Alice sat next to him. "Are you going to be ok, Henry?" She asked as the older man nodded slowly. "I think so...strangely…" Alice raised an eyebrow. "As horrible as it sounds, I almost feel grateful that I got that off my chest…." Alice nodded, a soft smile on her face as Henry sighed. "I had that bottled up so long...but now we just need to get out of here with our lives…" "Why would we leave?" Henry and Alice turned, wondering why Bendy would say that, only to see that it wasn't Bendy. “This place is supposed to be fun!” "J-Joey?" Henry managed out before he slumped, everything catching up and overwhelming the old man, causing him to faint with a groan. "Henry!" Alice exclaimed, trying to shake the man awake before looking up at the monstrous owner of Sillyvision Studios, biting back a gulp of fear as the inky man tilted his head to one side, as if curious as to what just happened. “Why’d he slump over?” "He...uh...fainted I guess?" "Why?" Alice looked around the room and saw Boris and the actual Bendy, equally shocked at seeing Joey, and dumbfounded at the man's behavior right now. "Is there a monster in here?" Alice took this as her chance. "Oh yes! There's a terrible monster in here, just frightful!" Joey looked around, appearing cartoonishly scared. "But it's invisible and reappears at will! Oh! I think I saw it head into the hallway!"Joey turned to look back the hallway. “Oh won’t someone make sure that thing doesn’t cause more trouble?” Joey blinked slowly before straightening up. "I'll see if I can catch it Miss Angel!" Joey turned and quickly ran out of the room. Boris quickly shut the door and made sure it was locked this time and looked at Alice, who was surprised at what Joey had called her; wasn't that how Bendy referred to her in the cartoons? "What the fog horn was that all about?! What the doorbell Joey on?!" Alice shrugged as Bendy furrowed his brows, as if he was realizing something. “Why do you think I have a klaxton idea Wally?! I’m the one covering your car engine sputtering while you stare on like this is some klaxton theatre show!!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 15: The Ritual is Completed Early-Mid 1960s " What is it Henry?" Henry looked up from the paper and at the older man. "I can't believe it either, but it's really his handwriting!" Henry exclaimed as he showed the letter to the shopkeeper and his boss, Walter Mints. Henry was still surprised and a bit shocked, he had received a letter from Wally or other friends still at the studio once and awhile before the war had broken out, but here it was in his hands; a letter from his former friend, Joey Drew. "He's invited to me to head back to the studio...says he's got something to show me…" "And are you going to go?" Henry paused, honestly haven’t thought about that part yet. "I'm not sure...I mean, it's been thirty years since I last saw him…And last time we saw each other, we had a rather nasty fight..." Henry absently rubbed his jaw as Walter nodded understandingly. "Well, it's better late than never to talk to him," Walter offered. "Besides, you might be able to get some new stories for the kids or convince him to come back to the island..." Both men chuckled as Henry nodded. "Yeah, you're right, I'll see if I can arrange a quick trip there in the next few weeks...it would be nice to see how everyone's doing." . . Joey looked down the halls before he stopped; what the hell was he doing? He was looking for where Henry went, he had heard something, and then everything had gone black, like he wasn't there. "Strange…No matter then, it’s not that important." He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts; which were foggy and slow, like he was swimming in molasses. Joey furrowed his brows. "I will find him and finish the ritual for…the ritual…the ritual?" Joey was drawing a blank; what was he supposed to be doing? He looked at the ground and focused, forcing himself to try and remember. "I need to do something..with a ritual? Or was it something else?" He frowned. "Was it something to do with my old buddy Henry?" Joey looked around slowly. "Where is Henry by the way? I know I had sent him that letter a while ago…” Joey tapped his chin with an inky claw before he snapped his fingers. “I got it! I'll just retrace my steps!" Joey paused, wondering why he felt the need to say that outloud before shaking it off and retracing his steps, absently whistling a cheerful jaunty to himself, with even the Searchers giving each other confused glances before scurrying away, hearing the Ink Machine rumble above them, causing the floorboards to creak and groan. . . "Ok, so what's the purpose of this new version of that machine?" "I've got no clue Norman." The two men looked at the ink machine. "I'm still trying to figure out why the hell Sammy couldn't give the plans to Joey himself." Norman shrugged. "Might be that chicken scratch. You know how Joey is, especially since Henry left..." Wally raised an eyebrow and Norman pointed to the scribbling on the back of the blueprints. "See right here…" Wally looked it over and pursed his lips; he didn't remember seeing it before handing it off to Joey, but he guessed he didn't bother to look in the back. "What the hell is that supposed to be?" Wally asked slowly as he tried reading it. "It looks like a little kid wrote it…" "I'd almost say that it looks like a curse or a blessing...or a contract looking thing…" "What have you been smoking?" "Just saying, but even that doesn't seem right; Sammy's a preacher's kid, he'd have no clue how to do any of that demonic occult shit." Wally nodded before they heard a pipe bang and groan. The two echoed the groan. "And who even thinks Sammy made this? These blueprints are fucking horrible and Preacher Boy is as big as a perfectionist as some people we know." Wally snorted. "Valid point, Norman...Valid point." . . "He's still breathing…" Alice sighed, filled with relief as she pulled away from Henry’s chest. "I don't know how long he'll be out though for…" "Well, we can't stay here." Bendy said simply. "But what was going on with Joey? He was acting like me, at least how I remember the shorts being…He shouldn't have been that easy to trick…" Boris nodded in agreement as Bendy furrowed his brows as he thought deeply as Boris sighed. "Yeah, the sooner we get outta here, the better…Alice, you think you can help move Henry enough so I can pick him enough to carry?" Alice nodded before carefully try to move the old man, who groaned. "Ok, maybe we shouldn't move him yet…." "Aha!" The three toons turned and saw Joey voice. "My steps lead back here!" Boris and Alice paled as Joey tried the door, before forcing the door open. "Henry-Oh!" Both Boris and Alice stood in front of Henry, not wanting to see what Joey wanted to do, as Bendy seemed to gain an air of confidence as if he knew how to fix this. "Who...what…wait a minute..." "Well, buddy, who do you happen to be?" Bendy asked casually, earning confused looks from Alice and Boris. Joey opened his mouth to say his name, but closed it, frowning. "I...I...don't remember…" Bendy nodded simply. "Well that's a bit of bummer…" Bendy said as if he was talking to a small child. "How about I help ya out?" Joey cocked his head in confusion before smiling. “How would you do that Mr…?” “Just call me Bendy.” Bendy said smoothly. “And for your first question, see I got some...magic-” “Like a wizard?” Alice and Boris stole glances at each other before looking back at the conversation as Bendy merely chuckled. “Minus the beard and goofy hats, but yeah. See, all I’ll need you to just take my hand,” Bendy held out one of his hands. “And shake it. And then you’ll remember who you are~” Joey frowned slightly, a look of hesitation flashing across his face as Bendy’s smile widened. “So whadda say buddy? Do we have a deal?” Joey blinked slowly before beaming. "Yeah! Thanks pal!" Joey took Bendy's hand and they shook before Joey straightened up like he was at the receiving end of a joy buzzer. His grin faltered a bit as he tried to let go of Bendy's hand, but their hands were fused together. Bendy kept his smile on his face as the two continued to melt, their ink starting to pool together. "B-Bendy!" Alice exclaimed. "W-What are you doing?!" Joey struggled to get free from Bendy's grip as the demon turned and looked at Alice. "Finishing the ritual." He said as if was obvious as Joey hollowed like a wounded animal before his form trembled and there were sickening popping and cracking sounds as he seemed to be withering away in horrific fashion, like a melting figure made of clay. "Be back in a minute." With that, the two seemed to dissolve into a large ink puddle. There was a deathly still silence between the two remaining toons as Henry made a grunt and began forcing himself awake. "W-What happened…?" He managed out before realizing something was wrong, judging by the two horrified looks the toons had on their faces. "Susie? Wally? Sammy?What happened? I just remember seeing Joey…and where's Bendy?" "That devil did something to Joey…And they melted to that..." Sammy managed out quietly before the ink puddle rippled and made a slurping noise. Everyone tensed as an ink figure rose, before taking a familiar form. The dancing demon smiled playfully as he adjusted his newly added bow-tie, clearly bemused by everyone's reactions. "Did ya miss me?" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Inky Depths Below A Bendy and the Ink Machine Fan Fiction Chapter 16: Curtain Call "B-Bendy?" Alice asked slowly, not fully believing what she was seeing, as the demon stretched his arms, his smug smile still plastered on his face. "That's my name, don't wear it out." "H-How…? Where…?" Alice struggled to find the words as she tried to figure out what questions should be first. Luckily, Boris spoke for everyone. "What the klaxton did we just witness?!" Bendy chuckled sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "Besides what I said earlier? Well, it's a bit complicated and the details are still trickling in-pun intended-so you better get comfy…" Bendy wiped the area beneath him before plopping down sitting across from the others. "Ok, so we all know Joey was planning to summon a protection demon for ya Henry, ‘cause he wanted to make sure you didn’t kick the bucket and he thought he was being a good friend by doing that, right?" Bendy paused as he gauged the reactions before sighing and rubbing the bridge of his non-existent nose. "Lemme try that again; We all know Joey was playing with crap he shouldn't have, can we agree on that much?" The others nodded slowly. "Now, Joey got bits and pieces of the summoning ritual right, and he did parts of them in the right order, however, the problem is that he forgot the crucial thing with dealing with the devil, so to speak." "Call a local priest?" "Call some paranormal mooks with goofy backpacks?" Bendy gave Boris a look, who shrugged. "There's always a catch?" Henry asked slowly and Bendy made a finger gun with his hand and 'fired' it at Henry. "Bingo." He said. "See, Joey obviously wanted to make sure that his plan worked, that's why he tested it on the staff first, some more successful than others….But the thing is, there's a cost...With Miss Susie," He gestured to Alice. "You were the most 'connected' to the character of Alice Angel, so Joey figured if he got the ritual right, then he'd be able to do the same to Henry, since he also had a ‘connection’ with a character." Alice's face fell. "But since he decided that not telling you about the ritual, there was a hiccup, hence you being literally connected, scrambling your memories...I mean maybe they’ll settle and reorganize, but I can’t make any promises..." Alice made a quiet 'oh' sound. "As for Wally and Sammy, well, Joey tried two-well three-different ways to make sure you still had your memories. And he majorly goofed with that…" Bendy chuckled nervously. “No idea why he went with the whole ‘Prophet’ and me being a religious figure shindig…” "Can it be reversed?" Bendy shrugged at the wolf's question. "Don't think there's a return policy on demonic summonings for cartoon characters…." Boris groaned in disgust and Alice sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "Hey, hey, no tears, it's not so bad!" Both toons looked at Bendy, unimpressed. "Ok, it's kinda bad, admittedly, but at least you aren't puddles?" "But that doesn't explain that ink machine…." Henry muttered and Bendy snorted. "Actually, it does! You see, Joey built it to act as a way to keep me here fully; kinda like delaying the end result so that he could perfect the ritual and get you back here and do the ritual and boom, we're connected, bonded, whatever fancy word you wanna call it! Obviously that didn't go so well, at least for him…" Henry took a slow deep breath as he absently touched his chest, remembering that 'heat stroke' he had suffered several years back that he still wasn’t sure how it happened; was it possible that it was because of Joey screwing with things that shouldn't be screwed with? As if reading his mind, Bendy answered. "Yeah, that's why you passed out wherever you where; Joey used whatever he had in hand that was essentially 'you'-barring a few things-to offer your soul to bring me here. Granted the end result should've been you feeling compelled to come back to the studio...so I've got no clue how you managed-" Henry gasped as he clutched something around his neck. "The rosary!" The toons looked at him in confusion and Henry went mildly red. "U-Uh...one of the customers that came to the market I worked at, gave me a rosary after I had blacked out and aren't those used for protection or something?" Alice raised an eyebrow and Henry gave her a look. "Don't even toy with that idea, Susie! There was no relationship with her other than friends!" "Anyways!" Bendy said, clapping his hands to get everyone's attention. "Since you weren't there, and didn't come, at least not right away, and since the ritual called for a person's full soul...I kinda...sort of…" "You took his soul!?" "Technically?" Bendy shrugged. "I mean there's only so long I can stay without anything…but I wasn't even aware I was doing that…" Bendy shut his eyes as he continued. "At least until that sixth time the machine broke…I realized that something wasn't working…so…I tried fixing it...To make me fully here, if that makes any sense..." He let out a sigh. "I started to talk to Sammy...to get him to make something that could fix the machine...but whatever Joey was doing to him and the music department made it difficult…he started losing it and Joey capitalized on that, manipulating him to be my prophet or something stupid like that...and sacrifice more of the staff to keep me here..." Boris was stunned. "And admittedly it kinda worked...especially when you got Joey to build it, Wally, but then Joey shut the machine down once he released it wasn't doing what he needed….His mind was slipping Henry..." Bendy sighed. "He was so desperate and he started losing why he wanted to summon me in the first place…he wasn’t himself anymore...so…" "So…?" Henry asked slowly, not truly wanting to hear the answer. "So I had to arrange things…” Bendy said, sighing softly before looking at Henry. “I mean Joey was the one who wrote you the letter-that was all him, I think he was planning on fusing you to me, but to actually be Bendy and start up the cartoons again I guess..." Bendy chuckled bitterly. "But I kept trying to make sure that you were one step ahead of Joey...course the machine being shut off for so long, I was out of it till just recently. So, sorry about trying to strangle you multiple times…" Henry was stunned and silent and Bendy chuckled nervously. "But hey, you started up the machine, which helped me out by basically speeding up the ritual and then tada, fused with Joey in a sense." "Whadda mean 'in a sense'?!" Boris exclaimed and Bendy had a sheepish grin. "Remember how Henry mentioned there's always a catch?" Bendy said slowly. "Whatever Joey's intentions were in the beginning, for good or for ill, he wanted to have control...and he's paid the price for it." Bendy let that hang in the air as everyone took that information and processed that. Henry was silent; his best friend was gone. He wondered for a brief moment if there was anything that he could've done to stop Joey before shaking his head; even if he hadn't had the fight and left, Joey would've still done this, the man wasn't referred to as a 'stubborn old hen' behind his back for nothing. Henry sighed slowly before breaking the silence. "So Joey's dead?" Bendy looked surprised. "What? Oh bell whistle no! No, he's not dead!" Bendy exclaimed quickly before tapping the side of his head. "He's fused with me, though he's gonna be out for a while…and even then he's not going to be that much in control...So essentially he’s me and I’m him..." Henry nodded slowly before there was the sound of several pipes breaking. "Shit! What the hell was that?!" "We should probably get going...like right now!" Bendy exclaimed as he helped Henry up. If he was being honest, Henry was expecting more burning from his hand, but instead nothing happened. As if sensing his question, Bendy spoke. "Since I'm technically 'complete' no need for your soul for me to use. The mark’s gonna stay though, so long as I’m protecting your clumsy butt." Henry didn't look impressed as Bendy chuckled. "Don't worry buddy, not more rituals are gonna happen, just a delightfully dancing demon and the other two, now, in the words of Wally, let's get outta here!" He pretty much started to drag Henry along, the other two following as ink started to flood more and more, with parts of the ceiling falling behind them. "The stairs should be around this corner, come on!" . . "So then, there we were, stuck and listening to that idiot drone on and on and on about how amazing this was and how we were fools, though frankly, in my opinion, we weren't the two that tied up two people and going on about how great our plan was." The children sat excitedly as their storyteller continued to tell the tale, enwrapped with the story, as Henry and Walter watched in bemusement as parts of the story Bendy was telling the children were acted it out with the 'help' of Boris. It had been several weeks since the events of Henry and the others escaping the studio, which with a thunderous groan, collapsed upon itself as a they barely made it out of the studio, it's mysteries blocked off from the rest of the world. It still took some getting used to; after all, Henry spent a good chunk of his years there, but he knew that it was for the best; last thing was some moron to get themselves killed or mess with things they shouldn't. Of course that didn’t keep the nightmares or the sense of unease away, but Henry knew he would power through, especially with his former coworkers-turned-toons living with him now. "Pretty lively fella." Walter said, bringing Henry from his thoughts. "Glad the kids enjoy him…" "Yeah, admittedly surprised that no one freaked out that much." Henry admitted, thinking about when he first introduced his 'former coworkers' to his friends. There was surprise and concern, of course, but Henry had honestly expected to be run out of town with whom he brought back. Walter shrugged absently. "It's strange, but frankly, it's a much better strange than the strange we've dealt with Henry. I’d take the toons, then deal with soldiers with no sense of picking up after themselves and making a mess of my shop." Henry laughed before sighing. "Yeah…" "And now! We must break!" Bendy said dramatically, earning giggles from the children and an eyeroll from Boris. "Can I at least be untied first?" Bendy looked at Boris as if he had forgotten the wolf was tied to a chair, earning more giggles and snickering from the audience. "Well, I guess I could…" Bendy looked at the kids. "Should I untie him?" Boris made a face as the kids yelled their different answers, while some kids were pointing out Alice who was 'sneaking' and untying Boris, not that Bendy 'noticed'. "Looks like the generous consensus is no, Boris-bud...dy?" Boris, now untied, was tapping his foot, his arms crossed, though Henry saw the playful smirk on the wolf's face. "I think somebody owes me and the kids some candy." Bendy mocked like he was offended as the kids 'turned' on Bendy, excited on getting some free candy. Bendy opened his mouth to argue but then sighed, the children excitedly cheering. “Fiiiiiine….” "You all meet us there and wait for us, ok?" The kids quickly rushed to the area where the candy was stored as Alice chuckled. "The children seem to really like the stories." She said as the trio walked to where Henry and Walter were. Bendy placed his hands behind his back. "Either that or they like the big floofy mutt here." Boris looked at Bendy. "Or they much prefer your bribery." Sammy's voice was ladened with sarcasm as Alice shook her head. "Honestly you two? You're acting worse than the kids." She stated as Henry chuckled at the reactions, a small memory coming back to him, in the early days of the studios. He wiped his eyes as the toons looked at him. “Henry, are you alright?” Alice started as Bendy huffed. “You’re definitely getting old Henry; getting all sentimental ‘n stu-OW!” Bendy glared at Alice as Boris let out a snort and Henry’s chuckling got stronger, which was borderline snorting as Walter coughed lightly, grabbing everyone’s attention before a fight broke out. "Well," Walter interrupted. "You better go help the kids, I don't think they'll wait much longer." "I'll help you guys out," Henry said as he led the way. "Besides, I know the best candy here." "Awesome!" Bendy exclaimed. "Lead the way!" Walter chuckled to himself as he watched the four head over to the children to help out pick out the sweet treats. "You are one interesting man, Henry…that's definitely for sure..."
11386704	Too Close	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by DamnJoon", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "10,648", "Additional Tags": "Casual Sex, Pining, Alternate Universe, Rough Sex, Smut, Shameless Smut, A little shame, Choking, Cum Eating, Anal Sex, Oral, There's a little story I swear I'm not a monster, Jihope Feels, Anxious Jimin, Swag Hoseok, Feminization, just a bit, Hair-pulling, Praise Kink, Jimin calls him Oppa, don't look at me, Professional dancer Jimin, rapper hoseok, Namjoon is Hoseok's manager, Eventual Romance, I promise, Degradation, the best kind, Semi-Public Sex, There's story if you squint, ass eating, jimin is very flexible", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope/Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope & Park Jimin, JiHope", "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 }	He looked up from his seat on the bathroom counter and into those eyes. He took pride in this. That he could inspire the color and sunshine from those eyes, now darkened, dull and hungry. He wasn't the only one, but he could learn to live with anything to be this close.Deep red swirls trailed his fingers.Hoseok returned, thumb now smeared in lipstick and Vaseline, eyes boring deep into Jimin.“Open?”It was asked as a question, but had only one answer.Jimin's breath faltered slightly as he parted his lips.His legs slid apart on pure instinct as Hoseok approached, settling comfortably between Jimin’s thighs.Hoseok hummed, cupping Jimin's cheek. He nuzzled into the palm, wide eyes maintaining contact with the man between his legs.Hoseok's lips split somewhere between a smile and a sneer. The thumb of his free hand reached Jimin's pouting lips, painting them in a sheer scarlet. His handiwork done, Hoseok slowly pushed his thumb past those lips.Jimin's now glossy cherry mouth closed around the thumb diligently. His soft pale cheeks hollowed as he sucked gently, tongue teasing the soft pad of Hoseok's thumb.Hoseok groaned, clenching his jaw. The hand on Jimin's cheek snaked its way from his neck to his back to grip Jimin's ass firmly through his boxers, pulling him toward the edge of the counter until his crotch pressed flush against Hoseok's.“So beautiful.”Jimin looked up at the taller man through his dense black lashes, fisting his short fingers in Hoseok's white oxford shirt and hooking his legs around the thighs of the other man.He lived for the push and pull of Hobi's games and knew just how to push back.Jimin hungrily rolled his hips against Hoseok as the thumb slid from between his lips.“Please, oppa,” Jimin near-whispered, fighting off a smile as Hoseok hesitated for the first time that night, his eyebrows briefly raising in a question— a question answered by two barely-smiling eyes and a tongue teasing the corner of two thick ruby lips.The composure Hoseok lost was replaced with a lust burning so intensely, it vaporized reason on contact.Long fingers tangled in Jimin's hair, snatching his head backward to expose his throat as he began writhing erratically against Hoseok. Blunt teeth pressed painfully to the pulse point as Jimin huffed out high, breathy moans to the cracked plaster ceiling.Giving into the writhing boy, Hoseok rocked his hips forward, the hand on his ass now sliding down the back of his boxers. “Did you prep for oppa, Jiminnie?” Hoseok's voice rumbled against Jimin's neck.Jimin nodded, Hoseok's handhold on his hair eliciting a sharp gasp as the pain pricked behind his fogging eyes.“The plug?”Jimin nodded again, teeth digging into his bottom lip, his cock twitching against the hardened length in Hoseok's black trousers as two thin fingers pressed roughly yet easily into his already lubricated hole.If he had time to think he would have been grateful he'd prepped himself so well before Hoseok came over.Instead, his mind went blank. His painted lips moved soundlessly, his body only allowing ragged gasps to escape.“So good for me, Jiminie,” Hoseok rasped, lips and teeth now roaming across Jimin's bare chest, trailing the seeds of blossoming bruises across his pale skin.“Stand,” Hoseok said, fingers leaving Jimin's body as quickly as they had entered, hand loosing Jimin's shock of silver hair. Jimin's chest heaved, his bleary eyes blinking slowly as he processed Hoseok's words and the devastating distance between their bodies as Hoseok took half a step backward.The moment Jimin's feet hit the cold tile, Hoseok nodded his head toward Jimin's boxers. “Take them off,” he said with another step backward.Sparing all shame, Jimin stripped off his gray boxer-briefs, quickly kicking them aside. Jimin now stood fully naked, hard cock thick and pink against his belly, in front of the still fully clothed Hoseok as they devoured the other with their eyes.Before Jimin came to love Hoseok, he had fallen in love with his body at first sight. He was everything Jimin wasn't— long limbs wrapped in lean muscle, now wrapped frustratingly in a white shirt pushed up to the elbows and slim black pants that grazed his ankles. Jimin shivered as he watched the taller man’s stare.“Fuck,” Hoseok bit his lips on the word, pushing his mess of black hair back from his tall forehead, eyes raking over Jimin's body, “turn around.”Jimin did, now facing the counter, eyes searching out Hoseok’s in the mirror. One hand planted on the faux-marble countertop, Jimin leaned forward slightly, slowly sliding the fingertips of his other hand over his swollen cock, eyes unmoving from Hoseok's.Hoseok reached into his back pocket and placed the foil packet between his blindingly white teeth. He snarled as he watched Jimin in mirror and quickly unbuckled and unzipped his trousers, too hurried to remove them. Pulling his cock from his underwear, he tore into the wrapper and rolled the condom down his length, stroking himself slowly to the sight before him.Hoseok stepped close, cock pressed against Jimin's lower back. Jimin groaned as fingers slid around his hip, one hand slithering up his spine, between his shoulder blades. He rocked the firm swell of his ass slowly back against Hoseok, earning a shove between the shoulders and a viselike grip on his hip.Both Jimin's hands flew to the countertop as Hoseok forcefully bent him over.His whole body erupted in shivers, like orgasmic static as Hoseok returned a hand to the hair at the crown of his head, tugging firmly to raise Jimin's chin.“Look at you,” he licked his lips, now rocking his hips to slide his cock against Jimin's cleft.Jimin's pupils were blown wide, lips both stained and bitten red, soft bright skin flushed beneath a sheen of sweat as he arched against Hoseok. “Needy,” Hoseok murmured, chest pressing to Jimin's back as he leaned to kiss from his neck to his ear, “you gonna tell me what you need like a good boy or what, my pretty Jiminnie?”As much as he loved playing with Hoseok, Jimin had been taken to the end of his patience. He was fucking needy, and when he needed Hoseok, he couldn't play.“You. Your cock… in me… please,” Jimin let out in huffs, eyes still glued to Hoseok's in the mirror, “Hoseok… oppa.”So maybe he wasn't fully done with the game.Hoseok straightened, shuddering, cock twitching in his hand as he lined up with Jimin. “Of course, baby,” he groaned, pushing into Jimin's hole.It was slow yet forceful, painless yet rough, as Hoseok took Jimin's ass to the hilt, guttural sounds escaping from his throat. Jimin took his eyes off Hoseok for the first time as they lolled back in their sockets.It was almost always this good, but somehow each time felt like the first. Jimin felt so full, so whole with Hoseok inside him. If it was physically possible, he would live the rest of his life with that perfect fucking man, penetrated on his perfect fucking cock.Jimin's voice returned to him in a high breathless moan, head thrown back into Hoseok's grip as he bore down. Hoseok turned Jimin's head to the side with a tug on his silver hair and began to slowly rock his hips backward. Withdrawing almost entirely from Jimin, he kissed along his sharp, tensed jawline.“Even when you're loose you're so fucking tight,” Hoseok's deep voice rumbled, kissing the corner of Jimin's gasping scarlet mouth. “My pretty little hole,” he growled, deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue past Jimin's smeared lips, hips snapping forward, his full length back inside Jimin.It was all becoming too much for Jimin as Hoseok built up a rhythm— the tongue writhing against his, the angled thrusts making his knees shake, the hand gripping his hip shifting to his belly to tease his leaking, aching cock.And the fingers twisting in his hair relaxing and creeping down to wrap around his neck.When Hoseok finally broke the kiss, his name escaped Jimin's lips in a high pitched wail, followed by a babbling stream of disjointed moans. Hoseok. Oppa. Please. Shit. Hoseok. Close. Hyung. Fuck. Touch. Oppa. Fuck. Hoseok tightened his fingers around Jimin's neck, not enough to hamper his breathing, but enough to make the boy beneath him shudder and shake. His eyes bore through Jimin's fucked out gaze in the mirror as he picked up the pace of his forceful thrusts.“You gonna come on this cock, pretty boy?” Hoseok huffed behind Jimin's ear.Words failed Jimin, but his eyes went wide, wild and desperate, doing his best to nod as he continued his erratic, breathless moans.“Fuck, your voice,” Hoseok groaned, teasing hand now stroking Jimin's thick little cock, “Cum for me, Jiminnie. I wanna hear my fucking name.”Hoseok didn't have to ask. Nothing could stop him from saying that name.Jimin's body went rigid, leaning into Hoseok's hold on his throat as he came, “Hoseok,” never leaving his lips. Ropes of cum streaked the mirror, the counter, his chest and stomach, and finally over Hoseok's fist.Jimin's arms gave out and he collapsed onto the counter as both Hoseok's hands released him. His hole fluttered and clenched as he continued to writhe, still rolling his hips back against Hoseok's now ragged stuttering thrusts.A hand wound once more into Jimin's hair, guiding his face to a freshly painted stripe of his own cum on the countertop.Jimin pressed a flushed cheek to the counter, looking up at Hoseok over his shoulder through heavy lids as he slid his tongue from between his messily smeared lips to taste the mess he'd just made.“Holy fuck—”Hoseok yanked Jimin back up, held him against his chest and kissed him deeply, tasting cum and sweat and vanilla sugar. Groaning into Jimin's mouth, he came, twitching in Jimin's tight heat.They stood like this for a moment, hands roaming softly over skin as they lingered in the kiss.“Fuck,” Hoseok finally chuckled breathlessly, wide genuine smile, now stained from Jimin's lips, reaching up to his eyes. He pulled out of Jimin slowly, allowing him to turn to face him as he tied off and threw out the condom into the wastebasket.“Yeah,” Jimin beamed, resting his head on Hoseok's shoulder.“Gross!” he suddenly recoiled, “You sweat through your shirt.”“Gross!?” Hoseok burst with a loud cackle and pulled a naked, struggling Jimin into a bear hug, “you just ate your cum off the bathroom counter, Jiminnie. Sometimes gross is good.”Jimin managed to blush even deeper as he continued to push Hoseok away. “Ok ok, I get it!” he giggled musically, playfully slapping at the sweaty chest in front of him.Hoseok released him with a kiss to the top of his head. “I probably should clean up though,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting, causing two deep dimples to form, “You too.” Jimin marveled that the man who had just choke-fucked him in the bathroom could be so goddamned adorable.“Shower?” Hoseok added, cocking a brow in an obvious invitation.Jimin smiled, fingers already working on the buttons of Hoseok's damp shirt.“Yeah.” — These were the moments Jimin hated the most.He loved almost nothing more than the feeling of Hoseok's arms around his middle, chin resting on Jimin's shoulder, hair damp and smelling of his own lavender shampoo. He loved Hoseok's restless legs, always managing to pull Jimin closer than he ever pushed him away, deepening the tangle of limbs as he drifted to sleep. He felt so vulnerable wrapped up in Hoseok and yet completely fucking invincible.But it was the pit of dread in his belly, roiling and infinite, that he could hardly bear. Before each meeting with Hoseok, there was at least one moment when Jimin considered calling it quits. He knew Hoseok would never fill that bottomless pit inside him. But resistance was ultimately futile.Nobody had ever made Jimin feel the way Hoseok made him feel, and giving that up… He could endure it.Jimin's fingers slid over the strong slender hands linked around his waist. It took Jimin forever to fall asleep when they were together. He knew once he closed his eyes for the night, when they opened again, Hoseok would be gone.He should be grateful that Hoseok always stayed in his bed this long. He only ever came to Busan when he was touring, which meant he had to be up early the next day for the next schedule. But it wasn't enough— even though it had to be.Jimin closed his eyes, breathing deeply, resigning himself to his fate. He concentrated on the heavy rise and fall of Hoseok's bare chest against his back, the warm puffs of air against his scalp as Hoseok pulled him closer.Tomorrow J-Hope would be whisked away in a some SUV, to some radio station, to some venue, to some club, to some Daegu girl’s bed.But in that moment, Jimin was held by the man he loved. It had to be enough. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Jimin's phone rattled loudly on the hardwood.He'd kept it silent for the last week or so. When he felt this shitty, sometimes he'd rather be alone than pretend to be chipper. The phone continued its vibrating. Everyone knew Jimin didn't answer phone calls. Who would even be calling at this hour. More than likely...Parents. Jimin refocused on the music, locking back into the choreography he'd been working on. He figured his mom could wait until he finished practice. He hadn't even made it to the end of the track before the loud rattling started again. One call was odd, but two in a row?It probably wasn't an emergency, but Jimin's mind had a penchant for worst case scenarios. If precedent had anything to say about it, it was probably his mom asking if his little brother was staying at Jimin's that night. He would lie and say yes and that would be that. But he wanted to be sure.His body slowed to a halt, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Pausing the music on his tablet on the way, he fetched his phone just in time for the vibrating to stop. 2 missed calls. Unlocking his phone, Jimin's eyes went wide. He could feel his pulse thick and heavy at the base of his throat. “Fuck.”Mom 8:24Pony 8:22Before he could even think of what he would want or what he might say, Jimin was returning his call. “Hello?”“Hey Jimin-ah.”Fuck he sounded good on the phone. Hoseok's voice had a slight rasp naturally, but it was made much more intense by the loss in quality. And it seemed so close. Jimin somehow managed to swallow as he spoke, letting out a strangled “-hey!”Hoseok laughed quietly and Jimin couldn't help but imagine the smile that accompanied it. “You doing ok?” Hoseok asked, sounding both amused and concerned. “Yeah,” Jimin replied, heart now racing faster from excitement than from his intense practice, “I was just, uh, practicing.”“Oh shit, I'm sorry Jimin-ah. Just text me when you're done and I'll tell you about it. No rush!” “Oh, uh, no,” Jimin stammered, still catching his breath, “I was just wrapping up when you called. I'm free now.” Jimin was an okay liar. “So, what's going on?” he asked quickly before Hoseok tried again to be too polite for Jimin's liking. “I was just wondering if you were free Friday after next.”“Yeah,” Jimin replied after a moment, thinking through his next couple of weeks. He usually went out with Jungkook on Fridays, doing his best to wingman and/or nanny the drunk baby hulk, but he blew him off last week, he could certainly do it again. “If you keep coming to Busan this often, I’ll have to make you a key,” Jimin added with a bright laugh, trying to act as if there was something else in the universe he could want more than that. He knew better than to sound this desperate, but fuck if he could help it. Hoseok chuckled, “Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come up to Seoul.” Jimin stilled completely, unsure what to say or do or think. “I'm playing a pretty big room— bigger than I've ever played before— and it just sold out,” Hoseok continued, “I'd like it if you came.”Jimin stared blankly at his feet as if he had written lines of dialogue on the tops of his sneakers. He had met Hoseok in a walk-in closet of a bar in Nampo-dong little more than a year ago. Since that night, when Hoseok passed through Busan, he passed through Jimin's apartment. If he wasn't touring, Jimin simply didn't hear from him. Nor did he have the gumption to reach out to the kinda famous rapper that turned his heart to gelatin and his cock to granite when he wanted a little attention. But now that kinda famous rapper was calling him, inviting him not only to come to one of his shows for the first time, but to visit him in Seoul. In spite of how much it annoyed him, Hoseok liked referring to Jimin (or when he was feeling next-level oily, Jimin's ass) as his “Busan Station.” But this was like the station traveling to the train. And it was sort of breaking Jimin's brain. The line stayed dead for a moment as Jimin malfunctioned. “Uh, I’ll obviously get you a pass…” Hoseok continued on, unsure what to do with Jimin's silence, “I kind of wanted to celebrate… aaaaaand… Jimin?”“Yes!” Jimin couldn't quite hide the alarm in his voice as he shook himself from his brief coma, “yeah, that sounds very super good.” Jimin cringed— very super good?“Alright,” Jimin could hear Hoseok smiling again, “I know it's far, but I'll make it worth your while.”“Sounds good,” Jimin nearly coughed, unsure whether or not Hoseok was trying to kill him. “I’ll text you the details. Joonie will hook you up. See you at the show?”“See you then.”Jimin ended the call, throwing his phone onto his gym bag like he'd just realized he'd answered a call on a live cobra. Waiting for his breathing to return to normal, he grabbed his water bottle and drank until liquid spilled from the corners of his lips. He was really thirsty. — Jimin pulled the collar of his white shearling coat up past his chin, hot breath warming his freezing nose as he dragged his feet through the grayish slush in the alley toward the back of the theater. He briefly questioned why he'd worn his slashed black jeans on the coldest night of the year so far. But he knew how these jeans made his thighs look, so fuck it, right?The hand shoved deep in his coat pocket nervously toyed with the laminated card and lanyard Hoseok's manager had sent. He'd been checking his pockets for it basically every minute like clockwork since he'd left his apartment. It's not that he was worried he wouldn't be let in if he lost it, he just guiltily relished the little swell of pride the badge gave him. A dim incandescent bulb lit a door near the end of the alley. Jimin approached a man with a black mask tucked under his chin in heavy duffel coat who sat in a folding chair beside the door smoking a cigarette. “Am I in the right place?” Jimin asked, producing the orange badge from his wooly pockets and extending it toward the man. “Name?” the man replied, eyes looking up at Jimin over a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. He crossed his spindly legs as he glanced up at the boy in front of him. “Park Jimin.”He stubbed out his cigarette and pulled his mask up over his mouth, but Jimin could swear he saw the man’s eyes smile as he nodded toward the door behind him. Jimin bowed slightly, returning slightly awkward silence with very awkward silence as he turned to enter the hall. The noise rushing through the open door was a little overwhelming, but Jimin could swear he heard the word, “-cute,” as the door closed behind him. He had been backstage in theaters and performance halls countless times as a dancer, but this was a little out of his comfort zone. The lights were dim and bass rumbled through him as if his body weren't there at all, almost drowning out the dozens of voices in the backstage area shouting to compete with the volume. The air hung hazy and warm around him, slowly defrosting his body. Jimin unbuttoned his coat and hung his badge around his neck as he began to poke around. He didn't really know what to do other than look for Hoseok, but he also didn't really want to get in the way while he was preparing for the show. As he wandered, nodding nervously to the people rushing around him and the few lounging guests who caught his eye, he passed a large metal tub filled with ice and bottles. He grabbed a beer to nurse, giving himself something to do with his hands as he continued scanning for a spot where he could feel a little more out of everyone's way. Jimin had never had stage fright in his life, but this was a stage of a different kind. He could hurl his body through the air and live on the stage for hundreds of attentive eyes, but put him in a room full of strangers with nothing to do but talk and he'd lose his way. And the added layers of anxiety about Hoseok didn't help. He slid over to a short hallway off the side of the main open room. As he leaned against the wall, pulling out his phone to pretend to be busy, he glanced at the doorway across the hall from where he stood. A bright warm light streamed from the room into the hallway, cutting through the smoke and darkness. Curious, Jimin leaned to one side, cocking his head so he could just see inside. All he saw was a broad back and a sharp pair of eyes catching his in the mirror. Jackpot. “Yah! Jimin-ah!”Hoseok turned around and stepped into the doorframe, causing Jimin to nearly fall sideways into his awkward lean. “Hey!” he laughed, a little embarrassed but mostly thrilled to find Hoseok. Hoseok's smile glowed brighter than the blinding vanity lights behind him as he grabbed Jimin's wrist and pulled him into the room. Hoseok's hands guided Jimin's arms around his waist so he could pull the door to behind them without leaving the doorway. Once it clicked shut, Hoseok backed Jimin up against the door, top teeth gleaming as he bit his bottom lip in a frankly rude smile. “I'm glad you came.”As always, any nervousness he'd had about seeing Hoseok vanished when they touched. The warmth radiating from his body softened to melting all his fears about the night. Jimin couldn't wipe the smile from his face as he stared wide-eyed at the gorgeous man in front of him. “Me too,” Jimin ran one hand up the back of Hoseok's supple black leather jacket— the other hand still holding the beer he'd meant to set down before Hoseok abducted him— as he took in the sight before him. A navy button-up patterned with red and white was half-tucked into the front of a pair of dark wash jeans that Hoseok or whoever dressed him must have literally melted his body down and poured him into. The denim hugged his long lean thighs and strong calves like opaque cellophane, already making Jimin sweat before they stopped above a pair of scuffed black combat boots. His dark undercut was swept up under a black beanie, and he was wearing a little eyeliner, and probably lip balm his lips looked so soft, and fuck, Jimin needed an ambulance. “You look amazing,” Jimin smiled, eyes returning to Hoseok's.“I look how I always look, Jiminnie,” Hoseok's hands slid under the wooly white coat to rest on Jimin's hips, “my makeup’s just not melted off yet.”Jimin sighed, “Take the compliment, hyung,” as he stood on his toes, kissing Hoseok softly below his ear. “Save your compliments, Jimin-ah,” Hoseok nuzzled his face into Jimin's silvery hair. “The night is young. You'll have much better reasons to stroke my ego later,” Hoseok roughly pulled Jimin's hips against his, nearly knocking him off his toes again. Jimin lolled his head back against the door, still-smiling mouth emitting soft moans as Hoseok slid a thigh between Jimin's. “You look gorgeous too, by the way,” Hoseok ran a hand across one of Jimin's flushing cheeks, beginning to slowly rock his hips. “So cute in this fluffy coat,” his hand slid down the side of Jimin's neck, pushing the collar of his coat from his shoulder, kissing along Jimin's exposed collarbone, “so fucking hot under it though.”Jimin's hips rolled against Hoseok's thigh of their own volition, now-hardening cock desperate for friction and addled mind desperate for Hoseok in general. It was all escalating so fast, yet par for the course for the two of them. Hoseok tugged gently at the ribbon around Jimin's throat, untying the loose knot securing his white silk shirt’s collar, and continuing his trail of kisses across the warm flesh of Jimin's chest. The back of Jimin's hand flew up to his mouth, muffling a deep groan as Hoseok slipped further down his chest, hands sliding over his waist through the thin fabric of his shirt as he sunk to his knees.Hoseok's dark eyes glared up into Jimin's as his hands wandered ceaselessly across his abdomen, his hips, his thighs. He slid the hem of Jimin's shirt up slightly, moving to press scorching, wet kisses to the pale strip of flesh just above his waistband. Jimin could feel lips smiling against his skin. Shoulder blades pressed back against the door, Jimin gasped into the sleeve of his coat, hips canting forward as Hoseok gently palmed his crotch with one hand, and deftly unbuttoned Jimin's fly with the other. His mouth followed his hand and Jimin could feel the dull humid heat of Hoseok's breath and scorching tongue through the denim. Hoseok finally broke the torturous eye contact as he began to tug at Jimin's zipper. “Yah! Hobi! You got like 5, man!”Jimin's soul left his body as a series of loud knocks to the door behind his head accompanied the deep-voiced man’s shouting. Hoseok hopped to his feet, smirking at Jimin as he watched his small hands scurry across his body to make himself decent. The taller man simply shoved his hand in his jeans, adjusting himself before he shrugged his jacket straight & turned the knob, swinging the door out from behind where Jimin stood. “Enjoy the show,” Hoseok grinned to the still shaken Jimin as he slipped past. And with a jovial pat on his shoulder, Hoseok vanished as quickly as he'd appeared. Jimin stood stock still in the doorway, bleary eyes attempting to focus on Hoseok's retreating back. “Uh, hey,” the deep voice that had just crushed his dreams called out to Jimin softly. A tall man stood in the hallway, black mask now hanging around his long neck, duffel coat slung over his arm. “Kim Namjoon,” the man's eyes smiled behind his glasses, pulling two cavernous dimples into his cheeks, “Hobi’s manager,” he added, extending a hand to Jimin. Jimin finally locked eyes with the taller man as Hoseok left his field of view, dipping his head slightly and returning the handshake with a sweaty palm. This guy seemed pretty relaxed. Maybe he didn't realize Jimin was about to have his dick sucked by J-Hope about five feet away about five seconds ago. Jimin tried his best to compose himself. “Park Jimin,” he replied, pressing his lips together in a thin smile. “I know,” Namjoon nodded as Jimin furrowed his brow slightly, “I let you in earlier.”“Right,” Jimin chuckled, finally releasing the hand that he'd just realized he'd been shaking for a little too long. “Well it’s good to meet you. Thanks for this,” Jimin flicked the pass hanging around his neck, taking a swig of the beer that he was now thankful he was still holding.“No problem. Glad to finally put a face to the name,” Namjoon lifted his cap, raking his hair backward before replacing it, grinning. “I've heard a lot about you,” he added, cocking an eyebrow slightly. Jimin choked on a sip of room temperature beer. Before he had time to decide whether he wanted to waterboard Hoseok's manager for information or simply just die, someone cut the music playing through the theater. Bass, much more intense than before, throbbed in Jimin's chest as the intro to J-Hope’s new track started, preventing Jimin's heart from slowing. “Cmon!” Namjoon shouted over the bass, leaning in toward Jimin, “He's going up. I'll take you to a good spot!”He led Jimin to the side of the stage, giving them full view of both the stage and the house. Jimin knew this venue was pretty big from the looks of the exterior, and he knew how excited Hoseok was to have sold out this place, but he was still floored. Probably more than a thousand bodies were packed into a screaming, chanting mass. The crowd moved as one to the overwhelming rumble of the bass, exploding in a sea of ear-splitting screams as Hoseok appeared, bathed in deep blue light. Jimin had been a low key fan of J-Hope’s music before they met, and an even lower key fan since they started seeing each other, but seeing him perform was next level. The Hoseok Jimin knew was already perfect in his eyes— a confident-to-a-fault and positive goof who fucked like a runaway train— but onstage, Hoseok just glowed. It wasn't just the usual glow of his smile or his smooth skin or his ebullience or anything like that. When Hoseok became J-Hope on that stage, he looked like royalty. He leaned in so aggressively in his delivery but then sat back in the pocket, constantly subverting his expectations. He swaggered across the stage, spitting lighter fluid on tracks that were already fire, forcing hands and glow sticks and screams into the air. But then he'd smile, devastating hundreds of lives. He played hot and cold with his audience, wrapping them around his finger like it was nothing, and Jimin was right there with them. Jimin would have been struck down by all that shine if he could stop dancing, but J-Hope made sure that would not happen. — After Hoseok's second encore, Jimin finally dragged himself backstage, sweaty and a little worn out from dancing for the last hour or so. Jimin straddled the arm of one of the threadbare sofas, drained, but body still buzzing with energy. He chattered excitedly to an increasingly drunk Namjoon as they waited for Hoseok. He stopped abruptly in the middle of some answer to some question about his dance company, eyes and attention straying from the conversation. Jimin could never miss Hoseok. He’d scrubbed his face clean and removed his hat, hair black and wild and still shining with sweat, and Jimin was stunned as always that he managed to make such a handsome mess. His gaze followed Hoseok as he wound his way through the room, smiling and hugging and shaking hands, chatting with his friends, thanking staff. Namjoon noticed Jimin's shift in attention, craning his neck to see what had caught his eye, and immediately checking Hoseok. “Oh man the heart eyes are so real,” Namjoon groaned in the manner of someone about to watch a cyclist hit an open car door, grabbing Jimin's attention again. “Huh?” Jimin tilted his head at Namjoon, still looking a little dazed. “Nothing,” Namjoon smiled kindly, “Just good luck with this dork.”A familiar warmth appeared beside Jimin, its hand resting on his lower back. “Have a good time?” Hoseok stood at Jimin's side, nodding at him and Namjoon.Jimin was still pretty speechless, but gave an expression that said, “Of course I did, how could I not, you were an actual prince on that stage, you fucking animal!”“You looked like you were into it,” Hoseok gulped from his water bottle, “I saw you dancing… like, damn!” “Thanks,” Jimin spat out, slightly taken aback, but still grinning ear to ear, “I couldn't help myself. You were amazing! I didn't know you could dance like that.”“I may not have the thick thighs to show for it,” Hoseok replied, obviously eyeing Jimin's legs in those goddamn jeans, “but I can hold my own. I actually started out as a dancer.”“You're kidding!” Jimin beamed up at Hoseok, somehow managing to fall even harder for him, “It makes so much sense though. You hold yourself like a dancer.”Hoseok bent down slightly, catching Jimin off guard with a soft kiss. Tension slotted its fingers through Jimin's spine. Hoseok was being so fucking affectionate tonight. He always showered him with attention when they were in the same place, but never in public like this. Not that they had been in public together since the night they met. Jimin's mind spun as he tried to relax against Hoseok's soft lips. The kiss was slow and sweet but only lasted a moment before Hoseok righted himself. “Sorry, I've just been wanting to do that for hours.”“Ok, I'm just gonna… go,” Namjoon interjected, twisting the cap off another bottle with a hiss, “I'm not really into the whole voyeur thing.”Hoseok cackled as Namjoon turned to leave, starting to down another beer, “Hey, give my love to everyone at the bar. I don't think we're gonna make it.” “Obviously,” Namjoon nodded, quirking up a corner of his mouth as Jimin squirmed. “And take a cab tonight, Joonie,” Hoseok added, tugging on Namjoon’s shirt before he was out of reach, “Jin will murder you if you die.” Namjoon’s dimples disappeared as he rolled his eyes, grumbling and pulling out his phone as he stalked off. Hoseok turned back to Jimin,“So, what do you say? Wanna get out of here?”Jimin pulled away slightly, scrunching up his nose in a grimace, “So greasy…”“I'll take that as a yes.” — “By the way, thanks for leaving me half-mast in front of your manager.”The two exited the venue through the alley, Jimin sinking into his massive wooly coat and Hoseok with a thick scarf looped around his shoulders up to his nose, now turning pink in the cold. Hoseok lived close by so he suggested they walk.“You're welcome,” Hoseok grinned, planting a kiss on the crown of Jimin's head through his heavy scarf. “Sorry if that was too much, but if it makes you feel better, we’re roommates, so he's kind of used to me.”“It’s alright,” Jimin's face flushed, “I actually kind of… didn't mind.” Hoseok slipped a hand around Jimin's waist, pulling him closer as they walked. “I didn't think you would. You're a creep like me,” Hoseok laughed, making Jimin roll his eyes, but his smile seemed sweet somehow. “We've got the place to ourselves tonight though, if you're worried about it being awkward. Or loud,” he added with a pinch to Jimin's hip. Jimin giggled trying to twist from Hoseok's arms, but was ultimately pulled back in. “It was good to meet him though,” Jimin said, quickened breath fogging in the cold, “He seems like a good guy.” Hoseok nodded, “He really is. We’re the same age, but he's always supported me like a big brother. Patience of a monk, too.” “I think he'd have to to live with you.”“Hey! I'm a great roommate! I'm clean, I'm quiet,” Jimin snorted at that one, “Cmon, I’m great to live with. Shitty in the kitchen, but I make up for it with general ambiance!”Jimin laughed airily, breath steaming in the cold, “Oh, is Namjoon a good cook?” It was Hoseok's turn to snort, “If you like overcooked toast and undercooked pork.”“What a shame. I love a man who can cook,” Jimin made doe eyes up at Hoseok.“Ouch!” Hoseok exclaimed, holding his hand to his heart before joining Jimin in laughter again. “Sorry to burst your bubble about Joonie. He can't boil an egg to save his life and he's got a boyfriend. A boyfriend who knows what he's doing with a chef’s knife. So watch out, Jiminnie.”Jimin pouted, scuffing a shoe against the sidewalk, “Oh well, he's not even gonna be there tonight so I guess I'm stuck with you anyway.”“Poor Jiminnie,” Hoseok pulled Jimin's head to his chest, stroking his hair as he stared melodramatically into the distance, “deprived of grade-A man-meat, he's had to settle for these table scraps!”Jimin stumbled slightly, struggling to walk forward bent at the waist and essentially in a headlock and struggling to breathe through the laughter. Jimin wrapped his arms tight around Hoseok's middle, warming his frozen cheek against his chest, “You’re an idiot.”—“This is us,” Hoseok stopped at the door of a modest four-story apartment building. The building seemed quite small for apartments at first, but once inside, it became clear there was one large apartment per floor, Namjoon and Hoseok sharing the fourth. It was a large, open space with high ceilings and obviously refinished floors, but was sparsely furnished and decorated.“I thought you guys were gay,” Jimin teased, following Hoseok in removing his shoes and coat. By the time he'd tucked his socks into his little white boots, Hoseok had retreated into the dimly lit kitchen area.“What made you think I'm gay?” Hoseok ducked into the refrigerator. “Well, you seem to like putting your dick in me, but not one throw pillow? I'm starting to have my doubts.”“Wait, you're a guy?” Hoseok tried to feign shock, holding a bottle of champagne and fishing a butter knife from a silverware drawer. “Jokes, obviously. But it doesn’t matter to me either way...”Jimin just scowled, rolling his eyes as he perched himself on a plain wooden barstool opposite Hoseok at the stone topped kitchen island. A warm smile took over Hoseok's face as he tossed his black wool hat on the countertop, rifling through his hair before he got to work at the cork of the bottle, “Joonie’s boyfriend gave us a plant!” he said enthusiastically as he angled the neck of the bottle toward a wilting ficus, “I think Mickey really brightens up the place!” Jimin couldn't keep scowling at someone who names a dead ficus something like Mickey. “I've just never really had the sense or the time for decorating,” he continued, scrunching his nose as he pressed the flat of the knife to the cork with some force. “Also, I'm not gay. I just like what I like. And tonight, you're what I like.”Just for tonight. Jimin's nerves being tattered as they were, he couldn't help but spiral, high hopes caught only by the safety net of low expectations. The last few hours had been so intense for him, it would have been easy to forget how casual this was supposed to be. Hoseok had been so tactile, so sweet on him, his heart felt safe to shudder and melt. He had to do his damnedest to pull himself together. “Yeah, fair enoug—ah!” Jimin flinched, jumping at the sound of the popping cork that whizzed past his head over to the living room. “Cute!” Hoseok reached out to briefly cup Jimin's cheek as he cackled at the startled boy across from him. “To more nights like this,” he raised the bottle in the air before taking a single deep swig straight from the bottle. Jimin watched intently as Hoseok tilted his head back, stretching his long neck, laser-cut jawline prominent, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the wine. Wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, he extended the bottle to Jimin who accepted it eagerly. He had been low key (and at times high fucking key) turned on all night, miserably head over heels for months, and was now alone in the apartment of the man responsible for all that torture. He could use a drink or five. “To J-Hope,” he gave a pursed-lip smile before lifting the bottle to his lips, squeezing his eyes shut as he took one, two, three, four deep pulls, stopping as the bubbles began to tickle his nose. When he opened his eyes, all he could see was that familiar, predatory gaze, eyebrows raised, tongue sliding along the top row of pearly teeth. “It's like every time I blink, when I open my eyes, I see you for the first time,” Hoseok walked from behind the counter toward Jimin, now shifting in his seat, “and I'll be fucked if you aren't the hottest thing I've ever seen, every damn time.”Jimin cheeks neck and chest burst in fiery pink, partly from the wine, but mostly from Hoseok's eyes as they bore down on him. Unsure of how to reply to such an intense compliment, he chose instead to swallow another dizzying mouthful of champagne. Hoseok now stood between Jimin's thighs, long fingers beginning to slowly slide over the smooth pinking planes of his face. “Mind if I pick up where I left off?” Hoseok's warm breath hung at Jimin's ear, causing his spine to stiffen as he planted a soft kiss on his earlobe, “I've been waiting all night for a taste of my Jiminnie.”Jimin groaned softly as he felt a hand slide to its rudely interrupted position over the crotch of his jeans. His knees slid further apart to accommodate Hoseok as he slid to the floor, magic fingers somehow managing to undo the collar of his shirt again without him noticing. All doubts were damned as he watched Hoseok quickly pop the button and zip down the fly of his jeans. There was no turning back now. Of course there obviously was, but Jimin wanted nothing more than to give himself to this beautiful man. “Ooh!” he smiled, quirking up an eyebrow and clicked his tongue, “dirty boy.” He tugged at the waistband of Jimin's jeans, causing him to shift his weight allowing Hoseok to shimmy the tight denim down mid-thigh, “No underwear. For me, Jiminnie?”Jimin gulped and nodded, knowing questions like this from Hoseok weren't rhetorical, eyes looking anywhere but between his legs. “So thoughtful,” Hoseok wrapped his fingers around Jimin's thickening cock, eliciting an audible shudder from the younger, “letting me get to this pretty little cock so quick.” Jimin's cock wasn't long but it was thick. It suited him, he'd been told. And although he had his moments of insecurity about his size— and not just below the belt— he loved that Hoseok found it enticing to the point that his perfectly formed lips bowed into a smile as he placed soft, reverent kisses along his shaft. And he loved even more the sight of those large hands, long fingers masculine yet delicate, wrapped around his girth. His hand pumped achingly slowly as he dragged the tip of his tongue over the already leaking pink slit. “Sweet boy,” he murmured, licking his shining heart-shaped lips before closing them around Jimin's cock. The sudden heat and suction caused Jimin to arch his back, thrusting his hips forward, involuntarily pushing deeper. He quickly snapped his eyes to Hoseok's, finding him completely unfazed, working his lips closer and closer to the base, hands grasping Jimin's firm thighs. Jimin squirmed in his seat as Hoseok arrived, eyes dark and laser focused on Jimin's, high cheeks hollowed, soft lips tight around the base of his cock, wet hot tongue zig-zagging across the underside until it slipped from his mouth and licked like liquid flame at Jimin's ballsac. Jimin fought the losing battle for catching his breath as he slid his fingers through Hoseok's hair, not for control of Hoseok, but for control of himself. “Oh my god, Hoseok,” he found himself repeating, closing his eyes again in actual prayer as Hoseok began to bob his head slowly, tongue swirling and teasing as he moved.Jimin's soft yet wiry body drew taut, quaking, teetering on the edge of the barstool, dangling feet not quite reaching the floor, the pale hand twisting in Hoseok's inky hair his only point of stability. Though Jimin's cock didn't quite reach the back of Hoseok's throat, when he swallowed he felt his soul being pulled from his body with the hot wet suction. That soul plummeted back to this mortal coil with an obscene slick pop and the sudden absence of Hoseok's mouth. “Open your eyes,” Jimin felt the hot breath against his shining slippery cock as Hoseok spoke, hand now squeezing firmly at the base. Jimin heard an uncontrollable whine push though his vocal cords as he shuddered, opening his eyes with his head still turned away. When Hoseok demanded something of him, he couldn't help but comply, no matter how punch-drunk Hoseok had him. Hoseok's free hand now cradled Jimin's smooth balls, massaging gently against his palm, “Good boy,” he smiled breathlessly. Jimin's hips still stuttered in a desperate attempt to pump up into Hoseok's closed fist. He leaned forward to press open mouthed kisses to Jimin's hip bones, muffling a low chuckle. “I've wanted a taste of your cum all day baby,” he murmured against the skin of Jimin's flexing, twitching abdomen, “but I've wanted a taste of that gorgeous ass my whole life.” Hoseok lifted his head, hands now gripping Jimin's hips, pulling him forward off the barstool and turning him around on his feet. Hoseok promptly shoved the black denim hugging Jimin's thighs down to his knees. Jimin swallowed, missing yet another breath he'd meant to catch. His cock twitched, wet and heavy against his belly as he bent forward to hold onto the barstool. Head foggy and bloodless, he miscalculated his grasp, nearly stumbling forward, but instead agilely catching himself, palms flat on the floor between his feet. Bless his flexibility. “Fuuuck,” he heard Hoseok groan animalistically as he felt fingers kneading deeply into his asscheek once, twice, then a sharp slap that nearly knocked Jimin forward. “You're ok, yeah?” Hoseok kissed the cheek he'd just slapped, hot lips and tongue soothing the sting. “Hmmmm,” Jimin whined his approval, words be fucked. Bent fully in half at the waist, Jimin peered through his own legs, watching Hoseok's free hand palming roughly at the crotch of his jeans as he shifted on his knees behind him. “Jesus Christ, Jiminnie, can you stay just like that for me baby?” Jimin closed his eyes at the dizzying voice, nodding his head. “So good for me.”Luckily for the both of them, Jimin was crazy limber and he'd been put in more uncomfortable positions for worse dick. And any discomfort he felt in the backs of his thighs disappeared the moment Hoseok's searingly hot tongue dragged over Jimin's hole. Jimin's straining thighs quivered in Hoseok's grasp as he felt a glob of hot saliva sliding down the cleft of his ass, encouraged downward by a single finger which entered him abruptly, yet inched in slowly. Hoseok's profane tongue quickly returned, lapping and probing at the ring of muscle now clenching around his second knuckle. Now relaxing around his digit and encouraged by copious amounts of saliva, Hoseok worked his index finger in alongside his middle. Jimin's voice was now escaping him in fits and starts, high and breathy as he rolled his hips back against the welcome intrusion as best he could. Just as he was about to speak, he felt humid breath followed by the flat of Hoseok's tongue as he licked and sucked a scorching trail from the underside of his cock, taking its time with his balls, only to return to the loosening rim of his hole. “HAaaaaa-!” Jimin nearly screamed, rocking forward onto the balls of his feet, distributing his weight on his palms. The lips and tongue and long teasing fingers were becoming too much, Hoseok only grounding him with a secure hand gripping his hip. “Please,” Jimin finally spat out between quickening breaths, “please, so close…”“Hmm,” Hoseok hummed in approval, mouth not quite ready to leave Jimin's puffy wet hole. The hand on his hip slid forward, grip engulfing Jimin's dripping cock. As he began to slowly pump, Hoseok pressed his ring finger in. “Cum for me baby,” Hoseok growled against Jimin's tail bone, voice barely loud enough to be heard over the wails now filling the apartment. Both of Hoseok's hands quickened, as he watched Jimin tremble and moan before him. Jimin's breathy voice went suddenly guttural as he came twitching in Hoseok's grip, cum spattering his own chest and torso, dripping down to his chin. “Angel,” Hoseok moaned softly, hands and fingers stroking him through his blinding orgasm. He pulled his fingers from Jimin as he felt his knees begin to shake, strong arms wrapping his middle and helping him to unsteady feet. He held Jimin, dazed and glassy-eyed, to his chest, stroking his back as he caught his breath. “That was…” Jimin started as Hoseok walked him over to the sofa, letting his legs give out safely into the overstuffed cushions. “…amazing,” he settled on an adjective, lazily kicking his jeans off the rest of the way. “You were amazing, sweetheart,” Hoseok stood before him and beamed down, hands sliding through Jimin's hair. Without warning, Jimin's hands flew to Hoseok's belt, short fingers fumbling but capable. “Wait,” Hoseok placed his hands on Jimin's forearms arms but they were quickly shrugged off. “No,” Jimin turned his gaze upward, irises dark and pupils blown wide. His white silk shirt flowed off his shoulder, exposing his throat and clavicle, draping down to the tops of his milky thighs, thin fabric failing at concealing his not-yet-fully-soft dick. He watched Hoseok's eyes eat him alive as he pulled the leather through the belt buckle. “I need you now, Hoseok.”Jimin flinched at how quickly Hoseok snatched both his wrists in his hands, voice rumbling in the back of his throat. “Patience, Jimin-ah,” Hoseok smiled warmly, fingers tightening around his bony wrists, making Jimin wonder how someone could make joy seem so intimidating. “If you think I'm not going to fuck that perfect ass tonight, you've never been more wrong,” Jimin felt his recently spent cock twitch against his thigh, “Give me sixty seconds, Park Jimin. Unless you want me to fuck you dry.”Jimin released Hoseok's belt, eyebrows raised and palms turned up in surrender. Hoseok released Jimin's wrists, pulling his unbuckled belt from its loops and throwing it to the floor as he retreated to what Jimin guessed was a bedroom. “Keep that shirt on,” Hoseok called back over his shoulder, “I like that shirt.”Jimin was still squirming in his spot when Hoseok returned. Hearing the footsteps behind him, Jimin called out, “That was way more than a min—! He was left with an open, suddenly dry mouth as Hoseok stepped around the side of the couch into view. His unbelted black jeans were now unbuttoned, hanging low around his hips, faint treasure trail disappearing into the wide v of his fly. Though Jimin had been kind of looking forward to peeling the button-up from that sweaty torso, he would settle for the already-shirtless demigod standing before him. A towel was slung over one of his broad shoulders, fluffy white terry cloth contrasting his shining golden apricot skin even in the dim light of the apartment. Jimin's hands snapped magnetically to Hoseok's waist on instinct, needing to feel with his fingers and palms the sight that widened his eyes into glossy black discs. Jimin needed to touch what he could hardly believe he could see— the deep shadows of Hoseok's clavicle and the faint shadows of his ribs, the prominence of his hips, the fine lean muscles of his torso twisting under the smooth tanned skin in patterns that were image-burned to his retinas and memory.Hoseok's eyes crinkled as he watched Jimin's eat him alive, small hands hungrily roving over his skin. He threw the towel, a condom and small bottle of lube on the couch beside the half naked boy, crooking a finger for Jimin to stand. Jimin had never answered a command so quickly, hopping to his feet, hands still on Hoseok, face turned up and lips bitten pink and parted softly. Hoseok slipped a hand under his chin, pulling him into a kiss as he slid a hand to the back of Jimin's thigh, pulling it up to wrap around his waist. “Hold on,” he mumbled against parting plush lips. Jimin wrapped his arms eagerly around Hoseok's neck as his other leg was swept from the floor. Hoseok turned on the spot, reversing their positions and flopping back on the sofa with Jimin now straddling his lap, still licking desperately into his mouth. Hoseok pulled back, smiling as he caught both his breath and two handfuls of Jimin's firm ass. Jimin tossed back his pale hair, rolling his head back as he felt a long finger slip back inside his loosened hole. He rolled his hips down on the familiar hands and the barely concealed, very hard cock beneath him. The hand not penetrating Jimin grasped the bottle of lube. Hoseok poured a generous amount down Jimin's cleft, slicking his fingers as he switched from one to three, compelling Jimin's body to quake in his lap. He pulled him close, open mouth savoring the mingling of sweat and cum staining the wide swath of Jimin's chest and collarbone framed in white silk. Jimin groaned, hands sliding down Hoseok's waist to hook on the belt loops of the frustratingly intact denim. “Please Hoseok,” Jimin whined in unguarded desperation, “I need it… I need you, please.”“What do you need baby?” Hoseok growled into his neck, starting to lose his own composure as he ground his hips upward and spread his fingers in concert eliciting a long wail from Jimin. “Your cock… raw… please… your cum, god, please, everything. God… fuck me, Hoseok, I need it…” Jimin could only faintly hear the words that spilled mindlessly from his lips and if he had any shame left he would have certainly felt it. Hoseok clenched his jaw, extracting his fingers to lift Jimin's hips, “Raw baby? You're sure?” he hissed through his teeth.Jimin rocked forward to sit on his knees, hovering over Hoseok's hips and pressing his fully hard cock between them. “Yes, NOW!” he nearly shouted, blunt fingernails digging into Hoseok's bare shoulders as he clung to him. “Fuck, baby,” Hoseok groaned, pushing his jeans down his thighs and forcefully pushing Jimin back into his lap. Jimin instantly reached behind him, hand finally grasping Hoseok's thick hard dick, and aligning himself on its tip, he bore down. Jimin's eyes closed as he sunk down on Hoseok's length, so long he felt like he might burst before he bottomed out. Hoseok's mouth hung open, deep guttural noises reverberating in his chest as he watched Jimin move so wantonly as his walls clutched him so tightly. Jimin didn't have the patience to savor the sensation as his ass finally made contact with the tops of Hoseok's thighs, as he began snap his hips forward and back, grinding down into Hoseok's lap, desperately chasing Hoseok's release as much as he chased his own. “Jesus!” Hoseok nearly choked, hands on Jimin's hips lifting him once again for the opportunity to thrust up into the maddening heat. Jimin heard his own yelp before he realized he'd been thrown onto his back. Hoseok now hovered above him, eyes glazed like a dog thrown a freshly butchered steak. His thrusts were relentless, never flagging as they built and built in speed and force, dragging high wails from Jimin's ragged throat. Jimin's body shook uncontrollably, heels digging into the backs of Hoseok's burning thighs, fingers raking red trails into the broad tanned back of the real, whole man above him. Jimin began to move more erratically back against Hoseok, losing what little remaining composure he'd held onto as he got closer and closer. Hoseok's hand released Jimin's hip to find his throat, fingers beginning to dimple the soft pale flesh. Jimin's eyes were wide and wild, body wreathed in silver and silk as he trembled, flushed in swaths of pink. “I'm not gonna touch you,” Hoseok huffed, “I want you to cum on this cock, Jiminnie.”Hoseok’s stare was overwhelming as Jimin fought to focus, high breathy moans trying and failing to take the form of words. “I know getting your pretty little hole stretched out is enough for you, isn't it Jiminnie?” Hoseok's eyes burned into him as Jimin fell apart, pale body thrashing against the black leather as he came with a choked sob, small hands clutching at Hoseok's wrist, cock pink and pulsing against his white silk shirt. “Filthy little baby,” Hoseok groaned, leaning forward to cover Jimin's cursing lips with his own, thrusts shuddering as their tongues clashed. Jimin's fingers slid up Hoseok's shoulders to thread lovingly through his hair, still holding him close as he broke the kiss. “Jimin… Jimin…” Hoseok spoke as if it was the only word he was able to think, the chorus of his name only making Jimin's feel weaker as Hoseok dropped his hands from his neck and gripped his waist, pinning him to the sofa and holding him perfectly still as he snapped his hips forward a final time. Jimin went completely limp in Hoseok's grasp, his eyes lolling back and closing with an almost supernatural wave of pleasure as he felt the heat of Hoseok's cum spill, the other man's body tense and heated and still above him as his cock twitched inside him. His eyes were shut tight but his fingers weakly exploring the fine details of Hoseok's clenched jaw, his Adam's apple as it bobbed, his collarbones that deceptively suggested delicacy. Hoseok leaned forward into Jimin's touch, resting his forehead against his chest his back hunched bestially as he fought to catch his breath. Jimin opened his eyes, needing to commit this moment to memory, his hands stroking over Hoseok's face, the back of his neck, down his curving spine.“Fuck…” Jimin finally whispered, a smile instantly crinkling his eyes as Hoseok lifted his head, looking suddenly less like an intimidating fuckbeast and more like a puppy. “You're cute…” Jimin said, feeling love drunk and champagne drunk and cock drunk all at once. Hoseok chuckled, flashing his bright white teeth as he shakily pushed himself up to his knees.“You're still the sexiest person I've ever laid eyes on…” Hoseok grinned, slowly shaking his head laughing to himself as he braced himself and steadily pulled out of Jimin with a sigh. Jimin whined involuntarily at the sudden emptiness, feeling cum begin to ooze down his inner thigh, but Hoseok was on it, grabbing the soft towel and beginning to clean him. Jimin's cheeks burned bright red partially from physical exertion and partially from the sudden reminder of the concept of shame. “You don't have to—” “I made a mess out of you. It's the least I can do…” Hoseok cut him off with a softened smile as he cleaned them both, his touch exceptionally gentle. Jimin’s thighs trembled then relented for an intimate touch of another kind before Hoseok tossed the towel aside and began to pull up his underwear and pants, running his long delicate fingers through his hair in an attempt to pull himself together. Jimin’s anxieties began to solidify then. Hoseok was done. Hoseok was done with him. This was the time when one of them would excuse themselves or else endure the pain of being abandoned the next morning. But there he was, deep in Seoul, inside Hoseok’s apartment, nowhere to go. As Hoseok righted himself and the touching subsided, Jimin understood it as his queue. He shakily threw his legs over the sofa to sit upright on his suddenly sore ass, standing and immediately searching for his clothes. He caught the look of confusion in Hoseok’s eyes as he shuffled over to the space between the bar and the sofa and began to pull on his pants. “Won’t... you can stay here tonight. I invited you...” Hoseok sighed wearily, the tone in his voice not ignored but easily shrugged off as a courtesy by Jimin. Hoseok reached out to catch Jimin’s wrist and that time it felt less like a slap and more like a kiss as Jimin was forced to meet Hoseok’s eyes. But he couldn’t quite manage. This wasn’t his place. Hoseok didn’t want him here. Not really. He was just a convenience. He was just a comfort. “Thanks,” Jimin managed to smile as he spoke, placing his hand over Hoseok’s squeezing gently as he felt the other man’s fingers relent their grasp, “but I should go back...”“You’ll barely make the last train...”“I can make it,” Jimin replied, unable to meet Hoseok’s eyes anymore as he wiggled back into his jeans and made his way over to his coat hung over the barstool, “But I appreciate this. You letting me into your home. Next time you’re in Busan...” Jimin trailed off. He didn’t feel worthy. This wasn’t the place for him. He was just a placeholder here. Hoseok’s sigh sounded disappointed but Jimin refused to accept it, shrugging his coat back up on his shoulders as the older pushed himself off the sofa, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re sure...?” Hoseok murmured quietly. Jimin felt acid rise up in his stomach as he nodded with a forced smile. “Thank you for the passes. And for having me over,” he said, his eyes fixed on the floor away from the kind eyes he didn’t deserve, “good luck with your mixtape. Next time you’re in town—“Jimin’s self-deprecation was cut off by a kiss. It was warm, sweet, and longer than he’d anticipated. He tried his best to resist the pounding of his heart that demanded he stay, that called for him to throw his body and soul to the man who treated him so roughly and so tenderly. So he pulled away. Jimin smiled like he was at the funeral of a distant friend comforting the mourners. “You have my number...” Jimin mumbled, taking shaky steps toward the door. He’d just have to wait until next time. This is how it always was. This is how it always would be. “Jimin...” Hoseok sighed, following just a step behind the younger as he made his way to the exit, “be careful...”“Thanks,” Jimin said, the trembling of his heart not absent from his voice as he opened the door and stepped into the hall, “You were amazing...” Jimin meant it. As a fan and as a lover. As much as he could call himself Hoseok’s lover. “You too...” There was nothing else Hoseok could do. The door shut as quickly as it had opened and Jimin was gone. Hoseok wasn’t the type to cry. But he leaned his head against the cold door, wishing it was Jimin instead. Sorrow was the last thing Hoseok has planned on feeling when he’d invited Jimin. But that’s what he was left with. “Goddammit, kid...” he sighed deeply, shaking his head, his hair falling into his eyes as he finally lifted his head, trudging sluggishly toward the shower. Apparently getting Jimin to love him was just too much to ask.
11300139	bloom	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Keith (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), The Blade of Marmora, Lotor", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by pratktcven (calciseptine)", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-11T00:00:00", "words": "4,317", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Flowers, Tattoos, Pining, Awkwardness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added", "Relationship": "Hunk/Keith (Voltron)", "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 }	Keith is hiding behind one of the larger floral arrangements in the window when the bell above the door rattles. The sound startles him so much that he yelps and takes a sudden step back. Shiro—who walked into the shop carrying a tray of their morning coffee—freezes at the unexpected noise. They stare at one another, wide-eyed, before Keith straightens and attempts to look as inconspicuous as possible. Shiro blinks. "Good morning," Keith says, aiming for nonchalant and missing by miles. "Hey," Shiro responds. "What are you—?" "Just checking out the hydrangea arrangement," Keith responds. The words come out of his mouth so quickly that the syllables slur together into an incomprehensible soup. Keith winces internally and thinks, So much for subtle, even as he repeats himself at a slower pace. "Riiiiight," Shiro drawls skeptically. His expression is doubtful but he accepts the obvious lie without further prodding. "Anyway, I have your latte and your cherry danish. Do you want me to put it in the back or are you going to eat it right away?" "I was just about to strip the roses," Keith answers. Shiro nods and sets Keith's breakfast on the large work table in the center of the room. Keith wants to walk over and devour the pastry—he hasn't eaten since late afternoon yesterday, when he microwaved some leftovers in his tiny apartment kitchen—but he forces himself to actually check the arrangements in the window display. He doesn't know why. His cover is already weak and he checked them last night before closing. "Oh, and Keith?" Shiro says. Keith uselessly adjusts a delicate sprig of tree fern and grunts, "Yeah?" "If you're going to spy on the guy across the street, you might want to find a new hiding spot." . Several hours later, after the newly arrived roses have been stripped of all their thorns and some of their leaves, Lance swaggers into the shop. He is dressed in a deep blue button-down, pale gray slacks, and polished shoes. It is his typical attire when he has to deliver for special occasions. "Hey, mullet man," Lance greets as he pulls his wayfarer sunglasses off and perches them atop his head. "Shiro in the back?" Keith barely spares Lance a glance, focused on transferring some wrapped boutonnieres into a small box. Each one is a unique blend of succulents, flower buds, and filler. It was Keith's first time trying to wrangle such a combo into such a small arrangement, and despite his experience, he pricked himself more times than he is willing to admit. "Careful there," Lance comments airly. "Don't want to ruin all your hard work." Without taking his eyes off the arrangements, Keith hisses, "I will murder you." Lance smirks. Shiro hired Lance about three years ago as a part-time delivery boy—as Keith preferred to stay at the store and Shiro could only carry so much with one arm—and in that time they have developed a small rivalry. At least, that's what Shiro calls it. Keith calls it Lance being as annoying as possible. "Hey, Lance," Shiro calls as he exits the backroom. He is dressed similarly to Lance, though his shirt is white and his slacks are olive-brown. "Is the van ready?" "Yep!" Lance pops the p and jerks a thumb at Keith. "Just waiting for Slow Poke McGee over here to finish." Keith refrains from rising to Lance's taunt. If there's one thing he's learned over the years, it's to ignore Lance as much as possible. He also says nothing because Lance is right; Keith won't admit it to Lance, but he should have spent less time daydreaming about the hot tattoo artist across the street and more time focusing on his work. "We can start with the arrangements and the bouquets, then," Shiro says, gesturing Lance over. There are ten table-toppers carefully placed in three carrying trays, one bridal and five bridesmaid bouquets in a repurposed dishwashing rack, two enormous arrangements in heavy vases for decoration, one flower crown, and a bag of pale green rose petals. Lance immediately picks up one of the heavier trays. By the time they have everything loaded, Keith is finished with the boutonnieres. "We'll be back in a couple hours," Shiro tells Keith. "You'll be okay?" "I'm sure I can handle a few walk-ins," Keith assures him. Keith is polite to customers, if not a little awkward. As long as no one tries to make a lot of small talk or asks too many stupid questions, he's fine. "Besides, it's Tuesday. We're dead on Tuesdays." "Alright, alright." Shiro smiles. "See you soon." Then, with a two-fingered salute from Lance, they're out the door, and Keith is alone in the shop. . Keith works in silence for the next half hour, trimming stems and cutting filler. He and Shiro have another wedding to cater for at the end of the week, but there's only so much he can do before his shipment of white anemone, grape hyacinth, and tallow berry arrives. So instead, he focuses on an enormous centerpiece for one of the shop's regulars. The bell tinkles as Keith contemplates throwing in some succulents he had left from the wedding party. He calls out a greeting absently. "Hi," a deep voice responds. Keith's mental visualization of the echeveria among the dusty miller and pale pink hydrangea is instantly interrupted by curiosity. Very few men visit Once and Flor-All, and those that do are usually either teenage boys buying their first corsage or awkward husbands looking for anniversary presents. When Keith looks up, however, he is met with neither. When Keith looks up, it's the tattoo artist from across the street. "Hi," Keith squeaks. Heat immediately washes over his entire face. He hopes he isn't as red as the celosia bundled on the table, despite knowing from experience that he probably is. "I mean—uh—welcome? Hi. How can I—shit." His hand accidentally knocks over a plastic vase filled with the roses he stripped earlier. The roses stay intact but water gets all over his workspace. Keith curses again as he grabs the vase and sets it upright. "You okay?" the guy asks, stepping closer to the square table that takes up the central space of the shop. "Yeah," Keith murmurs, keeping his eyes down as he snags a roll of paper towels and cleans up the worst of it. The prep table is almost always slightly damp when in use, and spilling a little water isn't the end of the world. Keith is just flustered. "Sorry," the guy continues, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted—sorry." There is a small cough. "Ugh, I'm really sorry. Do you want me to go?" Keith dares a glance at the man he's been spying on since the tattoo shop opened two months ago. He's big and tall, with hair in thick waves down to his bare shoulders. Nearly every inch of his exposed skin—his throat and collarbones, his biceps, forearms, and wrists—is covered in geometric lines and angles of varying thickness. Keith had not been able to tell from a distance, but up close, the detail in his tattoo design is extraordinary. "No," Keith says slowly. "Okay." The other man smiles and reaches out with his free hand. His huge palm makes Keith's look tiny in comparison. "I'm Hunk Tuaolo. I work across the street.” Keith means to reply with his own name, but instead he responds with, "I know." He realizes how creepy that sounds right after he says it and immediately tries to backtrack. "I mean—I didn't know your name before but I know you because I've seen you go into the shop a couple times? Not because I've been spying on you or anything but—okay, I mean, I was curious when the new strip opened, but it wasn't just you! I spied on all the shops and—god, that sounds so creepy, I swear I'm not a stalker, I just—I just really need to shut up, god." Stilling his tongue and closing his mouth takes a lot of willpower. Keith rarely rambles—he is more a man of action than a man of words—but he tends to word vomit when he's nervous. Great, Keith thinks sarcastically as he bites down on the inside of his cheek with his molars. Now the hot guy across the street thinks you're a fucking weirdo. Way to go. Hunk, however, does not give Keith an odd look. His wide smile remains as he says, "It's not that creepy. You were just curious. Also, like, it wouldn't have been cool if another flower shop invaded your turf." Some of Keith's nerves settle at the understanding in Hunk's tone. Keith knows he can be awkward. The only people he interacts with regularly are Shiro, Lance, and Allura, as well as the other members of his dojang. Shiro doesn't count as practice for social interaction since he’s Keith's cousin; Allura is more of a boss than a friend; and the other men at the dojang are ten to fifteen years Keith's senior. The only person Keith communicates with that is actually his own age is Lance, and Lance likes to verbally despair of Keith every chance he gets. "Anyways," Hunk says after a small, stilted pause. "I actually came over to ask a huge favor of you." "Yeah?" Keith prompts. "Well, I have this client who wants a floral sleeve done," Hunk explains as he pulls a large, spiral-bound sketchbook out from under his arm, its corners dog-eared from use. "She has a couple of flowers that she wants incorporated—king protea and roses, actually—but otherwise gave me a lot of free rein. And I'll be honest with you, I'm an angles and lines kinda guy. Flowers are a little outside of my comfort zone." Keith's eyes dart back to the precise lines inked across Hunk's skin. Briefly, he wonders if the design is Hunk's own or if it is another artist's vision. "I mean, I could google bouquets, but I don't like doing that," continues Hunk. "It feels like I'm being disingenuous. Which is stupid, I know. Everyone gets tattoo ideas from the internet nowadays. But, like, it's my job to make it authentic." "I understand," Keith says. A lot of people come into the store with pictures on their phones, which is fine to start; it's the people that insist on an exact replication that frustrate Keith. His job is to create, not copy. "So you need help constructing a bouquet?" "Yes," Hunk says emphatically. "Okay," Keith answers. "Well, I can tell you right now that I don't have any king protea on hand. That's a rarer flower that needs to be special ordered. I do, however, have a lot of other foliage that will work with it. Did your client say what kind of roses she wanted?" "No." Hunk shakes his head. "Just roses." Keith nods once before he walks over to the cooler against the back wall. After opening the door, he confidently grabs blue thistle and white wax flower, seeded and silver dollar eucalyptus, laurel-leafed cocculus, peonies, and pale cabbage roses. He only picks a stem or two of each, then brings them over to Shiro's side of the prep table. "There," Keith says after he's gently arranged them on the uncluttered space. "In a bouquet, the king protea is generally in the center or bottom right." Then he continues, pointing to the respective plants as he talks, "The cabbage roses and peonies are also going to be centered or adjacent to the the king protea. The blue thistle and wax flowers are filler for any gaps, and the rest would be used to frame the flowers. Be careful with the seeded eucalyptus, though; it's pretty drapey." "Wow," Hunk says when Keith has finished his explanation. That one syllable makes Keith realize that he probably went overboard, something he knows he tends to do. "Sorry," Keith mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Those are just what I would use if I were making an arrangement. I can use something else if you don't like it, or—" "No!" interrupts Hunk. "No, Keith, no—this is super awesome, thank you. I'm really impressed. Like, I know you work here, but like, you didn't even have to think about what I needed. Are—are all the arrangements in the shop yours?" "Most of them." Keith can feel his cheeks heat up for the third time in less than ten minutes and curses his fair skin. "Shiro—my cousin, he owns the shop—he isn't great at it." That is an understatement. Shiro is okay at re-creating bouquets from photographs, which is what he did before he hired Keith, but he's terrible at making something from scratch. Now Shiro only puts the simple stuff together, such as the ever popular dozen roses. "That is really cool," Hunk gushes as he steps closer to the prep table. "These textures are amazing." Keith has a hard time looking at the bright sincerity of Hunk's smile, so when he mutters, "Thank you," he says it to Hunk's massive shoulder. Not that it helps. The muscle in Hunk's arm tightens beneath his skin and Keith's mouth instantly goes dry. "Mind if I sit here?" Hunk asks. He gestures to the side of the table Keith carefully laid the flowers down upon. "To sketch them? I mean, I can just take some pictures if you don't want me taking up your space. I know some people work better with privacy." "No," Keith says as he tears his eyes away from Hunk's enormous biceps. "I'm good." He clears his throat as he becomes aware of how strained his voice sounds. "You can stay." "Dude, you're a freaking lifesaver," Hunk praises as his smile grows impossibly wider. "Seriously. I know it sounds weird, but it's so much easier to get a feel for something in real life than from a picture. And all I know about flowers is that they're pretty. So thanks, man. Thank you. You're really saving my butt." Keith's embarrassed blush deepens. It is not an attractive look for him—his blushes are stark and they fill in splotchy over his flat cheeks—but it feels as though that's all he’s been capable of doing since Hunk walked through the door. "Yeah, man," Keith mutter, ducking his head in a futile attempt to hide the redness from Hunk's eyes. At this point, the other man probably already thinks he has some sort of skin condition, or is part tomato. "No problem." . ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- They work in relative silence, a quiet upset only by the snip of Keith's shears, the rasp of Hunk's soft lead pencils, and the occasional question. "Hey, Keith," Hunk says several minutes after settling onto Shiro's stool. Keith looks up from his work—which he was struggling to focus on instead of Hunk—and tilts his head wordlessly. "Sorry to interrupt but, uhh, can I pick these up? I want to sketch them from different angles." "Yeah," Keith replies. "Go ahead." Hunk grins at him and gently picks up a stem. He holds it carefully as he examines it, sketching quickly and from several different angles. "Do these come in different colors?" Hunk asks when the blue thistle is pinched between his fingers. "I mean, not this one, specifically, but all of them. My client was still trying to decide between grayscale and color, and I don't wanna make something yellow when it should only be red, you know?" "Well, the thistle you're holding is always blue or purple, in any shade between the two," Keith answers. "The wax flowers—the tiny ones with the needle-like leaves—are commonly white or pink or magenta, though I have seen variants in pale green or red. As for the cabbage roses, those can be pretty much be any warm pastel color you want, like pink or peach, yellow or ivory." Hunk writes down Keith's notes in the margin of his sketchbook, tongue between his teeth in concentration. He circles a few and draws arrows to some of his drawings; Keith recognizes the motions, but he is too far away to see any real detail. "What about the filler?" "There isn't any variation on those." Hunk hums a thank you as he jots down a few more words at the bottom of the page, then flips the sketchbook over to a clean sheet. "Okay, last one," Hunks says. "Do these flowers have any special or secret meaning?" Keith snorts at the question. Hunk grins wryly at the derisive sound, as though to say, "That bad, huh?" It is very different from the sour frowns Keith usually receives from customers when he is impolite, but it is enough of a reminder for him to feel a tiny pinprick of guilt. "Sorry," Keith murmurs, dropping his gaze to the echeveria, hydrangea, and dusty miller laid out before him. Sometimes he forgets that not everyone has been a florist since they were seventeen. "It's just—well, nobody really cares about flower language anymore." "Really?" Hunk blinks. "What about, like, roses and stuff?" "Those are an exception," Keith admits. "Red roses for love. Yellow roses for friendship. But those are mainstream enough that people buy them by the stem or by the dozen if they're trying to say something. Otherwise it's all about the recipient's personal taste." "Do you get a lot of clients who ask about it?" Keith shrugs. "Some. Shiro's the one who deals with most of the orders, and he always tells them that what's important is who it's for, not what it's for." "I get that," Hunk says with a nod. "A good tattoo is the same way. It's how you feel about your tattoo, not how other people do." Keith's eyes dart from Hunk's face to the intricate lines covering Hunk's skin. They're gorgeous, straight lines on an organic, curving canvas, and they manage to be both delicate and masculine. Surely the tattoos mean something—Hunk does not seem like the kind of person to do something without purpose, even if that purpose were for aesthetic—but by the time Keith gathers enough courage to ask, Hunk has returned to his sketchbook. Briefly, Keith regrets his inability to make conversation. He wants to talk to Hunk and learn more about him. He even tries to think of something to say. Everything he comes up with sounds stilted though, and if it's awkward inside his own mind, Keith can't imagine how his thoughts would flounder off his tongue. So instead of speaking, he heaves a silent sigh, and returns to his arrangement. . Keith does not know how long Hunk sketches. There is no clock in the shop, and Keith's cellphone is plugged into the outlet by the register. He cannot gauge a time by his arrangement either, since his normal efficiency is hindered by the distraction of the man across from him. If Keith were to hazard a guess, however, he would say that Hunk spends an hour perched on Shiro's stool before he hops off and stretches. The hem of Hunk's pale blue, pineapple-and-palm-tree print muscle tank rides up over the swell of his belly. Keith's gaze sweeps over Hunk's exposed skin, before his common sense reminds him that it's impolite to stare. "Get everything you need?" Keith blurts in an attempt to act casual. "I think I did!" Hunk beams in reply. "I have enough rough sketches to get the feel of the flowers. Now I just need to google the main flower. After I do that, I can start fitting it all together and make some concrete designs." Keith takes a sprig of dusty miller from his arrangement, mumbles, "Sorry I don't have any king protea for you," then sticks the silver-green foliage right back where it was. "Dude," Hunk interjects emphatically. "You have helped me so much, you don't even know. I'm not kidding when I say this is my first floral tattoo. I didn't even know where to start before I came over. I owe you big time, seriously." "You don't owe me anything," Keith says, his shoulders tightening at Hunk's praise. He loves his job and he knows that he has a good eye, but compliments are difficult to accept when he hasn't really done anything. "It was fun." "Pretty sure I still owe you," Hunk responds with a smile. "How about I buy you lunch at Xi's?" The brittle tension in Keith's shoulders slips down his spine. While he cannot think of anything better than having lunch at Xi's Noodle Emporium, eating with and talking to the man he has been harboring a crush on for the better part of two months, he also cannot think of anything worse. The tables at Xi's are tiny; if Keith spends an hour knocking his knees against Hunk's legs, he is sure that his face will become hot enough to spontaneously combust. So instead of accepting Hunk's offer, Keith shakes his head and lies. "Sorry," he declines. "Shiro and Lance are going to be back soon, and they said they were going to pick up lunch. But—umm—thank you?" "Oh." Hunk blinks. "Okay." He pauses, his eyes flickering over Keith's face. Briefly, Keith wonders if Hunk can tell that he isn't telling the truth; Shiro has always maintained that Keith is a terrible liar, but Keith doesn't know how accurate the statement is considering that Shiro is also his cousin. "What about some other time this week?" At this point in their conversation, Keith's back is so tense that if anyone touches him, he may snap in half. He wants to say yes—he really, really does—but he also knows what would happen if he did. He is not good at maintaining conversation, only killing it, and he balks at the thought of their easy rapport dying an awkward but inevitable death. "Sorry," Keith says again, though this apology sounds much more sincere and much less panicked. "I have a shipment tomorrow and a wedding on Sunday, so I'll be really busy until then." This, at least, is not a lie. Keith will be consumed by work the moment he receives his awaited order. "Oh." Hunk's smile dims a little and his gaze dips down. "I guess it is wedding season, isn't it?" "Yeah," Keith affirms. "It is." Silence descends and stretches into several very uncomfortable seconds. It is exactly what Keith had been trying to avoid with his first rejection, but he supposes that the presence of such discomfiture only confirms his previous surety of disaster. "Well, uhh, you gotta do what you gotta do, I guess." Hunk tucks his notebook firmly between his bicep and his torso, then reaches up and scrubs a hand across the back of his neck. "I should get back to the shop and get started on some real sketches. Not that these aren't real, because they're obviously there on the paper, but like—more together? I—shit—I already told you that. About putting it into a single piece. Right?" "Right," Keith says. "Because I thought I did, but then I just blanked? Or whatever. But—uhh—thank you? No, that came out wrong." Hunk clears his throat. "I mean, thank you again. For the help. That I needed. For my… client." Hunk visibly winces as he stumbles over his own words, his wide, handsome face momentarily pinched. "Wow, okay, this is not how I imagined this going." The last statement is muttered beneath Hunk's breath, giving Keith pause. He is a little perplexed by the devolution of Hunk's confidence into disjointed rambles, and this confusion makes him tilt his head and ask, "Imagine what going?" "Nothing!" Hunk blurts. The hand on the back of his neck flies upwards into the space between them, his palm out and fingers splayed as though to physically deflect Keith's suspicion. "Nothing at all! I was just—just talking to myself! Ha! But seriously, this is me leaving. Right now. You're busy, I've taken up way too much of your time and—bye. Yes. Thank you very much for your time, I hope the rest of your afternoon is great, good luck with the wedding." After this last sentiment falls out of his mouth, Hunk nods to himself, turns around jerkily, and all but speed-walks to the door with his shoulders squared stiffly and his head held unnaturally high. Then—when his free hand comes into contact with the exit's stainless steel push bar—he stops. Pauses for the space of a heart beat. Looks over his bare, tattooed shoulder and grins, small and sheepish and warm. "Bye," Hunk says. "Bye," Keith echoes. Then the bell above the door rattles, and Hunk is outside, skin cast golden beneath the summer sun. Keith watches as he checks for traffic; as he briskly jaywalks across the undivided four lane street; as he approaches the tattoo parlor. He does not look back before he disappears, the door swinging shut behind him, and Keith mentally chides himself for the stab of disappointment he feels. Keith is the one with the inconvenient crush, not Hunk, and no matter how much Keith wants him to, Hunk isn't obligated to cast a final look at the floral shop… Or ask Keith out to lunch for a third time. "Stupid," Keith mutters to himself as he drags his gaze away from the tattoo parlor's closed door and back towards the table. He needs to finish his arrangement, not stand in the middle of the shop and overanalyze every word he and Hunk exchanged. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…" And with that mantra in his brain, Keith grabs his trimming scissors from his apron pocket, and gets back to work. .
11308632	Anthology Smiles and	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Honda Tohru, Sohma Yuki, Sohma Shigure", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by HerPrettySmile", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-26T00:00:00", "words": "1,483", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Slow Romance, Friendship, Family", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Honda Tohru/Sohma Yuki, Honda Tohru & Sohma Yuki", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga), Fruits Basket (Anime)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Tohru woke up to the sound of a raging storm.Startled, she sat up in her bed, staring at the view outside her closed window in horror. The trees seemed to be swaying with the wind to the point of almost breaking, and the sky was so dark, you couldn't tell that it was five in the morning.Tohru hurriedly got out of bed and began to think about both Yuki and Kyo. She hoped that the secret base wouldn't be destroyed by the time the storm ended. She knew that it was the only thing Yuki did that he really liked, and she would hate it if it was taken away from him. She also hoped that Kyo wouldn't be feeling too weak in this sort of weather condition. Given the cat's normal reaction to just the usual rainshower, she couldn't imagine what he would be feeling right now when it was a real storm.At that exact moment, Tohru was snapped out of her thoughts when her window suddenly slammed open, letting in the angry wind. She could only gape in shock as some of her things were blown away outside."A—Ah! M—My notebook!" she cried. "I spent hours rewriting those notes…!"She stopped in her tracks suddenly. She wanted to chase after them, but would that really be wise? She would only become more of a liability when she went outside. She would only trouble Yuki and the others.But my notebook… she wailed softly in her mind. Well, I could just get Yuki-kun to tutor me… again… Aaw, this is so embarrassing!For a while, she mourned the loss of her notes while running towards the window to close it shut. But before she could even grab the handles, a familiar red cap sailed outside.Tohru's jaw dropped to the floor. "NO! Not the cap! No!" Without even thinking about her actions, she climbed out the window and began to chase after it."Honda-san?!"Tohru momentarily ceased, turning towards the source of the voice reflexively. "Y—Yuki-kun?!""Honda-san!" Yuki ran towards her worriedly, his arms full of wet clothes. Apparently he had been trying to salvage the laundry before things got even worse. Tohru briefly chided herself for forgetting about saving the hung laundry. "What are you doing out here?! It's dangerous!""B—But the cap…! I just can't let it go off like that! It doesn't belong to me! I have to give it back to a very good friend!" she insisted frantically.They were both panting and shouting at each other due to the harshness of the weather and the loudness of the rain. Yuki could only watch helplessly as tears began to stream down Tohru's face. Anyone could mistake it for raindrops falling on her face, but Yuki knew better.I don't know if this is going to be a good idea or not… Yuki thought as he pondered about what to do with the current situation. But if Honda-san's going to be like this just because of that cap… I will try."I'll go get it for you! Here, take these!" Yuki gently shoved the wet clothes in her arms. "Go inside, Honda-san! I'll be right back, okay?!"Tohru could only nod helplessly as he ran off. Deciding to trust in Yuki and wait until he came home, she rushed inside the house, placing the dripping clothing into a strainer. Then, remembering that her window was still open, she ran to her room.She was just in time to see her mother's picture leisurely flowing with the wind… towards the window.Tohru's could practically feel her eyeballs almost popping out of their sockets. "OKAA-SAN! Don't worry, okaa-san! I'll save you!"She made a dive for the picture, but the latter flew out of her grasp and disappeared outside. Tohru promptly forgot about everything and only focused on chasing after her mother's picture.She spotted it sailing near the forest and ran towards it, almost catching it with her fingers. However, it once again flew away from her, and Tohru tried again. And again. And again, until she delved deeper into the forest.When she finally caught the picture, she heaved a great big sigh of relief. "O—Okaa-san… It's all right now! Ahahaha!" Feeling the happiness filling her body, Tohru turned around and intended to return back to the house.But then she stopped and looked around."Wh—Where am I…?" she wondered aloud.It took a full minute to sink inside her mind. "OH NO! I—I—I'm lost! Wh—What am I going to do? I—I still have to make breakfast for everyone… I still have to buy some groceries, dry out the laundry, clean up my room, mop up the floor… Oh no, there's so, so much to do!"She was practically pacing back and forth, not even minding the heavy rain that poured on her. For a brief moment, she was glad that the thin glass that covered her mother's picture in the frame was sturdy enough and didn't let any water inside. However, just to be safe, Tohru hid her precious treasure inside her clothes and began to find her way around the forest.She had been living at Shigure's house for a long time now, so she often knew her way out in the shallow parts of the forest. But then it now seemed that she had trudged into an unfamiliar part of the forest, somewhere she had never explored before. Not to mention that there seemed to be a lot of trails, indicating numerous paths. Picking the wrong trail would result in her getting even more lost, but picking the right one would probably guarantee the road home.Tohru's mind spun. What was she supposed to do now?"Honda-san!"When Tohru turned around to see a worried-looking Yuki, she had never felt more happy and relieved in her entire life. She could see that the rain had made him look worn-down; his hair was dark and stringy due to the wetness, and his clothes looked rumpled and completely drenched. In short, it looked like he had an adventure of his own."Yuki-kun!" she exclaimed, paddling over to him. "I'm so glad you're here! A—Are you all right?""I'm fine, Honda-san." Yuki's voice was gentle and quiet, like the sound of lapping waves. "Are you… lost?""A—Ah, yes," she replied, embarrassed as she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "I can't seem to find my way back home…"In response, Yuki grabbed her hand, albeit almost tentatively. As he led the way, Tohru couldn't help but notice that he seemed really silent and that this scene seemed like… déjà vu.When they finally reached the house, a smile lit up Tohru's face, clearing away all her worries in an instant. It was also then at that moment that the rain began to slowly let up. The dark clouds were also receding, letting the sun shine brightly from behind a few gray ones.Tohru immediately got out her mother's picture and beamed. "Look, okaa-san! We're home!" Then she turned to her saviour, her smile never fading. "Thank you so much, Yuki-kun!"An unreadable expression was painted on Yuki's face as he seemed to stare at her, causing her to look at him inquisitively. Then, without warning, a light, familiar object was gently placed on her head, causing her to bow her head slightly.For a moment, Tohru's mind went blank. She didn't know exactly what was happening.Or rather, what was happening to her.When she raised her head, Yuki was gone. Panicked, she searched for him with her eyes, then relief washed over her when she saw him trudging slowly back to the house."Yuki-kun!"He stopped in his tracks.Tohru didn't know what to say. Her right hand was touching the cap on her head, as if still in disbelief that it was actually there while her left hand was placed on her chest, her fingers curling and uncurling over and over out of nervousness.But… what was she nervous about?However, could it… could it be that Yuki was…"U—Um… Yuki-kun… I—… This cap…" she stammered, chiding herself mentally for not knowing what she should say.But if Yuki really was the one who saved her back then, then she should—Yuki turned his head towards her and gave the softest smile and the gentlest expression she had ever seen."I'm glad you're back home, Honda-san," he said simply.When the two of them returned to the house, Shigure began to fuss on Tohru."Tohru-kun! Are you all right? You're soaking wet! Yuki, you should go get Tohru-kun some towels! Oh, and Tohru-kun, Kyo-kun has actually locked himself in his room! Ahahaha! Isn't that… funny…" He slowly stopped at the look on her face. "…Tohru-kun… are you… blushing?" fin
11381682	Vertigo	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia", "Fandom": "Final Fantasy XV", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by SpaceBat (kuraikon)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-02T00:00:00", "words": "3,499", "Additional Tags": "Promptio Week, late!, Bodyswap, Body Swap, Coming Out, Relationship Reveal, poor Gladio, poor ignis, noctis is traumatised", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, Hinted, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia", "Series": null, "Collections": "Promptioweek2017", "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 }	June 30th: body swap/momento "Noctis, I'm not sure this is a good idea."Rolling his eyes, Noctis looked back at Ignis with a frown. "Can you think of a better present for my dad?" Silence answered him. "Thought so." Ignis glanced at Gladio and Prompto who both shrugged. The king's birthday was in a days time and Noctis had his heart set on a specific hand cream that could be made with the petals of a rare flower. A flower that had to be picked fresh. And only grew on the mountain walls near Hammerhead. And usually grew amid flesh eating weeds.But somehow Noctis had talked his best friend, Shield and Advisor into not only sneaking him out of Insomnia for a day but also going along with him. "Remind me why you could get some of the Crownsguard get this for you?" Gladio asked, circling a pile of large rock in search.Noctis huffed, standing up on tip toes to inspect a bunch of flowers. "Because they'd have to get permission from my dad. And then he'd know and tell me that he doesn't need it, that it's the thought that counts." He pulled a face as if the notion was ridiculous. "But he's only been able to have this cream once before and it was a tiny pot. He loved the stuff!""I'm not sure how much he'll love it if one of us dies to get it." "Shut up Glads. No ones gonna die. Find the weeds, burn 'em, grab the flowers. Done."Prompto made a whining noise. "Dude, it's never that easy."Opening his mouth to argue, Noctis was cut off by a shout from Ignis."Highness! Come look!"The three of them followed the noise to see that Ignis had found what looked to be an opening into the mountain. Peering through, it was more like hugely tall rocks had formed a second fake wall, leaving a large glade flooding with light before the actual mountain began. Ignis was stood just inside of the opening and Noctis joined him, looking over the large bunches of dead looking plants and, a few feet in, a large bunch of tiny white flowers with a yellow centre and blue leaves. The flowers for the cream. "Iggy." Noctis breathed. "You found it!"He went to take a step forwards but was yanked back by his collar by Gladio."Why do you make my job so hard? I bet my next Cup Noodle those plant ain't dead." He frowned and looked around. "Ah, see, there's a small walkway gap there leading passed your flowers. Let's do that instead."Carefully, the four of them tried to walk silently around the edge of the glade, coming to a stop where the brown dried plants parted to make a path across the hidden garden. Ignis pulled out two Fira spells and passed one to Gladio. "Noctis and Prompto will walk through since there's not much space. Gladio and I will be ready to strike if need be."Pulling off his bag, Noctis threw it to Gladio. "Try not to burn these damn flowers.""Try not to die."Prompto whimpered but obediently stepped into the field behind Noctis. They walked slowly, stepping as gently as they were able and taking small steps. Pausing at every rustle, it took a fair few minutes to get close enough to the white flowers to reach them. Prompto stayed standing, fingers twitching for his guns, while Noctis softly squatted down low and slowly reached out to the tiny buds.Grabbing a handful, he tugged and came away with a small bunch. The fragile flowers were tucked into his coat and then the process was repeated. Eventually Noctis had enough that he would be able to make a large pot for his dad and, giddy, he reached for one last handful. His coat sleeve ever so slightly brushed over a brown spiked leaf from the other plant, too softly for him to feel. Prompto watched in horror as the weed lifted its head and turned to face Noctis, brown fading into a deep red."Noct!"The goo spat from the weed missed Noctis's shoulder by centimetres as Prompto slammed into his friend and shoved him to the ground. Noctis's head nudged another plant which bled to red and turned to face them. Prompto scrambled off of Noctis and the Prince sat up and tried to pull him by his coat when the weed hissed and let loose a green puff of air. Behind them a shatter sounded and then heat sprung up as a spell was cast. Together, Noctis and Prompto staggered to their feet, hands thrown over their mouths, and ran towards Gladio who had stepped to meet them, sword drawn. Ignis threw the other spell over their heads as the rest of the weeds were woken and began to darken in colour. Noctis was grabbed roughy by Gladio and half-dragged towards the opening. The weeds were growing now and letting out screeching noises as they ran past. Noctis was practically thrown through the opening and tumbled to the ground. He got up just in time for Prompto to almost run into him as he came through. Then the Prince reached into the opening to grab blindly at Ignis to pull him through as quickly as possible. On Ignis' heel, Gladio barrelled between the rocks. The Shield didn't stop moving, instead he grabbed Noctis around the waist and lifted him bodily from the ground causing a small yelp."Keep moving! The alchemist said those things were rooted to the ground but I don't wanna take any chances since he forgot to mention the acid and gas!" He squeezed Noctis as he carried him. "Got your prize?"Noctis looked over his shoulder to check that Ignis and Prompto were keeping up. He tapped his coat pocket. "Got 'em!" "Thank fuck, I don't care if this stuff makes people shit gold, we are not going back."-Noctis crawled into bed with a yawn after unhappily setting his alarm for the early morning. He wanted to go get the cream for his dad, the alchemist promising it would be ready by opening and pass the bakery to grab breakfast before his dad began his day. That way, he could give the present with freshly bought breakfast. Struggling to get comfortable, Noctis turned and repositioned himself a few times before eventually falling asleep.-It felt like he had only been asleep a few minutes before the alarm was waking him. Prompto groaned into his pillow and flailed an arm out of the covers to slam against the clock. Morning run time. Why the hell did he do it to himself.Yawning, he sat up blearily and winced at the bright sun spilling into the room. Squinting, he frowned at the black curtains. He was sure he had closed them last night. Confused, he looked around the room. Black carpet, large desk spilling with paperwork, clothes thrown about, fishing posters up.Why the hell was he in Noctis' room?And why could he see so well before putting his contacts in?The alarm went off again and Prompto reached out to turn it off, not just hit snooze.He stared at his freckle-less arm.Heart beating in his throat, Prompto kept out of bed, legs getting caught in black silk sheets and making him stumble as he rushed towards the bathroom.Peering into the mirror, Noctis' terrified face stared back at him. Raising a hand, the wrong reflection did the same.Prompto had three horrifying thoughts all at once:He did not want to rule a Kingdom.The body he was in really needed to pee.Where the hell did Noctis wake up?-The alarm ringing made Noctis whine. Fucking alarm, fucking present, fucking birthdays. Pulling his sheets around him, he buried his head into his pillow and tried to cocoon himself away from the world. Thankfully, the alarm stopped after a while.Wait, why did the alarm stop?Peering into the dim room, Noctis frowned at the sight of a wooden beside table taller than his head. His bed was tall and level with his tables usually. Looking around without lifting his head, Noctis grew confused. Why did he have training pictures up on his wall? Where was his desk? Why didn't his sheets feel right?A huff came from behind him and then a sudden heavy weight was laid across his waist."I know it's not cheat day but can't we lay in a bit? I'm shattered."Mortified, Noctis twisted round to see Gladio draped over him, blinking at him sleepily with his face a few centimetres away.Noctis yelped loudly and kicked out, scrambling away until he threw himself out of bed completely and landed on his rear. A rear end that felt a bit odd. Gladio sat up on one elbow to stare at him,sheet falling down and exposing his bare chest."Gladio?!""Um." Gladio rubbed a hand through his hair. "Yeah? You okay babe?"Babe?!"Babe?!" He squeaked.Gladio frowned down at him. "Are you ok? You're looking kinda pale.""I'm a bit confused." His voice sounded odd, though that was the least of his worries. "Where? How? Why?"Gladio sat up completely and the sheet slipped into his lap, displaying a worrying absence of underwear."Prom, how hard did you hit your head just now?!"Prom? Prom?!Noctis blinked down at his bare legs, pale and heavily freckled with fine blond hairs. Thankfully, his crotch was covered with Chocobo boxers.Prompto's Chocobo boxers.Scrambling to his feet, Noctis ran out of the bedroom door into the bathroom, Gladio calling out behind him. In the mirror, Prompto stared back at him, eyes wide. Noctis raised a hand to his face and pinched a freckled cheek. In the mirror, he saw Gladio come up behind him, now wearing underwear, crossing his arms and frowning."Not exactly the wake up I had in mind, Sunshine. Wanna tell me what's going on?""Maybe you should tell me what the hell is going on!" Noctis said, Prompto's voice coming out shrill from his mouth. "Why the fuck were you in bed with my best friend!?"Gladio stared at him, mouth slack. "What? I have never been in bed with Noct! Well, not since we were kids. What the hell is wrong with you?""How long has this been going on?!""What in Shiva's name are you talking about? Babe, I swear, I'm not fooling around with Noctis."Noctis stamped his foot. "I am Noctis!""...what? You musta hit your head hard babe.""Stop calling me that!"Gladio's phone rang, cutting off any reply. Disappearing into the bedroom again, Gladio glanced at the caller name and answered with a growl."Not a good time, Noct. This had better be important."Noctis voice came gasping down the phone. "Glads, thank fuck! Did you just wake up in bed with Noctis?!"Pulling the phone away from his ear, Gladio stared at it. "Why," He said slowly into the phone. "Do people keep suggesting that?!""Gladdy, babe, it's me. It's Prompto!"Prompto - Noctis?! - walked in to the room, tugging on his blond hair. "Is that Prompto?" Gladio shrugged, he had no idea. "Get him over here. And call Ignis. We need to sort this crap out and quick."On the phone, Noctis -Prompto? - replied that he head everything and would be right over.Gladio listened to the dial tone and stared at the bed he had woken up in.This was not how he had wanted his day to begin. He had kinda wanted to start the day with a blowjob.-"Let me see if j have this right." Ignis said, removing his glasses and rubbing his head. "You," He pointed at Noctis' body. "Are Prompto and you," He pointed at Prompto's body. "Are Noctis. You have switched bodies."Noctis nodded. "Yes. And he." He pointed at his own body, hesitated and then pointed at the body he was in. "Is fucking my Shield!" He pointed at Gladio who was sat at the table.Frowning, Gladio waved off the concern. "It's not a big deal, Noct. Prom and I are dating.""It is a big deal!" Noctis huffed. "I'm traumatised! I woke up with Gladio snuggling me!"Prompto perked up. "Awww, I missed snuggles?"Waving his arms, Noctis bought Prompto's attention back to him. "Please stop looking at Gladio like that while in my body.""Like what?""Like you want to kiss him." Ignis replied."...but I do want to kiss him."Noctis blanched. "If you kiss Gladio while in my body I will heave. Why didn't you tell me you and him were together?""Why didn't you tell me you had your nipple pierced?" Prompto shot back, making Gladio and Ignis raise their eyebrows at the Prince, who flushed heavily in Prompto's body.A phone rang out. Ignis and Gladio didn't remove their eyes from Noctis, but Prompto fumbled into his pocket."Oh fuck." He squeaked. "Noct, it's your dad!""Answer it!""I can't answer it!""You can't not answer it, it's his birthday!"Prompto swore violently under his breath and pressed the answer key on Noctis' phone."Hi! Um, dad. Hi."Gladio put his head in his hands to cover his eyes."Yeah, he- I'm fine, of course I'm fine. I'm- er, I'm with Ignis!" Ignis winced. "We just need to pick a few bits up and then I'll be back. Back home. To the Citadel. Where I live." Noctis stared at his friend. "H-happy birthday. Dad. Ok. Bye!"Prompto hung up and threw the phone to the sofa. He sat down heavily next to Gladio at the table who patted his hand sympathetically."Don't touch me!" Noctis yelped, making Prompto snap his arm back away. Gladio glared at the Prince. "That was shit, Prom."Raising a middle finger to Noctis, Prompto huffed. "Maybe your body is shit at lying. I was under a lot of pressure! What are we gonna do? I can't stay like this!""No you can't." Ignis said, sighing. "Prompto- I mean, Prompto's body, Noctis, and I will go to collect the cream."Gladio raised his eyebrows. "That's what you're thinking about?" He asked at the same time as Noctis muttering that he didn't want to leave Gladio and his body together."The alchemist will be the one with the most experience with the weeds we fought yesterday. And I'm assuming since His Highness and Prompto breathed in the same gas, and that is the only thing that happened to them and not to us as well, that the weeds are responsible."Prompto nodded eagerly. "Good thinking Iggy! Shouldn't we come along?"Ignis pulled an apologetic face. "I hope you aren't offended, Prompto, but I was slightly concerned about His Highness' image if you were your normal.... enthusiastic self in his body.""Nah," Gladio stood and stretched, not enjoying see a Prompto blush now that it wasn't in his own body. "I think you're more at risk keeping the bodies apart. We'll be more at risk to get caught."Ignis paused for a few seconds and then nodded. "Very well. Let's move fast."-After awkwardly trying to teach Noctis how to put in contacts and failing, the four left with Prompto's body wearing an older pair of glasses. As they left pulled up and exited the car, Gladio reached for Noctis, paused, and turned to Prompto. "You look cute in glasses." He informed him, watching as Noctis' body blushed and smiled while in front of them, Prompto's body whirled around."My mind has been though enough today, please don't make it worse!" Gladio held his hands up in surrender. "How long has this been going on for, anyway. Why didn't I know?"Prompto hurried forwards to fall instep with his own body. "Couple of weeks. We weren't really sure how it was gonna go and we didn't want to make things awkward so we figured we'd keep it low for a bit." Noctis watched in horror as a dreamy look came over his own face. "But we wanted to try and it's going well so far.""Yeah, I could tell. Must be going more than well since I woke up with a naked Gladio slung over me."Prompto grinned. "Sorry dude." He moved closer to lower his voice. "You seriously still sleep with that picture of Iggy under your pillow?""Shhhh!" Ignis and Gladio looked at them, confused. "Snoop.""Creep."They entered the shop and the alchemist bowed lowly to Prompto, who jumped in surprise. "Your Highness. Such a pleasure and honour to have you grace my shop with your presence.""Ummm." Prompto said, wide eyed. "No problem."Ignis rolled his eyes and stepped forwards. "I believe you have His Highness' commission?""Of course." The man turned and dipped down behind his desk. When he reappeared, he had a box with a large gold pot inside and smaller ones around it. Lifting the lid off each, the perfume of the flowers, subtle, delicate and slightly sweet but with a hidden tone of cut grass and lemon, filled the room. The man held the tray towards Prompto but Noctis leant forewords."It's perfect." He said, stilling when the man looked at him unimpressed, waiting for Prompto's verdict."They smell lovely." Prompto offered. "I'm sure his Majes- Umm, my dad will love it.""I wanted to ask about those weeds that surround the flowers," Ignis began, casually, while the shop keeper closed up the pots and stared to seal the box. "And their attacks."The man nodded distractedly. "Oh yes they're very interesting. Not very well documented, mind." He wrapped the box in black tissue as he spoke. "The liquid they shoot is acid, as far as the hunters can tell, and although they seem to be rooted in place, when agitated they appear to grow up to six feet tall.""And, the gas?""Well, I've only ever heard rumours," The alchemist laughed, using a wide black ribbon to tie the tissue in place. "Some hunters have woken up a few days later, no idea where they've been. I once heard a hunter became his Chocobo! But obviously that's ridiculous."He laughed and looked up to see his guests exchanging long looks. Clearing his throat, he held the box out to Prompto who hesitated before gingerly accepting it. "And, the Chocobo hunter?" Gladio asked.The alchemist blinked at him. "Well, they told me they gave him a Maidens Kiss and he was back to normal. But like I said, it's a ridiculous rumour." He turned to smile at Prompto. "Thank you so very much for your business, Your Highness. Please come again!"-Outside of the Citadel, the four gathered in a thicket of trees. Ignis held the black parcel while Gladio handed Noctis and Prompto a set of Maidens Kiss each."Cross your fingers and prey to the Astrals." He said as he handed them over and took a step back. Prompto and Noctis looked at eachother and tapped their glasses together. "Good luck dude." Noctis said as they unsealed their bottles."You too."They downed the drink at the same time and, for a long moment, panic settled across their faces as nothing changed."Do we have to go to sleep again?" Prompto asked. "Noct is better at napping than me!""Try closing your eyes?" Ignis urged. "Or touching?"Noctis frowned but obediently closed his eyes tight. "I'm not gonna be happy if I have to kiss you, Prom."When he opened his eyes, he was hit by nausea. He was facing the wrong way from where he had just been and, standing in front of him, was a dazed looking Prompto.Noctis grabbed his face while Prompto's hand shot to his hair. "It's me! It's you!" Prompto cried, jumping into Noctis' arms and hugging him. "I've never been so happy to see your face, Prompto!"Ignis sagged in relief. "Oh thank the gods. I was not looking forward to explaining this to your father.""Shit, I better make a move." Noctis said, looking for his watch that Prompto had obviously not put on that morning. "I feel ok, Prom, are you-"He cut off and pulled a face, as he turned to speak to his friend but came face to face with the blond wrapped up in Gladio's arms and kissing him."Gross." Turning away, Noctis took the parcel from Ignis and smiled. "They seem fine, wanna come with?""I would be delighted, Your Highness."Gladio dimly registered them leaving, keeping Prompto in place with one arm around his waist and a hand cupping his face securely. Prompto was up on his tiptoes, gripping the front of Gladio's shirt. Pulling away, Gladio rubbed his thumb across Prompto's freckled cheek."I'm glad they know.""Me too." Prompto grinned at him wickedly. "Promise I won't ever find out you were in bed with Noctis again?""Urk, shut up!"
11352732	with roots that reach	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Deidara (Naruto), Inuzuka Kiba, Hidan (Naruto), Sasori (Naruto), Hoshigaki Kisame, Zetsu (Naruto), Uchiha Obito", "Fandom": "Naruto", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by blackkat", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-30T00:00:00", "words": "5,789", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Akatsuki!Kiba, Humor, Friendship, Everybody Swears A Lot, Obito is a troll, he only appears for about .2 seconds and he's still a troll, Flirting, Kind Of, it's Hidan what do you expect?, Deidara's hate-boner for Itachi, Sasori is also lowkey a troll", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Deidara/Hidan (Naruto), Deidara & Hidan & Inuzuka Kiba", "Series": "in dreams you follow (but I dream in the dark)", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Deidara is so fucking glad that he isn’t the baby of the group anymore.It is, granted, slightly irritating to have his record as the youngest recruited Akatsuki member broken by a little shrimp who seems more puppy than human most of the time, and who is currently two days over thirteen, but Deidara’s spent the last year listening to infant jokes and he’s sick of it. Inuzuka, at least, is young and looks it, enough so that he’s taken to playing the civilian child on missions when they need a decoy.Deidara can barely remember being that age, honestly.He keeps his eyes on his grilled mackerel, trying his best to ignore the rest of the table. For the most part they all eat what they want, when they want, but Kakuzu’s probably the only decent cook among them, and when he makes dinner it’s pretty much inevitable that everyone congregates. It’s aggravating, and Deidara hates having to see all of their faces, especially all at once, but there always comes a point when he’s so desperate for unburned food that he can bear it for the half hour it takes to eat.The others are being especially annoying tonight, with the brat in their midst. Konan isn’t hovering, not really, but she was the one to portion out the food and she made sure that Kiba got his first. It’s more than a little freaky, and Deidara wonders if it’s a biological clock thing. Not that he’s dumb enough to actually say that, and despite how stupid some of the others can be, they're definitely not bringing it up either, outside of a few incredulous glances when Konan's back is turned.Pein is the only one who doesn’t look bewildered about all of this, and Deidara is pretty sure that’s because he doesn’t have facial expressions to begin with.Still, it would be easier to bolt his food down and ignore the others if they’d stop being morons, Deidara thinks, bristling when Hidan knocks into him as he rants at Kakuzu about heathens. Kakuzu is pointedly looking the other direction, to where Pein is picking at his food, and there's a rant of his own brewing about wasting money on food that doesn’t even get eaten. Konan is an ocean of calm as she sips her tea, Zetsu laughing darkly at her elbow at something in the story he’s trying to tell a grinning Kisame and a stone-faced Itachi about a couple of prostitutes in Tani. Sasori keeps attempting to sneak glances at Kiba's notebook full of poison combinations, and the brat is at least aware enough to notice, if the way he hunches over the paper and growls is any indication.Gods, Deidara hates all of them.He’s working on the last of his rice, mind already on the figurines he wants to sculpt—explosive, of course—when there's an irritated snarl from across the table, and Kiba stuffs his notebook away in a jacket pocket before Sasori can get another look at it. With a dark glare at the puppeteer, he tugs his rice closer and demands, in a clear change of subject, “So what’s up with the creepy asshole in the basement?”Deidara blinks, caught off guard, but before he can say anything Hidan huffs. “Basement?” he demands. “What fucking basement?”“We don’t have a basement, un,” Deidara confirms, because that’s the kind of thing he would know after a full year here. This is their main base, and Deidara has explored most of it.“I'm more interested in the creepy asshole part,” Kisame says, laughing. “Hey Zetsu, you sure the kid didn’t run into you in the middle of the night?”Zetsu makes a rude noise. “More likely that he ran into you or your creepy partner,” he retorts, and Itachi levels a dark look at him that doesn’t even make him blink.Kiba rolls his eyes like they're all stupid, an edge of teeth showing behind his lips. Deidara’s met enough starving dogs to know that that expression isn’t supposed to be a smile. “You're really so stupid that you can't even find the basement? It’s three levels down and it fucking reeks, okay. Smells like someone was tortured in there.”A flicker of movement draws Deidara’s eye, just in time to see the wide smile returning to Zetsu’s face. There's a darkness to his gaze that wasn’t fully there before, but honestly, Deidara doesn’t want to know. Well, not about that, at least.“You're lying, un,” he snaps, glaring at the puppy. “We don’t have a basement.”Hidan stabs a finger at the younger boy, expression triumphant. “And if we did, why would you have been the one to find it?”Kiba eyes him like he’s especially stupid. “Because I'm not an idiot?” he repeats incredulously. “It’s not like I could make up an entire sublevel, okay? There's a weird room with a throne and a bastard who likes to hide in the shadows and piss people off.”“A throne?” Deidara has definitely never wandered into that level before, but that sounds so random and unexpected he can't help but be curious.“Who the fuck would even have a throne in this trash heap?” Hidan wants to know. He eyes Kakuzu, who glares right back, clearly unamused by the implication.“Made of gold?” is all Kakuzu asks.“Wood,” Kiba corrects, and that’s slightly less interesting, though the sheer fact that there's a throne in a secret room on a hidden sublevel is enough to keep Deidara’s attention even so.Clearly Hidan isn’t deterred by the plainness, either, if the way he’s shoving to his feet is any clue. “Show me,” he demands, planting his hands on the table. “If there’s a torture chamber, I want to see.”Well, Deidara’s hardly about to let Hidan beat him to seeing the supposed creepy throne, so he bolts up as well, ignoring the way his chair topples over with a crash. “Not without me, un! I bet it’s just a big chair in a dark room, and you're lying to make yourself seem cooler!”Kiba snarls at both of them, though he glares at Deidara pointedly. “I'm not making it up! You're just pissed you didn’t find it on your own!”Deidara glares right back. “I've been a member for a year, un! I know everything about this base!”“You do not,” Kiba scoffs. “If you did you’d know exactly what I'm talking about—hey! Fuck you, put me the hell down, you bastard!”Hidan hauls him bodily out of his chair, dangling by the back of his shirt, and ignores the kicks Kiba slams into his ribs. “Come on, heathen, we’re going exploring.”Not to be outdone, Deidara follows at Hidan's heels as the older teenager stalks out of the kitchen, still carrying Kiba by the back of his coat. The rest of the group just watches them go, various shades of amused, but Deidara ignores them in favor of jabbing Kiba in the side and ordering, “You're going to show us, un!”Kiba snaps his teeth at him, grabs for one of his long knives, and takes a swipe at Hidan's hand. Hidan jerks back—they all saw what those blades did to that one bounty Kiba and Konan dragged back last week, and even someone as immortal as Hidan would be wary of that—and drops Kiba with a curse. The boy hits the ground on all fours, twists in a way that’s more like a dog than a human, and gets back to his feet in one sharp motion. In an instant his other knife is out, too, and he’s eyeing both of them like he’s ready to throw himself at them headlong, just for the sake of starting a fight.“You could have just fucking asked,” he spits. “Keep your hands to yourself or you're going to lose your fingers, got it?”Deidara can't help but grin. The puppy’s got teeth and spirit, and Deidara can appreciate that, especially in a brat. “We’re missing-nin,” he scoffs. “We don’t ask permission, un. If you want manners, run back to your village, puppy.”Something dark and furious slides across Kiba's face, and for an instant it takes effort for Deidara not to step back. It’s a stark reminder of the rumors Sasori passed on, the whispers of a man with a taste for young boys who was too powerful for Konoha to care. So powerful that the circumstances of his death didn’t matter, regardless of the whispers, so a twelve-year-old genin ended up a missing-nin for defending himself.Deidara left Iwa for his own reasons, and he wasn’t forced out. But…Kiba's story, if it’s true—and he thinks it is, given just how angry Kiba seems all the time—is one that makes him unspeakably glad he abandoned his village. All the Hidden Villages are the same, and Deidara’s had enough experience with the old warhawks who make up the majority of the leadership to know that the same thing could easily have happened in Earth Country. They get away with whatever they want because of their age and status and service, and everyone else suffers for it.He wonders how long Konoha turned a blind eye to what Danzō was doing, whether Kiba was the first, and then firmly shuts that line of thinking away. It’s not important. The man is most definitely dead, and Kiba is one of them now.“I don’t have a village,” Kiba bites out, but with one more sharp look at Deidara he rocks back off the balls of his feet and shoves his knives into their sheathes, clearly recognizing that Deidara isn’t about to start anything. Deidara’s glad, because they have better things to do than teach the new puppy about the pecking order of the group.“Well?” Hidan says impatiently, laying a hand over Kiba's head and shoving to urge him to move. It gets him a snarl, but surprisingly Kiba goes with it easily enough, turning off the main corridor that leads to the bedrooms and heading towards the training areas instead. Deidara’s never encountered much in the way of anything back there; beyond a series of empty, unused rooms, there's one section that looks like a gutted library, an extremely outdated lab, and lots of dusty passages.Kiba doesn’t lead them towards any of those, though. He takes a sharp turn off the main hall and almost seems to vanish into the wall, and it’s only after a second of squinting that Deidara manages to spot the opening. He doesn’t want to be impressed, but he’s walked this way at least three times a week since he was recruited and he’s never noticed this passage before.“Fuck,” Hidan mutters, clearly of the same opinion, and elbows Deidara out of the way to get through first. Deidara swears at him, but Pein's lectures on not using his bombs in the base—in the underground base, and Deidara will never admit it, but he kind of had a point—are clear enough to keep him from grabbing for the explosives.Only just, but still.“How the hell did you see this?” he demands, and takes great pleasure shoving Hidan into the rough stone wall.Hidan trips, catches himself, and turns with a snapped, “What the fuck was that, pretty boy?”Deidara flips his hair over his shoulder, putting on a show of preening mostly because he knows it will drive Hidan insane. “I am pretty, aren’t I? I am the prettiest boy, un. Thank you for noticing.”Kiba laughs. It’s the first time Deidara has heard him make that sound, and it’s rough around the edges like he’s forgotten how, but it’s still genuine. When Deidara raises a brow at him, he’s grinning, more humor than teeth this time.“You're a Yamanaka, aren’t you,” he tells Deidara. “No, don’t even try to tell me you're not, I won't believe anything else. That is exactly what Ino does. Did.” He grimaces faintly at that, but doesn’t let his humor waver. “Right down to the hair thing.”Yamanaka. Deidara scrounges through his memory, trying to pinpoint where he’s heard the name before. There's a vague sort of awareness that it’s one of Konoha's clans, a recollection of that old bastard Ōnoki complaining about them at least once, but otherwise he’s drawing a blank.Kiba rolls his eyes, like it’s a failing that Deidara can't call up knowledge of every shinobi clan by name. “Blond, gossipy, in love with the sound of their own voice? Usually staff T & I because they're good at mental torture?”That actually rings a bell. Deidara definitely heard Ōnoki complaining about them and their ability to ferret out spies at one point. He opens his mouth to say as much when the rest of the description registers, and he squawks in offense, grabbing for his clay. Laughing like a donkey, Hidan snatches his wrists before he can get his hands on any, using the extra centimeters he has on Deidara to stay out of range of his kicks.“Fucking bastards!” Deidara spits, jerks back hard, and kicks up, trying to get a leg over Hidan's arm to unbalance him. Sadly, he’s sparred with Hidan enough times for the other teenager to be well aware of his tricks, and Hidan spins them around, keeping Deidara hopping so he can't counter.When they spin in that direction, Deidara can see that Kiba is watching them with amusement. Head tilted faintly to one side. It’s not the angry sort of teeth-bared humor Deidara has gotten used to from the kid, but something more genuine. “You guys are fucking weird,” is the brat’s verdict.“Fuck off,” Hidan says, though without much heat. He grins at Deidara, and says mockingly, “Bombs to yourself, blondie, or Pein's going to give you his Disappointment Face again. Wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”The bastard is conveniently forgetting that Pein's Disappointment Face cows everyone in the hideout except Konan, Deidara thinks sourly, and gives him a dark look as he stops wriggling with a huff. “Fucking fine, but next time we’re on a mission together I'm going to stuff a grenade down your damned throat, asshole!”Hidan grins like he’s looking forward to it, and lets Deidara go. Winding up, Deidara throws a quick, hard punch into the asshole’s ribs, then ducks back out of range and rounds on Kiba. “Well, un? Are we going or not?”Kiba eyes them both for another moment, then shrugs. “Sure. Creepy hole in the ground, here we come.”Scoffing, Hidan falls into step with Deidara, lazily crossing his arms behind his head. “You never answered the question, brat. How the hell did you know this was here?”The look Kiba gives them might as well be subtitled are you really that dumb, and it makes Deidara bristle right back. Ignoring that pointedly, Kiba makes a face, wrinkling his nose. “You really can't smell anything? It reeks like chemical death down here. There's a crack up to the next floor, and it’s seeping upwards. I just followed it.”Huh, Deidara thinks, watching the boy slip through the shadows ahead of them. He’s heard that the Inuzuka are so close to their nin-dogs they might as well be canines themselves, but he hadn’t thought they actually were. “Inuzuka have good noses? I thought it was just your dogs, un.”“Best in Fire Country,” Kiba says, lips pulling away from his teeth in a grin that’s equal parts pride and threat. A pause, and he huffs and admits, “Well, now that the Hatake aren’t a big clan anymore. But they're not like us anyway.”Everyone in Iwa knows about the Hatake, and if he had an ounce more loyalty to his old village Deidara would spit. Hatake Sakumo was one of the main fighters in the Second Shinobi War, and Iwa’s never forgotten him or his son.Still, Deidara’s not an Iwa nin anymore, and he doesn’t give a damn about old grudges except when he can rub them in Ōnoki’s dumb old face. He ignores the flicker of old instinct to bristle, and instead asks, “Different, un? Like you're different kinds of dogs or something?”Kiba makes a derisive sound. “What? No. The first Inuzuka was raised by feral dogs, and ended up way closer to a couple of summons than a normal summoning contract would let someone be. We’re like…half dog? Kind of? But in spirit, so not really.”Clan bullshit, Deidara decides, rolling his eyes. Iwa had a couple of clans like that, too. Lots of mystical old legends and revered history and looking down on the clanless orphan whose biggest talent was blowing shit up in impressive ways.“Thought Inuzuka never left their nin-dogs behind,” Hidan says, and his eyes are bright in the way they get when he’s hit on an opening in someone’s defenses that will let him go for the killing blow. He’s such an asshole, Deidara thinks, annoyed, and kicks him hard in the shin. Not that he cares about upsetting the brat, but Konan might, and Konan is a hell of a lot scarier than Hidan no matter the circumstances.And, predictably, all the humor disappears from Kiba's face like it’s been wiped away, leaving cold fury behind it. Deidara thinks he can catch a flash of grief in there was well, but it’s so deeply buried he can't be sure it’s not something else entirely. Kiba turns away, back stiff, shoulders set, and stalks down the corridor. “Yeah,” he bites out, not looking back at them. “They don’t.”Knowing that Hidan isn’t done being a little bitch, Deidara grabs for a kunai, only to have Hidan slap a splayed hand over his face and shove him back. He yelps, tripping over an uneven patch of floor, and has to windmill his arms to stay upright. “Motherfucker—”“So where’s yours?” Hidan says, loudly enough to be heard over Deidara’s cursing.Kiba gives him a look that’s somewhere between hostile and disbelieving, but he does come to a stop again, turning to face Hidan. There's an edge of teeth showing, but he’s not going for any throats, so Deidara fingers his kunai and plots his revenge. It’s going to involve lots of explosives and even more interrupted sleep for Hidan, he already knows that much.“I left Akamaru in the village,” Kiba says, like he’s daring Hidan to make something of it. “He was a part of everything, and I didn’t fucking want him with me anymore.”Truth, Deidara thinks, a little surprised by that. He can't see any trace of a lie in Kiba's expression, and the kid’s poker face is still pretty terrible. He really did abandon the nin-dog he was raised with in favor of getting the hell out of Konoha. Not that Deidara can blame him for that. Maybe Kiba feels that the dog played a part in his situation, and just…couldn’t deal with its presence anymore.With a snort, Deidara hooks a foot around Hidan's ankle, slams a shoulder into his ribs, and knocks him over. The bigger man tries to retaliate, but Deidara is too quick, and he goes down with a loud curse, hitting the floor like the sack of shit he is. Deidara primly steps around his flailing limbs and passes Kiba. “I’m sick of talking about this crap. Where the fuck are we even going, un?”Kiba snorts, and he leaves Hidan behind without so much as a backwards glance as the Jashinist hauls himself back to his feet. “Down. Just stay to the left and the hall will open right into the room. It’s—” He breaks off suddenly, frowning, and tilts his head. “Do you hear that?”Deidara blinks, but goes silent, trying to pick out anything beyond Hidan's curses. “We’re S-rank criminals living in a secret base, un,” he points out. “People aren’t going to break in unless they're fucking stupid.”“Since when has that ever stopped anyone?” Kiba mutters, which is a decent point. The kid shakes it off, though, turning back to the hall and quickening his steps.“How the hell far down does this even go?” Hidan complains, catching up and casting a dirty look at Deidara, who smirks right back. “If you got lost, bitch—”Kiba snarls. “Like fuck I'm lost! It’s not like that’s even possible with how it reeks down here, but I can follow my own scent, okay, and I was just down here yesterday.”Deidara still can't smell much of anything beyond the omnipresent scent of dirt and age, but he’s heard enough about Inuzuka noses that he isn’t going to dismiss Kiba's words. They might be criminals, but they're also S-rank, and Deidara likes to think that means a certain amount of intelligence.Well, in most of them.It’s getting darker the deeper they go down, the lights on the wall growing fewer and further between. The shadows stretch until light is less common than darkness, and Deidara feels a flicker of unease slide down his spine. Despite his words to Kiba about overreactions, he’s willing to admit—if only to himself—that the less traveled corners of the base can get pretty unnerving, and the dust down here is so thick Deidara can see the footprints from Kiba's first trip in every patch of light. It’s entirely silent beyond the sound of their steps, and Deidara has to fight the urge to pull his kunai back out.“Feels like a fucking crypt,” is Hidan's verdict, muttered like even he is reluctant to break the hush completely.“You’d know, bastard,” Deidara retorts, but his heart isn’t entirely in it. A glance back as they pass another light shows that Hidan is frowning, dark eyes flickering over the bare walls. He’s not carrying his scythe, but—From behind them, there's a sound.Deidara whirls, momentarily blinded by blond hair, and stares back the way they came with his heart beating a little too fast for composure. He holds his breath, listening, and not even Hidan says anything as he and Kiba both strain their ears as well.After several long moments of nothing, Deidara lets out a slow, measured breath. “Fuck,” he mutters, because there's nothing, but he could have sworn—Kiba takes a deep breath, head tilted up to catch the faint flow of air down the passage, and Deidara can just make out the narrowing of his eyes in the gloom. Another breath, the sound of it clear, and Deidara shifts impatiently and demands, “Well? Do you fucking smell anything, dog boy?”Kiba glares at him, though the expression is ruined a moment later when he sneezes. “You mean something besides cave and death? Not right now.”Hidan scoffs, though he doesn’t look away from the passage leading back up. “Let’s fucking go. We’re here to see the torture chamber, not start twitching at shadows.”That was not a shadow, and Deidara is absolutely certain he did hear something. There's nothing obvious right now, though, so he mutters a threat at Hidan and reluctantly keeps walking. Even so, instead of looking forward he now has most of his attention on the way they came. The darkness feels a lot heavier than it did a moment ago, and Deidara doesn’t like it at all.Creepy is an understatement down here, and mysterious thrones in forgotten rooms are rapidly losing their draw.“Almost there,” Kiba says, like he can feel it too. Judging by the way his face is screwed up, the smell must be getting stronger.Three steps around the next corner and suddenly it’s strong enough for Deidara to smell, too. Grimacing, he presses a hand over his nose. It’s not quite a death-smell, at least not to his nose, but it’s definitely reminiscent of rot and stagnant air. Rotting what he couldn’t say, and doesn’t really want to know.Somewhere down the tunnel, there's a thud. It’s quiet, like a sandal catching a lip of uneven stone in the floor, but the sound of it echoes clearly through the hall, and Deidara and Kiba both freeze. Hidan grabs for the scythe he isn’t carrying, aborts the movement with a curse, and a moment later abruptly stops himself as he reaches for a rock on the tunnel floor.Normally Deidara would find this grounds for long-term mocking. Right at this second, though, all he does is grip the kunai in his hand a little tighter and try to remember just how much explosive clay he’s currently carrying. Not enough for his peace of mind, that’s for sure.“This creepy guy,” Hidan says carefully. “Exactly how creepy are we talking here?”Kiba's looking a little wild around the eyes. “On a scale of one to ten? A solid ‘deranged laughter in a dark room that smells like death’. Oh, and he vanished into thin air, too.”“You guys are both pussies,” Hidan scoffs, though Deidara notices that he’s not racing back the way they came to confront whatever’s there, either.“I'm sorry, who’s the person who came back down here voluntarily just because you assholes wanted to sightsee?” Kiba snaps, then spins on his heel and stalks determinedly towards where the tunnel branches right. There's practically no light beyond, and the shadows seem to swallow him whole in an instant.There's no way in hell Deidara’s going to let a puppy show him up. He hisses out a curse on Kiba's parentage and follows, making a face as he walks right into a wave of chemical-and-rot scent. This is really making him glad his nose isn’t any better, and from Hidan's quiet swearing he feels the same.“At least,” Deidara mutters in an attempt to convince himself this was a good idea, “this is better than sitting there looking at that Uchiha bastard’s fucking face.”Hidan cackles, loud in the silence and echoing off the walls. “Yeah, I bet you’d like to fuck his face, pretty boy.”Surely, surely Pein won't mind if Deidara blows Hidan up a little bit. Just partially. The asshole will put himself back together again eventually. Deidara closes his eyes and pictures it, the perfect art of one of his best explosions and Hidan's body parts going flying, the blood splatter, the scream—“I wouldn’t touch that fucking creep with a fucking barge pole,” he snarls, bristling. “He’s such a smug asshole and I hate his guts! And even if I didn’t, he’s not that fucking pretty!”“Itachi?” Kiba asks from the shadows right in front of them, and Deidara will deny to his dying day the way he practically levitates off the floor in surprise.“Don’t fucking do that!” he screeches, rounding on the boy. “I'm going to fucking blow you into paste!”Kiba looks entirely unimpressed, ignoring the threat completely. “What, is Sasori more your type?”Deidara opens his mouth to deny it loudly, then pauses, considering. “Danna? Eh. He’s definitely pretty enough, un. I like sex, though, and Danna’s not into it. He’ll do the one-night thing sometimes, but it wouldn’t be enough for me.”Hidan makes a thoughtful sound, and when Deidara glances over the Jashinist is eyeing him, assessing and vaguely interested.Kiba takes one breath in Hidan's direction and recoils. “Ugh, fuck, keep you pheromones to yourself, asshole!”Rolling his eyes, Hidan pushes past. “Fuck you, I'm not taking that from a brat who hasn’t even hit puberty yet.”“I have too hit puberty!” Kiba protests loudly, and his voice cracks halfway through.Deidara snickers, nudging the kid on. He suddenly feels like maybe this whole thing isn’t a disaster after all. Hidan is an asshole, but he’s an attractive asshole, and if that look meant what Deidara thought it did—Kiba grabs him by the back of his shirt just in time to keep him from tumbling over the edge of a short drop, and Deidara yelps, recoiling.As soon as he’s on solid ground, he grabs the edge of the tunnel mouth, looking out over the wide cavern. There are massive roots strung throughout it, vague shadows in the darkness, and vague spots of light along the walls that don’t do much of anything except make the shadows darker. The whole thing abruptly brings the creepy factor back into focus, and instinct keeps Deidara’s voice low as he asks, “This is it?”Kiba nods, leaping lightly down from the ledge to land on one of the roots. When Deidara follows him, he points towards the far wall and says, “That’s definitely a throne.”It’s certainly not anything else, Deidara allows. A wide chair, grimly eerie in the darkness, with detached cables lying around the bottom, and the size of it would dwarf a normal man. Part of the aura of menace, Deidara assumes, and wonders who the hell would put something like that in a place like the Mountains’ Graveyard.“Weird fucking place for a throne,” Hidan says, standing on a twisted root above them. He’s looking around with interest, and Deidara can just make out the glint of his pendant in the gloom.Deidara snorts in agreement. “Not a lot of worshipful followers out here, un,” he agrees. It’s possible that Akatsuki should count, what with Pein, but like fuck Deidara is ever going to worship at anyone’s feet.“So you guys have never seen this place before?” Kiba asks. He jumps down, landing with a quiet thud on the floor, and straightens. “There's a bed over there.”“Fucking weird,” Hidan repeats, hopping down to join Kiba. After a moment’s hesitation and a glance back at the mouth of the tunnel, Deidara follows. He’s just being paranoid, he tells himself. There's no way the tunnel will close on them, and even if it does, Deidara is from Iwa. He learned Doton jutsus before he learned to hold a kunai. And he’s carrying explosives. There's nothing that could trap them down here.“A throne and a bed on a pedestal?” he asks, and despite the thread of unease he can't help but feel amused. “Someone has delusions of grandeur, un.”Kiba snorts. “Yeah, except it smells like someone was tortured in here,” he reminds them. “I swear, T & I in Konoha smells exactly like this.”Deidara isn’t about to doubt the kid with the dog nose, because it’s already unpleasant enough for him without any enhanced senses.“No torture implements,” Hidan points out, and he actually sounds disappointed about it.“You don’t need implements to torture someone.” Kiba touches the hilt of one of his knives, mouth curling in what could be a snarl or a smile, and Deidara’s reminded again of the look on Sasori’s face when he mentioned the kid Pein and Konan had gone to recruit. Amusement, just a little, and something that might have been respect. Sasori’s fond of people who get results, especially when they use poison to do it, and whatever clan Kiba stole his formulas from is one Sasori has a lot of interest in. Those facts together mean Sasori objects to Kiba's existence less than he does to most people’s, and that alone would make Kiba scary, even without his age and what he’s already managed.“True,” Hidan agrees, cheered. He takes a step towards the bed—Footsteps.Deidara stiffens, spinning to look for the source, but with the echo in here he can't pinpoint it. Kiba's also gone tense next to him, hunkered down like he’s about to spring forward on all fours, and Hidan's bristling as if he’s trying to make himself twice his normal size.“What the fuck,” Deidara wants to know, though he keeps his voice down.Kiba growls, low and rumbling. “I swear, if it’s that bastard skulking in the shadows again—”A laugh, low and full of menace and entirely unexpected, far too close, and Deidara shrieks. He’s somehow attached to Hidan's shoulder without even remembering moving, and the killing intent in the air is so heavy and thick, full of malice, that not even Hidan hesitates. He grabs Kiba by the furry collar of his coat and books it back towards the tunnel, clearing the roots in a chakra-propelled and adrenaline-fueled leap. When his feet hit the stone he stumbles once, but then he’s bolting towards the surface with Deidara clinging to his back like a monkey and Kiba flailing as he’s dragged along. They skid around a corner, almost crash into a wall, redirect, and—A face, pale in the shadows and abruptly in front of them, and there's a chorus of shrieks and yells as Hidan trips over himself and they all go crashing to the ground in a heap. Deidara’s head bounces off the wall, Hidan lands on him and Kiba, and Kiba yelps, scrambling to get to his knives under the weight of Hidan's bulk even as the Jashinist flattens him completely.Sasori just stares down at them, entirely emotionless, and then slowly raises one red brow.“Danna,” Deidara wheezes, his heart currently moving at roughly the same speed as a hummingbird on methamphetamines. “Danna, fuck you with a sharpened glaive, okay, un.”It’s possible that Sasori’s mouth twitches. “If you're quite done?” is all he says, though.“What are you even doing here?” Kiba demands, and as soon as Hidan pulls himself up he scrambles to his feet. “Besides laughing in the dark like some kind of asshole?”Sasori blinks. “I wasn’t laughing,” he says mildly, “though your faces just now would make anyone want to.”Oh gods. That is not something Deidara needed to know. He turns, looking back the way they came, just as Hidan demands vehemently, “Then who the shitting fuck was fucking down there?”“A mystery,” Sasori says, and that’s definitely amused and just as definitely unappreciated. “Pein didn’t seem concerned, so I assume it’s something he knows about.”“Fucking hate you all,” Kiba mutters, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Shit.”There's a smirk growing on Sasori’s features. “I take it you found what you were looking for?”That’s fucking it. Deidara stands up, brushes himself off with all the tattered dignity he has left, and stalks back towards the main part of the base. “I'm going to go blow shit up and if anyone fucking disturbs me, I'm turning them into art, un. Only warning.”“Hey, pretty boy!” Hidan calls, but Deidara is not in the mood, and he flips the bastard off without looking back and heads for his room at double-time.Whoever was down there was absolutely fucking with them, and someday Deidara’s going to find out who it was and stuff a kilo of explosive clay right down his fucking throat.
11380830	Privychki	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta", "Fandom": "僕のヒーローアカデミア \| Boku no Hero Academia \| My Hero Academia", "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by kamifusen", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-02T00:00:00", "words": "549", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Curtain Fic, smoking sero gives me life", "Relationship": "Kaminari Denki/Sero Hanta", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "BNHA Social Media AU", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	— Прекрати курить в постели.Совместное проживание имеет недостатки — зачастую некоторые привычки совершенно невозможно игнорировать.— Прости, — выразительно изгибает бровь Сэро. — Наверное, я забыл спросить у тебя разрешения, — говорит он с беззлобной усмешкой.Каминари закатывает глаза, подбираясь ближе, и стаскивает с себя футболку. На лице Сэро так и читается удовлетворение — такое бывает у котов, когда им наливают полную миску молока. Потребовалась уйма времени, прежде чем Каминари научился спокойно находиться в одной комнате с Сэро, будучи обнажённым. До этого у них ушёл целый месяц, чтобы съехать на одну квартиру, до этого — серьёзные разговоры с родителями, но ещё раньше — долгая конфетно-цветочная (вернее, переписочно-лайковая) пора с узнаванием поближе, разговорами в чате до самой ночи, а чуть позже и с посиделками в кафе, поцелуями на задних рядах кинотеатра и затяжными ссорами, которые брались из ниоткуда. Они и сейчас могут препираться — вот так, по привычке. И хоть Каминари считает себя человеком исключительно неконфликтным, даже у него не получается идеально уживаться с Сэро. — Серьёзно, хватит, — бормочет Каминари. — Ненавижу, когда дымят. — У меня есть свои привычки, — пожимает тот плечами и делает затяжку.Конечно, у Сэро есть свои привычки. В конце концов, он взрослый и старше Каминари на целых четыре года — разница, временами напоминающая марианскую впадину, которая разделяет их друг от друга.У Сэро много привычек: он мог оставлять пустые рулоны туалетной бумаги, не заменив их на новые, забывать Гималайи грязной посуды в раковине, или курить где угодно, в том числе и в помещении, совершенно не заботясь о том, что доставляет кому-то неудобство. И не то чтобы он делал это специально — Каминари знает, что тот не со зла, — но всё же.Для человека, который ведёт кулинарный канал и питается исключительно веганской пищей, у Сэро есть совершенно дурная привычка.— По-хорошему ведь прошу.С этими словами Каминари аккуратно перехватывает сигарету, которую Сэро не успевает поднести ко рту, и обиженно смотрит.Сэро поджимает губы.— Ну что опять не так? — он обхватывает его за талию, пальцами касаясь мягких ягодиц, обтянутых боксёрами, и настойчиво притягивает к себе. Каминари упорно отказывается смотреть ему в глаза.— Должен ли я чувствовать себя виноватым?— Да.— Хорошо. Я виноват, — улыбается Сэро и продолжает заискивающе ловить чужой взгляд. — Обещаю больше не курить в постели. Так пойдёт?Каминари наконец-то отрывается от созерцания прикроватной тумбочки и глядит на него с крошечной искоркой обиды.— Сколько раз ведь уже обещал, — дуется он.— В этот раз точно — не буду. Клянусь! Зуб даю!Каминари добреет, не сумев сдержать смешка — возле уголков его глаз собираются складки.— Сдался мне твой зуб.— Не нравится? Могу предложить что-нибудь другое, — Сэро чуть поводит носом по коже на животе, отчего Каминари становится щекотно. — Зубы не единственное моё достоинство.— Как насчёт нового блюда, которое ты готовил на своём канале?Сэро чуть откидывает голову.— Вау. — выдыхает он. — А ты правда смотришь все мои видео.— Разумеется, я смотрю твои видео, — Каминари проходится по его волосам, прибирая прядки в одну сторону. — Почему ты все время так удивляешься? — спрашивает он с лёгким налётом раздражения.— М. Порой мне трудно поверить, что мы встречаемся. А ты хочешь, чтобы я поверил в то, что ты был когда-то моим фанатом?— Я и есть твой самый преданный фанат.— Жуть, — понарошку ёжится Сэро. — Никогда больше не произноси этого вслух.— Только если ты бросишь курить, — не сдаётся Каминари и чуть подаётся вперёд, чтобы потушить сигарету об пепельницу.— Хорошо, — соглашается Сэро без боя. — Как скажешь.С Каминари вообще трудно спорить — особенно когда он без одежды.
11358342	Spiral	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Harold Finch, Sameen Shaw, John Reese, Root \| Samantha Groves", "Fandom": "Person of Interest (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by hakura0", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-30T00:00:00", "words": "877", "Additional Tags": "Second Person, rambling train of thought, all pairings are mostly implied, but there", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Harold Finch/John Reese, Root \| Samantha Groves/Sameen Shaw", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	You wonder, sometimes, why John wasn't a number. Why there wasn't enough intent directed at what he had been planning. It had been close, John told you later, the two of you aching and sore in a whirlpool tub in some hotel out of state. It isn't the answer to the question you had asked, wasn't an answer that you'd wanted. He changes topics like changing the channels on a television, but, despite the warmth of the water you're already cold.The movies are wrong, you think, as John steps in front of a bullet for you. Having someone who would do anything for you isn't romantic. It's terrifying.The world can't afford to lose you, he had told you once. There had been something in his eyes, in his throat, even though he'd made himself leave. For however short a time.His blood is on your hands like so much more, less theoretical than the others. It stains your suit. Ruins his own custom Italian suit, and you can't think of the ease that had settled back down upon you both that afternoon; the sun bright and the smell of wine in the air.The ease, you know, had everything to do with being together.His fingers threaded between yours, at the museum while you both waited for the alterations.He leans on you and says he's fine despite the bullet that just went through his chest and you wonder, heart in your throat, if you should have let him run.He's right, it turns out. At least mostly. Sameen, instead, is very much not.Root, you think, is right to blame you. Right to accuse, when you hinge onto your Machine's message for them to Stop.Not because you've given up; but because you can't stand to lose someone else, too.He catches your eyes on the healing wound more than once, and you almost wish that you could actually break his trust too.Get him to see that you are just a man. That you are guilty in all of this.The world needs you in it, too, you don't say, the words always caught too long behind parched lips.He wouldn't believe you anyway.You don't think it's fair. Not even remotely - not this. Not whatever broke, somewhere along the lines. Twisted what you thought you'd given him, a purpose - a reason to live, into something to die for.Someone.You've seen how the story plays out now; he gives his life to save you, and it kills you.It's a terrible ending, one that doesn't acknowledge the times you've tried to protect him, for all he never, ever lets you.I'd like a little equality, you tell him one night while he is fast asleep, when you're the only one who can hear.You dream that everything is fine, you dream of something like retirement. Picket fences outside of the city, and waking up to him with nothing but old scars. Of the nice young couple across the street, Sameen and Samantha who do - roller derby in the city on the weekends, because there's nothing else the world needs them to do. Bear, curled in front of a fireplace with a copy of Chaucer half eaten in front of him.Behind you? He dreams of the library.You would give anything to go back to when things were that simple too.You wake because he does, and he looks guilty for it. When you sleep again, somehow, you have a gun and and a voice in your ear telling you that to end Samaritan before it begins you have to end the man in front of you.For all you've done, for all you've asked of them to do - you still can't conscience it. Still don't know how you ever thought you could keep anybody safe.The clock ticks and there, despite your best efforts is the place where the world falls apart. Italy, you think, since it's as good of a place as any to fade back into obscurity. Italy, where you got him back. You can't count the people who have died for you any more, and you don't want to.Sameen had called you, on your way, saying something about Root that didn't make any sense. The call had dropped, but she hadn't sounded like she was in danger. Had seemed fine when you dropped Bear off with her.The flight is commercial, but you can't be bothered really with anything else. You sit at the window, turn down the cool air and pointedly ignore the seatmate you couldn't avoid. Up until they thread their fingers through yours.I really shouldn't fly right now, John tells you, is there any chance we could reschedule?You don't know whether to cry or hit him, but there is no ignoring the clammy fingers between your own.You idiot, is all that you manage and he laughs even at that, even with how scary pale he is. But he lets you help him off the plane.It isn't over, you don't think. But one page of the story is. There are two brunettes in the car that all but meets you on the tarmac.It doesn't matter how. It absolutely doesn't.
11339733	TBUniverse 5 Hi Adam	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Nicholas [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2004-08-01T00:00:00", "words": "1,645", "Additional Tags": "Relationship(s)", "Relationship": "Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder/Walter Skinner", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement", "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 }	TBUniverse 5: Hi Adam TBUniverse 5: Hi Adam by Nicholas Title: TBUniverse 5: Hi Adam Author: Nicholas E-Mail: Pairing: M/Sk/K Rating: R Category: Relationship Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Alex Krycek, Walter Skinner belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use. Warnings: See TBUniverse 1 -- Hi Adam, strange how I still wonder about using this name. But really, Dear Diary still sounds too sissy to me. Nice butch and masculine terming it needs. Maybe I only avoid the irritation of actually talking to myself though...who knows. And who cares. Last night. What made me do it? I don't know. Fox and Walter were out, meeting someone, somewhere. Fox appeared to hate the thought but Walter dragged him there. At first I 'Yes!' but really it's been boring here. There was nothing on TV and so I had to do something, anything. I didn't exactly plan it, well, I didn't plan it at all. It just happened and, besides you and me, make that me and me, no-one will ever know - for as long as they aren't reading this, that is. Strikes me as odd actually that I am bored as soon as I am alone. That so has not happened before all this relationship stuff became serious, but I do miss them then. Walter's smile and this adorable (now what a cute little word...insert 'groan' here) look on Fox's face. Alas, they weren't here and I didn't want to spend my time pondering their whereabouts, so I did a little rummaging around the house, checking every nook and cranny. Read some articles in a magazine, looked at some of Walter's books to see if there was anything even remotely catching my interest...but fishing?! I mean, really, no thanks. And so, well, I found myself in front of the closet, as in, the closet, as in the closet that is off-off-off-off-limits, except for certain situations. And it should have definitely been off-off-off-off-limits for me that night because the certain someone who makes even touching the door acceptable wasn't there. Sneaky old me, curiosity inherited by that certain someone, I didn't give much of a damn about this off-limits thing, I mean, hey? Me and off-limits? I justified it with not wanting to lose touch with my true personality but you and I both know that this really is only a way of avoiding the honest-to-god truth about my nosiness. I hate it when I start to sound mysterious and metaphorical although I am only talking with myself. Screw that. That's not the place, nor the time. Right, so I opened the closet and looked at those treasures hidden within...treasures, they are, if you are so inclined. I had to shake the urge to use my slyest voice and say 'where's the baby?' while laughing like a madman. God, some days I really think I need some sort of outlet for all those crazy thoughts running through my mind. Such a horror movie scene, the right music and camera angle, and it would have been the bad boy parody in perfection. Where was I? Right, the secret closet with Fox's babystuff. It's sorta neat and still unbelievable how much different stuff has ended up there over the weeks, from tiny, tiny items such as the pacis to these man-sized incontinence pad things...diapers, they are. Not that Fox would like me to refer to them any other way. But really, I'm not inclined to make fun of Fox for all these things. It's his stuff, it's what he likes. And yeah, I like him when he's all sweet and cuddly, and when those big adoring eyes find you and regard you as the very most important person in the world. Who wouldn't like it?! Still, one can't deny the opening it leaves for jokes. What I don't understand, truly don't understand is what he gets out of it. I don't mean...hell, I do understand what he tells me but I wonder how he feels when he's like that. It's what I was pondering as I allowed my hands to touch everything in the closet: What...what does it feel like? Without realizing it really, my fingers closed around one of the pacis, actually, one of the small ones. And I popped it into my mouth. Great. I can't believe I am really writing this down, incriminating evidence and all. Holy shit but yeah, it happened, just like that. Pluck, look, pop, suck. I wonder how many people have actually tried that. You know, looked around whether no-one's looking only to have a taste and then tell the next person that it's them who are sick for doing it. I wonder, I wonder. But yeah, so I did. Blame my curiosity. Now the big wham-truth, the ultimate confession in this 'confessions of an ex-assassin' diary: drum roll gun fire It felt okay. The earth didn't stop moving, it wasn't the ultimate realization about my true nature and my needs, it wasn't all that. It felt okay. But it wasn't this one piece I have always been looking for. Actually the latex stuff (of course, I had to pick the only latex paci Fox owns) tasted like shit and yeah, it does have a taste to it - wonder how they can even dare to push those into an innocent baby's mouth - and it was damn small and, yeah. I felt stupid sucking on it. And grateful there wasn't a mirror near-by. Paci, check. Now I didn't care about the playthings, rittle-rattle bam-bams, whatever he owns. I knew how they feel in my hands, so no need to do any experimenting. But of course now, the big something that every last person on earth must be curious about, except for those poor few for whom it is a normal occurrence: what do diapers really feel like when worn?! Present test object: Alex Krycek. Right. I pulled one from the stack and looked at it. Of course I knew how all the straps would be fastened. Fox is wearing them often enough for me to be as skilled in it as any Daddy, the question was only, would I manage to put it on alone? I stepped out of my pants and made my way into the bedroom, figuring that lying down's the easiest way to wear the cuddly-doo babystuff. So I did. Powder? Please, no need to make it more complicated. I didn't intend to actually put the diaper to its intended uses, thanks very much. Scat and piss play can be found next door. Not for me. This ain't my thing. I prepared the bed, put the open diaper onto it and more or less arranged myself on it, pulling all the straps and flaps tight and there I was. Present test object: Diapered Alex. Thought number one: Damn itchy. Thought number two: Damn warm. Thought number three: And that's it? No really, that's what it's all about? That's what makes people run screaming and yell 'pervert'? Oh please?! It's nothing. It's just having something thick and warm wrapped around you. And you don' t even have to get up when you need to take a piss. What's the big deal?! Actually I was wondering that in earnest. What does this do for Fox? I lie there, waiting for the big light bulb to go on and it just doesn't happen. It remains in the dark for me. I wait for the big sensation to start spreading. And it doesn't. It's just a wad of thick cloth restricting my thighs from touching one another and cocooning my cock in sensual heat. That's all. Nothing more. Nothing less. I even moved around some, waiting for the arousal to spread in me. But it didn't. Big fucking deal. Resigned I pulled the diapers from around my hips and down my legs and sat up. 'And this does it for Fox?' was a fleeting thought in my mind as I studied this grayish wad of linen. Spooky. But it's what he likes. So who am I to come and judge him? And who am I to do it before I have even tried it? Reminds me of those D/s super wanna-be Master topdogs, the know-it-alls who get off on the weirdest shit and actually have the audacity to condemn a little baby stuff. That's what makes me sick 'cause yeah, it's strange. Yeah, it freaks me out sometimes to see Fox like that, but hey, he likes it. Hey, it's him. It's what he loves. It's what he needs. And I love him. How could I forbid him to show something that is so much a part of him? Fact is, I don't have the damn right to do it and no-one else has it either. My conclusions drawn from the last night? I'm not one step closer to discovering what makes my baby like that, but well...it's been an interesting night that made my boredom fade away. And, I am pretty sure I do not like it. Not like that. It really does nothing for me. Hah, actually I wonder what Walter would do if he had two babies at his hands...Twins! But really it's not gonna happen. I ain't biting. So, that was last night and now it's back to watching TV and having dinner and finding out which mood Fox's in tonight, it's been two days since the last time I saw him clinging to Toby...soon enough, I suppose, soon enough. And then I have my baby angel staring up at me again. A picture of that look on his face and nobody would call it sick anymore. That's what I believe. Alex. If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Nicholas
11382978	Jinae Police Department	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jean Kirstein, Marco Bott", "Fandom": "Shingeki no Kyojin \| Attack on Titan", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by pilindiel", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "1,779", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Police, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dogs, GRATUITOUS MENTIONS OF DOGS, lots of useless housing facts, Small Towns, Small Town Police Departments, police officer Jean, Police Officer Marco, POV First Person, POV Jean Kirstein", "Relationship": "Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "JeanMarco Month", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It's late. The coffee is stale and lukewarm on my tongue, but I can barely taste it over the already bad taste in my mouth. Jinae is a small town, just shy of four thousand residences, and only a handful of sites to see. It's charming in its own right; the town hall is always lit up around the holidays and the streets are kept clean, but it's one of those towns you drive through without any regard to the people who live there or their little lives and their little problems.But that means when a problem does happen, it goes to us, the Jinae Police Department.There's a smattering of pictures tacked on the cork board in front of me, sharpie marks with names scrawled under Connie and Sasha's photos with names and brief explanations. Not that I really need them. I've memorized all the broken windows, all the cracked locks. Breaking and entering, but nothing stolen. Nothing lost. Nothing misplaced. Barely a whisper of curtains disturbed.Connie got so bored at the crime scenes that he started taking pictures of the victim's dogs, all organized neatly by breed and name under the clutter of everything else.Like I said: Jinae is a slow, sleepy town with slow, sleepy problems.The rest of the station is dark save for this room; everyone else has gone home for the night but I can't stop the nagging in the back of my mind, the itch that pricks the back of my neck when there's a case I can't crack.Thankfully, I'm not the only one who can't sleep. My partner wanders in, his dark green shirt catching my attention, and his sleeves are rolled up around the muscles of his forearms. He's a stark contrast to the seventies retro brown and gray of the station décor. He's all flushed cheeks and tan skin, deep brown eyes and a strong jawline. But there's a softness to his features too, like he could bench press a tank and then offer to walk you home.“Cracked the code yet?” Marco asks, making a face after he sips from his own mug of tepid coffee-like sludge. He looks good for running on as much sleep as me; the purple bags under his eyes just draw you more to his handsome, movie-star face and the splash of freckles across the bridge of his nose. The tight leather straps of his chest holster clutch just the right amount of muscle as he shifts. I'm lingering too long, I know, but I blame my lack of sleep. My eyes skim over his thighs through his jeans before I force myself to look away, groaning. If Marco notices the flush rising up my neck he doesn't say it, and I scrub a frustrated hand down my face.Marco chuckles and slides into the empty space beside me, bumping my hip playfully. “I'll take that as a 'no',” he hums.I bump him back lightly, but I can't deny that little spark is sends up my spine, striking my nervous system with a different kind of restless energy. Pull yourself together, Jean. You're at work. I lean back and cross my arms, giving our board a scrutinizing stare and trying way too fucking hard to keep my hands to myself.“I just don't get it,” I grouse, “Why bother breaking into a house and not take anything?”Marco's earthy eyes flick to the board and I try not to stare at the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, the way his face shifts with his stony concentration, the tiny shudder of his eyebrow when I know he's onto something.I run a hand through my undercut and breathe in slowly through my nose. I need to get some sleep – clearly not getting it has made my thirst unquenchable.“Maybe we're overthinking this,” Marco mutters, meeting my startled gaze.Hastily, I take a sip of room-temperature mud and try to hide the croaking of my throat with a shrug. “What do you mean?” I ask, hoping the hitch in my voice isn't as loud as I think it is.“Maybe they weren't looking for anything,” he explains, glancing over at me before turning his attention back to the board, “Maybe they were there for something else.”I want to make a witty comment, to bring a smile to Marco's solemn face, but Marco just trails his eyes over to the pictures again and his profile is outlined by the faulty florescent lights. It stifles whatever words wanted to bubble up my throat and I find myself being dragged back to the task at hand.I chew the inside of my cheek and try to kick my scattered brain back into working condition and away from the comfort of Marco at my side.We've been partners for three months already, but it feels like so much longer. Like there's magnets beneath my skin that pull me into his orbit, that makes me quirk a smile when I don't want to. That makes me want to rub the tension between his shoulders and spend endless nights like this, just the two of us drinking a coffee-like substance at god-knows-what time while the rest of the world melts away.But we still have to work, and that motivation pulls me back into searching for patterns in the pictures.Was it the types of houses? I shake my head. No; our town is an eclectic group of craftsmans, Dutch colonials, and renovated farmhouses from when the highway was originally built.Any similarities between the victims? Again, no; ages and occupations rarely overlap and when they do, it's incidental.I jump when Marco puts a hand on my shoulder, the warmth seeping from his palm down past the fabric of my shirt and into my skin. His grip is gentle but firm and I'm just about to ask what's wrong when I follow his pointed finger to the row of photographs below all the broken glass and cracked brass, below the insurance photos of the dented wood floors and splintered doorways.“Every victim had one, right?” Marco murmurs, his voice rumbling through his chest.I flash back to the scene of the first crime, with Levi's French Bulldog – all jowls and skin and eyes that matched his owner's seriousness and disdain.I slap my hands down on the table in front of me, the weight of the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut and making me double over. Petra and Hanji: Craftsman with a Basset Hound, who's ears are so long they need to pull them back when she eats because she's too old and too tired to take care of the cumbersome things herself.My mind is whirring in full gear now as the pieces fall into place. Nile Dock: Farmhouse with a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel who is the stupidest, sweetest, and most well-behaved dog Jean has ever seen.Ymir and Historia's Australian Shepard in their townhouse; a dog who gets so excited she loses control of her tail and knocks things off their coffee table without realizing.From Pugs to Pomeranians, Dobermans to Dauchshunds, the one thing they all have in common. Colourful furs, sparkling eyes and wet noses.“Dogs,” I breathe as it hits me, “They all have dogs.” The room spins but Marco has his hand on my shoulder and suddenly I'm laughing, we both are. We've spent four days on this fucking abysmal case and the answer was staring up at us with doe-eyes and smiling faces.My stomach hurts from my cackling and usually I'd be self conscious about the sharpness of my laugh, the wheezy breathes I take, but Marco's laugh is just as bad, with his snorting and chortles and dimpled cheeks.“Can you believe it?” I gasp, “They broke in just to pet the – ?” I turn to Marco and were both breathless, both shaking with giggles and the hand he has on me tightens reflexively. His cheeks are flushed, hair tousled and I catch flecks of gold in his irises, shining with mirth.I can't help but think of how incredible he looks, how undignified and silly and breathtaking he is, and the feeling swells in my chest and stutters my heart.He leans in and the air between us catches in my throat, igniting my blood. His smile is lopsided and a little unsure, but when he pulls me in I don't hesitate, pressing us together and finally connecting those magnets that pull me in. His lips are chapped and dried when he kisses me, tasting of stale coffee and the tiniest hint of mint but he's warm and comforting and I hum softly, a little noise at the back of my throat that urges him onward.My brain wants to explode, to set off fireworks or alarms or whatever but the pounding of my heart takes over for me and lets me melt into this bliss and fade into the way Marco's thumb rubs slow circles into my shoulder, his tongue brushing languidly against mine.Of course, work never quits and at least that part of my mind is awake enough to shake me from my reverie. Not that I want it to but dammit I need to sleep, and Marco probably does, too.I try not to think too hard about those two paths crossing.“Crime first,” I mutter against his lips before pressing another peck to his cheek, “Kisses later.”Marco hums reluctantly, but he doesn't let go of my shoulder. Instead, he cocks his head to the side, and the way he breathes against my skin makes me shiver. “Is that a promise, Jean?”He grabs my jacket off the table for me, extending it to me with a playful tilt of his head before I can even respond. My brain is still on the form of his lips around my name and my heart is soaring and trying to destroy itself all at once.Well.I swallow thickly and force a smirk back at him as we race out of the office. I pull up Chief Erwin's phone number with trembling, excited fingers, and feel like my smile is going to split my face open.The text I shoot him is short but precise as we slide into Marco's sleek, black car, and it buzzes just moments later with a response. From: Jefe Pick me up. ill be ready in 5 The clock on Marco's dashboard reads four am and we're barely out of the parking lot before I'm conked out in the passenger's seat, the aftertaste of mint still on my tongue.
11345226	The Lady The Butler	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Bridgette (Miraculous Ladybug), Félix (Miraculous Ladybug)", "Fandom": "Miraculous Ladybug", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by veroxxyka", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "718", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Bridgette & Félix (Miraculous Ladybug)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Miraculous Scenarios", "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 }	Bri's POV Ever since I was little, I loved two things, one was Cinderella, the story of a prince and a princess, and the other one, was my butler, Felix. Every night, he would read me Cinderella, and he would always promised me that he would be my Prince. Well that was just fake promises to a little naive child, now I'm 17, and in school, and I'm also what you call a "slut" and a "snobby" rich kid.Because my feelings were definitely one-sided, I decided that I won't be the one to chase after him, but play around with guys, and see him get jealous, was my plan naturally. But whenever he picks me up, and he sees me flirting with guys, he only has that poker face, and it never changes, which really irritates me. What's worse, is that this upcoming Saturday, my mother is holding a party, just to introduce me to men, which she wants as my husband. It's my life, and I get to chose who I love, but I'm not an adult yet, that's why I have to be that lady like daughter figure in front of her parents, while being a slutty, delinquent at school, with exceptional grades of course. At the party, I was wearing a long red dress, with my dark blue hair down, wearing a dark shade of red lipstick, hoping that at least some of the men were handsome. As I was at the corner, sipping some champagne, I could see my mother with a dashing young man, with black hair, and green eyes, walking towards my direction."Bridgette, my darling, this is Sebastian, son of the President of a big company.""Hello Sebastian, I am Bridgette, pleasure to meet you."(When mom says big, she means I can't mess this up.)"The pleasure is all mine, my lady."As the dashing young Sebastian kisses the hand of Bri, she smiles, and he winks at her."Ms. Cheng, if I may, may we talk somewhere private?""Of course, I agree I might need a breather."(Another one that just wants to hook up with me, sure of it.)I walk into a nice room with Sebastian, and suddenly he roughly pushes me down on the bed, as I was about to tell him to slow down, he roughly strips me out of my dress, and as I try to scream, he covers my mouth and ties me up, I try to fight with all I can, but he hits me hard around my body, that I felt weak, tears formed from my eyes, is this what's it like to be rape, someone help me please.As Sebastian was about to come in me, luckily Felix came, and punch him, telling the guards to escort him away quietly. Felix came and carried me to my room, I laid on the bed, as he prepares to treat my wound."My lady, are you alright?"I stay quiet, as the situation was quite traumatic."Please stay still as I tend to your wounds.""Felix...""Yes?"I pulled Felix's tie, and brings his face close to mine, and kisses him. When I released him, he did not show any reaction, I was pissed."Get out...""My lady, I need to treat you-""I SAID GET OUT!"I slap him in the face, with tears rolling down my cheeks, as I pant in rage."I just kissed you, and I have love you for so long, but you never conveyed my feelings, all you ever did was treat me like your master, am I not good enough?! Why can't you see me as a woman?! Why?!"I break down into tears, as Felix slowly gets up, he wipes my tears away."Go away... I can't face you like this..."Suddenly, I am push down onto the bed by Felix as I look at him."F-felix...?""Bri, I have always love you, but always holding myself back.""Why...?""Because I do not wish for you to run away when you see this side of me.""Felix, I won't, I promise, please.... make love to me.""As you wish, my lady."Felix starts to lick my ears as I pant, then he starts kissing my neck."F-felix...""Hmm?""S-slow down...""Nnh..."~chu~-End-
11322294	Klondike shenanigans	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Shingeki no Kyojin \| Attack on Titan", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by EnmaRose", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-27T00:00:00", "words": "1,708", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Levi/Eren Yeager, Levi/Erwin Smith, Levi/Erwin Smith/Eren Yeager", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "M/M, Other", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It was a typical Saturday for Eren, he was forced to walk the streets of Shiganshina for work. He was tasked with asking strangers the famous question, “What would you do for a Klondike bar?” and taping their responses.The first Victim was a short blonde boy with a bowl cut and blue eyes. “Excuse me, do you have a moment?” Eren asked him.“Yah, I guess so.” The blonde replied.“Alright, can I have your name, age and what you would do for a Klondike bar?” “I'm Armin Alert, 18, and I would... ummm fail a test I suppose.” “Alright thank you.” Eren said and kept walking. The next person he ran across was his adopted sister. “Mikasa, ya gotta help me. I need you to answer a few questions for my boss. Will you?”“Yah, only because you asked though.” Eren signaled the camera man to start filming. “Excuse me ms. Can I please have your name, age, and what you would do for a Klondike bar?”“Mikasa Ackerman, Age 19, I'd kiss a girl on film.” She answered flatly. Eren's face turned fright red “O-ok thank you ma’am” he said and signaled the camera to turn off. “MIKASA! Why would you say that! You are already dating a horse faced dick bag, now your going to go around kissing girls for ice cream!”“Not that big a deal, we all know your gay, why cant I be express interest in both?” She answered. Eren knew she had a good point but he didn't want to hear it. “What ever, I gotta get back to work” Eren said walking off. After about an hour he spotted two men sitting on a bench talking. One had blond hair, neat shiny hair, and eyebrows that looked like they could be caterpillars. The second man had black hair that seemed to be placed perfectly and an undercut, his eyes also were dark and cold glancing at Eren as he approached them. “Excuse me but could I ask you a few-”“No” the man with black hair answered. “Oh come on Levi. I'm sure the kid wont take long. Plus.” the blond haired man stopped and leaned into the darker haired male's ear whispering. “Fine” The man referred to as Levi huffed. Eren signaled The cameras again.”“Can I get both of your names, ages, and what you would both do for a Klondike bar?”“I'm Erwin Smith, age 32, and this is Levi, Age, 27.” Erwin answered. “For that shitty ice cream we would fuck you.” Levi answered in a monotone voice while pulling out what looked like a business card and pen. He scribbled something down and handed it to Eren. Eren stood there shocked as they got up and left. The camera man shut everything down while laughing at Eren. After a few moments Eren regained his composure and looked at the card. It had a hotel name, room number, today date and time. Eren called his boss and explained to his boss that he wasn't feeling well and that he thought he ate a bad hotdog at lunch so he got the rest of the day off. The camera man patted Eren on his back and cheered him on.Eren decided he was going to go home and shower before changing. He changed into a nice button down shirt, nice black pants and a pair of black dress shoes. He then wrote Mikasa a note saying that he was going out on a date and wouldn’t be home till late if at all. He the grabbed his coat and walked out of the house. It took Eren about 30 minutes to walk to the hotel and three to find the room. He was still about 5 minutes early and knocked on the door. It opened quickly and Erwin was looking down on him smiling while letting Eren in.“It's good you decided to show up.” Erwin said shutting the door behind Eren. “Levi's on the bed, go join him.” Eren stepped in the spacious room, and just ad Erwin said, Levi was on the bed but not bound by any form of clothing. Levi was sitting on the bed with a towel draped across his lap. “Cloths off.” Levi growled. Eren looked down at he cloths, to Levi, then back down before turning away. Erwin was in the bathroom and coming out as Eren began to strip. Eren didn't notice Erwin as the took each article off one by one starting with his jacket, shirt, shoes, socks, pants then boxer briefs. He imminently covered himself and put his close to the side.It was then when he noticed Erwin leaning against the wall watching him. Eren stood ramrod straight, face red, and clutching his crotch. The sight made Erwin let out a low chuckle and motion to the bed. “Relax, First you should tell us your name, and age. Let Levi get you ready while you tell us.”“I'm Eren” He said climbing onto the bed not sire what to do. He he was gay but he never imagined he would be fucking to strangers. “Age 18” “Tch, Kid, your a virgin aren’t you.” Levi stated more than asked. Eren simply sat on the bed not wanting to answer that. “Fine, don't talk, just get on your hands and knees.”“W-what, why?” Stammered Eren. “Well I’m not letting a Virgin fuck me, and Erwin already said I was to get you ready.” Eren waited a moment before getting into the specified position and looking back at Levi who was grabbing a clear bottle and three condoms. He reached around Eren slipping one of the condoms on him before putting one on himself. Erwin made his way over to a chair in the corner or the room. He sat back and watched as Levi put some of the liquid from the clear bottle onto his fingers and began to rub it on Eren's asshole. Levi began to prod a single finger into Eren's hole until the muscle ring gave in just enough to easily slide in. There was a soft whine of protest as the digit invaded his hole and stretched it more than he expected. Levi didn't allow Eren much time to adjust to it before adding a second then third. He made sure not to break Eren but was still rushing. Levi needed to get off because Erwin had been denying him sex until they found a cute boy for a threesome. By the time Levi had all three fingers inside, Erwin was making his was to the night stand. Erwin quickly slipped the last condom onto himself before moving behind Levi. He took the bottle of lube and began to work Levi open.Eren was a whimpering mess when Levi pulled his fingers out and lubed his condom clad cock. Eren looked back slightly panicked as if he did something wrong. “Oi, calm down.” Levi growled out. “you should take a deep breath and try not to scream, cry, or clench down.” Once Eren took that deep breath Levi pushed himself into the younger's ass. Eren gripped the pillow roughly and clenched down on Levi instinctively. Levi stopped and made a Tch sound with his tongue. “Relax, now...” Levi demanded pushing in until he was all the way in. He didn’t move, though it wasn't for Eren but for his own selfishness. Erwin was already done prepping Levi's ass and was now aligning himself with it. Erwin then, with out warning, pushed hos whole cock in roughly. The force of Erwin pushing in forced Levi even further into Eren, causing a grown from both the bottom males. When Erwin pulled back Levi did too but a little slower causing Eren to feel the pleasure of Levi’s cock. Erwin was in full control as he pushed back into Levi causing him to crash into Eren with a fast and rough motion. The roughness caused Eren to cry out unexpectedly. Levi looked back at Erwin Nodding for him to continue like that. With each thrust from Erwin a new, louder, sound erupted from Eren's lips causing Levi's soft grunts of pleasure to covered up. Erwin on the other hand was very quiet and the same smirk on his face showed he knew exactly what he was doing. It didn't take long to make Eren cum and when he did Levi pulled out of him. “Go clean up, shower and come back.” Levi instructed. It took time for Eren to catch his breath before doing as he was told. Once Eren left to shower Erwin began to ram Levi much harder. Erwin bit, scratched, and angled himself directly onto Levi’s prostate. Mercilessly hitting the same spot over and over Until he forced Levi to cum with a low Grunt Erwin didn't stop until he had also cum.Levi quickly composed himself hand got up. He entered the bathroom with Eren, who was just about done. Once finished He left and Erwin was cleaning up the mess. “You are joining us for the night correct?” Erwin asked grabbing one of his large night shirts for Eren.“I wasn't planning to but I guess that's fine. You sure Levi wont care?” Eren asked slipping on his own underwear and putting the nigh shirt on.“He wont care, Get in bed I’ll be out soon.” He told Eren before going into the bathroom joining Levi. Eren got in bed and laid on the Side closest to the door while thinking over his decision. After deciding it was worth the ache in his nether region Levi and Erwin emerged from the bathroom all clean. Levi looked at Eren then back to Erwin. “should have warned him...” Levi Commented toward Erwin before pointing at Eren “Move,, that's my spot. You sleep in the middle.”“Levi Relax.” Erwin smiled as Eren scooted over. Eren's excessive body heat attracted the other two like fly’s to shit because the cuddled him all night long. In the morning Levi, Erwin, and Eren went to breakfast where the exchanged numbers with Eren before taking him home. Eren called into work and spent the rest of the day texting Erwin and Levi in hopes of doing it again.
11348844	Dia a dia de un florista	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Hinata Shouyou, Hinata Natsu, Kageyama Tobio, Kuroo Tetsurou, Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji, Bokuto Koutarou, Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi, Yachi Hitoka, Shimizu Kiyoko, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Azumane Asahi, Nishinoya Yuu, Kozume Kenma, Aone Takanobu", "Fandom": "Haikyuu!!", "Language": "Español", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Ladyisatramp", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "16,197", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Random ages, Random Professions, Random roles, Spin-off romances, Secret Messages, Secret Identity", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Yachi Hitoka/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Shimizu Kiyoko/Tanaka Ryuunosuke", "Series": "AU Florista Homo", "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, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Día a día de un florista" Capítulo prólogo: Mensaje en espera Entre las callejuelas de un concurrido barrio en la prefectura de Miyagi, las luces del pequeño poblado se encienden creando senderos indirectos. Los negocios comienzan la mañana abriendo sus puertas a los transeúntes, el Sol saluda con su calor al salir entre las montañas, asomándose con su gran aura. Las voces de los estudiantes que caminan revoloteando las banquetas inundan con su murmullo el silencio espectral de la noche, los que van con tiempo se dan el permiso de observar a su alrededor.Entre las curiosas cabezas se puede distinguir una melena anaranjada sin un orden, el dueño de ese loco cabello es Hinata Shõyõ, un chico realmente bajito para su edad que incluso seguido le pasa que es confundido con la bola de alumnos de las secundarias cercanas al lugar.Se abre paso entre el gentío y saca las llaves de sus desgastados jeans de mezclilla, bosteza cubriéndose la boca por educación y saluda asintiendo a su vecino de local que es dueño de una agradable cafetería. Ni siquiera parecía que fuese de él por la cara de amargado que siempre carga.Ambos al mirarse y asentir comienzan una competencia personal, es parte de su rutina. El primero en llegar a encender las luces de su negocio gana en el día. Corren como bólidos, Shõyõ tropieza entre los tablones de madera que ha dejado regados ayer y todos los tallos de las rosas que cortó para los arreglos. Cae lanzándose sobre la pared y enciende la luz con una sonrisa perspicaz. Sin embargo no ha sido lo suficiente veloz para ganar esta vez. Sin dirigirse la palabra el de cabellos oscuros celebra su victoria dentro de la infraestructura, sale a acomodar las mesas del área de jardín externo y allí se encuentra con los ojos cafés de su rival diario que sale a realizar su inventario de lunes. Suelta una risa burlona que provoca el enfado del más bajito.—¡Solo ganaste esta vez, Tontoyama!—¡Si ordenaras todo el desastre del día en la noche antes de irte, podrías tener una mínima oportunidad de ganarme.Ese fue un golpe bajo de parte del menor. Nadie podía meterse con el desorden de su negocio.—¡Deberías tener más respeto hacia tus mayores, To-bio! —Responde Shouyou con un tono de regaño con un estilo a lo maestro de jardín de niños. Si hay algo que el hiperactivo muchacho sabe hacer es devolver el golpe con el mismo impulso.—¡Solo me llevas seis meses, Hinata idiota!—Tiempo es tiempo.La pequeña discusión termina con un asentimiento. Ya deben empezar labores porque no tardaría en llegar la clientela. Pero antes de volver a sus asuntos, el dueño de la cafetería silba llamando su atención.—¡Hinata!—¿Qué pas-...? —Un paquete de papeles llega a estamparse en su cara haciéndole caer de bruces.—De nuevo dejaron tu correo aquí.—¡No tienes que golpearme con el!—Demasiado tarde.Nuevamente esa sonrisa hace aparición, dejándolo atrás con la sangre hirviendo de corajes internos. No entiende como alguien como él puede tener amigos. No entiende como puede ser su mejor amigo. En última instancia tras el inicio de los deberes toma entre sus manos el papeleo. Hay notificaciones de adeudos que vendrán además de recibos por los servicios de luz y agua, notas de cómo va el rendimiento de su hermana menor en la secundaria cercana, algunos recados en su ausencia, una carta en sobre blanco que tenía una caligrafía en dorado perfecta con su nombre de pila. Ese sobre se veía tan sospechosa, fuera de lo común. No tenía remitente ni destinatario.—Hey, Kageyama.El menor se asoma por encima de la cerca de madera pintada en blanco que divide sus patios traseros.—¿Qué?—¿De casualidad sabes quien envió esto?Muestra la carta entre sus manos. Tobio la observa de cerca sin inmutarse, intentando obtener pistas sin mucho éxito.—Ni idea.—Hmm...—Tal vez adentro diga quien la mandó.La curiosidad le mataba tanto en esos momentos que sin pensarlo abrió el sobre tratando de no ser lo suficientemente brusco para romperlo. El papel era suave con un gramaje y textura tan fino que le daría mucha pena si algo le llegara a pasar. Al abrirlo un rectángulo pequeño cae en el suelo, el chico se agacha para tomarlo mirando de nuevo la perfecta escritura en curvas de cursiva. Le maravilla lo delicado que es al tacto ya que ni siquiera llega a marcarse del otro lado de la hoja la presión del escrito. Lee con la mirada reproduciendo su propia voz dentro de su cabeza. "¿Te das cuenta de lo rápido que late mi corazón al verte todas las mañanas?" Con algo de vergüenza volvió a meter el contenido en el sobre. Sentía las mejillas calientes por tanto sabía que se trataba de un sonrojo muy evidente.—¿Qué dice?La voz de Kageyama lo devolvió al mundo real haciendo que los colores en su rostro se desvanecieran. Hinata lo volteó a ver con los ojos abiertos hasta cierto punto en shock, no quería que viera leyera "eso", de por si era penoso sólo leyendo para él mismo. Más no pudo evitarlo, el menor saltó sobre la cerca atrapando esa hoja sin que pudiera tener tiempo de reaccionar. Tobio releyó la frase para después devolverle el sobre. Ambos se miraron fijamente, Hinata esperaba la risa escandalosa del muchacho burlándose del cursi material. Sin embargo, no lo hizo, en vez de eso le hizo una pregunta.—¿Qué opinas al respecto? —La seriedad del chico le provocó ciertos escalofríos.—No sé... Nunca me han dado cartas de este tipo.Los ojos del pelinegro estallaron en algo parecido a la furia.—¿¡Cómo que nunca has recibido algo así!? ¡Tú escribes cosas como estas todos los malditos días!—¡E-es diferente leerlo a escribirlo!— No pudo evitar tartamudear. Su voz temblaba aun de la adrenalina inyectada en el ambiente— Además... ¡Yo ayudo a las personas a expresar lo que sienten! ¡No invento cosas desde cero!Su amigo resopló alejando la tensión de su voz, no era momento para ponerse histéricos. Debían resolver esta pista juntos de una forma u otra.—Bueno. ¿Qué opinas entonces? Algo debes de pensar, ¿no?La pregunta hizo eco en todos sus sentidos. ¿Qué sintió al leer ese corto pensamiento? Pues sorpresa. Sorpresa mezclada de confusión, algo de euforia. Como si sus ideas presentes se licuaran con las palabras de la hoja.—Pues creo que me sentí como...—¿Cómo qué? —Reiteró rápidamente su vecino de local analizando sus expresiones.—¡Cómo cuando metes todo en una licuadora!—¿Eh? —La cara de poema inescrutable en el más alto no había captado la analogía en lo más mínimo.—¡Sí! Así como "Fiiiiush" y luego "Gwaaaaaah" —El más bajito manoteaba intentando dándose a entender, imitando los sonidos que se formaban en su cabeza- ¡Totalmente "Whaam"! ¿Entiendes?Tobio no sabía si era una pregunta retórica o a su formidable rival se le había zafado un tornillo.—¡Claro que no! ¿¡Cómo se supone que voy a entender eso!?—No me grites, estoy justo a tu lado. Espantarás a las personas.—Ambos refunfuñaron y tras eso soltaron un largo suspiro. Así no llegarían a ningún lado, ni mucho menos descubriría la identidad del autor de aquella bonita caligrafía.— Tal vez solo se trata de una broma de algún estudiante.— No lo creo.— ¿Cómo estás tan seguro? —Cuestionó el joven florista, Kageyama era una persona desconfiada, ¿Cómo podía defender a un extraño?— Es un presentimiento.Antes de que fuera a contradecirlo otra vez, sonó la campanilla de la puerta en la entrada de la cafetería vecina. Kageyama volvió a saltar la cerca con prisa, previo a su huida al interior del confortable restaurante se detuvo para decirle algo.—Ponte alerta, dice que te ve todas las mañanas.Shouyou asintió comprendiendo el mensaje cuando se retiró. Si ponía atención, quizás hoy averiguaría de quien se trataba el remitente. Continuó con sus labores, organizando las flores en el huerto closetero del patio. Sonrió acomodando cada clase de flor, todas eran como personas, tenían diferente físico y expresaban diversos mensajes cuando acompañaban una a la otra.Era una bella forma de expresar tus sentimientos correctamente y un apoyo visual nunca hacía mal para revelarlos. Tomó las tijeras recortando los tallos en trasversal, esto las haría más duraderas entrando la temporada primaveral. Su época favorita del año, llena de luz, efusividad y el momento perfecto para recordar que estamos vivos en un mundo diverso.Recordó la frase de nueva cuenta. ¿Sería el o la autora? ¿Le diría su sentir en persona? ¿Y si no podía corresponderle cómo debía? ¿O si se trataba como pensó de una broma adolescente? Todo comenzaba a darle vueltas. Sacudió su cabeza también dándose unas palmadas en las mejillas para quitarse esas ridículas ideas.Y salió corriendo a atender a su primer cliente esa mañana. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Día a día de un florista" Capítulo uno: Distancia "¿Es posible que mi casa sea una persona y no un lugar?" —Stephanie Perkins (Un beso en parís) Hinata se sentía feliz cuando Sugawara venía a visitarle en las mañanas. El sonar de las campanillas en conjunto a su velocidad resultaban en una serie de risas por la torpeza del joven florista local cuando este cayó tras la carrera desde el patio trasero convertido en invernadero.Todos los lunes solía venir ese joven peliplateado con su encargo de un arreglo floral para colocarlo en la recepción de la guarderia donde trabaja, piensa que eso hace que los niños al entrar se sientan menos nerviosos y mucho más felices de estar allí. Aunque el pelirrojo no pensaba así, la razón por la que los pequeños adoraban tanto estar allí, era el ambiente que generaba la sonrisa del mayor. No pudo evitar lanzarse a abrazarle sobre el mostrador, cosa a la que el mayor no pudo negarse recibiendolo con los brazos abiertos. Amigos de infancia como ellos eran valiosos, ese era el mantra de aquellos muchachos.—Tan enérgico como siempre, Hinata.—¡Es que siempre me alegro de verle, Sugawara-san! —Respondió Shouyou haciendo una leve reverencia de todos los días como a sus clientes habituales les aplicaba tras ese abrazo.—Y también con tu cordialidad excesiva… Te he dicho que está bien que me hables de "tú".El más joven solo atinó a ofrecerle una sonrisa semi condescenciente. Volvió a caminar tras el mostrador sacando un florero de vidrio azul cielo, colocando con maestría el fondo verde para las flores y vertiendo algo de agua en él previamente. Koushi observó su labor mientras acomodaba su propio suéter.—Hinata, si no es mucho pedir, quisiera que este arreglo fuera más especial que de costumbre. —El menor le dedicó una mirada curiosa a lo que el muchacho del lunar se puso a jugar con el borde tejido de la prenda color lavanda que vestía.—Claro, ¿Cuál es la ocasión?—Día de las madres.Sus ojos se enternecieron y captó el mensaje asintiendo. Comenzó su búsqueda a tropezones en el huerto cerrado, entre cajas de madera puso su empeño en combinar las mejores flores para ese gran espectáculo visual. El mensaje tenía que ser cordial, agradable y lleno de luz, como para él significaba una persona tan especial como lo eran las mamás.—Ya decía yo que por algo Natsu se veía emocionada en la cena.—Si, está entusiasmada por ello. ¡Mis niños la van a sorprender en su primer festival!—¡Será muy bonito! —Respondió Shouyou— Espero alcanzar a llegar después de cerrar.—Se termina a las siete la representación, aun así creo que llegarás a tiempo al convivio.—No me lo perdería por nada.El arreglo empezaba a tomar forma ante los ámbar ojos del mayor, la habilidad del pelirrojo nunca dejaba de sorprenderlo, era tan audaz e intovertido que no podrías imaginarlo en una tarea tan delicada como era esa. Terminó de armar en el florero sobreponiendo orquideas sobre las azucenas moradas creando efectos brillantes, en el centro se podía ver como pequeños lirios dibujaban la silueta de una gran rosa blanca. Suspiró, era tan precioso que pensaba podría llorar de verlo. Hinata tomó entre sus manos el florero para pasarselo, siendo cuidadoso de no dejarlo caer, aunque en realidad no se trataba de algo muy ostentoso.—¿Puedo pagarte después del festival? No puedo alcanzar mi cartera… —Admitió apenado el muchacho de la guardería, ganándose una sonrisa del más joven.—Eso luego lo vemos. —Respondió acompañandole a la entrada abriendo la puerta del local para que pasara sin percances.—¡Gracias!—¡Espera, Suga!El de cabellos platinados giró para verle correr de nuevo al interior de la florería, se sintió confundido. ¿Habrá olvidado algo? Pensó. Hinata salió con la misma velocidad que entró para colocarle en el bolsillo de su suéter una pequeña flor azul parecida a una campanilla de sus pétalos. Debió haber puesto una cara de cuestión enorme para que Shõyõ de inmediato le explicara.—Una iris. —Caminó hacía su puesto nuevamente y antes de cerrar reveló en voz baja, pero lo suficiente de entendible para que pudiera escucharlo— Significa afecto, calor. Cariño maternal. ¡Te veo al rato!El encargado de los pequeños, suspiró observando el pequeño detalle con ternura, hoy era un día de aquellos, en que presentía todo estaría bien. Es más todo sería perfecto. La realidad era que tras la visita de la mañana, el día estuvo completamente atareado entre tantos arreglos y ramos para conmemorar el día aquel. Igualmente Kageyama se encontraba ocupado hasta tope por los comensales que aprovechaban la tarde para llevar a merendar a sus señoras. El día se movía entre sonrisas, risas de infantes y lágrimas de felicidad que soltaban las mujeres gozando de una compañía que a veces solía ser anual.A las cuatro y media, el flujo dejó de ser continuo, dando paso a la calma que se sucetaría por las próximas horas. Hinata se quitó el delantal mientras se sentaba en el banquillo de madera del patio trasero, disfrutando de la brisa primaveral que desprendía el cielo con la mezcla de aromas entre petálos, agua, follaje… Y roles de canela.Su estómago gruñó en respuesta. De tanta carga laboral en el día se había olvidado de comer, Natsu lo mataría si se llegaba a enterar que olvidó su almuerzo en la barra de cocina.En ese momento ve caer frente a sus ojos una bolsa de papel que después reposa en su regazo. Sonríe de lado mirando hacia arriba, es su vecino otra vez molestando.—¿Sabías que no he comido?—Lo intuí. Haz trabajado toda la mañana.—Igual que tú. —Hinata abrió la bolsa topandose con un par de bollos rellenos de carne. Soltó una risa burlona— Vaya, si hasta tú puedes ser amable.—Cierra la boca. —Extenuó Kageyama sintiendo el bochorno en sus mejillas— Tienes que comer sino no rendirás. Y Natsu se puede enterar por mi que olvidaste de nuevo tu almuerzo…—¡Ni se te ocurra decirselo, Bakayama!El pelirrojo dio una mordida al bollo, mientras Tobio se postraba a su lado comiendo el otro, ya era una costumbre adquirida en los años que llevaban allí de vecinos de local, aunque desde tiempo atrás en épocas de secundaria, preparatoria y su preparación técnica (Ya que no habían asistido a una universidad) siempre tenían ese pequeño hábito rutinario durante los recesos. Ahora era una costumbre más en conjunto con las competencia que nunca cambiaría.—Oi, Hinata.—¿Hmm? —Respondió el otro aún con comida en su boca.—Ya casi es quince de mayo.El muchacho más bajito tragó el bocado con mucho entusiasmo. Se acercaba esa fecha tan especial para ambos.—¡Ya casi cuatro años! ¿Creíste que tendríamos tanto éxito?—¡Ni de broma! Pensé que fracasarías en el primer mes.—¡O-Oye! ¡No me fue tan mal!—¿No? —Preguntó con ironía arqueando las cejas— Idiota, inundaste la mayoría de tus girasoles de la temporada por andar en la lela. Y te caías a cada rato entre los sacos de tierra. Y no olvidemos el día en que casi te cortas toda la mano por quedarte mirando a la hermana de…—¡Basta, Torpeyama!Los pucheros del mayor extenuaron su descontento, y cuando estuvo a punto de reprenderlo más la campanilla de la puerta otra vez mostró la llegada de un cliente, a lo que salió corriendo entre el largo pasillo del plantel.—¡Voy! —Saltó sobre una caja de cartón que le estorbaba esquivandola cuan seleccionado nacional de atletismo, antes de llegar con el chico del mostrador— ¡Buenas tard-…!Su voz se cortó al darse cuenta de las dimensiones de aquel muchacho, era inmenso, alto e imponente con su mera presencia. No era una persona tosca, muy por el contrario poseía rasgos algo delicados y su complexión delgada no ayudaba mucho. El cabello rubio, corto enclareciendo más su piel de luna. Todo un tipazo, hermoso aunque su mueca torcida le restaba algunos puntos. Iba bien… Hasta que habló por primera vez.—Oye tú. ¿Está el dueño?—¿Eh? Yo soy el dueño.—No puede ser, pero si eres un niño.La palabra niño invadió sus pupilas reproduciendose entre sus canales auditivos también.—¡Para tu información tengo veinticinco años!—Pff. —La risa del larguirucho lo hizo enfadar en niveles alucinantes. Al verlo serio ante la reacción del rubio, este recuperó la compostura.— Oh. Entonces hola.—¿Qué necesitas?—Es obvio que flores, ¿A que más vendría a una florería?El cliente ya estaba empezando a colmar su paciencia. Si esto seguía así se llegaría a poner violento, y nada daba más miedo que un Hinata cabreado. Sostuvo entre sus manos el borde de su delantal verde oscuro, presionando la tela con verdadera molestia, intentando mantener la cordura.—No me refería a eso, señor… —El aludido comprendió que debía decir su nombre.—Tsukishima.—Bien, Tsukishima, empecemos. —Nuevamente el de piel palida no pudo evitar ladear su cabeza con su expresión inescrutable. Hinata en cambio puso sus manos en los laterales de la cadera con una sonrisa airosa en sus comisuras. Ahora empezaría la encuesta para conocer a la nueva clientela.— Primero, ¿Qué te gustaría?—Hmm… ¿Un ramo pequeño de rosas?El florista arrugo la nariz por esa respuesta tan vaga mientras tomaba de las gavetas los papeles traslucidos y los cordeles para arreglar el ramo requerido.—¿Cuál es la ocasión?—¿En serio tengo que decirte? Sólo dame unas rosas.—Nope. ¿Ocasión? —Esta vez fue el turno del gigante muchacho de molestarse al grado de casi aplastar la diminuta cabeza del excéntrico florista. No tuvo de otra más que ceder, después de todo necesitaba esas flores ya. "Sabía que no debí hacerle caso a Bokuto." Pensó instantaneamente por la recomendación de ir a esa floreria.—Una graduación.—¿De qué tipo?—¿De verdad?El rostro del muchacho despejó sus dudas, era una sonrisa de esas cálidas. Que no hacen más que dejarte llevar y confiar. Odiaba esa clase de personas.—Bien, se gradua un… —El nerviosismo se coló en su garganta— …amigo.—Ese tono no me suena a que sea solo un amigo. —Hinata empezó tomando algo de pasta de follaje que mantendría el ramo fresco al envolverlo— Cuéntame.—¡¿Por qué tengo que contarle a un desconocido mi vida privada?!—Porque las flores dan mensajes, Tsukishima.—¿Y eso me importa por qué…?—Porque quieres decirle algo importante.Ambos se miraron un instante, los colores de Kei en su pálida piel eran un dilema enorme, y Shouyou apreciaba divertido esos detalles cuando alguien nuevo aparecía por su negocio, para él era lo divertido de ser florista, ser confidente de muchos casos y brindar la solución mediante el lenguaje más hermoso del mundo: Las flores.—Bien, entonces. ¿Es tu pareja?—Si.Aún sintiendo esa incomodidad pensó que entre menos demorara contestando podría largarse antes.—¿Llevan mucho saliendo?—Ocho meses.—¡Wooooh! ¡Casi el año! —El dueño del local observó las pintas del atuendo del desconocido frente a él. Tenía puesta la chaqueta negra del equipo de voleibol de la secundaria Karasuno, donde orgullosamente estuvo. Sus ojos se iluminaron y cuando estuvo a punto de exclamar su emoción, pudo contenerse. Profesionalismo ante todo.— Ambos son de preparatoria. Pero tú eres menor que él…—Vaya, Sherlock. Que brillante eres.El comentario no le hizo la minima gracia al chico, asi que refunfuñó con sus pucheros y continuó con el interrogatorio.—¿Y por qué quieres regalarle flores?—Porque… —Su voz se atoró nuevamente en su interior. Le daba demasiada pena soltarlo asi como asi.— No es de tu incumbencia.—Tsukishima… —Las notas soprendentemente graves del pelirrojo lo tomaron por sorpresa—Súeltalo.—Bueno, yo… —El sonrojo atravesó su rostro haciendolo parecer una tetera sobrecalentada, expulsando vapores y calor sobre él—…No quiero que se olvide de mi.—¿Por qué haría eso?—Porque se va a mudar a Tokio para estudiar.Si los humos sobresalían, esta vez la cabeza de Kei iba a reventar en grande. ¡¿Cómo pudo expresarse así con alguien a quien había acabado de conocer!? Y para colmo le pagaría por eso… Y lo vería raro… "Eres grande, Tsukishima. ¡Grande entre los grandes!". Volvió a pensar. Mientras el atento jovencito no hacía más que continuar con su labor.—En ese caso, permiteme unos minutos, sé que hacer para esto.Las peonías blancas tomaban la base del ramo creando un esponjoso sendero, mientras algunas lilis celestes adornaban ciertos puntos, entonces colocó entre el follaje verde oscuro unas notas más de color azul. Era un tono tan puro y delicado, infantil como curioso, pero sobre todo se sentía tan perfecto en el centro de ese pequeño arreglo. "Las infalibles y sinceras 'No me olvides', son perfectas."Hinata secó el sudor de su frente con el dorso de su mano y las secó con el mantel a un lado suyo. Enredó entre los gruesos cordeles blancos hueso el papel y creó el cono para depositarlos en una entrega.—Ahora solo debo ponerle algo más… —Del frasco de vidrio improvisado sacó una tarjeta de pergamino además del estilografo de punto fino. Era hora del mensaje.— ¿Te gustaría escribir tú algo? —El rubio negó acomodando sus lentes con pena ajena.— En ese caso, yo escribo. ¿Debe venir su nombre?—No. Las entregaré personalmente.—Perfecto. —Tras pensar unos segundos decidió escribir algo relacionado con una frase que su madre le hubiera dicho desde pequeño, para hacerle recordar que no importaba lo lejos que estuvieran ni las circunstancias: Ellos eran su hogar a donde regresar.— Listo.—Gracias. Aunque te reportaré por metiche con la policia.—¿¡EHHHH!?Kageyama entró tras ver que su amigo tardaba demasiado, ¿Qué tanto podía tardar con un cliente? Tal vez le habia tocado algún lunático o una mujer parlanchina. Pero cuando entró al local miró a una cara conocida con un sonrojo despectivo al toparse con él antes de que pagara en caja. Por lo que antes de llamarle, Tsukishima Kei había lanzado su dinero y huido de ese espacio, dejando a un florista confundido por lo ocurrido en menos de cinco minutos, además de cambio extra sin otorgar.—¿Qué hacía ese muchacho aquí?—¿Él? —El pelirrojo señaló la puerta recibiendo un asentimiento de respuesta— Vino por un ramo para una graduación.Tobio dedujo con la sonrisa del mayor que se trataba definitivamente de lo que estaba pensando. La despedida inevitable de la pareja formada por uno de sus empleados y el jovencito de bachillerato estaba por llegar. Pero eso no era de su incumbencia.—Maldito Tontoyama, ¡Espantas a mi clientela con tu fea cara!En cambio el deseo de golpear a Hinata contra las cajas por insultar su rostro si era de su total incumencia. Tras terminar el entrenamiento del día de hoy, entre la semana, después de que todos se fueran, excepto ellos dos. Que siempre se quedaban al final, para pasar un tiempo juntos, gozar ese instante a solas dedicado a los dos, solo a los dos, y nadie más.Tetsurou salió de la puerta del cuarto del club donde solían alistarse, sabía que Tsukishima lo esperaría afuera, él era rápido para vestirse e intentaba estar tranquilo antes de irse. El pelinegro de flequillo terminó de cerrar, al darse la vuelta para atrapar al chico de lentes se topó con un tacto suave en sus mejillas y nariz. Un delicado toque humedo acompañado de un gracil aroma a primavera celestial. Tsukishima Kei le estaba entregando un ramo de flores a su persona.—Oh ho ho, ¿Qué es esto?—Flores. —Giró los ojos ambar el menor con ironia.—¿Eh? Pero, como por qué… —El mayor tomó entre sus dedos el ramo admirandolo. Sus tonos eran azules, nostálgicos, como si fueran llamadas de atención. Gritos apasionados y sensibles visuales. Era tan enigmático y sorprendente el poder que esa imagen y tacto tenían para él— Son preciosas.—Huh.En eso el muchacho de ojos dorados mantuvo su mirada fija en un trozo de pergamino que colgaba del cordel jugando entre los aires de esa noche de mayo.—Eso es… —Balbuceó el de gafas con algo de nervios. Kuroo no pudo evitar tener más curiosidad sobre lo que decía esa nota:"Mi hogar está donde tú estes, y siempre te tendré en mis pensamientos".—¡Ni creas que yo escribí el mensaje! ¡Fue el idiota del florista!—Nunca pensaría eso, cielo.Volvió a leer el mensaje de la tarjeta con aires enamorados. Era obvio que Kei no había escrito aquello, pero lo podía imaginar pensando en aquello, diciendoselo al oido más en un momento tan privado de soledad. Leería ese mensaje una y otra vez cuando se fuera a Tokio. Lo leería cada mañana al despertar, al irse al colegio, antes de entrenar y previamente a la hora de dormir, pensando en él. En su gigante muchacho que lo volvía loco con sus muecas tan perfectas. "Maldito niño de segundo año, maldito Kei que me tienes a tus pies."—No te vayas a olvidar de mi, estúpido. —Soltó de repente el más joven tomando los pliegues de su ropa entre sus dedos. Se ponía tan ansioso cuando de cosas románticas se trataba.El verse rodeado entre sus brazos, la compañía cálida, su aroma penetrante en cada parte de su ser y la armonía con que era arrullado con su rasposa voz. Tetsurou nunca se iba a ir de su mente, siempre lo tendría allí. Aun cuando todo empezara a venirse abajo.—Tsukki, jamás podría hacerlo.—¿Quieres apostarlo?Él estaría en sus más recónditos pensamientos. Sin poderlo evitar, atacandolo cuando estuviera despectivo o desapercibido.—En vez de estar retrasando las cosas deberías besarme.—No jodas.Y sus labios lo atacarían como hacia en este momento a la par que nadie podía observarlos en el patio de la escuela. Entre su debilidad y la adicción que recordó tener hacia los labios de Kuroo. Este se separó un momento relamiendolos, con ese gesto de pillo en el rostro.—Aunque aun no sé porque te despides de mí hoy.—Porque mañana te vas, obviamente.—¿Yo? —Respondió señalándose con una risa en surgiendo entre sus mejillas, tras el asentimiento del rubio volvió a hablar— Cielo, me voy dentro de dos días.—Pero Bokuto me dijo… ¡Lo voy a asesinar!Un suspiro molesto y un tic nervioso invadieron al menor del par, cuando el otro solo lograba partirse de risa ante la ingenuidad de creerle a su bro de toda la vida. ¡Ni él mismo le creía todo el tiempo! Con ello Kuroo logró ganarse la paliza de su vida en el camino de regreso a la casa del palido chico, unos abrazos de cintura, un bello ramo de flores, un beso apasionado en plena vía pública. Y una noche tan tierna que nunca olvidaría, encima de ese plantel, al lado del balcón junto a las escaleras del cuarto del club.—¿Será que tenías planeado despedirte de mi en este lugar? Porque aquí fue nuestro primer beso…—Cállate, arruinas el momento.Y de nuevo estaba ahí devorando sus dulces labios. Hinata terminó de barrer los tallos sacados y las espinas en conjunto a las hojas regadas por la vieja duela que tenía de piso, metió todo el desastre en la bolsa negra de basura y tomó sus llave para cerrar. Ya se había quitado el delantal de trabajo y ahora colocaba encima de su cuerpo un chaleco anaranjado que cubría su camiseta blanca.Salió por el portal y cerró la entrada tras apagar las luces. Al devolver su vista a la puerta de madera entintada pudo reconocer un nuevo sobre en ese suave papel, con esa limpia calígrafia. Abriendola de inmediato volviendo a tener ese cuidado, leyó y releyó el corto contenido."¿Podré ser tu hogar algún día?"Sus latidos recobraron más fuerza al verse invadido por una extraña presencia que le tocaba el hombro. Casi grita del espanto al darse cuenta que se trataba de su amigo pelinego con una mirada acertiva.—Si no te mueves nos vamos a perder la reunión de Sugawara.—¡Y-ya! —Respondió metiendo la tarjeta torpemente en su bolso maletín cerrándolo.Así en cuanto más se adentraba en pláticas externamente con Kageyama, por dentro la frase se arremolinaba en su pequeña cabecita."¿Será que vi al remitente anónimo el día de hoy?"Por esta noche, Shouyou moriría con la duda. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- " Día a día de un florista" Capítulo dos: Prohibido "Amor. Propósito. Son cosas que no puedes planear. Son cosas que simplemente pasan.” -Enlazados (Rainbow Rowell) El día comenzaba nuevamente en la calle principal de Miyagi, justo donde los locales abrían sus puertas a los clientes, saludando a todos en la fresca mañana llena de rocío regocijado, Hinata saca sus llaves abriendo la cerradura, esperando por su rival, voltea dándose cuenta que aún no ha llegado. —Maldito Bakayama. —El desconcierto de tal acto es demasiado, tanto que olvida el duelo matinal de hoy. Suspira con calma esperando esté bien, pues Kageyama nunca llega tarde y debía tener una buena excusa para ello. Las luces son encendidas en un segundo, se despoja de su ligera chaqueta color rosa pastel colgándola en el perchero del que toma su delantal verde de todos los días. Estira sus brazos preparándose para el nuevo día y la campanilla de la entrada suena tintineando. Hoy el día empieza raro, nunca nadie llegaba tan temprano a la florería. ¿Se trataría del de cabello oscuro arrepentido por su tardanza? Sonrió maquiavélicamente mientras giraba a encararlo. —Ni creas que se te va a perdonar nuestra competencia de la mañana, ¡Haz perdido por default ! Ahora se encontraba señalando a un muchacho bajito que nada tenía que ver con aquello. El chico de cabello desafiante a la gravedad le devolvió la sonrisa socarronamente, mientras peinaba más hacia arriba su rebelde mechón rubio entre la oscura mata de pelo castaño. —Si es una florería aquí, ¿Verdad? —Preguntó el cliente arqueando una ceja algo confundido. Hinata pasó su mano por sus propios cabellos avergonzado por su idiotez del día.—Así es. ¡Disculpe por haberle confundido! —Esta vez hizo una reverencia amplia buscando el perdón ajeno.—¡Que va! No te preocupes. —El muchacho era realmente bajito, aunque Shouyou no era quien para decirlo, y venía ataviado con una camiseta divertida que enunciaba “Ejercito de un solo hombre” y una chamarra de mezclilla encima. Lucía como una persona genial hasta con su mochila cruzada negra que era de lo más sencilla en los estudiantes— Vengo a hacer un pedido para el día de hoy, ¿Aquí se pueden hacer envíos?—Por supuesto, solo déme la dirección para apuntársela al repartidor. Sus notas en la libreta se vieron interrumpidas por un pequeño rectángulo negro. Tomó la tarjeta de la mano ajena buscando la información. —Es la dirección que viene en la tarjeta. —Mencionó el castaño señalando el reverso.—Esta bien. ¿Nombre de quien las recibirá?—Azumane Asahi. —Azumane Asahi… —Repitió el dueño del local anotando el nombre en la libreta junto a la fecha de envío con una sonrisa agradable— Ahora la pregunta del millón, ¿Desea que se agregue el remitente?—No, pero igual él sabrá quien las envía. —Respondió confiado el muchacho alzando la mano para saludar al florista— Pero para ti no será un misterio porque de seguro vendré más seguido. ¡Soy Nishinoya Yuu! El enérgico saludo de presentación le tomó por sorpresa pero igualmente le contagió de alegría, tomando la mano del interesante sujeto nuevo saludó señalando su gafete dorado en el delantal. —Hinata Shouyou. ¡Y eso espero! Todo dependerá del resultado del detalle. —Hinata guardó su libreta y se puso a mirar las cajas de flores dando la espalda al cliente mientras buscaba como comenzar— Ahora, ¿Necesitas un ramo o flores individuales? —¡Un gran arreglo! Los ojos del mayor se iluminaron con alegría en lo que volteaba a ver a la persona que emocionada observaba todas las flores de la pared. —Bien, entonces un arreglo. —Amarró su delantal con fuerza acercándose para hacer la entrevista usual— ¿Cuál es la ocasión, Nishinoya?—No hay una ocasión en especial… —Respondió con sinceridad el joven nuevo pasando su mano tras sus cabellos sorprendentemente apenado— En realidad es para recordarle a Asahi lo mucho que lo estimo.—¿Cree que no lo estimas? —La cara de poema de Yuu le hizo recordar que estaba metiéndose en asuntos ajenos, provocando que se exaltara el mismo— ¡N-No tiene que decirme! —¡No, no! Está bien, y en parte tienes razón, la cosa va de que pues… Es complejo, y de hecho aparte de ti, nadie más lo sabe.—¿Es algo muy complicado?—Si… Hinata, ¿Puedes guardar un secreto? “Felicidades, Shouyou te acabas de meter en líos que no te incumben.” Pensó finalmente. Volviendo a seis meses atrás en estos tiempos, por motivos del cambio de plan de estudios en la Universidad, los alumnos de las generaciones previas a la de nuevo ingreso en Ingeniería Químico Farmacéutica debían someterse a clases extra para acreditar las materias según el temario propuesto, solo podían ser exentos de estas si mantenían un promedio mayor a ochenta. Y todos pudieron evitarse el dolor de cabeza, todos excepto un alumno en toda la generación anterior. Las asesorías eran la hora favorita del joven Nishinoya Yuu, el único estudiante que tuvo que hacerlas. Desde el primer día del semestre durante el discurso de inicio a clases había estado ingeniándose formas en su mente para poder tener la oportunidad de hablar con ese hombre que sus ojos cafés llenos de energía no dejaban de mirar. Justo como hace en este momento, cautivándose con su cabello largo en coleta que no deja de volver a anudar entre sus dedos, ni la suavidad de su piel que desea rozar con las yemas de su mano. No puede soportarlo, ya no más, tras conocerlo y saber que detrás de una imponente presencia llena de rudeza existe un hombre tan dulce como de apuesto es, se siente tan atraído a él y lo necesita cerca. Necesita conocer el sabor de sus besos. Si, la palabra es necesitar.—Maestro Azumane. —Interrumpe el muchacho de cabello rebelde apoyado en la puerta antes de salir—¿¡Eh!? —Grita el profesor soltando la pluma que estaba por colocar en su maletín de cuero— ¿P-Pasa algo?—¿Tiene que pasar algo para que lo llame?—No es eso, es que me sorprende tanta formalidad viniendo de ti. El menor no sabe que responder a ello, pero al ver que el más alto va a quitarle la atención para volver a su organización le toma de su camisa jalándolo un poco. —Nishinoya, ¿Qué sucede? —Pregunta sin verle a la cara continuando con su tarea.—Me gustas. Azumane suelta su maletín dejándolo caer en el alfombrado color vino del suelo, gira con la sorpresa en sus ojos. Grave error viniendo de él, ya que la mirada encendida de Noya es como un camión de carga en máxima velocidad. Puede matarle con esa forma de verlo. —¿Es una broma?—No lo es, Asahi. Sus voces calladas seguían abrumando el ambiente, la expresión seria del mayor le ponía los cabellos más de punta de lo usual si era posible, de verdad, sentía hielo recorrer sus venas y que estaría por estallar de cólera si no decía nada. —¡Di algo! —El grito de Yuu destruyó cada fragmento de prudencia dentro de Asahi, ya no podía callárselo. —Yo también te quiero, Nishinoya. — Respondió haciendo al menor la persona más feliz entre todos los mortales del Mundo — Pero... —Lo sé.—No es conveniente. No está bien.—Aún así quiero estar contigo, Asahi. —Yuu. —Suspiró bajo el beso en que sus labios fueron atrapados. El silencio de la oficina fuera de horario se llenó de suspiros ásperos, el largo aleteo de los corazones retumbando bajo sus ropas. Noya podía sentirlo más con las manos colocadas sobre el amplio pecho del maestro. Arrugo los pliegues de su camisa alzándose un poco para alcanzarlo, Azumane tomó su cintura levantándolo un poco tras ver sus dificultades, el estudiante aprovechó ese movimiento profundizando el contacto atrayéndole con una de sus manos en su cuello. La intensidad de los labios devorándose entre músculo sobre músculo, y una mordida de labio inferior que impuso a que Yuu terminara girando para apoyar sus manos sobre el borde del escritorio. El tiempo detenido volvió a correr al verse separados con una mirada conectada tan llena de efusividad, con el cariño rebosando al tacto sobre los poros en su piel. — Yuu, esto no es correcto. — Por favor, Asahi. — Escuchar su nombre de pila en su boca arrastrando las letras con sensualidad. — Quiero tenerte conmigo. — Déjame quererte de vuelta, en ese caso. El asentimiento del menor terminó por confirmar las esperanzas presentes últimamente. Desde ese entonces cada día después del horario escolar, las reuniones que concluían en caricias se volvieron más constantes y con ello los besos que empezaban en la oficina terminaban en actos consumados de deseo carnal en la casa del profesor, siempre amándose, siempre protegiéndose. —Vaya que es un rollo complicado. Nishinoya Yuu nunca en su vida hubiera pensado que podría contarle su más grande secreto a nadie, ni siquiera a su mejor amigo por miedo a que este pudiera reaccionar terriblemente, pero era algo que ya quería sacar, y hasta ahora no existía alguien con quien pudiera hacerlo. Hasta que por azares del destino llegó a esta florería por recomendación del mismísimo Tanaka, quien hablaba maravillas de ese lugar a dónde siempre llegaba a comprar ramos para su novia. Y no es que desconfiara de las personas, él temía al rechazo. Pero ese pelirrojo muchacho no tenía expresión de ser mala persona. —¿Y qué crees? —Esperaba realmente un rechazo. Una mueca de asco, ¿Cómo reaccionaría el joven florista desconocido antes?—Hmmm… —Shouyou se cruzó de brazos haciendo un puchero— Creo que los lirios solos no van a bastar.—¿Qué?—Pero no te preocupes, ¡Sé como dar el mensaje! Confía en mi. Definitivamente no esperaba esa reacción. El tipo debía estar loco, incluso se veía excéntrico tomando notas sobre las flores que creía correctas, los tamaños propuestos para el arreglo, incluso tomó el catálogo invadiéndolo por completo con su dedo señalando todas las imágenes de los tipos de flor, follaje, colores. Sobre todo, le explicó tantos significados. Definitivo, había acudido a la persona correcta. “Las azaleas blancas son las flores medianas abiertas entre petalos redondos, ellas simbolizan el romance y los encuentros furtivos acompañados de las acacias, que son las pequeñas y pomposas amarillas. La cascada es un montón de follaje y begonias, las flores color durazno, que significan adversidad. Cada día es diferente, nos sentimos diferentes, necesitamos sentirnos así…” Tantas expresiones y palabras tan bonitas. Se sentía pleno en su elemento. —Por último debo preguntarte, ¿Deseas colocarle una nota tu mismo o prefieres que yo lo haga?—¡Yo quiero! —El dueño le pasó una tarjeta de opalina pergamino y su estilografo para que se explayara, pero solo colocó dos palabras. Hinata sonrió con ello.—Listo, con esto acaba. ¿Una hora especifica para el envío?—Cualquier momento después de las dos. Es su hora de comida.—Entonces, espero le guste su detalle y las cosas fluyan mejor.—Muchas gracias por escuchar, Hinata. El muchacho asintió despidiéndose con la mano, a punto de soltarlo hasta que este apretó la mano repentinamente. —¡Ah! ¡Casi se me olvida! —Nishinoya hurgó dentro del bolsillos de su chaqueta sacando del interior un pequeño sobre rectangular. Al mostrárselo pudo reconocer de que se trataba.— Me dijeron que te lo diera.—¿Q-Quién te dijo? ¡Dime! —Reaccionó esta vez el florista con una intensidad enorme en sus ojos, el estudiante universitario sonrió ampliamente emocionado, ¡Por fin alguien en todo Miyagi además de él y su amigo Ryu tenía esa energía tan extraña y vigorizante!.—Un muchacho. No sé quien es, solo me vio a punto de entrar y dijo que te la entregara. —¡¿Cómo era?! El menor adquirió una pose pensativa colocando su mano en el mentón. —No pude ver más ya que tenía puestos unos lentes oscuros y una gorra, ¡Además de que el cuello de su chaqueta no me dejo verlo bien! —Vaya… —“ Al menos sé que es un chico.” Pensó Hinata descartando a todas las chicas que había visto y conocido como sus ideas de posibilidades.— De todos modos, gracias. ¡Tendré listo su arreglo y se enviará para allá! —¡Confío en ti! —La sonrisa que le dedicó en ese momento el enérgico sujeto lo hizo sentir realmente feliz. A pesas de no haber escuchado su versión completa, podía comprender lo difícil que era querer a alguien que en ciertos puntos era imposible querer por una u otra razón.— ¡Un gusto!—El gusto fue mío, ¡Gracias por su visita! Tras la salida del cliente las campanillas cesaron, aprovechó ese instante para leer el recado en el rectángulo de suave y perfecto papel. “¿Qué debería hacer para que me adores como yo lo hago? Aún si no me dices, podría crear formas por verte sonreír la vida entera.” Los latidos de su corazón lo sobresaltaron más de lo que sus neuronas lo hacían al dar giros alrededor del interior de su cabeza. Sintió sus mejillas arder y los ojos enternecidos al leer cada letra, soltó un suspiro romántico desde su garganta, no debería hacerse ilusiones con alguien que quizás le está jugando una broma pesada. Después de todo no tenía la mínima idea de quien podría ser, nadie se enamoraba nunca de él. Esa mentalidad de la secundaria golpeó sus lagunas psíquicas. ¿Quién querría a alguien como él? Bueno solo una vez alguien lo hizo. Y no resultaron las cosas de la mejor manera. “Deberías decirme quien eres.” Fue el pensamiento central del bajito. Cuando iba a guardar la nota este sonido volvió a hacer aparición. Volteó con una sonrisa magistral dedicado a atender un nuevo visitante pero su expresión cambió de lleno al ver que solo se trataba de Kageyama. Frunció el ceño recordando lo molesto que se sintió por no verlo en la mañana y hacer su rutinaria competencia. —Llegas tarde.—No me digas. Recuerda que hoy no voy a abrir.—¿¡Qué!? ¿POR QUÉ?—Estoy encargado de hacer el banquete para la fiesta de hoy. —Respondió igualmente con su expresión más furiosa Tobio. Tomó asiento en la silla detrás del escritorio depositando una bolsa de papel, y unos vasos desechables con popote. El mayor señaló las cosas sobre la mesa buscando explicaciones— Natsu me dijo que no habías desayunado. ¿Por qué se te olvida algo tan importante? Deja de hacer estupideces.—A veces no sé porque mi hermana y tú se llevan tan bien…—Cállate. No puedo creer que olvidaras la fiesta de Kuroo y Bokuto.—¡CIERTO! Entonces por eso no abriste. —Abrió una de las charolas dentro de la bolsa revelando el aroma de lo más hermoso que había visto en la mañana— ¡Bollos dulces! No tardó en llevárselo a la boca dando un gran mordisco casi atragantándose, Kageyama puso los ojos en blanco antes de darle un brusco golpe en la espalda. —¡No comas tan rápido, idiota!—Si, si. —Dejó el bollo restante para ver el sobre blanco en su mano, de ese delicado papel, con esa bella caligrafía, sacó la nota de ella tras limpiarse la grasa de la comida en una servilleta.—¿Otra? —El contrario asintió— ¿La segunda, supongo?—No, es la tercera que recibo. —Kageyama escupió el leche que había bebido de su vaso, empapando al pelirrojo con el liquido.— ¡Oye, que asco!—¿C-Cómo que la tercera? —Bakayama, interésate por otras cosas, ¿Quieres? —Restregó su cara con el delantal quitándose la leche, aunque el aroma a lácteo seguía ahí— Anoche recibí otro sobre, pero en color casi dorado. —Debo irme. —El menor se veía en shock, como si algo se le hubiera escapado de las manos. Tomó sus cosas rápidamente al igual que sus llaves— Nos vemos en tu casa a las diez. —¡Kageyama! ¿Qué pasa? —Lo siguió hasta la puerta viéndolo seguir corriendo a su auto moviéndose con una agilidad sorprendente. Decidió dejarlo pasar, ya después le contaría.— ¿¡Q-Qué me debo poner para la fiesta!? ¡KAGEYAMA! Tobio no pudo escucharle. Pues tenía problemas, muchos problemas en su cabeza. En este momento alguien le estaba intentando sabotear su plan y lo peor del caso, con el mismo método que él estaba usando. Marcó un número de celular inmediato en lo que encendía el vehículo. —Oye, debo hablar contigo, ¿Puedes mañana? El día estaba de locos en definitiva. ¿Cómo los alumnos podían ser tan poco productivos a veces? No tenía ni una bendita idea el profesor de bioquímica que daba su recorrido tras haber terminado su comida, era hora de recoger sus listas de asistencia y firmar documentos para aprobar la certificación de la carrera de Ingeniería Químico Farmacéutica. Suspiró con desgane acomodando el sujetador de su cabello para volver a recogérselo mientras caminaba hacia su oficina en el área de posgrado. Entrando pudo observar a su secretaria que hoy tenía expresión diferente a la habitual, también los profesores llevaban esa sonrisa, sonrojos y ojos resplandecientes al verle cruzar el pasillo. “ ¿Tendré algo en la cara? ¡Tal vez volví a llenarme la barba con puré! No tengo remedio…” Asahi optó por preguntarle a la adorable mujer que tenía de secretaria, una señora mayor que siempre solía tratarle como uno de sus nietos. —Disculpe, señora Sao. —El moreno se acercó con reparo siendo respetuoso— ¿Pasa algo con mi cara? La amable anciana negó con la cabeza y se levantó para acomodarle la corbata como usualmente hace en las tardes tras el turno del docente. —No. Ingeniero Azumane.—¿Entonces por qué todos me observan? Si no es indiscreción, claro. —¿Por qué no entras a tu oficina a averiguarlo, cielo? Las palabras se quedaron grabadas en su mente. ¿En la oficina? ¿Es que acaso se habían dado cuenta de su relación con Nishinoya? Corrió como pudo sin verse tan obvio de su exhaltación, las ideas en su mente empezaban a maquinar, miró a todos lados una vez ingreso abriendo de golpe la puerta, buscando un indicio que revelara aquel secreto bien guardado. Y no encontró nada. Nada que no fuera un gran arreglo floral. Respiró profundo recargando su peso en el escritorio, justo al lado de las flores. Era quizás lo más bello que le habían regalado en sus treinta y dos años viviendo, esas flores formaban un precioso marco, simulando una cascada y su escalinata, ese sendero que día a día subían sin querer parar. Tomó la nota que se encontraba sobre el arreglo, dentro venían dos tarjetas, la primera relataba el porqué de cada flor. “Te amo.” La frase le cayó como balde de agua, sintiéndose pleno, feliz. Pero con un miedo nada instantáneo. ¿Cómo podía decirlo tan fácil? ¿Por qué todos los días tenía que estar bajo sospechas insípidas y culpas? Si él también le amaba tanto, ¿Qué hacía que estuviera mal? Menos mal, no era lo que pensaba. Pero las personas alrededor cuchicheaban buscando respuestas sobre la identidad del mensajero amoroso. Porque se daban cuenta a simple vista que se trataba de más que una declaración, era un grito desesperado de “Que todos sepan lo mucho que te amo” . Era atrevido, intenso y escandaloso. Tan Nishinoya Yuu. —¿Quién es la afortunada? —Preguntó curiosa la amable señora— ¿O acaso es afortunado ? —Es complicado, señora Sao. —Respondió el alto maestro que después fue abrazado un poco por la mujer de cabellos platinados. Después esta se quedó apoyada en el marco de la puerta antes de salir diciendo:—El amor funciona por mero azar, Asahi, nos enamoramos de quien menos se espera. Déjate llevar, cielo. “Si tan solo pudiera ser así de sencillo.” Y a continuación tecleó en su móvil un texto hacia su estudiante, ese que le hacia caer en las tentaciones más grandes. Después de una semana de no haber interactuado directamente con él. Yo (enviado a las 15:57) "Tenemos que hablar. Te veo a la hora de siempre en la oficina.” El pequeño departamento estaba atiborrado de gente, Bokuto y Kuroo vivían juntos desde la escuela media a costa de la tía abuela del de cabello bicolor, pero tras el crecimiento de ambos decidieron vivir juntos independientemente en su último año, ya que como foráneos al regresar a Tokio podrían vivir con sus familias. La sala había sido retirada a una esquina para colocar mesas largas con mantel que sostenían el peso de las múltiples charolas de canapés, cortesía del día entero de Kageyama y también de dos grandes barriles metálicos de cerveza. Igualmente todos traían consigo sus respectivos six-pack de latas o botellas de diferentes olores y sabores. Toda una variedad alcohólica para adolescentes de tercero de preparatoria (y uno que otro alumno de grado menor de colado) que buscaban perder el control por una noche divirtiéndose. Y ahí a un lado sintiéndose fuera de contexto dos adultos bebiendo a sorbos refresco de cereza mientras la música electrónica sonaba sin expresión alguno y con ello gente alzando los brazos y saltando como imitando una especie de baile. —No entiendo a los adolescentes. —Tú no entiendes a nadie, Kageyama — Las risas de Hinata provocaron que el menor hiciera pucheros. —Esa ni siquiera es música que puede bailarse.—Suenas igual de anciano que el viejo Ukai. —¡Calla! Ambos callaron y el florista detuvo su mirada en la vestimenta de Tobio, una camisa azul celeste abierta mostrando una interior más oscura que resaltaba de sus pantalones negros acompañados de cómodos tenis tono mezclilla. Si no fuera porque los dos traían sus identificaciones y Kageyama no midiera 1.87 (para su envidia), pasarían como unos chicos de secundaria más en ese festejo. Eso le recordó que tenía que preguntar algo a su mejor amigo. —Oye, Kageyama. —¿Qué? —Amargado. —S oltó poniendo los ojos en blanco casi gritando sobre la música — Dime, ¿Pasó algo hoy? Es que te fuiste del local de repente. —Solo había olvidado unos encargos... La voz temblorosa del pelinegro no le había convencido para nada, casi le volvía a dar con el tema pero terminó viéndose interrumpido por uno de los anfitriones que lo abrazaba expectante con su brazo. El joven con pelo similar al de un búho pálido les sonrió a ambos. —Hey, hey, hey. ¡Qué bueno que vinieron! —¡Bokuto! — Saludó Shouyou recibiendo un choque informal de manos. —¡Hinata! ¿Cómo andas? —Bien, bien. ¿Y tú? —¿Cómo crees? Oye, ya que te veo... — Se acercó al oído del mayor cuchicheando, pudo percibir un gesto de molestia proveniente de su superior, aun así solo río internamente— ¿Puedo pasar mañana a la florería? Tengo un pedido súper especial que hacer. —No tienes que preguntar, eres bienvenido cuando lo necesites — Respondió separándose con sus ojos marrón expectantes de lo que se avecinaba- ¡Cuenta conmigo! La sonrisa del capitán de meseros en la cafetería valía oro. Ella podía volverte su más grande fanático e inspirarte confianza para lo que fuera. —Hey, jefazo... ¡Necesito un favor del tamaño del Universo! —Pídeselo a alguien más... —¡Jefeeeeeeeee! —¡Bueno!—Los estribos del de ojos azules se fueron en picada para ceder al final por la voz agudizada de su empleado — ¿Qué quieres? —¡Victoria! — Festejó Kotarou — Necesito que me lleves a recoger otra mesa, creo que nos hace falta para acomodar más cosas... Y tienes auto. El canturreo del final casi lo saca de quicio pero se tragó sus palabras sacando las llaves del Corsa de su bolsillo. —Bien, pero vamos rápido. —¡Si! Deja voy por mi celular, te veo en la entrada. — Terminó entre gritos intentando sobreponerse a la música, dejando solos de nuevo al par de jóvenes adultos. Kageyama resopló observando con seriedad a su contrario en lo que se acomodaba el cuello de la camisa para salir. —Vuelvo en un rato, no vayas a cometer una estupidez. —Repitió de nuevo golpeando su cabeza con el índice— Y no bebas.—Es una fiesta… ¡Todos beben!—Te pones raro cuando lo haces, pero bueno tu sabrás.—Cuando me dices esas cosas hasta pareciera que eres mi esposa, Kageyama. El de cabello oscuro tragó saliva mientras el sonrojo aumentaba en su rostro quemando cada centimetro de sus mejillas. ¿Cómo era posible que pudiera gustarle alguien tan imbécil? Ni él lo sabía. —C-Cierra la boca. No tardo, idiota.—Con cuidado. —Canturreó el mayor viéndolo partir. Se puso a buscar a los protagonistas de la fiesta con la mirada sin mucho éxito. Eso significaría que debería buscar con quien conversar. El asunto trastabilló en que durante la caminata por un un resbalón irreparable que a pesar de no convertirse en caída dio reparo a un empujón a la persona detrás de él. —¡L-Lo siento mucho! La disculpa se vio interrumpida más delante por la silueta que se giraba casi marcando su final cuan película mala de terror, pero la suerte le semi sonrió cuando se dio cuenta de con quien había chocado. Tsukishima, el cliente odioso de la vez pasada le señalaba con una mirada de susto indescriptible. —¡Tú! —¡Eres el de ayer! — Respondió Hinata rememorando toda la detestable escena con él. Recordó en el instante el ramo especial que había arreglado. Tomó sus manos aprisionándolas jalando su cuerpo a su altura y plantó su rostro demasiado cerca casi invadiendo su espacio personal. Kei sintió que salía humo de sus orejas. "¡Este tipo está loco! Tenía que encontrármelo..." —¿Cómo te fue con las flores? — Susurró quedito el pelirrojo haciendo que Tsukishima deseara que se lo tragara la tierra. —No voy a responderte.—¿Por qué no? ¡Vamooooos! ¡La curiosidad me mata! Kei rodó los ojos gruñendo por lo bajo. La incomodidad de este momento podía verse hasta desde la torre de Tokio. —Supongo que le gustaron... —¡Me encantaron! — Gritó Kuroo entre la gente mirando al curioso par — ¡Sabía que solo tú harías tal trabajo, Hinata! —¿¡EHHHH!? ¿¡Kuroo es tu novio!? —¿Cómo se conocen? —Preguntó esta vez confundido el rubio acomodando sus gafas con seriedad en su mirar, ocultando el revoltijo de pena en su interior. — El señor Hinata es el dueño de la florería de al lado de donde trabajo. — Respondió el muchacho de rebelde cabello oscuro acercándose a revolver el pelo naranja del joven florista haciendo que soltara unas risas ansiosas — Además de que es un cliente muy querido por nosotros en la cafetería. —No puedo creerlo...—¡Qué pequeño es el Mundo! —Ni que lo digas. —Concluyeron a la par el florista y el estudiante de secundaria. Las risas de Kuroo en conjunto a las caricias del mismo hacia el cabello del alto rubio aminoraron el pesado ambiente creado. —Me alegra que vinieras, Hinata. ¡Natsu me dijo que hace tiempo que no salías a fiestas!—Eh, s-si… —El mencionado recogió nervioso las mangas de su camisa verde limón, sintiéndose más incómodo al reconocerse no muy fiestero— Digo, no podía perdérmela. Tú y Bokuto se van en unos días.—Si… Pero solo a cursos de inducción. Regresaré la próxima semana y luego del examen de ubicación veremos. —La cara de poema sin terminar del mayor lo hizo reír a carcajadas— ¡La misma cara puso Tsukki! El de ojos dorados recibió un codazo brutal de su novio, el cual se apartó entre los invitados para desaparecer. Kuroo hizo ademanes de disculpa retirándose a seguirlo, si bien no estaban peleando buscaban su tiempo a solas. Y eso un adulto como él, lo entendía perfectamente. Tomó otro vaso rojo de plástico de la mesa solitaria en el centro, olisqueó un poco en el para saber que contenía sin mucho éxito, aún así no le importó beberlo, no tenía porque desconfiar. Además se trataba de una fiesta. Llevó el vaso a sus labios tomando el dulce líquido de golpe, que se sentía tan vivido y cálido en su garganta después de tragarlo. —Sabor interesante. De ahí en adelante tomó otro vaso, que le siguió a otro, tras otro. Todo m ientras esperaba a que Kageyama regresara. El reloj en la pantalla del celular no corría rápido, simplemente no corría. “Vamos, vamos, vamos. Sólo dos minutos más.” —Noya, ¿Seguro que no puedo convencerte de que te quedes?—No, Ryu, tengo pendientes. Y si quiero salir la próxima semana debo terminarlos.—Va. No te mates, por favor. —Hicieron su choque de manos moviendo las palmas con una velocidad incalculable— Y cualquier cosa, estoy para ayudarte, hermano. La sonrisa sincera del más bajo podría derribar muros en ese momento. Chocaron esta vez más sencillo sus manos esta vez, dejándolo huir hacia donde debía ir. "Tenemos que hablar”. Esa frase aún retumbaba en su cabeza en lo que corría a tomar un taxi que lo llevara a las oficinas del campus de la Universidad. —¡Qué cambio tan drástico! —Gritaba un muchacho calvo siendo seguido por un grupito que silbaba con galantería a la figura frente a ellos— ¡No lo vi venir, en serio!—¡Bien, chico! ¡Dale! Un montón de gente se había juntado de a poco en el centro de la sala del departamento de los festejados. Las alabanzas provenían de ellos, y Kageyama no entendía el motivo. Sólo había ido a recoger una mesa plegable, ¿Cómo podía cambiar una fiesta tanto?. “ Adolescentes ” Pensó sintiéndose un anciano. Entre el gentío se armó de valor avanzando, cuando observa a quien vitorean casi se le cae la quijada del susto. —¿¡HINATA!? ¿¡Qué haces arriba de la mesa!? —¡K-Kageyama… Hip! —Responde el aludido con una bobalicona sonrisa, inclinando su torso para alcanzar a apoyarse en los hombros del más alto— ¡Es tan divertido esto!—¿Qué demonios está pasan-…? —Las manos del menor terminan en la cintura de Shouyou, ya que este las ha tomado mientras con ellas pasea alrededor de sus piernas con aire de sensualidad, poniéndose de rodillas para acercarse más a él. Tobio no entiende de donde viene el comportamiento tan excéntrico, sabe que en parte se debe a la canción de fondo, al penetrar su nariz el aroma a licor se da por sentada su teoría mental— ¿Estás bebiendo? ¡Idiota, sabes como te pones cuando tomas! Una nueva canción atravesó los tímpanos del grupo de jóvenes en el centro de la sala, todos alzaron sus bebidas, celulares o lo que tuvieran en mano ese momento. El par protagónico de la escena reaccionó de diferentes maneras. Hinata gritó alto exclamando cosas como “¡Es mi canción! ¡Mi maldita canción!” Mientras el otro hacia una mueca intentando escapar de esta situación tan rara. —Por favor, Kageyama… —Ruega el menor posicionando sus manos tras su cuello, meciéndose con una arqueada limpia sobre sus pantorrillas marcadas por el stretch del pantalón de mezclilla oscuro. El pelinegro tensiona sus músculos después de ese contacto tan agresivo, y tan sensual por parte de su mejor amigo.— Déjate llevar, y baila conmigo. —No. —El menor tomó de la cintura al pelirrojo haciendo que este inconscientemente (o quizás no tanto) abrazara con sus piernas el torso del más alto. Los ojos cafés de Shouyou le invadían tan en el fondo como sus azules lo hacían —¡BESO, BESO! Las voces de los menores en grupo coreaban sin perdón alguno esa palabra. Pero Tobio los ignoró a todos, aun y cuando los labios rosados del mayor le tentaban a ser acariciados con los suyos. Acurrucó en su pecho su cabellera alborotada caminando entre la gente que ahora abucheaba sus acciones. —Kageyama, ¿A dónde vamos? —A casa. —Hmmm, ¿Estoy pesado? —Tobio negó con la cabeza a la vez que buscaba con la mirada a sus empleados organizadores de la fiesta— Está bien. Entre las cabezas que giraban sin control al ritmo de la voz de Christina Aguilera a la par de Lil’ Kim* en sus susurros eróticos pudo reconocer a los chicos que buscaba atiborrados de alcohol en su sistema y muchos artículos de fiesta decorándoles. —¿¡Eh!? ¡No se vaya! —Reclamaba Kuroo tomando de las piernas a su jefe de cafetería fingiendo estar destrozado por dentro.— ¡Bro, dile algo! —¡Aún está por empezar lo mejor! —Pregonó Bokuto, el capitán de meseros de su local que tenía la camisa blanca abierta hasta el ombligo y varios collares de cuentas brillantes colgando de su largo cuello.—No puedo, mañana debo abrir temprano. El de cabello bicolor asomó su vista al pequeño que cargaba de una excéntrica manera, este abrazando sus caderas y su cuello dejándose recargar con cierto encanto acompañado a sus ojos cerrados. —Ohhhhh, ya veo. ¡Pícaro! —Gritó Koutarou abrazando a su amigo mientras señalaba la cabellera esponjosa del florista— ¡Mira, bro!—Bro… —La mirada esperanzada del de rebelde cabello oscuro compartió la euforia— ¡Hasta que se te hizo, Kageyama! Quien lo diría. —¡N-No es lo que creen, estúpidos! El par entre risitas sospechosas solo atisbó a hacer con señas de alejarlo lo más pronto posible del lugar. —Oh ho ho, váyase entonces, jefazo. ¡Recuerde la protección! —Oh ho ho, no se le vaya a olvidar, jefecito. —Ambos propinaron codazos a sus comentarios indecentes hacia Kageyama que seguía cargando al mayor pensando en lo afortunado que era de que mañana no se acordaría de esas conversaciones.— ¡Después recuérdeme que quiero los candentes detalles!—Y ustedes recuérdenme recortarles las propinas mañana al cuatro por ciento, ¿si? Las carcajadas de los muchachos casi universitarios invadieron sus oídos y con una media sonrisa perspicaz de ellos se marchó a su auto con Hinata dormido en sus brazos. Como pudo, logró subirlo al asiento del copiloto de su carro, sintiendo la calidez del chico desprenderse, Hinata suspiró en su oído con aire pretencioso, llamándolo “cariño”. Tobio esta noche tendría problemas sabiendo que compartiría su departamento con el mayor. Y tendría sobre todo que superar el hecho de que su amor no revelado debía salir tarde o temprano. Mientras tanto en un lugar separado a la animada fiesta de despedida, el investigador profesional Azumane cierra la puerta de su oficina ocultando a su fatídico alumno que reposa sobre su escritorio con una expresión relajada pero seria. —Pasa algo. ¿No es así? Nishinoya siempre ha sido directo, y ha entendido como leerlo a la perfección. Eso eran puntos menos para el, podía tenerlo como quería y él ni enterado se daría. —Si. —El hombre mayor se recarga a su lado en la orilla del escritorio— Hoy recibí… Hmm, tus flores.—Lo sé. ¿Te gustaron? —El de cabello largo asintió una vez, sin embargo el gesto de seriedad seguía ahí— Aunque pienso que ese no es el asunto. —De ahí va el punto. Nishinoya, necesitamos ser más discretos. —Somos discretos. ¿Crees que alguien lo sabe?—No es eso, es que… No puedes darme detalles así en público.—¿Te avergüenza?—¡No!—¿Entonces cuál es el problema? —La cosa es que no quiero que nadie sepa que estoy… Pues… Tú sabes. —Respiró profundo con el celular entre sus dedos, jugueteando con nervios a través de la silueta— Enamorado. La boca del menor se torció en una mueca, demostrando su completo desacuerdo. No entendía porque era malo. Sabía lo que podía pasar si se enteraban se su romance a escondidas, eso lo tenía claro. Pero, ¿Qué tenía que ver el hecho de que supieran que tenía un interés —No quieres que sepan que estás enamorado… Asahi, yo ya no quiero fingir estarlo. —El llanto empezó a juntarse su visión se nubló entre espacios— ¡Si a ti no te duele, entonces quiero ser como tú! ¿¡Qué debo hacer para que me entiendas y ames como yo te amo!?—¡No sé como me amas, Yuu! Las palabras del moreno reprimían los latidos de su corazón que se desbocaba entre la adrenalina de estar discutiendo dentro de la oficina de dirección. Eran las once de la noche, era obvio que estaría solo el lugar. Pero las cosas no estaban saliendo como debían. “ No se supone que debería ser así ”. Los pensamientos del líbero universitario no dejaban de atormentarlo. —¿¡A qué te refieres!? —¡A que no se si me ves como algo que de un rato! Eres muy joven, tienes muchos planes y cosas por hacer… Y yo, soy un adulto. Soy tu profesor, y alguien que ya ha vivido mucho.—Asahi.—¡No quiero! Quiero que vivas bien tu juventud, no quiero retenerte. —Por eso me evitabas. —Susurró el menor temblando, con su voz desgarrándose dentro de su garganta. El hueco de silencio armado entre ambas figuras se hizo renuente entre las paredes del pequeño cuarto. Las sienes le duelen, cuando grita le duele. Azumane mira hacia otro lado arrepentido, eso es evidencia de que lo dicho es muy cierto. —¡Yo te amo, Asahi! No hago otra cosa que pensar en ti cuando no puedo verte… No eres alguien más del montón, ni siquiera un trofeo o un capricho. —Yuu… —El profesor se acercó a él colocando las manos sobre sus mejillas acariciándole con círculos suaves alrededor de los mofletes que esta vez se sentían húmedos por las lágrimas traicioneras de sus ojos— Yo también te amo.—Entonces, ¿Por qué no me lo demuestras?—Es que por ahora no puedo hacerlo. Y tenía razón. Toda la bendita razón. Siempre la ha tenido desde esta relación que lleva seis meses en secreto, ocultándose detrás de las tutorías privadas. —Yuu. —El profesor besa su frente apartando ese mechón rubio tan rebelde. Toma su mano con cariño llevándola a su propio pecho— Vamos a casa. —A tu casa querrás decir. —Mi casa siempre será tu casa, por tanto es nuestra. Con una sonrisa pequeña aún con lágrimas esparcidas se abraza del brazo del mayor que toma sus cosas en un solo movimiento. Ambos salen por la gran puerta de la Universidad con cautela subiendo al auto color gris acero, un beso casto en los labios y dicen adiós a ese lugar donde siempre deben mantener la calma, resguardar sus impulsos y las ganas de besarse entre clases. Nishinoya no sabe si podrá soportarlo unos años más. Pero Asahi tampoco tiene idea. ¿Así es como se siente de verdad un amor prohibido? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Día a día de un florista"Capítulo tres: Imposible " Me pregunto quién sería el primero en descubrir la eficacia de la poesía para acabar con el amor .” -Orgullo y prejuicio (Jane Austen) ¿Quién eres? ¿Quién eres? ¿Quién eres? Necesitaba la respuesta, y así entre sombras de personas apretandolo como si de un festival de música se tratase nunca la encontraría. Un halo de oscuridad más densa lo dirige sobre la silueta en una esquina, su propio resplandor iluminaba a todos alejandolos de repente, como si repudiara a cualquiera con solo verles. ¿A quién podrías gustarle? "A mi." El susurro entra en sus oídos atrayéndolo con su grave voz, las letras arrastrando con sensualidad, su mirada recorre cada lugar buscando desesperado. Contra la pared un punto más oscuro que los demás gira sobre sí cerrando poco sus ojos envueltos en brillo azul, la luz de Hinata desciende fijándose en esa persona repleta de sombra, se acerca tomando su rostro entre sus manos. Es suave, aunque frío al tacto. Las tinieblas caen contra su chispa, dejan de envolverlo dejando ver la figura de una cara realmente conocida.—¿Kageyama?Abre sus ojos de golpe y el Sol golpea sus pupilas creando una capa de dolor en su cabeza, las punzadas recorren cada mechón alineado aleatoriamente. La mata anaranjada de cabello no se oculta entre las cobijas, más no se nota su rostro. —¡Oi! Despierta. — No hables tan alto, Bakayama... — Hinata siente su garganta tan seca que le cuesta expresarse hasta en voz baja. —¡No eres quien para decir eso, idiota! Entre jalones de cobijas y disparates, el florista logró incorporarse para tomar un par de aspirinas y algo de agua saborizada con limón. Hizo una mueca al principio, la mejora no tardó en aparecer. —Ahora levántate, ya hice el desayuno.—Amaneciste muy gruñón, Kageyama.—Dormir en el sillón, tus molestos ronquidos y lo de ayer son la clase de cosas que me pone de malas —Dijo secamente tomando un vaso de jugo mientras tomaba asiento en la mesa al igual que su contrario.— ¿Ayer? ¿Pasó algo malo ayer? Tobio le pone el celular frente a su rostro, la pantalla muestra su cuenta de F acebook en inicio, justo en un recuadro aparece el icono de reproducción, al parecer Tanaka, uno de los meseros del restaurante de Kageyama los había etiquetado en aquel corto vídeo tomado por una invitada de la fiesta. Toma el móvil entre sus manos no sin antes tomar un largo trago de café que calienta su cuerpo de una forma tan agradable. Reproduce el video tras pasar ese trago, gracias a las fuerzas místicas de Dios lo ha hecho, no puede creer lo que está mirando. Él está bailando, si, bai-lan-do. Encima de una mesa que claramente reconoce como el comedor de la fiesta de ayer, en definitiva está ebrio (Eso ni como dudarlo), entonces puede mirar que su amigo presente se acerca a tomarlo del brazo para llevarlo a casa. Entonces suena de fondo una melodía que le es familiar, sabe de antemano que no es bueno. —Mierda. —Kageyama se congela un segundo, el pelirrojo rara vez suele soltar una grosería— Es mi canción. "Oh, por Dios. ¡Mi canción! ¡Es mi canción!" escucha gritar al Shouyou del celular. Las siguientes escenas no son mejores cuando atrevidamente su yo del pasado se restriega inmiscuyéndose entre la suavidad de la camisa de Tobio danzando con erotismo, haciendo más intimo el roce. Puede ver su propia expresión de nada me interesa y como se lanza amarrándose del cuello del más alto mientras es coreada la palabra “ beso ” por las voces de los invitados. El video se detiene con un silencio incómodo siguiéndolo.—Mátame por favor, Kageyama.—¿Quieres cerrar la boca y ponerte a desayunar? Se nos va a hacer más tarde.—¿No estás molesto? —El pelinegro niega dando un bocado a un pan tostado, entre mordiscos logra decir que se les hará tarde— ¿Tarde? ¿¡Qué horas son!?—Pronto será medio día.—¡NOOOO! ¡Debo llegar a la casa y cambiarme! ¡Abriré demasiado tarde!—Olvídalo, Natsu va a abrir, le dije que estabas aquí. Te puedes duchar en el local, ya te llevó ropa. Hinata suspira largo y tendido. Su hermana ya ha abierto la tienda, todo está perfecto en ese caso. Con más calma bebe de un sorbo el jugo de naranja recién hecho mientras también devora sus panes tostados con miel y almendras. —Vaya, Kageyama. Me salvas la vida de nuevo. —Dice tras pasar otro trago de líquido.—Lo que sea. Vamos, que le prometiste a Bokuto algo.—¡Vamos! Los ojos azules se dispersan a otro lado en cuanto se pone de pie para recoger los trastes sucios. Y los estúpidos latidos vuelven a atacarle ahogándolo entre el calor y su propia respiración. —¡Buenas tardes! —Saludó el dueño del local con ánimos al ver solamente a su hermana menor cruzada de brazos detrás del mostrador. No necesitó ninguna señal para saber que debía arreglarse rápido para atender— ¡Bajo en unos minutos! El pelirrojo subió los escalones como bólido hacia la ducha de la casa de renta como local. La chica de las coletas rodó los ojos con una sonrisa plasmada en sus labios, devolvió la mirada al dueño del local a un lado. —Gracias por cuidarlo, Tobio. —Soltó amable, cambiando de forma paulatina su voz convirtiéndolas en un tono incitador— Espero te hubiera dejado dormir.—D-Debo ir a ver como va la cafetería. —Respondió Tobio coloreándose de pies a cabeza— ¿Podemos hablar de eso en un rato?—Claro. ¿Cuatro de la tarde? Con un asentimiento ambas partes quedaron claras. El sonido del agua en la planta alta cesó anunciando que debía moverse. Kageyama salió de la tienda aparentando tranquilidad y Natsu prosiguió a regar las plantas en el interior con la regadera metálica. Cuando su hermano bajó, sin mirarlo le tendió un sobre pequeño frente a sus ojos. —Llegó otra carta de tu admirador, ya estaba aquí cuando llegué. —Hmm... —Sonaba descontento pero aun así agarró el sobre— Aún creo que podría ser una broma.—Yo creo que alguien está loco por ti, Sho.—Tú crees que todos están locos por mi. La hermana de Shouyou siempre solía sacar comentarios de ese tipo, era la clase de persona que gustaba de hacer sentir a las personas. Eso la hacía agradable y refrescante como lo haría en el pasado Sugawara en su época de infantes. El muchacho revolvió el cabello de su hermana antes de abrir el sobre de papel delicado. Cada vez que sentía ese roce suave algo dentro de él se rompía. Una vez abierto, leyó en voz baja la frase, soltando un largo suspiro. “Saber que cada día estarás donde siempre puede convertir un largo día en segundos, que para mi desgracia, llegan a ser pocos para contemplarte." —¿Quién crees que sea? —Tal vez es "el indicado".—O un acosador. —¿Un sexy acosador?—Quisiera. —Respondió Shouyou con honestidad ganándose las risas de su la muchacha— Oye, ¿No ha venido Bokuto?—¿Koutarou? Nope. —Que raro, dijo que vendría a la una... La campanilla de la entrada interrumpió la conversación de los pelirrojos develando el ingreso del varón de cabello bicolor en su uniforme de mesero. Sino fuera por el contexto de conocerlo hubieran pensado que se trataba de un traje casual semi formal. Pantalones de vestir grises, camisa blanca de botones, su chaleco negro acompañado de un moño amarillo aflojado. —Hablando de. —Susurró divertida la jovencita hacia su superior de escuela. —¡Hey, hey, hey! —Llegas tarde, Koutarou. Le dijiste a mi hermano que vendrías a la una.—Lo siento, pero se llenó el lugar de la nada. —El estudiante de preparatoria juntó sus manos arrepentido casi en broma agregando— ¡Oh, Señor Hinata, lord y amo de las flores!—Y la homosexualidad, no lo olvides. —Agregó la menor.—Más respeto a sus mayores, ¿Quieren? Los adolescentes asintieron entre carcajadas inundando el local con su escándalo. —Necesito lo de siempre. —La voz de Bokuto parecía como si fuera a continuar con la frase, sin embargo no lo hizo. Y el florista sabía exactamente el por qué. —Pero un trescientos por ciento más especial, ¿Adivino?—Por algo eres el lord y amo de las flores.—Entonces, te entrego en tu hora de salida. —Mejor en mi casa, de hecho voy de salida. —Sus sonrisa hoy se veía con sentimientos encontrados, y sabían a tristeza. Los hermanos asintieron con comprensión— Bueno, espero las flores, ¿A las cinco?—Yamaguchi te las entrega a esa hora.—Todo estará bien. —Susurró la pelirroja en su oído abrazándole con dulzura para despedirle. No dijo nada más, sonriendo nuevamente. Antes de retirarse escribió una corta nota en la tarjeta para el ramo, una vez terminando salió despidiéndose con energía sin convencer a la dupla de hermanos. Dejando el local con un gran eco de desesperanza, gruñeron por lo bajo ante el aura quitando ello con la mirada. Debían seguir enérgicos y feroces para darle alegría a las flores de sus trabajos. —Bien. —El muchacho una vez dispuesto arremangó la tela de su sudadera además de colocarse el delantal verde bandera— ¿Qué pedidos tenemos hoy? La campanilla interrumpió de nuevo al varón que con una gran sonrisa gritó un "buenas tardes". Natsu llegó a pensar si de verdad alguien merecía el cariño de su hermano. Y rezó mentalmente por el chico de las tarjetas anónimas. En medio de las vías del transporte urbano apoyándose en el tubo del metro, Akaashi escuchaba música desconectando con el exterior. Las notas de las cuerdas clásicas hacían de lo que veía por la ventana. Los puentes y calles se movían constantes que hasta parecía repetirse el paisaje, todo era pacifico dentro de él mientras mantuviera alejado el hilo de sus pensamientos de ciertos inconvenientes dolosos. Más bien cierto inconveniente , que en vez de inconveniente era inesperado, además de que hacia de su futuro algo incierto. Un cambio de música alteró su tranquilidad haciendo vivos los recuerdos. El día que tropezó cayendo sobre Bokuto Koutarou en medio de la ceremonia de ingreso de primer año, y las vergonzosas decenas de disculpas que le ofreció. La primera práctica que tuvieron con el equipo de voleibol en la secundaria Fukurodani, con ello el balón que levantó para él en su juego en conjunto , ambos sintiendose en la misma frecuencia. Su largo abrazo cuando ganaron la final del torneo de la prefectura, junto a la extraña sensación de mariposas en el estómago cuando le vió sonreirle cuando tuvieron que separarse.Los sonrojos que le provocaba cuando piropeaba su aspecto al llegar, las manos tomadas bajo las mesas del comedor. El primer beso detrás del gimnasio al salir del entrenamiento previo a las nacionales, con la noche cubriendolos. Su confusión, la negación, el no mover las piezas para no crear un caos donde no debía haberlo . Su familia nunca lo habría permitido, la vida de Keiji estaba ya trazada. Y debía seguir la lista de metas inculcadas al pie de la letra.Lamentablemente también lo invadió el recuerdo del domingo pasado. Todo había pesado demasiado en su mente, y las cosas desde ese día no habían sido tan buenas. Ni siquiera había asistido a la fiesta en su honor por la despedida de Kuroo y Bokuto. Lo había evitado, era un cobarde. Como el domingo lo había sido el propio Koutarou. — Hey, hey, hey. El gutural saludo de aquellos momentos sumando el roce de sus labios en sus propias mejillas, envolverse en los brazos del contrario. Las noches de domingo eran el instante más preciado tras la barda del jardín de la casa de Akaashi. — ¿Perdido de nuevo? — Si, es una casualidad que siempre acabe detrás de tu casa. La risa baja del más alto tomó el control del ambiente, así era siempre, con una sonrisa Bokuto podía arreglar hasta las pérdidas totales. El ramo entregado fue digno de observarse buen rato. Una flor diferente había capturado su atención. — Esta es nueva. — Akaashi acarició un pétalo entre la yema de sus dedos. La sedosa textura lo hizo estremecer. — ¿Qué es? — Una magnolia. — Es preciosa. — Me tengo que ir ya, nos vemos luego. Un beso en la frente fue lo que recibió como respuesta ese día, antes de verlo partir como cada fin de semana previo a clases, trepó nuevamente el árbol cuidando las flores de que no se golpearan ni con el marco de la ventana. Al entrar nuevamente a su santuario tomó unas tijeras cortando el papel que las unía, las separó cuidadosamente para meterlas dentro de su gran atlas viejo. Ya que no podía conservarlas lo más que pudiera mantenerlas consigo, era secándolas. Tras finalizar su tarea ocultando el pesado libro en su mini biblioteca prosiguió a investigar tumbado en la cama con el celular en mano. Recuerda que ingresó en el buscador el significado de la nueva flor del ramo, y cayó rendido al leerlo en más de una página. Sus sentidos se inhibieron prolongando su llanto en silencio. Al parecer Koutarou se había enterado sobre ese acontecimiento que pasando un tiempo ocurriría. “Magnolia: Buenos deseos y prosperidad en un matrimonio.” La vibración del celular en su bolsillo lo sacó de su sueño, desbloqueó la pantalla al ver la luz blanca de notificación. Volvió a la realidad saliendo de su burbuja.—Koutarou. —Susurró por lo bajo con una pequeña sonrisa al leer el mensaje en su teléfono. La canción favorita de Bokuto dejó de sonar en sus oidos al menos. Las cuatro de la tarde habían marcado y Kageyama se había puesto la chaqueta ligera para salir de la cafetería junto a la bolsa de papel café que tenía preparada para sus vecinos pelirrojos. Kuroo y Tanaka le dieron una mirada atrevida con muchas confianzas, su jefe les regresó la mirada con una mueca torcida. —¡Oye! No desconfíes tanto de nosotros. Estará bien el negocio, tomate tu tiempo. —Tetsurou tomó una de las bandejas colocando unas rebanadas de pastel de fresa con helado en ella, dispuesto a entregarlos a la mesa cercana.—Así es, que Bokuto no este aquí no significa que haremos un desastre. —Afirmó el joven de cabeza rapada contando los billetes y ordenándolos en la caja registradora.—No me preocupa eso. —Suspiró tras respirar hondo, en lo que abría la puerta— En realidad me vino a la mente de cómo será el lugar cuando se vayan.—¡Después de todo si nos quieres, jefe! —Gritó el casi universitario empujándolo hacia la salida— Vendré lo más que pueda. Pero por favor, ya pídele noviazgo a Hinata, ¡Por el amor del Santo Patrono del Voleibol!—¡Se está tardando, jefazo! Los adolescentes sonrieron pícaros tras el fuerte golpe con que cerró su superior, y este con las orejas rojas y el ceño fruncido entró igualmente brusco asustando al par tras el mostrador, colocando la bolsa en el mismo. Natsu se aventuró rápidamente a abrirlo por el suave aroma del dulce, eran sus favoritos, los roles de canela famosos de la cafetería de Tobio.Shouyou apreció el gesto dándole un golpecito en la espalda al menor, pero agregando algo molesto unas palabras. —Bakageyama, no azotes mi puerta. ¿Qué tal si se rompe?—Pues, te la pago.—¡Ese no es el punto! La pelirroja de las coletas ocultó su risa tras el trozo de pan que eligió. —¿De qué te ríes tú? —Preguntó seco Tobio.—¡Es que parecen una pareja de ancianos casados!—¡Natsu! Déjenme comer por el amor de... Atravesando la puerta, entre el sonido de campanillas y el aroma del glaseado de los roles de canela recién horneados, apareció una figura masculina, justo antes de que los tres comenzaran a devorar los panecillos cortesía de Kageyama. Quien incluso había dejado caer el postre por la imagen frente a ellos. Un jovencito que seguramente se veía tan joven como lo era el propio florista, pequeño de ojos grandes, expresión felina entre el color ámbar que dominaba sus pupilas y esa característica combinación de tonos curiosos. No podía ser otra persona más que ese viejo conocido que nadie pensaba volverían a ver. —Buenas tardes, Shouyou.—¿Kenma? Ambos adultos se quedaron conectando miradas por unos segundos antes de que el eufórico dueño de la florería saltara sobre el mostrador lanzándose a abrazarlo con alegría. —¡Kenma! —El pálido muchacho ajustó el abrazo— ¿Por qué no me dijiste que vendrías?—Porque solo vengo de paso, y sabes que no me gusta ser centro de atenciones. La pelirroja carraspeó claramente buscando que la dupla se separara para evaporar la incomodidad del pelinegro a su lado, que en ese momento no podía más que arder internamente (aunque podía verse claramente su enfado pero sobre todo, los celos de no ser quien estuviera siendo rodeado) con su aura oscura alrededor. El rubio teñido soltó al muchacho mirando a la chica con una curva discreta en sus labios. —Hola, Natsu.—Buenas tardes, Kenma. —Dijo amable y sonriente apartándose del escritorio para abrazarlo también— ¡Cuanto tiempo! ¿Qué haces por Miyagi?—Te hacíamos en Tokio. —Agregó Kageyama con seriedad en su áspera voz llamando la atención de Kozume.—Kageyama. —Repuso asintiendo con cortesía aun cuando sabía no era muy bien recibido— Vengo por asuntos de trabajo, busco becarios interesados en investigación para proyectos de mi laboratorio.—Ya veo. Cosas científicas. —Murmuró el Hinata mayor en voz baja haciéndose escuchar por Tobio— Eso sonó grosero, Kageyama.—Como sea. —Respondió frustrado por las actitudes del más bajo defendiéndolo a él— Me haré un café, usaré la cocina. —Bien. —¿Quieren una taza? —Preguntó al aire recibiendo una negativa silenciosa con cortesía en ella y una mirada leve de enfado por parte del florista. —Paso por hoy. Natsu tragó saliva ante la tensión que se estaba formando entre ambos adultos jóvenes. Con avidez se quitó el delantal y arribó a empujar al pelinegro hacia la recámara continua. —¡Yo si quiero! Es más, tomaré mi descanso.—No bebas más de una taza, Natsu.—Claro, claro. El par de muchachos ajenos al reencuentro iba en camino a la cocina. Antes de ello, Tobio estaba por preguntar algo a ambos de nuevo, cuando sus ojos se tornaron más abiertos. La mano de Kenma mostrando entregándole a Shouyou un sobre blanco de aspecto realmente familiar. —Esto es para ti, supongo. Lo hallé en la puerta cuando iba a entrar. Las mejillas coloradas del pelirrojo, sus ojos mirando con ilusión y curiosidad ese trozo de papel. Y después nada más pudo sentir el jalón en su brazo por parte de la señorita llevándolo al cuarto contiguo. La ducha fría no le había servido de mucho. Su cabeza seguía dándole vueltas llena de calor figurativo, recordó el consejo de su madre por unos segundos. "Uno no debe actuar con la cabeza caliente. Asiente tus ideas, primero." ¿Qué procedía si ya han pasado horas desde el pensamiento que encendió sus sentidos? Tirado en su cama Koutarou se seca el cabello con la toalla, sacudiéndolo para quitar los restos de humedad.El timbre del departamento resonó entre las paredes. Se sentó sobre las cobijas para colocarse la camiseta interior y la playera azul grisácea, tras haberse impregnado bien el desodorante en su axilas y así no mancharlas. Sus pantalones ya los traía puestos, así que no había ningún inconveniente para no ir a la entrada.Al abrir la puerta, un jovencito con una gorra verde como el césped le miraba con una brillante sonrisa que destacaba entre su piel aperlada amarillenta y sus múltiples pecas bajo sus ojos invadiendo sus mejillas. —Hola, Bokuto. —El castaño buscó dentro de su mochila la tabla para corroborar entregas y de la caja detrás de la motoneta roja que conducía, el ramo de las flores solicitado con sumo cuidado— Aquí está tu entrega.—Vaya… —Respondió el de cabello bicolor anonadado, las flores que siempre solía pedirle al florista hoy se veían diferentes, incluso más brillantes que antes— Se ha lucido esta vez tu jefe, Guchi.—Hinata siempre se esmera. —Respondió el repartidor mostrándole la tabla en la que debía firmar para retirarse. Lo observó quedarse quieto ante las flores en su vista— Bokuto. “—El señor Hinata me dijo que las rosas de color durazno significan vida, y con ello un camino por seguir. Y que estás blancas pomposas… —Se llaman peonías, Bokuto. Su sonrisa, las risas ante su idiotez momentánea, y hasta los colores que se le subían cuando la vergüenza no lo daba para más. Era lo más bello y magnifico en su campo de visión. En su realidad. — Son mis sentimientos, Akaashi. Acéptalos. ” —¡Bokuto! —La voz del pecoso Yamaguchi ahora había sido recia, como si hubiera intentado hablarle todo este tiempo. Sus ojos lo miraban enternecido.— Lo siento, no debí… —No te disculpes. Después de todo me distraje. Bokuto terminó de firmar en la tableta y le dio el pago del ramo más un cuanto dinero extra de propina por su labor. Tadashi lo envolvió en un abrazo suave que después agradeció. Hoy se veía al parecer como un tipo al cual debían tener en brazos.Después de agradecer y cerrar puerta las preguntas lo volvieron a invadir además de los recuerdos. “Te amo, te amo, mil veces te amo.” Eso era lo que él había dicho desde un principio, y lo seguía repitiendo aun y cuando se las sabía de perder. ¿Tenía que haberse arrepentido cuando tuvo oportunidad? ¿De verdad se arrepentía de haber amado a Keiji? Un chico que ahora era inevitable ver irse, entre su futuro brillante y el cariño de una mujer no tan lejano a su realidad. Su cabeza estaba hecha estragos por el pensamiento que volvió a cruzar encendiéndolo de coraje.Su celular zumbó con el nombre de pila de Akaashi en la pantalla sin desbloquear como despertándolo de su pequeño ataque de desesperación. Se terminó de alistar para salir con el ramo entre sus dedos. No, en definitiva nunca se arrepentiría de haber tenido esos sentimientos. La llegada de Kenma en la tienda si que había sido una increíble sorpresa. Aún ambos seguían con los ojos abiertos de la tensión dentro de la pequeña cocina en la parte de atrás del local—¿Crees que sea él? Es imposible, no ha estado aquí desde hace meses.—No lo dudaría, quizás se alió con alguien que está aquí para vigilarlo y saber que escribir. —Replicó Natsu entre susurros mientras aseaba las tazas del fregadero.—Ni siquiera tiene cara de escribir cosas de ese tipo. —Tu tampoco la tienes. La cara de Kageyama se tornó del color de la camiseta de la muchacha, esto provocó las risas de la menor que seguía con su labor. Al terminar de secar la vajilla pasó las piezas al más alto para que las ordenara en la alacena, mientras este acomodaba, la pelirroja se cruzaba de brazos pensando como solucionar el problema. —¿Se te ocurrió algo?—No sé porque me preguntas, Tobio. —Los ojos pasaron de las viejas puertas de la casa a la mirada azul— Sabes que te diré lo mismo de siempre.—No estoy listo para confesarme.—¡Ay, por favor! ¿Quieres que te ganen?—¡Por supuesto que no!—Mi hermano es muy querido por todos, no dudes en que alguien podría adelantarse… —Kageyama sentía la tensión en sus músculos de la espalda, la chica tenía toda la razón. Si no hacía algo, su anónimo rival podría llevárselo de su lado.— ¿Entiendes? Asintió callado. Sin embargo no podía hacer mucho en ese momento. Si de por si le podía ser difícil expresar sus sentimientos, más iba a serlo el revelar ese secreto a quien ha sido su mejor amigo desde la preparatoria. Había mucho en juego. —Lo siento, pero aún no puedo hacerlo.—No tienes porque disculparte, vamos, te ayudo con lo de mañana. La sonrisa de la Hinata menor encandiló sus ojos, aunque su carácter era más tedioso y difícil que el de su hermano, la mayor parte del tiempo era tan parecida a él. En especial cuando mostraba el brillo de sus dientes formando esa mueca de lado. Tomó una hoja de papel laminado y le pasó el estilógrafo de tinta dorada, viéndola dibujar líneas orgánicas sobre el. —¿Qué le quieres decir mañana? La misma frase de su Hinata cuando dedicaba flores. Si, era idéntica a su hermano en muchos aspectos. Observando por la amplia ventana de su recámara en el segundo piso, con su ropa habitual de casa entre sus pants deportivos y la playera del año pasado del torneo. Keiji terminaba de retirar los marcos de fotos en su buró para empacarlos en su pequeña maleta. El viaje de mañana le repercutía con creces, todo auguraba a que un mundo diferente se le vendría encima junto al extrañar día a día su vida como es ahora. La vida de la escuela, sus compañeros de clase, los amigos que hizo en el equipo de voleibol. A Koutarou. Definitivo, él era a quien más iba a extrañar en el futuro. Aunque le hubiera gritado aquella noche, aunque no hubiera asistido a su fiesta de despedida, aunque se metiera en sus planes retorciéndolos a su merced. No había planeado ello, su plan no era quererlo tanto.Como siempre, en cada domingo por la noche, los golpecitos de piedras pequeñas a su cristal se hacían presentes rodeando su cuarto con el sonido del llamado. El joven de piel amarillenta asomó su rostro viendo a su compañero de escapadas, Bokuto Koutarou sonreír en su dirección con un brazo oculto tras su espalda. Estaba del lado contrario a la gran barda de enredaderas con hojas. Akaashi salió trepando el árbol cercano al jardín vertical, que era la única manera factible de pasar sin ser vistos por el velador de la gran casa oculta entre las montañas de la prefectura de Miyagi.Al bajar de la rama donde colgaba, sus pies caen en cuclillas ligeramente al asfalto tras la barda limitante. No alcanza a mirarlo al incorporarse por el ramo que se atraviesa entre sus rostros. Las flores caen rozando su frente, después es depositado en sus manos. Reconoció de que lugar provenía aquel bonito arreglo, al igual que reconocía las coloridas flores y los significados que venían implícitos. Después de todo, eran las flores que siempre solía regalarle. — Acéptalas. Son mis sentimientos. — No puedo, Bokuto. —Siempre era la misma frase acompañada de esas bellas flores . — Hazlo. También es mi despedida. Esa sonrisa hueca que solía poner cuando el llanto quería corromperlo. Estrujó entre sus largos dedos el elegante papel encerado que envolvía el ramo. Tembló mordiéndose la lengua con coraje y rabia. Sabía que estaba haciendo mal, eso no fue contemplado en sus planes. "No son tus planes, tú no lo creaste. Ellos planearon todo sin consultarte, todo para ti." Pensó.Ese pensamiento tan recurrente, estropeando sus días organizados para el futuro. Recordó el ramo que sostenía con tanto esfuerzo para no romperse. “Son mis sentimientos, Akaashi. Acéptalos”. La voz de la primera vez que le regaló esas flores volvió a golpearlo. Pensó el menor cerrando sus ojos verdes. —¡Akaashi, te amo! La voz entrecortada producto del nerviosismo que le causaba el muchacho del cabello bicolor no le dejaba responder con claridad. Carraspeó despejando no solo sus cuerdas vocales, sino también dudas. —Bokuto, sabes que no te puedo corresponder. — No tienes que hacerlo. — Si, tengo que. — La voz del castaño aumentaba de tono buscando imponerse, el coraje en sus adentros queriendo escapar salía de su boca — Si pudiera amarte de vuelta sé que funcionaría. —Siempre dices "si pudiera". Yo sé que me amas, sino ni siquiera estarías hablando conmigo. El silencio clama la ausencia de palabras, ocultando su boca tras los pétalos de las peonías. No quiere responder, se niega a hacerlo —Me amas. —La seguridad en la voz del más alto era reacia, llena de posibilidad. — No debo. — Tú lo has dicho, no debes. — Las manos del mayor se entretuvieron en los mechones de su pelo enmarañado — Pero me amas. — Me voy mañana, y sabes que no voy a regresar. —Lo sé. Koutarou atrapó los labios del muchacho entre los suyos, dejando una mordida que abriría la boca del castaño en un suspiro cálido. Sus manos amplias bajaron acariciándole las mejillas, memorizando la suavidad de su piel aperlada, los hoyuelos que se colaban formando su sonrisa, pero sobre todas las cosas, estaba grabando con su mirada esa inolvidable imagen que al separarse inundó sus pupilas: Keiji sonrojado tras un beso esperado. Ello seguiría invadiendo su mente, aun cuando Akaashi huía de vuelta al portón de su jardín alejándose, dejándolo solo para evitarle el sufrimiento de lo que mañana podría destruirle.El de cabello bicolor toma su teléfono celular marcando una tecla rápida. —Bro, ya voy a casa. —Todo lo dice balbuceando entre los repetidos sollozos que corren tras los lamentos que sin querer se cuelan al igual que las lágrimas en sus mejillas— Estoy bien. Cuelga el dispositivo continuando con su camino a la avenida, restregando sus ojos contra el material impermeable de su chaqueta deportiva. Sin disculparse, esperando que algún día ambos se volverían a encontrar. Si, todo estaba bien. "Los caminos son solitarios, a veces se cruzan convirtiéndose en uno, para en un momento otra vez separarse. En cualquier instante volveremos a coincidir. Siempre tuyo. — Koutarou." El día había concluido perfectamente entre pedidos y cosas adelantadas, visitas inesperadas y uno que otro roce de molestia con su mejor amigo. Aun así la noche había caído y como en todas las noches sin nada que hacer, saldrían Tobio y él a practicar como en los viejos tiempos de secundaria en el campo de voleibol de los Ukai.Tras cerrar, metió las llaves en sus bolsillos chocando con el sobre donde venía la nota que en sus manos hoy era tan cálida, la que le había otorgado Kenma. Pudo sentirse perfecta y sensible ante el tacto de cualquier, el escritor de las notas anónimas estaba escarbando muy profundo en su interior. Abrió de nueva cuenta para volver a leer ello. Y suspirar fuerte como la primera vez que la leyó. “Somos señales de fragilidad, fragmentos que podrían unirse y así volvernos más fuertes. ¿Cuándo podremos acabar en algo así?" ¿Era una casualidad que Kenma le hubiera dado esa carta el día de hoy? ¿Una señal acaso? Tal vez era una segunda oportunidad lo que buscaba, tal vez. —¡Hinata idiota, vamos! ¡Ukai no nos dejará usar mañana el campo para jugar!—¡Voy! —Gritó el pelirrojo metiendo de nuevo en sus bolsillos el sobre con delicadeza, mientras — ¡Ni me grites que sigo algo molesto!—Bien, levantaré más balones hoy para ti.Y el corazón de Hinata dio un vuelco al cruzar sus ojos con Kageyama, a la vez que en su mente la pregunta se repetía. Corrieron de nuevo en una carrera sin sentido. También buscaba saber si los sentimientos confundidos que llevaba escondiendo por él volverían a brotar después de tanto tiempo. "¿Quién eres? ¿Quién eres? ¿Quién eres?" Preguntaba el florista en su mente al autor misterioso. Necesitaba la respuesta.
11347731	Bloody Ocean Waves	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": null, "Characters": "Lance, Keith, Pidge, Shiro, Hunk, Allura (Voltron), Coran, Ghoul - Character, Ghoul Lance - Character, galra keith - Character", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Gardian", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "1,985", "Additional Tags": "Langst, Adopted Fic", "Relationship": "Klance - Relationship", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "M/M, Other", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	When we had liberated a planet of six armed humanoid aliens, one has asked me how we managed to do anything with only two arms. At the time I had responded with a cheesy pick up line telling her “I only need one arm to write down your number.”However now that I’m stood at the edge of the stream attempting to remove my armour one handed, I really do appreciate usually having two. I stumbled on the wet rocks for probably the seventh time and would of fallen if I hadn’t of caught myself with my kaguneI felt Keith’s eyes on me, it seemed like since we had gotten out of the red lion he hadn’t stopped staring at me. I tried my best to ignore the feeling of someone I considered a friend watching my every movement like I could pounce and devour him any moment.As I tugged at my undershirt unsuccessfully I heard a sigh from Keith behind me.“Need a hand?”I couldn’t help the groan that escaped my lips as I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Was that supposed to be a joke? Cause if it was I am both incredibly proud and ticked off at the same time.”For a moment Keith’s expression showed his confusion before morphing into realisation “I…I didn’t mean it like that.” He said quickly, his ears flattering to his head.I shrugged one shoulder “yeah.”“Yeah what?” He asked.“Yeah…I could use a hand.”It was embarrassing having Keith help undress me, but atleest it let me pretend that it was because he was concentrating that he didn’t look me in the eye.It took longer than I would have liked it, but eventually the both of us were down to our underwear and washing off the dirt and blood in the water.It was weird seeing Keith all purple and fuzzy. He looked so unsure of how exactly to clean himself, but eventually seemed to figure it out and sat down in the slow moving current as he worked on getting the blood out of his matted fur.It wasn’t until the wind changed direction did I see the downside of the bath.“Ewww what smells like wet dog?” I covered my sensitive nose glaring at Keith accusingly while he looked around trying to spot the space equivalent of a puppy.“I don’t smell anything” he shrugged as if that settled the matter.I moved closer sniffing the air. “Dude it’s you!” I pointed at him accusingly.Until that moment I hadn’t known it possible for a Galra to blush. But the darkening purple of his cheeks and the flattening of his ears sure did look like blushing to me.I grinned as I squatted in the water next to him poking him in the cheek. “Aww, I think we just answered the question about what Galra do when their embarrassed.”“I’m not embarrassed and I’m not Galra.” Keith huffed crossing his arms and scooting so I could poke him.“You sure do look it.” I teased“Shut up! It’s not my fault that Haggar made us the enemy.” Keith yelled turning around and snarling at me.Us the enemy…For a moment I’d forgotten he saw me as a Ghoul, for a brief wonderful moment I had kidded myself into thinking that it was ok, that Keith didn’t think like other humans did. That he wasn’t scared of me.But he saw Ghouls as an enemy, an enemy on level with a empire set of ruling the universe by exterminating any species that got in their way. He saw my kind as nothing more than monsters.My eyes felt wet as I stood up, the tears forming faster than I could wipe them away. I can never tell him what I really am.“I’m done.” I mumbled as I wade out of the water and back onto dry land where we left the towels and clothes.I didn’t say anything while I dried and changed into the slightly too small black pants and shirt.I didn’t say anything when Keith joined me, shaking his head like a dog to clear the water from his fur.I didn’t say anything as we collected fire wood together.I didn’t say anything when Keith got the fire burning and cooked a tin of food.I didn’t say anything when I handed back the share he gave me, I couldn’t eat it and he knew it too.“I’m sorry…” Keith eventually said after the sun had long since set.I nodded staring at the fire, I was sure he expected an apology from me too, but I just wasn’t in the mood to give one.“I got so caught up in looking like… this” he gestured to himself in disgust “That I never even took a second to consider how you must be feeling. I may have woken up as a monster but at least I can still eat…and not have to eat others.”I could tell he was trying, I know that feelings are hard for him. But every word just made me feel worse and worse.“Stop… its fine.” I said quietly.“But it’s not fine Lance! What if you can’t eat at all? You’ll starve to death and… and I can’t get through this alone. If you hadn’t been there to pull me out of red, or to calm me down when I saw what happened to me…then I wouldn’t be here right now. I need you and unless we can figure out how to reverse this and return to normal then…I’m going to lose you.”I stared at him for a moment. Keith wasn’t disgusted or scared of me, he was worried and he was scared.“Don’t worry buddy, we’ll figure something out.” I smiled as I moved closer to him. “Now get your fury butt over here I’m freezing.” I joked as I pulled him under the blanket with me.The extra body heat was nice in the cool night air, it was no surprise Keith was fast asleep only minutes later.I however was awake for hours.Keith thought that all we had to do was reverse what happened and everything would be fine. But even if things did return to normal I would still be starving.I would still be on borrowed time and soon I would end up leaving Keith all alone, if I wanted to or not. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- I didn’t sleep. How could I when my heart was hammering in my chest and every time I closed my eyes all I saw was Keith standing over me calling me a monster.By time the sun poked over the horizon I gave up pretending and decided to actually make myself useful. Just because I couldn’t eat didn’t mean Keith should go hungry?When I was a kid I always wanted to go fishing. Not because I wanted to eat the fish or just for sport, I just wanted to go on the off chance I would catch a mermaid.However I never actually managed to go since Mama thought it was cruel to kill something if you weren’t going to eat it, but that didn’t stop me from learning everything I could in a vain attempt to convince her I should be allowed to go mermaid hunting.I stood by the edge of the water peering down, I had a hunch that if I waited long enough then I would find one. The day before I hadn’t seen any signs of fish, but to be fair we had been splashing about and likely scared them all of.Time ticked by with no signs of them. I was about to give up and try the forest for fruit when I saw it.It was a crab like creature, with an armoured shell I had mistaken for a dull looking rock. It was about the size and shape of a football with at least a dozen beady eyes on its back. It certainly looked weird, but I was betting it was also edible.I slowly reached into the water to pick it up not at all worried by its pinchers. After all Ghouls skin was too touch for a knife to cut through, let alone a little crab.However soon as I had him in my hand large spike shot out of the shell not only going through my skin but also coming out the other side.I cried out in pain as I threw it down on the rocks as hard as I could, blood dripping from my hand.“Lance!” Keith yelled bolding up from the camp sight to my side. I felt kind of bad that I had woken him up, but I was too focused on the burning pain in my hand. “Lance what happened?! Keith asked looking around panicked as if he were expecting an enemy to materialise from the water.His eyes fell on my blood soaked hand, widening in realisation.“Crab.” I mumbled through gritted teeth.“Language.” He replied automatically.I almost laughed at that. “No crab.” I nodded to the crab still lying where I had left it. From the looks of things I had cracked its shell when id thrown it to the ground and now it was either dead or dying.“A crab did this?” Keith asked reaching down to pick it up.“Wait!” I yelled. “It has these spike things, and they pieced through Ghoul skin like it was paper.”Keith nodded taking a knife out of his belt and poked the crab. Soon as he made contact the spikes were triggered, but the crab itself didn’t move. I guessed it was a natural response rather then a conscious one.Careful as to avoid the spikes, Keith plunged his knife into the crack just to make sure it was dead. Once satisfied he picked it up being careful not to stab himself as he carried it back to camp. “Do you want to tell me why you decided to pick up a weird alien crab?” Keith asked as he bandaged my hand. The bleeding had yet to stop and hadn’t started to heal yet. It could be from the lack of food, but my arm had already started to regrow, the missing limb now a small stump.“Breakfast?” I shrugged wincing when he tied off the bandage.“I don’t care if you’re hungry, we’re on an unknown planet, and you can’t just go around picking up whatever you want.”“It was for you.” I said quietly.His ears instantly drooped as he remembered I couldn’t eat what he could. “Oh…”“Can’t have you dying on me can I? Need my heater.” I added quickly, things were getting too serious, too many questions with answers either of us want to admit.Keith rolled his eyes “Whatever.” He grinned but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. I watched as he turned to the crab and began to remove the shell from the meat.He carefully pulled each Spike out and placed it on a cloth near the fire.As he went I realised I felt light headed. At first I assumed it was the blood loss but as time passed my vision began to get fuzzy and my hearing kept cutting out.I stood up suddenly feeling like I was going to throw up my none existent meal.Keith looked up at me. His lips saying something but I couldn’t figure it out unable to hear him over the ringing in my ears.The world around me suddenly tilted and I found myself lying on the floor with Keith hurrying over to my yelling my name asking what was wrong.“Lance! Lance!”Keith’s frantic screams was the last thing I heard before my vison went black and I found myself floating into peaceful nothingness.
11342817	Last Night	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Gwendolen [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2001-09-30T00:00:00", "words": "144", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement, TER/MA", "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 }	Last Night by GwendolenTitle: Last Night Author: Gwendolen E-mail: Rating: PG-13 Archive: RatB, DitB, GSSU, everyone else please ask Disclaimer: The characters unfortunately belong to CC who doesn't know what to do with them. I'm all for a divorce based on character-mistreatment. Notes: First published in a zine, though I would have to look up in which oneLast Night by GwendolenLast Night After we made love I held you in my arms And watched you fall asleep.Last Night While you lay sleeping I guarded you Against the mares of night.Last Night While you lay sleeping I tried to tell you That I love youLast Night While you lay sleeping I tried to explain Why I had to betray you.Last Night After I left you I wondered what mistake I'd made.February 23, 1998 Archived: September 21, 2001
11329944	Someplace to Go	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Ann Page [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2002-02-15T00:00:00", "words": "817", "Additional Tags": "Relationship(s)", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement, All Things Rat", "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 }	Someplace to GoChallenge: Place: office building Words: fly grave burden Phrase: "I want you to remember."Someplace to Go By Ann page The note: "Meet me here," followed by an address and a distinctive 'JS'. It was an office building, that much was clear, but why was he meeting me here? A dilapidated, run down, brick building that housed senior citizen's accountants and struggling lawyers. I could have easily met him at his apartment or some out of the way diner. Scrutinizing the main doorway from across the street, I shifted in my boots. Why here? Crossing, I dodged some cars, automatically hiding my face, playing the hidden, unknown element to the max. If no one saw you, then you weren't there. It had taken me a while to build the prosthesis into the camouflage.When I entered the building, I immediately saw Jeffery sitting in a plastic chair, carelessly bouncing his knee against the wall. It had been weeks since I'd seen him and the rush of love and lust that suddenly hit me became a heavy burden that somehow had been there all along, unnoticed and unconsciously treasured. He noticed me hesitating in the doorway and his brown eyes warmed as he stood up.His restless impatience, present only a minute ago, drained from his posture and he moved over to where I was standing. "Alex." His smile was quiet. "I missed you." He took my hand and led me through a short hallway and up a flight of stairs. Again, I wanted to ask what was going on but I resisted, happy for the moment that he had sought me out. Besides, we were standing outside a door and my curiosity was about to be satisfied."What are we doing, Jeff?" I meant it on more than one level. NowÖ When we could be somewhere else, wrapped in each otherÖ Do I deserve him? The brief trip into self pity land didn't last and did not show itself on my face."He needed the color of your eyes," Jeff said cryptically and pushed open the door. The smell of oil paints and turpentine drifted into my senses. It was a small studio, with a collage of paintings crammed in every available space, some finished, some not. A tall man with grave colored eyes and dusty hair peeked around a portrait, before hurrying out and embracing my Jeff, kissing him noisily on the corner of his mouth. I stiffened with jealousy until he turned and kissed me there as well."You must be Alex. Jeffery has told me so much about you. He grasped my shoulders and stared into my eyes. I was on the verge of squirming when he released me and said "I can do this." He went over to a workbench and began mixing paints. I looked at Jeff, questions and possible accusations in my eyes."No, no, it's not like that." He smiled. "I could give him almost everything, but the color of your eyes was always wrong." He glanced at the floor before leaning towards me and kissing me. I eagerly moved into him and the long awaited taste of my lover made my pulse fly and barely hold onto the fragments of flesh containing it. When Jeff pulled away, I almost whimpered. The demands of my denied body could not be met here and I grimaced. He only laughed and hugged me. "Ah, Alex. I love you."I was somewhat stunned by the admission and it was easy for him to maneuver me over to the bench, where the artist was putting two small objects under a heat lamp. "Five minutes to dry and you can take them home. Now, about paymentÖ""Of course." Jeffery walked with the man to a small desk I hadn't noticed earlier and took out a credit card. I turned to study what was under the lamp. Biting my lip, I poured over four small paintings. Two compacts, each with a small painting of Jeff's face and one of mine. Identical silver engraved cases I discovered when the timer went off and I could pick one up. I didn't notice Jeff sneaking up behind me until his arms snaked around my waist and his chin dug into my shoulder, looking over me at the miniatures."Why?" I was still staring, unable to comprehend what this could mean."I want you to remember that you have someplace to be, to come home to." I turned to him and gently kissed him on the lips."I think I love you." I hoped it would be enough for now."Let's go home." He closed one compact and put it in the inner pocket of my leather jacket, brushing his fingers against my nipple with a wicked grin. The other he put in his suit coat and then pinned me with his eyes. "Always, Alex.""Always."end
11392002	Sunday Mornings	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Remus Lupin, Reader", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by the_only_education_worth_having", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "1,133", "Additional Tags": "Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Angst, Character Death, Death", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin/Reader", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/M, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Sundays were by far your favourite day of the week. No responsibilities, no rushing, just relaxing. Your job at the bookshop in Diagon Alley kept you busy 6 days of the week and left virtually no time for a life. But Sundays, Sundays were your days. Last week, for instance, you awoke as you usually did to sunlight streaming through the window. The curtains had made a feeble attempt to block the harsh light from waking you. You had raised your head bleary-eyed and looked at the clock. 7:34 AM. Far too early to get up yet, in your opinion, and so you turned your body to face the other way. As you did this your face had rolled into the crook of an arm and your head came to rest below a lightly stubbled chin. An arm had snaked its way down your back and a hand had come to rest on your hip.‘Morning,’ Remus had mumbled quietly, not really waking, whilst adjusting himself to the new position. You had smiled and closed your eyes, drifting back off to sleep. When you awoke again it was late morning. You found that you hadn’t moved, though this time Remus had wrapped both his arms around you. You looked up into his face to find him looking down at you. The sunlight wasn’t as harsh as before but it gently cascaded across his face highlighting the lines and scars that aged him greatly. He had smiled and said, 'Morning.’'Morning,’ you smiled back. Yawning you asked, 'Were you watching me sleep again?’'No’ Remus said sincerely, though a smile had tugged at his lips.'You know it’s weird, right?’'I disagree…. it’s peaceful. Soothing.’'Weird. Creepy,’ you argued back playfully, swatting his chest. Remus sighed and rolled his eyes.You’d had this argument a million times before. Every Sunday you’d wake to find him watching you sleep. You’d tell him it was creepy, that normal people didn’t just watch people sleep and he’d argue right back. Rolling his eyes and he pretended that you had changed his mind even though you knew you hadn’t. Honestly, you didn’t even mind it that much it had just become routine by now. You knew it reassured him, he’d lost everyone in his life so just having you close, and watching you sleep made him feel better. He knew you were safe and it comforted him.Sometime later you had both agreed that you couldn’t stay in bed any longer and had gotten out of bed. You pottered into the bathroom to shower whilst Remus went downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast. He was sweet like that, and also you were a terrible cook. Ten minutes later you descended the stairs and entered the kitchen to find scrambled eggs on toast and a cup of tea waiting for you. Remus had sat at the table occasionally nibbling at a piece of toast whilst buried behind Saturday’s copy of the Daily Prophet. After breakfast, both of you started to tidy up the house. Washing up and laundry was usually top of the list, as you had little time to do it after work and Remus was constantly busy with the order. It didn’t take long and it made you laugh to hear Remus singing to the radio. You had watched him from the doorway as he folded sheets and clothes gently swaying his hips and singing softly. Like most times he’d caught you and forced you to join in.Lunch was missed due to getting up late and the two of you had headed out for the day. The order was quiet on Sundays usually but on occasion, a meeting would take up most of your day. On that day you’d decided to head into town to shop, but sometimes you would travel up to a wizarding town like Hogsmeade and spend the day around the shops or in the pub. Sundays near the full moon were mostly spent in bed. Usually, food was ordered in and eaten in bed whilst watching TV.At dusk, you had decided to head for home. Remus had cooked whilst you flicked through the channels trying to find something to watch before deciding to put on a film instead. Before you two settled down on the couch Remus nipped to the corner shop and replenished his chocolate stash so you could stuff yourselves whilst watching TV. Near the end of the film, you’d felt Remus’ breathing slow and had gently got raised yourself off him and got up. You’d moved the chocolate wrappers and glasses from the coffee table and headed to the kitchen. Throwing the wrappers away, and rinsing the glasses you’d padded back to the living room to switch off the TV. Once you came back in Remus stirred. He stretched and rubbed his eyes. You offered your hand to help him and once upright he pulled you into a hug. Resting your forehead on his you closed your eyes. His lips brushed yours and you sighed. Opening your eyes you led him upstairs where both of you changed for bed. Climbing under the covers your bodies found each other. His arms came around you, his lips pressing a kiss on the top of your head.'I love you Y/N,’ he’d murmured.'Love you too,’ you’d replied before going to sleep.Sundays were your days. But now it was different. Today would be different.Yes, you would wake to the harsh sunlight streaming through the curtains but when you rolled over there would be nothing but cold sheets. You wouldn’t lounge around in bed, but instead, you would get up quickly and head to the shower. On autopilot would wash and dress before heading downstairs to make breakfast that would be composed of soggy toast and a cup of tea.After this, you would start the chores with laundry and washing still the top priority. Except now they would be done in silence, and when you’d put clothes into the wardrobe you’d linger for a minute or two, allowing his scent to wash over and tears to silently run down your face. After composing yourself you would head out. You found that the longer you were in the house you sadder you became so you would head to a friend’s house or the burrow to surround yourself with people. You liked this, it helped you to space out, forcing you not to think of him. It also helped you to be with people who understoodEventually, very late in the evening, you would inevitably head home. Tired you climbed into bed, longing for sleep, but you knew you would find yourself staring at the ceiling, allowing the sadness to wash over and the tears to flow freely.
11342676	Eichenwalde Vacation	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Reader, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Hana \"D.Va\" Song, Lena \"Tracer\" Oxton, Lúcio Correia dos Santos, Soldier: 76 \| Jack Morrison, Reaper \| Gabriel Reyes, Ana Amari, Balderich von Adler, Angela \"Mercy\" Ziegler", "Fandom": "Overwatch (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Luminescence0", "chapters": "6/6", "completed": "2023-10-31", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "17,329", "Additional Tags": "Reader-Insert, Original Character(s), Eichenwalde (Overwatch), Vacation, Age Difference, Size Difference, Necklaces, Developing Friendships, Morning Sex, Arena, Omnic Crisis (Overwatch), God Program AI (Overwatch), Character Death, Alternate Ending", "Relationship": "Reinhardt Wilhelm/Reader", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The Overwatch transporter has landed in Reinhardt’s hometown of Eichenwalde, Germany.Reinhardt hadn’t been back to Germany in quite a while, and he wanted to show you his homeland. In the last couple of months, there hadn’t been any terrorist attacks or important missions, so with things quiet at the moment, you and a few members of Overwatch decided to take a short vacation and visit Reinhardt’s hometown before going back to Overwatch HQ.The transporter door opened, revealing an immense forest of trees before you. The transporter had landed in the Black Forest, which was on the outskirts of Eichenwalde. The air was fresh and the smell of earth filling your nostrils made you feel alive. From behind, Reinhardt wrapped his thick, muscular arms around you, placing his chin on your head.“You know, I used to play in the Black Forest when I was young. I remember sneaking out with my friends looking for adventure,” a smile formed on his lips as he spoke. “Our parents would almost always find out, and we would be grounded,” you chuckled as you ran your hands along his arms, feeling the muscles lightly twitch at your touch.“You must have had quite the adventures,” you tilted your head back, looking up at his roguishly handsome face, his crystal blue eye twinkling. He brought his head down and he kissed you on the forehead. His long blonde hair was loose, waving in the wind. Lost in your own world, you heard the click of a camera, and turned your head at the sound. Of course, it was Hana taking a picture of you two being all lovey-dovey.“This is going to the Hall of Fames!” she joked, making your eye twitch in annoyance. As you slowly peeled Reinhardt's arms from your waist, you walked towards her.“Hana... could I see your phone for a second?” you asked nicely, but the tone of your voice was certainly creepy.“No!” she giggled as she turned to run away.“Give it!” you yelled as you chased after her. The two of you ran zigzagging between the trees. Lena jumped in to help Hana, zipping around with the phone to make sure you didn’t get it. Lúcio joined your side, moving fast on his skates as he tried to get Hana’s phone. Jack walked out of the transporter, yawning and stretching, and stood beside Reinhardt.“I’m glad the youngsters are enjoying themselves already,” Jack chuckled. Gabriel and Ana joined to watch the entertaining scene before them.“Children, behave,” Ana called out, then looked at Reinhardt. “So, you reserved us a place to stay?”“Of course. Let’s get our luggage.” The town was protected by a high wall, and the large gate to the town slowly opened. As the buildings came into view, you and a few of the others gasped in astonishment. Today was market day, and it looked like the whole town was out. The townsfolks were talking and laughing as they bought, sold, and bartered with one another. It looked like a friendly and lively town. It had a medieval feel to it, with many of the houses made of wood, and the streets lined in cobblestone. The people kept their traditional way of life, but they also embraced the modern comforts, such as internet and vehicles. On top of a hill was the great castle, built ages ago that still stood strong to this day. Within it, lived the ruler of Germany, and Reinhardt’s master, King Balderich von Adler.While everyone was looking around, Reinhardt looked at you, and could see from the smile on your face what you thought of his hometown. He looked up at the castle.“Home sweet home...” Reinhardt said to himself quietly.“Wilhelm!” Reinhardt and you looked over to see a man, as tall as Reinhardt, striding towards him. He wore his Crusader armour, and carried his helmet under his arm. Reinhardt obviously knew the man as his face lit up with joy.“Felix, my friend! It’s been too long!” Reinhardt closed the distance to the man and gave him a man hug, as they pounded each other on the back. His Crusader friend protected the town as a guardsman. You were glad that he could see his friends like this again. You hoped that being back home would help Reinhardt ease the stress that he held inside him like bands of steel. Working as an Overwatch agent wasn’t easy. You had to travel all over the world, and fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. The missions were dangerous, and it could cost you your life. When you were very young, you idolized the Overwatch heroes. You wanted to grow up to be strong and fearless like them, and be able to protect the ones you loved. Your father was in the military, now retired, and he supported your choice. Though your mother worried for your safety, but in the end, she supported your dream.At sixteen, you were accepted into Overwatch, and started your training. You learned how to use every kind of firearm, trained in hand to hand combat, and how pilot or drive military vehicles. Maybe it was just your body type, but you would never be as strong or as muscular as most of the male Overwatch agents. Mentally though, you were a powerhouse. That ability is what caught Strike Commander Jack Morrison’s attention. Your body may not be strong, but your willpower and spirit were tough. When you were nineteen, Jack had brought you into a special training program that he thought was made just for you. The program was to see if you could wield Winston’s latest and finest invention. It was two bracelets that connected to the user’s mind, enabling them to create any weapon in an instant. Most agents that were tested for this program never completed it. The mind training was tough, really tough, but you kept at it. Even when you failed time and again, your willpower was immense, and your spirit didn’t break. After months of training, you were finally able to create your first weapon.After that, Reinhardt was assigned as your sparring partner. He was ordered to go easy on you at first, but as your skills developed, the training level increased. Reinhardt was older and an experienced fighter, after all. Plus he was a man that towered over anyone with his height. As time passed, the bond between you and Reinhardt was undeniable, with Reinhardt finally asking you out, and you soon became lovers. You were now on Overwatch’s special task team. The team members all had unique talents, and they treated one another as family.“Felix! I want to introduce you to my lover, (Y/N),” hearing your name, you snapped back to the present. Unprepared, you felt nervous. “Hi there... Nice to meet you,” you put your hand out for a handshake.“Ah! You must the one Wilhelm talked about in his letters to us,” Felix said as he firmly shook your hand. Wow, are all Crusaders hands this big? I wonder if that meant... You shook your head at the thought.“I hope Wilhelm is treating you well? This big idiot can be dense at times,” Felix chuckled at his joke. Reinhardt grinned and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side.“Of course I do. You should see what I can do in bed with him...”“Reinhardt!” you instantly snapped at his words as your face burned in embarrassment. The two Crusaders burst out in laughter.Once everyone put their luggage in their rooms at the inn where they were staying, they headed out to explore the town. Ana grabbed Jack and Gabriel by the arm, and walked back to the marketplace. Lena, Hana, and Lucio went off to find something to eat. You and Reinhardt stayed together, and strolled along the main street, looking at the various shops. Walking down the street, many of the townsfolk called out a greeting to Reinhardt and Felix, and Reinhardt introduced you to some of them. Reinhardt had such charisma that you could see why he knew almost everyone. Life here seemed surreal. The people were really friendly to each other, even to strangers. Except for the occasional bar fight at night, the residents didn’t fight. It was as if this town was one big family. How could the people here be so nice? It was if the town was protected from the ugliness in the rest of the world. You could see why Reinhardt grew up to be such a noble and kind man.Reinhardt had stopped at a bakery. Apparently, the baker, Franz, was a former Crusader, who had decided to quit and live his dream. His parents had been Crusaders, and they expected him to follow in their footsteps, which he did. But Franz wasn’t really made for fighting, even if he was built like Reinhardt, tall and powerfully strong. He was a peaceful man at heart, and his true love was to bake for the people of Eichenwalde, and make the children smile.While the baker and Reinhardt talked, you saw a gold shop a few doors away. You walked down to look at their window display, which had all kinds of necklaces. Your eyes were drawn to a necklace in the far corner. Going inside, you leaned over the display and picked up a silver necklace. Hanging from it was a face of a silver lion wearing a crown on its head, and its sapphire eyes were crystal blue, just like Reinhardt’s.“Do you like it?” the elderly lady came out of nowhere, making you slightly jump.“... It’s very beautiful. Is it handmade?”“I’m glad you like it. My husband made it. He is a swordsmith, but one day he made this. The rest of the necklaces you see are my work,” for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off the necklace. Too focused, you didn't notice Reinhardt enter the shop. He dropped his two big hands onto your shoulders from behind.“Does something interest you, mein Junge?” you lifted the necklace up, so Reinhardt could see it better.“It’s beautiful,” Reinhardt took it from your smaller hands to see it up close. He smiled as he gave it back to you. The elderly lady looked at the two of you and smiled softly.“I just remembered that there’s another necklace that goes with that one,” she turned to another counter and searched through some necklaces. “Aha!” she picked up a gold chain and hanging from it was a gold lion with ruby red eyes. “Would you pass me the one you have, dear?” you gave her the silver necklace and watched as she brought the necklaces closer together. Just as both head looked at each other, they clicked together like magnets, as if they were kissing. You knew right then, that you wanted them badly for you and Reinhardt. No matter what the cost, you would pay it.“Can I get them please?” you looked up at Reinhardt, begging.“Of course, my boy,” he ruffled your hair and looked at the elderly lady. “How much will it be?”“Please, it’s a gift from me and my husband. They have been lying around for quite some time now, and I’m sure my husband would be happy to hear that a lovely couple like you two are wearing them,” both you and Reinhardt’s eyes went wide at the offer.“But-” Reinhardt was about to say that he could pay, but the old lady stopped him.“Young man, unless you want to make this old woman sad for not accepting her gift?” Reinhardt faintly smiled in defeat.“I thank you madam for your generosity.”“Thank you so much!” you quickly added, smiling at the elderly lady.You and Reinhardt left the gold shop and continued down the street. You with the silver lion hung around your neck, while Reinhardt wore the gold lion. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Man, German food we had at lunch sure filled me up. Can’t wait for dinner,” Lucio groaned as he relaxed on the sofa.Lucio was at the inn, relaxing with Lena, Hana, and you. It was already six at night. The group had arrived in Eichenwalde early this morning, yet it was already evening. Time sure flies by fast when you are having fun. Time needs to move a bit slower when you are on a holiday.“So, what did you and Reinhardt do today?” Lena leaned over to look at you, curiosity reflected in her eyes.“Well, we went down the main street towards the marketplace, and Reinhardt introduced me to a lot of the townspeople he knew. And... I also got this,” you lifted the necklace up, holding the silver lion’s head in your palm. The three looked in awe at the exquisite workmanship of the necklace.“Wow, that’s one awesome necklace. Maybe I should ask the artist who made that to make my trademark frog,” Lucio said as he leaned back, putting his hands behind his head.“Me too! A bunny necklace would be so cute,” Hana said excitedly. The four of you chatted until Reinhardt came into the inn with the other members of the team.“Hello, my friends. Who would like to go with me to see Eichenwalde’s castle?”“Me!” Lena instantly flashed to the entrance of the inn.“Are you going to see your master, Reinhardt?” you stood up with the others and walked over to him.“Of course! I would be a bad apprentice if I didn’t see my master while I was in town,” Reinhardt wrapped one arm around your shoulders as he led the group out of the inn. “Woah...” you said as you looked up at the castle. The group had reached the bridge that led up to the front gates. Close up, you felt a bit lightheaded from looking all the way up the towers. Not many townspeople were around the castle. Only Crusaders and those who had business at the castle.“Impressive, isn’t it? I grew up in the village and looked up at the castle every day, hoping that one day I could fight for justice, and protect the weak,” Reinhardt felt a bit nostalgic and melancholy as he remembered his past.“And your dream came true. You are a great knight, Sir Reinhardt,” at your words, he looked down at you with a smile.“I am glad to be your knight, Prince (Y/N),” Reinhardt said as he bowed to you like the knights of old. You laughed at the cheesiness of his actions, but delighted as well. Everyone crossed the bridge and came up to the massive gates where two Crusaders stood strong and tall, their weapons out.“Halt! State your business at the castle,” the Crusaders crossed their weapons, forming an ‘X’ to create a barrier. Reinhardt gave them a salute, and spoke in a strong, authoritative voice.“Reinhardt Wilhelm, agent of Overwatch and Crusader, here to see the King,” the two Crusaders lowered their weapons in surprise.“Sir Wilhelm?! It’s an honour! I will let the King know you are here!” one of the Crusaders said as he quickly marched away to inform King Balderich of Reinhardt’s return. Within minutes, the Crusader came running back. He was not even out of breath from running in heavy armour. “The King will see you in the Throne room. Welcome back, Sir Wilhelm,” the Crusaders moved to each side of the gate and saluted Reinhardt as the huge gate slowly opened. The castle grounds were just like the village, medieval style. Leading up to the castle itself were wide wooden steps. The door was almost as thick and heavy as the gates that had passed through. The door must be used for ceremonies and special occasions as Reinhardt walked over and opened a smaller door located to the left. Inside, the ceilings of the main foyer soared high, and near the top were beautiful coloured stained glass windows that let in natural light. Now, as the sun was starting to set, the colours of the sunset shone through the glass. The floor was stone and the walls were lined with torches, lighting a path down the corridor.Reinhardt led the way, passing a number of doors. One door was open and you could see it was the weapons room. There was every type of weapon from traditional broadswords and shields to modern rocket hammers, and barrier shields. Another room had heavy wooden tables and benches with the remains of a meal on one table. There were pewter plates and mugs, and a heavy pitcher. That must be where the soldiers ate. Stairs on the right let up to the upper floors, and at the end of the corridor, you could see stairs going down. You wondered if they led to the kitchens and exits to the back gardens. A few doors down were two Crusaders guarding a door. Reinhardt stopped in front of the guards and saluted.“Reinhardt Wilhelm and his companions to see the King,” the guards stepped aside and pulled the doors opened. Reinhardt seemed to hesitate. Sensing his nervousness, you lightly touched his arm, looking at him with love in your eyes.“Come on. Your master must be eager to see his apprentice,” Reinhardt looked at you. Then, as he turned to enter the Throne room, his face changed to that of a Crusader’s face. Full of confidence and determination.The floor was white marble and the walls were covered in tapestries, and paintings of scenes of wars. To the left was a huge fireplace big enough to cook a whole cow. A rich red carpet ran from the door, then it curved to the right and ran straight across the room, and up four steps that led up to the throne. It was like in a fantasy world where dragons and knights existed. It made you excited to see others parts of the castle.Your eyes were drawn over to the throne, and there sat King Balderich. His face prideful and arrogant. Two Crusaders stood at attention on either side of the King, and the two guards who had opened the door were now inside guarding the exit. King Balderich had silver white hair and a beard and mustache. He looked every inch a warrior with battle scars on his arms. You couldn’t see, but you bet he had reminders of the wars he fought in on his body as well. You imagined that this is what Reinhardt would look like when he got older. Balderich looked right at Reinhardt as he stood up, his face beaming in joy as he laid eyes on his apprentice.“Reinhardt!” Balderich’s voice boomed as he strode down the steps, his red cape flowing. His large chest puffed out with pride.“I have returned, my King,” Reinhardt went down on one knee and bowed his head, which made the rest of the group bow their heads to show their respect. Balderich came to Reinhardt and placed his hand on Reinhardt’s shoulders.“No need to be so formal, Reinhardt. Let me see your face,” as Balderich spoke, Reinhardt obeyed. The King had a big grin on his face. “Welcome home, my dearest apprentice,” Reinhardt slowly stood up and said to Bladerich with a smile.“It is good to be home, master.” The group sat around a huge table in the Great Hall, which was across from the Throne Room. The table was long enough to fit twenty people. Over the table hung silver chandeliers lit with candles that gave the Hall a warm, welcoming feeling. Balderich had invited everyone to stay for dinner. His cooks had prepared delicious, traditional German dishes, which made Lucio even more eager to eat. Servants bustled around refilling cups, bringing in more dishes, and waiting for requests from the guests.Balderich sat in the middle of the long table in a chair big enough to support his 7’4 frame, and there was one for Reinhardt too. Reinhardt sat in a place of honor to the right of the King, and you sat next to Reinhardt. The King loved to laugh and made sure that he participated in all the conversations flowing around the table. You sat there quietly, listening and smiling when someone laughed. You thought that everyday should be like this. No dangerous missions, no stress, no pain, just a simple and happy life. Though you wouldn’t want to give up fighting... for fun. That’s what kept you going. You wondered how strong King Balderich was. Since he was Reinhardt’s master, he had to have been a very strong warrior. As the king, he must be busy running a country, meeting with other important people from across the globe. He had to deal with politics, and didn’t have much personal time.“It is an honor to finally meet you in person, (Y/N). I heard many great things about you from Reinhardt,” Balderich’s strong booming voice dragged you back to reality. You looked over at the King, his face beaming with happiness. The King enjoyed catching up with his apprentice, and getting to know the people in Reinhart’s life.“King Balderich, the honor is mine,” you timidly bowed your head. You felt really nervous talking to the King, feeling undeserving to meet such a great man and leader.“Please, no need to be formal when we are at this table,” you simply nodded your head in acknowledgement. As the night went on, you slowly opened up to Reinhardt’s master, feeling more relaxed around him. Was it because of the alcohol you had drunk? You didn’t really like the taste of alcohol. While the others went for the traditional ale, Balderich had offered you a special drink made from apples. It seemed to have loosened you up, freeing you from any worries you had.“So, when Reinhardt came back from his solo mission and found out that I had been sick in bed for a week, he came storming into my room.”“I was frantic, mein Junge! No one had notified me that you were sick until I returned...” Reinhardt rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.“And after that, you wouldn’t leave but stayed and nursed me, saying that you were my knight in shining armour... You didn’t have to stay the whole time, but I was happy you did,” you placed a hand on his, smiling up at him. Reinhardt looked at you with a big goofy smile that always got you. Balderich looked at the two of you.“Aww, that’s adorable! I feel you, big guy,” Lena said. “If Emily had been sick without me knowing, I would have been furious!” after a while, you started to feel sleepy and looked at the big clock on the wall. It was already 10:00pm. You yawned and rubbed your eyes.“Come. Let’s get you back to the inn,” Reinhardt placed an arm around your shoulder. You shook your head, as you slowly stood up.“No, you stay here. I can get back on my own, don’t worry,” you looked at the King and bowed. “Thank you for the wonderful dinner, King – I mean, Balderich. It was nice meeting you in person.”“The pleasure is mine,” he smiled, nodding his head at you. The streets of Eichenwalde were quiet at night. Completely different with the shops closed and most of the citizens at home. Of course, the bars were open, and you passed a few people here and there on their way home. A couple were a bit drunk as they weaved their way down the street. Luckily no cars were allowed in the village. Crusaders were up on the walkways of the wall surrounding the village, and down on the streets to keep an eye out for any trouble. You loved this place a lot as it was a mixture of both fantasy and modern. Some people preferred the convenience of new, modern cities. And some liked the old, traditional towns. But you liked a blend of both.The night was warm and you decided to stop and rest on a bench, and looked up at the sky. It was a clear night and the bright stars covered the sky like a blanket of diamonds. It was so beautiful. If only the rest of the world could be like this with no wars and sadness. You truly believed that with Overwatch, you can make it so. Not only for Reinhardt and the rest of the world, but for yourself. You know that the evil of wars will never truly be gone, but at least you can minimize the damage for as long as you can.You leaned back as you continued to stare up at the sky in deep thought. Sometimes you found yourself there when you thought about scary and serious things. You closed your eyes, and breathed in deeply. You felt so relaxed that you could just sleep here...“(Y/N)?” your eyes popped open, and you looked up to see a Crusader standing in front of you. It was Felix in his Crusader’s armour with his helmet tucked under his arm.“Felix...! What a nice surprise. I’m guessing you’re on night duty?” Felix nodded.“May I join you?” he asked formally. Maybe he thought he needed to treat you nicely because of Reinhardt.“Sure, and you don’t have to be so formal,” you said to him with a smile.“Sorry, it’s become a habit as I often deal with people of higher rank,” Felix held his helmet between his hands and looked at it, then asked. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you meet Wilhelm?” you leaned forward, resting your chin on your hands as you thought back to when you first met Reinhardt. It was at a training session. “(Y/N), meet Reinhardt Wilhelm. He will be your trainer and will help you develop your new skill,” Jack said. Jack was up on the observation deck, looking down on the training ground, where you stood. A huge man stood a few feet away from you. He had long blond hair that was tied back, and crystal blue eyes. Slung over his shoulder was a Rocket Hammer. “Nice to meet you, my friend! I will ensure that you will quickly get used to your newfound ability,” Reinhardt said with a smile. You felt so small compared to him. “H – Hello, Sir Wilhelm. It’s an honour to be able to work with a Crusader like you,” you stood up straight and spoke in a clear voice, yet you felt nervous about the training. “No need to be formal, young man. Just be yourself,” you relaxed a bit at those words. Reinhardt gripped his Hammer with both hands. “Let’s get started!” Sweat dripped down your face. Creating a weapon itself was hard enough, but having to fight as well. Reinhardt was going easy on you. This must be child’s play to him. He wasn’t sweating and did not even seem tired at all. You were just a novice, still a lot to learn. “Commander, I think it’s time for a break. (Y/N) looks like he could use one,” Reinhardt said to Jack. Jack had been watching your training from the observation deck. “Continue,” Jack knew you, he knew you wouldn’t want to stop until you got it right. Your soul was unbreakable, indomitable. Reinhardt frowned because he didn’t know what you were capable of. Right now, he just saw you as another trainee that had joined Overwatch. When he turned back to look at you, you were running right at him, and he immediately took up a defensive stance. With a grunt, you swung your sword down at him. Reinhardt only needed to push back lightly. Your arms and legs were shaking with exhaustion. He was worried that your bones might break. “You don’t need to push yourself so hard. We can tell the Commander you need a break...” Reinhardt said worriedly. You just stared at him with a determined look on your face. “... When did I say that I needed a break?” “Wow. You must be one tough warrior,” you rubbed your arm at Felix’s compliment.“Not really. I’m still not at 100% with my abilities. That’s why Reinhardt is still training me,” Felix nodded his head in acknowledgement.“You know, I joined the Crusaders because of Wilhelm. He inspired me. He fought in many battles, and saved many lives. Even when his life was full of hardship, he has always been positive, and never lets that toothy smile of his fade,” Felix looked up at the sky, where the stars shined so brightly. “I can see how he was drawn to you. He saw something in you. Your will... your soul, maybe? I can sense an aura around you,” it felt a bit awkward to be thought of as anything other than simply you. You shook your head.“I’m just me, no one special,” you slowly stood up. “It was nice talking to you, Felix, but I have to go. I’m feeling very sleepy... See you around,” Felix stood up, slightly towering over you. “It was nice talking to you as well, (Y/N). Good night,” the two of you shook hands. Felix went back on patrol and you headed back to the inn.“... I love this place.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was morning in Eichenwalde.You and Reinhardt were still sleeping, as rays of the sun started to peek through the curtains in your room at the Inn. On the king-sized bed you shared, Reinhardt was laying on his side, and you were curled up with your back against his chest. He had one arm under your pillow and the other draped over your stomach. He wore only sweatpants, while you had on a white undershirt and pajama shorts. Reinhardt slowly opened his eyes and looked down at you, fast asleep with your mouth slightly open. He smiled and pulled you a little tighter against him, and kissed your temple. He didn’t know if moving you closer was a good idea, as you started to mumble and squirm in your sleep. What were you dreaming? You were grinding your backside against Reinhardt’s groin, making Reinhardt give a quiet groan. He was already half erect from morning wood.“... (Y/N),” Reinhardt groaned, his face slightly flushed, but you kept on rubbing against him, causing Reinhardt’s bulge to grow and swell. “Mein Junge, wake up,” he shook you this time, and you finally stopped squirming. But now he was fully erect and tenting his sweatpants. You yawned and stretched like a cat, only to curl back up into a ball.“... What time is it?” you mumbled without turning around or opening your eyes. He looked at the clock and saw that it was 9:00am.“It’s nine...” his voice sounding hot and flustered. You mumbled an ‘Okay’ and fell back asleep. Oh no, Reinhardt was not going to let you toy with him and leave him panting, even if you were sleeping. Reinhardt lightly thrusted his hip forward against your butt, rubbing and grinding his erection to get your attention. You gave a small groan and slowly opened your eyes to look back.“Reinhardt...?”“Boy... you can’t just tease me and leave me like this... You need to take responsibility for your actions,” you tilted your head in confusion, half-awake, your eyes partly closed. Then you felt his hard erection when Reinhardt lightly thrusted against you again.“Woah... did I do that? I remember having a bad dream, but I didn’t mean to-” Reinhardt grabbed your head and kissed you hungrily, cutting off what you were going to say. You whimpered into his mouth as he continued to grind his steel rod against you.“No excuses, boy...” Reinhardt reached under your shirt with one hand, while his other went down into your shorts. He rubbed your chest, brushing against your nipples, while the other hand rubbed your thigh, moving up between your legs. “And it’s been awhile since we took pleasure from each other...”“You could have just said you wanted it...” you mumbled as you turned your head away, your face turning red. Reinhardt grinned and took that as a sign to continue. He kissed and licked your neck, nuzzling his beard against your sensitive skin, making you shiver. You reached your hand back and palmed his hard cock through his sweatpants. It throbbed and twitched at your touch, making your stomach flutter nervously. Even though you had sex with Reinhardt many times, you still felt a bit shy at the beginning, until you got fully into the mood. Your shorts were suddenly pulled down to your knees, revealing your painfully hard erection.“Oh, mein Junge... you’re so eager,” Reinhardt whispered in your ear as he gripped your cock in his much larger hand. You gritted your teeth and quietly cursed. You pushed down his sweatpants, just enough to pull out his cock, making Reinhardt groan loudly. You pumped each other in unison, groaning and sighing. After a few minutes of having his cock stroked, Reinhardt couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled your shorts off and slid his cock between your thighs, rubbing the underside of your balls. You sighed at the contact and looked back at Reinhardt with lust in your eyes.“Don’t stop...”“You don’t need to tell me twice,” with that, Reinhardt started thrusting his hips. You wrapped two hands around both cocks, bringing them together, stroking and rubbing them as Reinhardt pumped his hips in and out. Reinhardt used one hand to pinch your nipples, bringing your head to the side to kiss you hungrily. You whimpered at his dominance over you. Reinhardt was right, it had been too long. A small kiss on the lips here and there, but that was all you two had done lately. You both had been so busy, being sent on different missions followed by reports that it was sometimes hard to get a free minute to spend private time with each other. At night, the team often got together to exchange stories about the missions. Jack would sometimes pair you up with Reinhardt for a mission, but not often enough. “With the slow pace you’re going, I won’t be able to attain my release... Let me show you how it’s done,” Reinhardt placed his huge hand over yours and gripped both cocks hard. You choked out a moan at the jolting pleasure running up your spine, “Scheiße...” Reinhardt plunged his hips back and forth faster, stroking both cocks at the same speed. The pleasure was so intense that you couldn’t even think. You felt close to the edge.“W – Wait...! Reinhardt, I – I...!” you placed your hand on his hip and tried to look at him, but then he bit your neck and growled, sounding like a dog that didn’t want anyone touching his bone. A sudden burst of pleasure surged through you, as you spilled yourself all over the sheets. You went limp, leaning back against Reinhardt, but he was still going.“(Y/N), look at me...” at his command, you moved your head back to look at him. His eyes shined with love, his face flushed and his mouth slightly open as he panted. He looked really amazing that you couldn’t resist to lean back for a passionate kiss. Reinhardt returned the kiss, groaning as he held your head gently with one hand as he finally releasing himself, all his tension spilling out from him. You and Reihardt laid in bed, too relaxed to get up yet, and enjoying the morning sounds of birds chirping and the sounds of the townsfolk going about their business outside. “... There’s something I need to tell you,” Reinhardt said.“Mhm?” you hummed in reply.“After everyone had left last night, I stayed back and talked with my master. We talked for hours, and by the time I noticed, it was two in the morning,” you turned over to face him, as he continued. “Then, we talked about you. How we met, and your training and your abilities. Well... he wanted me to ask you something. More like a request,” Reinhardt paused. It made you tense with worry, but also curious as to what it could be. When the King of Germany himself has a request, it wasn’t an opportunity you could pass up, or even refuse.“What is it? A mission?”“No, nothing like that. He requested a duel with you,” it took a second for your brain to process what Reinhardt had just said. Then, your mouth dropped open. Reinhardt smiled at your reaction and kissed your forehead before getting out of bed.“A duel? With me? Why me?” you got out of bed, your legs a bit shaky from the pleasurable high. As Reinhardt walked into the bathroom, you heard him opening a cupboard.“After I explained about your special abilities, he is interested in seeing how you fight, and he wants to test you. I think he wants to see if you are worthy of me... something along those lines,” the last bit of what Reinhardt said ignited a fire in your heart. Balderich thought you might not be worthy of Reinhardt? You were definitely up to the challenge, to show the King of how you are strong. Walking into the bathroom, Reinhardt stepped into the shower. He had already placed two towels on the warming rack for you and him. “But before you go do any of that, let’s get cleaned up.”The bathroom was, honestly, as big as your kitchen back home. The shower was the biggest part of the room with a skylight overhead where you could see birds flying by. The showerhead was one of those large rainfall type, and in the corner was a stool. At the other end of the room was a small, but deep bathtub for one person. But you bet that if you sat between Reinhardt’s legs, curled up, you could both fit. As you entered the shower, you checked out how glorious Reinhardt looked wet. His hair was slicked back off his face and you watched as the water flowed down, following the peaks and valleys on his muscular chest, and down his powerful legs. You stepped under the warmth of the shower, while Reinhardt brought the stool closer for you to sit down. Then, he grabbed the shampoo, body soap, and sponge. Standing behind you, he poured the shampoo into his hands and washed your hair. It felt wonderful as his big hands slowly massaged your scalp. His hands were strong, but he applied the perfect pressure. You melted at the feeling, letting out a relaxed sigh as he rinsed your hair.“Now for your body...” you gave a slight jump when you felt soapy hands run up your sides and under your arms, making you ticklish. He washed your shoulders and back with care, as if you were precious. Just thinking that made you blush, yet happy that he treasured you. “Turn around,” Reinhardt said. You heard the light smile in his voice though you couldn’t see his face. You felt shy facing him while you were both naked, like it was your first time all over again. Without hesitation, Reinhardt massaged soap along your neck, down your chest, rubbing his calloused palms against your nipples making your heartbeat faster. As he crouched down, he continued washing the lower half of your body. “You know, your thighs are really soft. So silky... and smooth,” Reinhardt said in a deep, husky voice.“Oh, please,” you lightly snorted out your nose.“No, it’s true,” he replied a few moments later, as he continued to wash your legs. “Now, would you wash my body?” he asked as he stood up. You stood up, and pushed Reinhardt lightly down on the stool. Even with him sitting, he was a tall man. With his hair long, it took quite a bit of time to wash his hair as you massaged his scalp and neck. He groaned, leaning his whole body against you for more contact. You loved the feel of his hard body touching you, his skin was soft and warm.“I’m glad that you like the massage, but you know you’re too heavy to lean on me for too long,” you warned as you tried to push him forward. It was like trying to move a huge boulder. Instead of moving, Reinhardt tipped his head back and looked at you with his beautiful crystal blue eyes.“Give me a kiss, and I’ll behave,” Reinhardt said with a grin. You rinsed the soap from your hands before answering.“Alright, but keep your eyes closed. You don’t want any soap getting into those lovely eyes,” you said as you gently placed a hand over them. You leaned in, kissing his lips which were soft. Reinhardt hummed, happy that you were kissing him as it was usually he who did the kissing. With his eyes covered, he focused on how it felt to be kissed, and he liked giving up control to you. You leaned away and washed the soap from Reinhardt’s hair. With no more distractions, you washed his body and rinsed away the soap. “There you go. All clean.”Whenever you saw Reinhardt’s strong back, you wanted to hug him from behind. Those broad shoulders made him seem invincible... but at times, you felt sad for him. Reinhardt carried so many burdens and responsibilities. Many people looked to him with hope that he could fix what was wrong in the world. That’s why you wanted to be by his side, to be there when he needed someone to support him, even if he didn’t think he needed it. As Reinhardt stood up, you wrapped your hands around his waist, holding him tight to you as you rested your cheek on his back.“What’s wrong, my boy?” Reinhardt looked over his shoulder with a soft smile and rubbed your arms around his waist.“... I just wanted to hug you.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was a bright morning in Eichenwalde. A perfect morning for a match between warriors.You and your team were back again at the castle gates, waiting to see the King. At breakfast, you had told everyone about the King of Germany requesting a match, you against the King. At first, everyone was surprised, but it quickly turned to cheering you on. Ana was lecturing you about how to deal with enemies from afar, while Gabriel just said to go straight into their faces and knock them cold. All kinds of advice were given until the team entered the throne room, where everyone went silent as they got down on one knee before the King. Like yesterday, King Balderich was sitting proudly on his throne. But today, he wore his Crusaders armour. His armour was quite different from the rest of the Crusaders. While the Crusaders armour was usually silver, the King’s had gold and taupe with swirls of blue. Beside the throne rested two Rocket Hammers, just like the ones Reinhardt used. Did he wield two Rocket Hammers at the same time? If so, his strength must be beyond imagination. Being able to swing two of those hammers at once without faltering... That was a sight that you were going to see soon enough.“Ah! My honourable guests and friends,” Balderich stood, his armour making clanging noises. “By your presence today, am I to correctly assume that Reinhardt told you of my request, (Y/N)?”“Yes. I accept your challenge... It would be impolite and possibly dangerous not to accept a request from the King of Germany himself,” you raised your head timidly, trying to hold yourself together as you looked him in the eye. You could see a faint grin as the King’s lips twitched. He was excited and ready to get this show on the road.“Well said! Meet me behind the castle when you are ready. Reinhardt, show him where to go. The rest of you, follow me,” King Balderich lifted both Rock Hammers onto his shoulders, and slowly walked down the steps. Everyone quickly moved to the side, bowing as he passed and then followed after him. You stood there staring at the King’s back. He was tall as a giant, broad and strong, like the fortress itself. Unyielding and indomitable... yet you also thought that the King seemed sad like Reinhardt was at times. The fate of one who others look to for hope and rely on for protection. Like Reinhardt, the King can never back down, can never show weakness. For if he did, then his people would lose hope and be in despair. How can they carry such a burden? The thought made you slightly frown, and you whispered to yourself.“Why...?” “...Are you sure you want to do this? My master is not really good at holding back, so he should not be looked upon lightly,” Reinhardt spoke to you in a worrisome tone. You were checking that your bracelets were functioning, summoning various weapons over and over again while listening to Reinhardt. The two of you were now in some kind of hall. On the walls were racks of weapons and armour, and benches but no tables. Reinhardt was sitting on a bench, watching you go through your warm up routine. The hall looked like in the movies where warriors waited their turn to enter the colosseum. Did that mean beyond the gate you were facing, there was an arena of sorts? The question will be answered, once you go through the gate.“I know, Reinhardt. If he can use two Rocket Hammers at once, I can’t let my guard down or take him lightly. I mean, he is your master after all. But all the training we did was tough too, remember? And I got through it, and I believe I can get through this one too,” unsummoning a weapon, you looked up at Reinhardt with a smile, trying to get that worry off his face. You stood in front of Reinhardt, meeting hi eyes. “I’ll give it my all. I’ll make you proud, my Lion Knight,” leaning in, you cupped his face in your hands, and kissed him ever so gently. Reinhardt returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you against him. His embrace seemed stronger and tighter than usual. Why was he worried so much? Was it because you hugged him this morning for no reason? Was he trying to reassure himself- or you? So many questions, but no answers. One thing you did know was that he would be watching you, and cheering you on.“I know you’ll give it your all... It’s time. Give my master a good strong hit for me, mein Junge.” You were now alone, looking down at your feet in nervousness as the gate slowly rose. This was a test, to show the King what you can do and in a way, proving your strength to the people of Germany.“Come on, bring it together, (Y/N). You can do it. Show them who you are and make Reinhardt proud...!” you slowly raised your head, just in time with the gate rising over your head. The sunshine was so bright that you flinched for a second. When your eyes adjusted to the light, you were in awe at the sight. It was an arena. It wasn’t that big, but not too small either. You could hear cheering and whistling from the crowd... Was the whole town here? How did they know? It must have been the King’s doing. You entered the arena slowly, but with much confidence you could muster, looking straight ahead towards the centre of the arena. Behind you was the towering castle of Eichenwalde. The arena was hidden behind the castle, such that you wouldn’t know it was there. Reaching the centre, you looked around seeing some familiar faces from town. Then, you saw your team and Felix sitting in the centre of the seating area. They were special guests, so they had the best view, and near them was the only golden seat in the arena. That must be where the King sat when he wasn’t fighting, like today. You saw Lena, Hana, and Lucio waving madly at you with big smiles on their faces. The two girls were jumping up and down. Ana smiled softly and tapped a finger near her eye, reminding you not to lose sight of your opponent at all times. Jack smiled and nodded, while Gabriel smirked and pumped his fist in the air, telling you to go at it. Felix was wearing casual clothes, as it was his day off. He let out a loud cheer, and then put his fingers in his mouth for a piercing whistle. Lastly, Reinhardt only looked at you, his eyes deep with worry. Seeing this, you touched your necklace, and gently held up the silver lion’s head with a smile. In an instant, Reinhardt’s face relaxed and he smiled back, holding his gold lion’s head between his fingers.All the cheering from your friends and the townspeople, gave you courage. Turning your head, you saw the King slowly walking towards you from the opposite direction. He held the two Rocket Hammers in one hand over his right shoulder, and his helmet under his left arm. The look on his face was determined and serious. He will watch your every move, measure the weight of every attack, and see if you are worthy of a warrior... Worthy to be with Reinhardt or not. Just thinking that you might not be worthy, wasn’t an option. You will show the King what you are made of, how Reinhardt’s training has molded you into a warrior he can be proud of. When the King was close to you, he stopped. He looked down as he loomed over you, a wall that you will gladly jump over.“Are you surprised to see we have such an arena?” Balderich smiled. Noticing how tense your face was, he tried to lighten things up. “This arena was built many years ago. Warriors over the ages have fought here, trained here. I use it as my Crusaders training ground... But today is special. Just for you and me.”“This arena is amazing. It’s an honour to fight on the grounds where many brave warriors have stood. To this honour, I will give it my all, and no holding back,” Balderich let out a booming laugh, grinning in excitement at your words.“I’m guessing Reinhardt told you I’m not good at holding back? I wasn’t planning on holding back either,” Balderich put on his helmet, and as it clicked on, the eyes on the helmet glowed blue. Seeing this, you turned on your Shield that was built in your bracelets, making blue particles appear for second to envelope your body. Switching the Rocket Hammers to his left hand, the King brought his right hand forward. “There is a salute that Reinhardt and I do before battle.” Reinhardt had told you about it this salute. They would grab each other’s forearms before battle, wishing each other victory and glory. A salute that Balderich only did with Reinhardt, but now he would do it with you... You truly felt honoured. Bringing your hand forward, you and Balderich gripped each other’s forearm strongly.“May the Kings of Germany watch over our battle, my friend.” Sawano Hiroyuki – Warcry As the two of you moved back a few meters, you summoned a sword, and looked at Balderich. The two of you looked at each other for a few moment, but then, you made the first move. You ran at him with your sword arm up, ready to strike. Balderich swung one of his hammers, shooting out a shockwave of fire. It was the same move Reinhardt did with his hammer to strike down an enemy from afar. You quickly sidestepped, the Fire Strike barely missing you. It was faster than Reinhardt’s, making your blood go cold from the thought of almost being hit by the hot flames. You were now in striking range. Gripping your sword in both hands, you slashed sideways. The move you did was easy to read, as Balderich casually brought a Rocket Hammer up, blocking your sword with the grip of the hammer. He then quickly swung his other hammer down. With a gasp, you quickly kicked off Balderich’s hammer grip, and back flipped to avoid the other hammer coming down. You raised your head when your body was arched midair. There on the ground was a deep hole in the shape of a hammer, and cracks in the earth radiating outwards. Balderich looked up at you, and even with his helmet on, you could just see that grin on his face. Right when you landed, you summoned a bow and arrows, and quickly fired. The arrows struck many places on Balderich’s body, but they simply ricocheted harmlessly off his armour.“This armour won’t break that easily! It’s best that you fight a little closer...” Balderich taunted. There had to be a way to break through his defences. Balderich stood there, waiting for you to make your next move. It was pointless to attack from afar, as it would quickly drain your stamina. Breathing deeply in and then out, you summoned two daggers, holding them backwards. You slowly ran at Balderich, the speed increasing the closer you got to him. Once you were in range, you threw both daggers. Balderich raised a Rocket Hammer to block the blades... but that wasn’t what you were after, they were merely a diversion. You dropped to the ground and slid between Balderich’s legs, only to quickly jump up and summon a hammer of your own. It was too late for Balderich to react, as you swung the hammer down, hitting him hard on the back. He took a step forward at the impact, making a small grunting noise. This was your chance. You readied to swing the hammer down once more, only to feel an intense power from Balderich. The next second was too fast for you to register, as he gripped your entire face in his armoured hand. He had dropped one of his hammers, spun around, and went straight for your face. A move Gabriel would love, for sure. You let out a shocked muffled noise as you let go of your hammer in panic. Gripping Balderich’s wrist, you thrashed and tried to break free, to no avail. “Boy, never assume the enemy is vulnerable when you got them once... Always stay on guard.”With those words, he threw you. You saw the sky as you flew through the air, frozen in shock. With a thud, your body hit the ground, and you let out a pained cough. A few voices could be heard within the crowd, calling out your name in worry. You felt shaky, but you pushed yourself up on one knee. This isn’t your limit, you knew that, but why did you feel so shaken? Bringing your head up, you looked at Balderich. He had picked up his hammer and just stood there, waiting. Something about him made your legs feel like collapsing. There was an aura radiating from him. Was it determination? Willpower? Or was it because you were losing? ...No, it was the strength of his heart that made you tremble. You and other warriors had strong hearts that were needed to protect the ones you love, but that was not the same as Balderich’s, or Reinhardt’s. Their hearts were far stronger and more powerful. You could understood why Reinhardt’s and Balderich’s backs looked so strong, yet sad. The burden they carried was not something anyone could easily handle. The aura that Balderich gave off right now made you tremble. Was this the true test? To see how strong you were at heart, for you to be able to face Balderich, and to be able to share the burden Reinhardt carried?Your answer was clear.Summoning two swords, one in each hand, you stood up, and looked through Balderich’s helmet to meet his eyes. You took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. The crowd was quiet, waiting to see what would happen next. It was so quiet that you could hear someone swallow, the air in the arena was so tense. Hunching slightly, you kicked off, running as fast you could straight at Balderich. Your blood pumped fast, giving you the rush of adrenaline needed to fight without faltering. Closing in, you brought one sword up, ready to bring it down on him. Balderich sighed, easily reading what you were about to do. Until you flipped the sword around, holding it backwards, and slashed from below. The sound of the sword scraping hard against the armour rang out. You remembered Balderich’s words about not letting your guard down once you’ve attacked an enemy, so you swung your other sword at him to see if he would counter it. Just as you expected, he let go of one his hammers in order to grab your arm. You let go of the sword, and summoned a shield to bash his hand away. Balderich was taken by surprise when you outplayed him. He couldn’t stop grinning in excitement. Knowing that you were quick to heed his words of advice as you kept coming at him without fear, made it all the better.“Ha! You’re getting better, (Y/N)!” Balderich said, half mocking, half praising. He let you get two hits in, before deciding it was time to push back. Letting out a strong grunt, Balderich swung one hammer at your side. You quickly reacted by doing a half spin, blocking the hammer with your shield. The force was so incredible that your feet scrapped audibly across the ground. The crowd was going wild watching the battle. Three of the younger members in your team were cheering at the top of their lungs, wanting their friend to win. While the other three older members watched closely, evaluating your fighting, like in a test. Reinhardt however, was very quiet. He was leaning forward in his seat, his hands folded in front of him, as he was watched the duel closely. He had so many mixed feelings, but as he remembered you holding your silver Lion’s head as you looked at him, eased him. You had told him, in many ways that it was going to be okay. Even still, he couldn’t stop worrying about you getting hurt or doing something reckless. No, he needed to stop worrying. Because if he didn’t, it would mean that he didn’t believe in you enough, in your fighting ability, and that wasn’t true. Reinhardt suddenly stood up and let out a loud, booming cheer, and called out your name. Even with all the shouting, whistling, and cheering, you heard him. You turned to look at Reinhardt for a second. Being the tallest warrior alongside Balderich, it was easy to pick him out in the crowd, and he had a big grin on his face. It made you smile knowing he was no longer worried.You turned back just as Balderich swung both his Rocket Hammers at you. One was coming from the side, while the other was coming down from an angle. Just in time, you managed to summon another shield while letting go of your sword, and blocked both strikes. It was now a fight to see who could push the hardest, or the longest. Balderich was pushing his weapons harder at you, trying to see how long it would take before your defence broke. You were stuck, until you could figure out how to break the standoff... Then, a thought popped in your head. So far, you have only been able to summon two weapons at a time, but now was the time to see if you could push yourself beyond that. Holding Balderich at bay, you closed your eyes and focused, picturing the hammer you used before, while maintaining the two shields you held. A sharp pain surged out from your brain down your body, making you grit your teeth and lower your head. Balderich raised an eyebrow, thinking you were reaching your limit.“You look like you are almost done. Will you surrender?” the force of him pushing down on you increased, and pushed you back more. You let out a small chuckle before slowly raising your head, and looked up at him with a smirk, one that was filled with confidence.“...Never,” with those words, Balderich felt something hit him hard on his back, loosening the pressure from his hammers. You had successfully summoned a third weapon, a hammer in midair that hit Balderich as it dropped. Without pausing, you pushed outwards, causing Balderich’s arms to open. Letting out a fearsome roar, you bashed him on the head with one of your shields. Balderich wobbled back, and fell on one knee. Panting, you unsummoned your weapons, only to summon a sword, and pointed it at Balderich’s throat. He gave out a hearty laugh that boomed loud and proud.“Well done, my friend! You have made me fall... You are the victor,” Balderich said the words to honour you. A smile of delight formed on your lips. Balderich hadn’t had this much fun in quite a while. Dealing with the world problems and politics had kept him in the castle too much. Nowadays, he never had time to move his body and feel the rush of adrenaline. The thrill of battle had awakened the part of him that had been dormant.“There is nothing greater than to hear such words from you, my King. But I think...” you mumbled as you dropped your sword, disappearing into the light. “I lost...” you said as you fell on your back, looking up at the clear, blue sky. Now that the battle was over, your adrenaline level nosedived, and your strength disappeared as if it had never existed.The last thing you saw before your eyes closed was Reinhardt’s smile, proud face looking down at you. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- A soft breeze came in through the window of the castle room where you were sleeping.You were alone in a king sized bed, your body as still as the trees in the forest of Eichenwalde. Only the sighing of the wind could be heard in the room, until you took a deep breath and slowly opened your eyes. The ceiling overhead was not familiar, but the achy feeling throbbing throughout your body was. Using your elbow, you slowly raised your body, groaning as pain wrapped its arms around you. The room was fairly large, yet cozy, you thought. A small fireplace with a sofa in front was a few feet away from the bed, and a bookshelf in the corner of the room with a small tree-like potted plant beside it. There were no personal items, so it was probably a guest room, as there were few decorations. You liked the simple, clean, minimalist look of it. Turning your head to the side, you saw that a glass door with silk curtains, slightly open. It was the sound of the silk curtains gently moving in the wind that woke you.You crawled off the bed, but when you tried to stand up, you felt slightly wobbly that you had to sit down for a second. Looking down, you saw that someone had changed your clothes. You were now wearing a simple t-shirt with pants that went to just below your knees. They felt very comfortable and the material was soft to the touch. You got up again and slowly walked to the glass door, pulling it open to behold a magical sight. Beyond the forest and mountains, the sun was starting to set. You were high up in one of the castle towers, and from the balcony you could see the whole town spread out below you. Townspeople were walking along the streets, stopping to talk to one another. Children were running up and down, laughing and playing while their parents talked and kept an eye on them. The Crusaders were on patrol checking the alleyways, walking the town walls and the walls around the castle. The scenery had taken your heart, as it was a view you never get to see often.There was a soft knock on the wooden door of the room. “Come in,” you said. The door opened, showing your beloved’s face appeared.“Mein Junge! You’re awake! Are you okay? You should be in bed. You need to rest more.” Reinhardt exclaimed, closing the door behind him and quickly walked to the balcony.With a small chuckle, you said, “I’m okay, Reinhardt. See? There’s nothing wrong-” You were cut off as Reinhardt lifted you up in a strong hug. One arm wrapped around you tightly, as the other held your head gently against him.“...I was so worried. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it... You’re my life, (Y/N).” You returned the hug, gently rubbing your cheek against him as you ran your hands soothingly over his back.“You’re my life too, Reinhardt... I’m sorry,” you said softly.“No, you did nothing wrong. It’s just me being overprotective of you. You’re strong. You can handle yourself well in situations. Yet, I still worry,” Reinhardt said, as he relaxed his arms and looked down at you. The wind gently ruffled your hair, the colour brightening as light from the setting sun reflected off the strands. Your smile was the most wonderful thing in the world to him. How small and fragile you looked to him, but with such a big heart and always trying his best. Everything about you drew him to you. Reinhardt lifted his finger, and gently traced your face.“I’m glad you worry for me, but you’ve seen what I can do. If I ever need help or if there is something I can’t handle, I will always reach out to you.” You grabbed his hand and held it, entwining your fingers together. “...Have you seen this view? It’s beautiful,” you said, turning around and leaning back against Reinhardt. The sun was slowly falling behind the mountains in the distance. Reinhardt wrapped his arms around you as you stood there together taking in the view. You watched as the setting sun coloured the sky and the sounds of the townspeople drifted up from below.“It is beautiful. I’m glad I’m here to see it with you.” “What a fine match! Wouldn’t you agree, (Y/N)?” King Balderich boomed out at the dining table. You nodded and smiled in response. The team was invited to dinner once more, with special dishes in celebration of the match between you and Balderich. Everyone’s eyes lit up at the variety of food presented before them. Though you didn’t feel that hungry, you did try a few that Reinhardt put on your plate. You preferred the soups and the various different drinks. As you relaxed, listening to the conversations going on around you, you remembered the emergency report Commander Morrison had announced to everyone. Tomorrow, the team had to leave for one of the Overwatch headquarters in Switzerland to prepare for an upcoming operation... Just when you thought the team would extend their vacation in Eichenwalde, and the world was at peace for once.Shaking your head slightly with a sigh, you turned your attention to what Hana was saying, “...And because I beat her in a video game over and over, she called me a cheater! It’s pure skill... Git gud, scrub,” Hana said with a snicker, taunting Lena with a gaming word. Lena looked at Hana in annoyance.“Sure, says the person who lost in a real combat match against me... What was that saying? Oh right! Git gud, scrub,” Lena retorted, throwing the phrase back at Hana. The two girls were now glaring at each other. Balderich smiled amusingly and took a big gulp of his beer. You were confused, why were the two arguing?You lightly poked Lucio on the arm, who was sitting beside you. “Why are they arguing?” you whispered to him.“Beats me. I’m too busy stuffing my face with food,” Lucio said, his mouth full of food. You only sighed. Picking up your drink, you took another sip. It was now close to midnight, and everyone was happily full with food, drinks, and friendship. You still felt very tired, even after the nap you had when you burned through your power and passed out at the end of the match. All the noise and laughter was exhausting.The team was now leaving the castle. The stars were so brilliant that they lit up the road back to town. You struggled to keep your eyes open, as you leaned on Reinhardt. He had his large arm wrapped around your waist, and your hand holding onto his. The two of you were slightly behind the group. You watched your team members as they talked and laughed out loud. It was because of them that you wanted to be strong, to be able to protect those you cared for. Just being with them is all you wanted and wished for, like a family. You looked up at Reinhardt, and saw that he too was watching the group. “...Reinhardt?” He looked down at you with a soft smile.“Ja?”“Did I make you proud?” Reinhardt stopped in his tracks, and looked up at the stars. The voices faded in the distance as you shared a few moments of silence.“More than proud, (Y/N). The spirit in you burned so strong, and you shone so brightly,” Reinhardt looked down with a wolfish grin on his face. “Maybe you don’t need training from me anymore...”You shook you head fiercely. “Don’t say that...! You will always be my training partner,” you said, as you gripped his hand a little stronger. Reinhardt let out a small chuckle, and kissed you on the forehead and led you back to the inn. “Come on! We’re leaving soon,” Gabriel knocked loudly, calling from the other side of the door. You were in the bathroom, just getting out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your waist. It was 7:45am in the morning, and the sun was rising over Eichenwalde. The plan was to leave at 8:00am, but you had overslept, thanks to someone who wanted to bond with you last night... more than once. And you could hear that someone calling from the other room.“I packed your things, mein Junge. I’ll be waiting outside for you.” After a moment, you heard the door open and close.You mumbled as you dried your hair. “...It’s your fault that I overslept, dummy.” After quickly drying and styling your hair, you put on some clean clothes. Checking yourself in the mirror, you smiled as you put on the lion necklace. Making sure nothing had been left behind and that Reinhardt had packed everything, you opened the door and left the room, suitcase in hand. Walking outside, you saw Reinhardt leaning against the wall, waiting. The air was slightly cold but the sun was warm and bright. “Is everyone at the transporter already?”“Ja. Just waiting for you.”“...You know, it’s not my fault that I overslept. Didn’t you get enough yesterday morning?” Reinhardt’s face looked a bit flushed. He placed a hand behind his head while looking away.“With you, it will never be enough...” Reinhardt mumbled for a second. “I just have these urges and I need to share with you... And-” Reinhardt stammered as you stood there with a hand on your hip, sighing.“Yes, yes. Very lovely urges but the timing and considering the state I was in... Come on, let’s go.” You grabbed his large hand in your smaller one and pulled him, heading towards the gates of Eichenwalde and to the Black Forest. As you approached the Overwatch transporter, you saw that everyone seemed to be onboard, except for the two figures talking outside. You arrived at the end of their conversation.“We shall bring this matter up at our next meeting,” Jack said to the King, bowing.“Thank you, my friend. It’s a matter that is not immediate, so there is no need to rush,” Balderich said, a hand on Jack’s shoulder. The King was in his everyday attire and his long Crusader’s cape. He turned towards you and Reinhardt as you got nearer. “Ah! You are finally here, (Y/N). I wanted to say goodbye in person, and to thank you once again for the great match we had. I haven’t felt so alive in ages!” Balderich went down on one knee and at eye level to you.Your eyes widened in shock. A King making such a gesture to you made you feel a bit uneasy, as he too fought with great honour. “Please, my King, there is no need to kneel down to a person like me...! It is I who should be kneeling and thanking you for the great honour and opportunity,” you said as you went on one knee to show respect. Balderich smiled, and placed both hands on your upper arms lifting you to your feet with ease as he stood up, towering over you.“Do not think so lowly of yourself, my friend! You are a warrior worthy of being shown respect. I shall wait in excitement for our next match when you visit Eichenwalde again. We shall be waiting with open arms for your return one day!” Balderich said, as he held out his hand to you. It was the salute he did with you before the match. You returned his gesture, firm and strong. The way he praised you was a bit overwhelming that you had mixed feelings, but happy ones.You, Reinhardt, and Jack boarded the transporter. Everyone was buckled up, ready for takeoff, heading to Switzerland. Looking out the window one last time, you took in the scenery. The deep Black Forest that seemed to stretched across forever, and the town of Eichenwalde with the castle as its protector and the indomitable mountains beyond. You captured it all in your heart.“Let’s come back one day. Just you and me,” Reinhardt, who was sitting beside you, spoke.“Definitely.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Blood. You could see blood on your hands.Were you going to die? You’ve lost so much blood that your vision blurred. Breathing hard, you looked up to see two figures fighting. One was your lover, his armour heavily damaged, and the other was a... God Program.Odin. The god of war and death.Germany was in danger because of this thing that called itself a God. Odin resided high up on Mount Zugspitze, in a temple. When the Omnic Crisis started, he was activated, and now controlled the Omnics in Germany that were attacking all humans. Outside the temple were your friends, who were fighting the Omnics while you and Reinhardt battled Odin in the temple. Reinhardt and you were Germany’s only hope to stop the Omnics.You were on your knees, holding your stomach, feeling weak and exhausted. Odin had struck a blow to your stomach, slashing it with his spear. The blood continued to slowly flow out. How long have you been fighting Odin? It felt like an eternity. But it didn’t matter how long, this needed to end. The people of Germany had entrusted the two of you with their lives, their future. You summoned a sword, stabbing it into the ground and used it to slowly lift yourself up. Your legs felt weak and shaky, but you fought against any weakness. You needed to remain strong, for the world, for your friends... for Reinhardt. Taking a deep breath, you pulled the sword out and gripped it tight, and ran at Odin.“Odin! This ends here and now!” at your shout, Odin jumped back from Reinhardt, and looked over at you with a smirk. Odin was different from the other God Programs. He had a physical form that was almost human-like, though you could see lines here and there on the body that weren’t natural. Odin’s chest was bare and his body clad only in a black loincloth and gladiator sandals. His eyes gleamed like emeralds, brilliant green, and black wavy hair brushed past his shoulders. The tanned body rippled with muscles that defined brute strength. He was almost as tall as Reinhardt. His weapon was a black trident-shaped spear. Where the three blades met was a red ruby embedded at the base.“Pathetic humans. You dare face a God? Don’t make me laugh!” Odin swung his spear down at you. You quickly brought up your sword, blocking the blow. Since Odin was a machine, his strength was beyond human. Your boots scraped on the ground as you were slowly pushed down by his sheer strength. You gritted your teeth, groaning in pain; your arms felt like they would snap.“Don’t get cocky, false Gott!” Reinhardt yelled as he came at Odin with his hammer swinging. Odin kicked you hard in the stomach, sending you flying and you hit the ground hard. He was able to jump back just in time to dodge Reinhardt’s attack. You coughed up blood, with more oozing out of the wound in your stomach. Reinhardt snapped his head towards you. “(Y/N)!”“You should worry about yourself, knight!” Odin thrust his spear forward. Reinhardt quickly looking back, barely dodged the spear as it scraped the side of his armour. Reinhardt roared at Odin for hurting you and hit him with his hammer, sending him flying this time. Odin slid along the ground, but using one hand, he did a back flip, and was back on his feet. He slowly raised his face, his eyes blazing in anger as if he wanted to impale Reinhardt with it.“A mere mortal laying a finger on a God... Your sin will be paid in death!” you felt an intense aura building up inside Odin. The floor of the temple started to vibrate as if from an earthquake. Your heart froze. Something was coming, you could feel it. Odin’s hair lifted into the air as heat radiated from his body, but Reinhardt didn’t hesitate. He charged at him, as he gave out a battle cry. You needed to stop him.“No! Rein-!” it was too late. Odin came at Reinhardt at such a speed, that for a second, you lost sight of where him. And then, in a blink of an eye, Odin was right in front of Reinhardt with his spear slashing down towards Reinhardt.“Fool,” Odin said coldly as his spear cut into Reinhardt’s face. Starting from the top of his left eyebrow, it cut across his left eye and embedded itself just above the cheek, leaving the skin flapping open as he pulled his spear back. Reinhardt screamed at the unbearable pain and echoed throughout the temple. He dropped his Rocket Hammer and fell to his knees. There was so much blood streaming down his face. You let out a sharp gasp, eyes and mouth open in horror at the sight. Time slowed down around you. Your lover was in tremendous pain... This can’t be happening... This is not how it ends. Seeing and hearing Reinhardt in pain was killing you.This thing, this machine had hurt the love of your life.Your anger flashed as your heartbeat sped up and your adrenaline spiked. The bracelets on your wrists started to glow, as your determination to destroy intensified.“... I’m going to kill you,” you growled as you slowly stood up, your head facing down. You ignored the pain ripping through your body, your eyes turning crimson red. “I’m going to fucking kill you!!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs as you snapped your head up, showing red eyes filled with hate. “Weapons, full open!”You shouted as pair of black and white translucent wings sprouted out from your back. You had unlocked your bracelet’s maximum powers, pushing them beyond their limit. You were in no condition to handle the potential. It was pushing your body beyond its limits-It was slowly killing your body from the inside.But you were not afraid of dying. Your lover was hurt and scarred. His scar would be a scar on your heart. This fight had to end, and you were the one to end it. To save the world from this abomination, even if it meant your life too.“Aaahhh!!!” your scream of rage splintered the air as you flew towards Odin on wings of speed. You summoned a sword in each hand, and swung the right one down. Odin easily blocked it, but you quickly swung the left sword, cutting off his artificial flesh off, before plunging the sword into his mechanical body. Odin gritted his teeth as the pain receptors on the skin triggered. The spear blocking your right sword weakened for a second. It was the opening you were waiting for. You pulled your swords away, only to bring them down together cutting diagonally across Odin’s chest. Odin let out a choked sound, but he didn’t back down.“Vermin!” in a countermove, Odin brought his spear down impaling your leg, and digging deep into the flesh. Blood streaming, you gritted your teeth in pain. It hurt, it hurt so much, but you couldn’t let the pain distract you from your goal. You couldn’t slow down now. You and Odin kept at each other. Your body was peppered with cuts, sweat, and blood running down. While Odin’s artificial flesh was cut and open flaps of skin showed the metal and wiring inside. Reinhardt was still on his knees, holding his damaged eye with gritted teeth. He had been watching the two of you.“You can never kill a God! Give up and die!” while you were looking at Reinhardt, Odin used inhuman speed and was in front of you in seconds. You snapped your head up, and with an evil grin, Odin swung his spear down at you. You brought your sword up in front of your face just in time. He was pushing down at you, trying to use intense pressure to make you drop your sword. Using the power of your wings, you pushed up and took Odin up into the air. His eyes went wide in surprise. You summoned a great sword, and with all your strength, you slashed across his chest, creating a big gap. At that moment, you saw something glowing in his chest.Was that his heart? The source of his power? Maybe by destroying it, you could destroy Odin. Your mark was set, one blow to the heart, and it would all be over. The attack had sent Odin flying backwards in the air, but he managed to land on his feet. You called down to him.“Let’s end this, asshole,” Odin looked up at you in anger, the mocking face now gone.“Yes, let us finish this...” Odin raised his spear, pointing at you... but moved it at Reinhardt. “But the knight shall pay the price first!”At that, Odin ran at Reinhardt who was on his knees, weaponless and vulnerable. You were caught off guard, not thinking that he would go for Reinhardt.“Reinhardt!” you flew straight at him using all your strength for speed. Reinhardt put his arm up to protect himself as Odin, a satisfied grin on its face, went to thrust the spear into Reinhardt’s chest. This was it. His tale as a knight had come to an end. Leaving his beloved behind to suffer life’s hardships alone. If only he hadn’t been so reckless. If only he had used more his brain than his brawn! ... Alas, his only regret was not having more time with you.The sound of flesh being pierced echoed through the silent temple. Reinhardt had braced himself... but he felt no pain. Lowering his arm down, he saw a figure standing in front of him, facing away.It was you standing there. You had taken the blow meant for him. Protecting your love, your life. Reinhardt frozen to the soul.“(Y/N)!!!” Reinhardt’s shout was full of fear, full of sadness. You turned your head slowly to look down at your lover. A soft smile on your face, a smile that blurred as tears formed in Reinhardt’s remaining eye. An expression of shock was on Odin’s face.“... Why?” you turned to look at Odin. Your answer was clear, there was no hesitation in it.“Because-” Odin let out a choked sound as he slowly looked down to see your hand in his chest. “He is my life.”You said as you ripped Odin’s heart out and crushed it in your hand. Odin’s eyes dimmed, making him let go of the spear still in your chest. He toppled backwards and crashed to the ground.“Eye for an... eye,” were Odin’s final words. In that instant, all the Omnics in Germany collapsed to the ground, lifeless. The bracelets on your wrists stopped glowing. Your body suddenly became very weak. As you collapsed, Reinhardt caught you in his arms.“(Y/N)!” Reinhardt cried out as he cradled you. Odin’s spear, made out of Hard-light technology, faded and disappeared, leaving an open wound in your chest that gushed with blood.“No... No, no, no, no! We have to get you to a medic! ... Angela! Angela can fix you! I’ll take you to her!” you smiled up at him.“It’s no use, Reinhardt. I – I’ve lost too much blood, and I pushed my body too far. I’m dying...” Reinhardt’s tears continued to fall, mixing with the blood from his wounds, leaving red streaks down his face.“No, No! Don’t leave me! What will I do without you in my life? I love you! I can’t... I can’t...!” Reinhardt felt a hand on his cheek. You gave him the best smile you could.“You won’t be alone. I will always be with you, in your heart. I will always be with you, on your adventures... Can you s – smile for me like you always do. Your smiles always made me happy,” Reinhardt didn’t do anything for a second, as if he couldn’t. But he slowly gave you the best smile he could, flashing his white teeth. His smile brought flashbacks of the memories of the times you spent with him. “Yes, just like... that... I love you, Rein... hardt...” your voice came out in a whisper as your eyes closed, and your hand slipped lifelessly from his face.After a moment of silence, Reinhart’s smile faded away, returning to his sad expression.“... (Y/N)? (Y/N)?!” you could no longer answer him. You were gone the moment you said his name for the last time. Reinhardt crushed your body against his chest. Looking up, he screamed out his grief until his voice too faded away. You were a hero that came to save his homeland, and died for his homeland.The one he loved beyond all others had died in his arms, with a smile on his face. Thirty years later:Reinhardt Wilhelm had aged greatly. The scar over his left eye, a constant reminder that Odin had taken more than his eye. He was wearing a black suit, and standing in front a large statue of a young man with wings and two swords in his hands. The plaque on the statute read; In remembrance of a great hero who gave his life for ours. Here lies (Y/N) (Y/MN) (Y/LN), the saviour of Germany. Reinhardt kneeled in front of it, placing a handful of your favorite flowers.“I’m back, (Y/N). The war with the Omnics has ended. What you did for my homeland will forever be remembered. Without you, my life is lonely and hard, but I’m managing. I miss you, and I will always love you, mein Junge,” when Reinhardt stood up, he saw a figure standing under a tree a few feet away. The figure looked very familiar, then his eyes widened when he realised who it was. The figure smiled, and as it turned away, Reinhardt could see a faint outline of wings. Just as Reinhardt went to call out, a strong gust of wind blew. When he looked back at the tree, no one was there. He looked around, but there was no one but him.Reinhardt turned and walked away with a faint smile on his lips. Alternative Ending “It’s no use, Reinhardt. I – I’ve lost too much blood, and I pushed my body too far. I’m dying...” Reinhardt’s tears continued to fall, mixing with the blood from his wounds, leaving red streaks down his face.“No, No! Don’t leave me! What will I do without you in my life? I love you! I can’t... I can’t...!” Reinhardt felt a hand on his cheek. You gave him the best smile you could.“You won’t be alone. I will always be with you, in your heart. I will always be with you, on your adventures... Can you s – smile for me like you always do. Your smiles always made me happy,” Reinhardt didn’t do anything for a second, as if he couldn’t. But he slowly gave you the best smile he could, flashing his white teeth. His smile brought flashbacks of the memories of the times you spent with him. “Yes, just like... that... I love you, Rein... hardt...” your voice came out in a whisper as your eyes closed, and your hand slipped from his face.Then darkness consumed you. You felt a soothing, warm wind pass over your body. It was a struggle to open your eyes, but you could see if you narrowed them into slits. You saw... flowers, all kinds, in all colours. They seemed to stretch forever across the land. The sun was so bright that there were no shadows, and the sky was so blue. The clouds were so soft and fluffy, they looked like they had been painted on. You looked down and saw that you were completely naked. But for some reason, that didn’t bother you at all.Where were you? Your head felt heavy and your mind foggy. Overwatch was the first word to flash through your brain. Then you pictured faces, familiar faces, your friends. But one face stood out from the others. It was of a tall man, with white hair pulled back showing a strong face with a fulsome beard and mustache. He reminded you of a lion. The more you focused on that face, the more your memories came back. Memories of happy times, memories of sadness, and memories of love. This person was very important to you that you felt intense happiness surge through you.As your thoughts started to drift, you felt a touch. You looked down to see pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Strangely, a feeling of peace, not fear came over you. This was someone your body recognized even if your mind didn’t. Turning your head back, you saw the face from your memories looking down at you. His left eye was a cloudy white with a scar running from the top of the eyebrow down to the cheek, yet his right eye shined a crystal blue. Overhead, you saw the canopy of the tree protecting you from the bright rays of the sun. You were sitting between his legs, leaning against his warm naked chest. He was naked too, but you didn’t seem to mind it at all.“Did you sleep well?” the rumble of his deep voice sent a shiver of delight through your body. Who was he? You needed to know.“Who... who are you?” the man only gave a soft smile. Warm wind blew against your face, playfully teasing your hair.“Just like I thought, the awakening has caused some memory loss. But don’t worry, it will come back,” the man stroked your hair, and it felt like he was stroking your whole body. You quickly stood up, only to sit back down, facing him. You looked up at his face, searching. He rubbed his hand up and down your back, making you feel relaxed. You kept looking at him, your eyelids lazily drooping, and your mouth slightly open. “You look very attractive, mein Junge. Just like when we were in bed.”Mein Junge, that word, it sounded familiar. It meant-“My... boy,” you spoke your thoughts out loud.“Yes, MY boy,” a sudden stab of pain hit you in the chest. You rubbed it and looked down as more memories flowed into your mind. Germany, mountain, temple, Odin... Odin! That name was the trigger as your memories and emotions flooded back. A God Program that had a physical form, trying to take over Germany. You followed the trail of memories and replayed them. This man was there, he was fighting with you. Then Odin... he was the one who had destroyed the man’s left eye.At that moment, you felt overwhelmed by anger and sadness. That thing, Odin, had left a scar on this man’s eye, and in your heart. He had hurt someone you cared about. You followed more of the memory trail, until you saw yourself standing with swords in both hands and a pair of wings on your back. Odin was running towards this man who was kneeling on the ground, hurt and weaponless. An intense feeling of panic and fear pierced your heart as you flew towards the man without a second thought. You felt everything move in slow motion. The closer you got, the heavier your heart. Just as Odin was about to pierce the chest of the man you needed to protect, you got there in time to take the spear into your body instead.You let out a choked sound, placing one hand over the other, griping your chest in pain. It was not real pain, but a remembered one. The next scene you saw in your mind was you, dying in this man’s arms. Tears were streaming down his face, and his grief hurt your heart even more. He was begging you not to die, not to leave him alone. You didn’t notice that tears were running down your face too as you placed a hand on his cheek, saying your last words.“I love you, Rein... hardt...” as the memory ended, you remembered everything. You looking up at the man, into your lover’s eyes.“Reinhardt...!” you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you started to cry. So many tears, with no sign of stopping. You were so devastated that you thought you would break.“You remember everything now, ja?” Reinhardt wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him, nuzzling his face into your hair. He just held you as you cried, your tears soaking his chest, but he didn’t seem to mind it. “Shhh... it’s okay, mein Junge. I’m here,” he soothed as he continued to rub your back.It made you cry even more, for what you both lost, for the grief and his loneliness over the years. You didn’t know how long you cried, it felt like forever. When your tears slowed, you sat up, wiping your red eyes. Reinhardt gently placed a thumb under your chin and lifted your head up to look at him.“My poor boy. It’s my fault this happened to you,” you shook your head in denial.“N – No! It’s not your fault. It was my choice. I’m... I’m sorry for leaving you...” you tilted your head down, biting your lower lip. You didn’t see the soft smile on Reinhardt’s face.“I am forever in your debt. How can I ever repay you?”“All I want is to be with you,” you looked up at him, giving him a smile back.You rested your head on his chest again and closed your eyes. Reinhardt kissed your head before rubbing his cheek against your hair. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, as if he would never let you go again. You felt so warm and safe when you were with him. All your worries, stress, and sadness were gone. With Reinhardt in your heart, you were never alone. He was your home.“... It’s time, (Y/N),” you opened your eyes and looked up at him in confusion.“Time for what?”“For you to-” Reinhardt leaned in to your ear and whispered. “Wake up.” Thirty years have passed since the Omnic Crisis. The war between humans and Omnics has finally ended, though small wars were still being fought around the world. There was now a reformed Overwatch. Some of the original members were missing or dead, and a few helped from the shadows.Reinhardt entered the medical facility where Angela was in charge. It was no ordinary facility. It was for people who had been heavily injured, had lost a body part and needed a bionic one, or were in a state between life and death, and had to be placed in cryostasis to recover.You were one of them.At the Battle of Mount Zugspitze, you and Reinhardt managed to stop Odin from taking over Germany. But you took the fatal blow meant for Reinhardt that left you in a state between life and death. Odin’s spear missed your heart by a millimeter, but it was the use of the bracelet’s powers of that severely damaged your organs and put you knocking at death’s door. Thirty years ago, the Overwatch medic team brought you to this facility, and today was the day of your awakening; the day of your rebirth.Reinhardt followed Angela down the dim hallway of the facility. Her white doctor’s coat flowing as she walked. Underneath, she wore a light brown sweater and tan pants. It can get cold in the facility from time to time, so she usually wore warm clothes. Reinhardt was used to the cold and his massive body generated its own heat. He only had on a black t-shirt that molded to his large chest and blue jeans.“What is the first thing you want say to (Y/N) after all these years?” Angela asked glancing back over her shoulders. His usually cheerful face was serious. So many thoughts raced through his head. Would you be alright? How long would it take for you to recover? Would you remember him? ... Would you remember that you loved him?“To be honest, Angela, I don’t know. I’ll follow what my heart tells me,” Angela nodded in answer. The two continued to quietly walk down to the far end of corridor, until Angela stopped in front of a heavy metal door. It could only be opened by her. First, she typed in the passcode, then, she looked into a screen for the retina scan, and lastly, placed her right palm on the glass to be scanned.“That is a lot of security you have to go through.”“It’s necessary. Someone from Talon might try to get in here and tamper with the people who are recovering in the pods,” Reinhardt hummed in acknowledgement.The metal door made a slight hissing noise as it slowly opened. The two walked in, and the door automatically closed behind them. There were five cryostasis pods, two on each side of the room, and one in the middle, the one you were in. Reinhardt slowly walked to the middle pod and looked down at your naked form. There were screens above your head monitoring your body temperature, brainwaves, heartrate, oxygen level, and more. You looked like you were simply sleeping.“(Y/N)...” Reinhardt went to place his hand on the pod’s glass cover when Angela quietly spoke.“I completed the process of unlocking the pod earlier, so you can open it whenever you are ready. I’ll leave you two alone,” Reinhardt pulled his hand back and stood there for a few heartbeats before looking at Angela. A number of expressions flashed across his face from worry, fear, hope, and joy.“Thank you,” he called as he watched her leave the room. Without further hesitation, Reinhardt pressed the button to open the pod. The lid opened with a hiss of air, revealing you fully to him. Reinhardt stood there, slightly nervous about what to do. Touch you? Call out to you? Hold you in his arms? He swallowed hard and spoke. “(Y/N)? It’s me, Reinhardt,” he said softly as he slowly reached out and caressed your cheek.You felt warm to the touch, alive. He ever so lightly brushed his thumb over your cheek and whispered.“Wake up.” You felt a touch, and a voice calling to you. It was a struggle to open your eyes, but you kept trying. Your eyelids felt so heavy, but you were able to lift them slightly. Then, when you opened your mouth to try to speak, only a faint wheezing sound came out.“Mein Junge?” that voice, you remembered that voice. It belonged to the one you loved. Hearing it made you try even harder to open your eyes or to speak. As you managed to lift your eyelids further, you moved your mouth very slowly and cracked out the word.“Re – in – har – dt?” the words you wanted to say came out in a weak, rusty voice.“Mein Junge...!” Reinhardt gently lifted you, and held you in his arms like a child. Your body was weak, but you felt warm as he cuddled you. Finally, you were in his arms again after so many years. Tears streamed down Reinhardt’s eyes. “You’re – you’re really here and alive. This is not a dream...!” he buried his face in your neck, kissed you over and over again. “I waited for you... Thirty years I waited, mein Junge. I missed you so much,” he sobbed out.Your eyes, now open, roamed over your beloved’s face. Even older, you would have recognized him. He now had a scar running across his left eye. The dream you had, was it real? Or was it one of those near death experiences people tell about? It felt like only a minute had passed since you lost consciousness at the temple, but thirty years? You felt tears on your face as Reinhardt’s grief flowed into you.“I – I’m sorry, Reinhardt. I... I...” he stopped you with a soft kiss to your lips. You kept your eyes opened so you wouldn’t miss a thing, enjoying the first kiss in your new life, your second chance with Reinhardt. It felt like the first time. The ever so gentle with a hint of passion that Reinhardt kept tightly controlled, as to not hurt or scare you. You came up for air and looked at each other intensely. It was a wonderful moment. The door to the room hisses open as Angela came in with a blanket in her hand.“Welcome back, (Y/N). Everyone misses you. Let’s get you into a warm bed and give your body time to adjust,” she had the smile of an angel, or maybe it was like a mother’s smile that always made you feel welcome.“Angela...! You haven’t c – changed much. I’m glad that some things stayed the s – same,” you managed to give her a small smile. Reinhardt took the blanket from her and wrapped it around you like you were a burrito. He looked at you and gave his first chuckle since he had arrived at the facility.“You look very delicious, boy,” a grin plastered on his face, spreading warmth through your body.“You – you could always take a... bite,” you tried to tease, but felt embarrassed that the last word came out as a whisper. Fortunately, Reinhardt heard it clearly.“Oh, I will. More than a bite...”
11391105	all he has left is now	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": null, "Characters": "Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Rubeus Hagrid", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by thestarsarewinning", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "1,629", "Additional Tags": "AU, Character Death, copious usage of the word fuck, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, 2023: fuck jk rowling", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He won’t survive this war. It’s not a realisation that hits him out of nowhere, but one that merely builds up in the back of his mind until it’s a truth he can’t deny anymore. This war will kill him, and there’s nothing he can do about it. His father is drowning in it, his mother keeps fighting against the tides but can never win and only he is left. It all falls down to him, Draco Malfoy, the distinguished and soon-to-be-deceased heir to the Malfoy family’s dynasty of dark secrets. His arm hurts. Constantly. It shouldn’t, logically. Not when the Dark Mark is inactive, when he can pull his sleeves down and pretend it isn’t there, but it hurts. It hurts because it is the signature that sealed his fate and there is nothing he can do to be free from it ever. He’s seen what happens to those who ignore the mark. Or try to disfigure it. Heard their screams, from the parts of the mansion he doesn’t like to go to. There’s no way that he’ll survive. And it’s ridiculous. He’s a boy, fighting in a war his parents trapped him in, for someone who…for something he doesn’t believe in. Against someone he doesn’t want to hurt. He’s just a boy. He’s still at school. He should still have two years there. Two years of lessons and boredom and sneering down his nose at Harry Potter. And he should be allowed to enjoy that. But no. The war, his parents, even his own body, has him trapped and he’s not going to live through it. But- He won’t survive. All he has left is now. These last few months. That’s all there is. That’s all anybody has. And- If that’s all he’s got, maybe…what if he didn’t waste them? What if he got to be himself? What if- What if he told everything else to fuck off, just for a while, so he can go back to being himself, whoever he is away from this fucked up fight for nothing?He ends up shouting that one evening, when everything just becomes too much. He stands up, staring at the pathetic man who has watched over him for the last six years of his life and is just as much to blame for everything as his parents are, and he shouts. And Merlin and Morgana, it feels good. Draco realises just how good it feels once he’s walked away, and it encourages him to keep going. He gets all the way to his room, locking the door and his roommates out, that’s all they are, really. Roommates. Not his friends. Not really. They just parrot the same bullshit he used to believe in. They don’t bother him, anyway. He locks himself away in his room and emerges a few hours later feeling ridiculously happy and more like himself than he ever has. Pansy Parkinson stares at him. At least, she stares at his hair. His bright-fucking-blue hair. It’s ridiculous and he loves it. He’s wanted to try it ever since he saw some girl with purple hair in Diagon Alley, and why not now?His hair is a good start, and it spurs him on. In the back of his head, fighting for space with the neon sign warning of his fate, is a sort of list. He supposes it’s a list of things he’s always wanted to do. Or maybe it’s a list of how to atone for all the shit he’s pulled when he was still wandering around with his eyes half shut. Granger is next. Apologising to her. It’s new to him, realising how pointless everything is, and obsessing over blood status is one of the things he regrets. Especially when he looks back at how he treated Hermione Granger. She slapped him once, and he knows that he deserved it, though the thought that she might do it again make him wary enough to keep his distance for a few days before he tries anything. She’s in the library, when he finally tries. Three books deep into a stack that is taller than a few of the first years. Books written by Ingrid the Indisputable and the High Warlock of Birmingham. Topics ranging from Arithmancy to Advanced Transfiguration and old magic. Not dark magic, though. Just old, the stories that people tend to ignore. Draco’s read them, though. Half-read them, at least, during afternoons spent evading the potions master. He mentions something he remembers about the book she was halfway through, The Experimental Studies of Catherine De Burgh, a witch from the times of Queen Victoria. She almost drops the book when he speaks to her, though she later lets him sit opposite and the conversation carries on for a while before she brings up his hair, reminding him of the list and that he has to go. Things to do, people to see. His roommates are next. They don’t get it, they don’t understand the truth the way that he does and they still think that tormenting the muggleborn second years that they trap in corridors is a great sport. What a load of morons they are. Cruel, vile and everything he is sorry to have been. Everything the mark on his arm makes him out to still be. He catches them, stalking second years in the Charms corridor and, by the time he’s finished, a crowd so large has gathered that McGonagall is required to break it up. There is one person at Hogwarts that is truly overlooked. Draco remembers him, though, and it takes a lot for him to walk out to Hagrid’s hut one evening, and the look Hagrid gives him makes him feel ashamed. It’s one of concern, worry and confusion and when Hagrid calls him 'Malfoy', there’s no malice to it, no other meaning, as though all the connotations his name carries are forgotten. It so happens that Hagrid is knee high in a pile of shit when Draco walks out to him and somehow, in the middle of his apology, Draco joins him, gingerly holding a shovel and wondering how just one measly three-headed dog can…relieve himself so much. His list is almost complete after that. The pile of unopened letters at the foot of his bed is starting the topple precariously by this point, and the letters come almost every day, enquiring about the ‘extracurricular activities’ he stopped working on a long time ago, but he really cannot bring himself to care. Things are getting worse, outside of the thick stone walls of Hogwarts. His parents implore him, others…threaten him, and Draco can guess what has happened to the witches and wizards who are listed as ‘missing’ in the Daily Prophet. It only proves him right, though, that this is something he cannot survive. It urges him on, to get the bottom of his list. To tick off the last name. To square things with the last person on the list, who also happens to be the person he perhaps thinks about the most. He has spent years repressing his true feelings towards this person, years being a colossal twat, and he wants them back. Or he wants the next best thing. To right things. To tell Harry Potter how he feels. It won’t matter, if things don’t go his way, so why the fuck not?He doesn’t even have to think about it, doesn’t have to build up his courage or spend a while skulking around, he just goes for it. Lets his feelings rise to the surface for once and admits to himself how badly he wants this. How badly he wants Harry. Acting on autopilot, he wanders into the Great Hall, accustomed to the stares and whispers that follow him around now, and he walks up to the Gryffindor table, seeking out the familiar head of messy black hair and clearing his throat, waiting for Harry to turn around, most likely to question him, before he pulls him up into a kiss. Harry kisses back too quickly for it to be something he hadn’t thought about, and Draco stops thinking for a moment. Just kisses him. Pours years of feelings into the kiss and clutches at Harry, tugging him closer. It’s a good kiss, the best Draco’s ever had. The realest he’s ever had. And then he pulls away, turns around and leaves, skipping out on dinner. It only takes a minute for Harry to jump up and follow him. There are more kisses, more smiles and someone who understands the futility of everything, how fragile life seems to be, and Draco is finally himself, or as close to the real him as he’ll ever be. He doesn’t stop thinking, though, that he won’t survive this. It’s a truth everyone knows. Everyone embraces the truth, these days, everyone at Hogwarts seems to treat each day like it’s all they have, only for most, it isn’t the truth. It isn’t the end. Draco knows he’s right, though. He’s caught up in the middle of it, torn between his family, between his feelings, and what he wants for himself. Really, he’s fighting on three sides though there’s only two. He won’t survive this war.His arm burns and a boy kisses him and blue hair falls into his eyes. It’s a fight, a constant fight, and he wants to go back to when he was fourteen and still idolised his parents and tell himself to wake up and smell the fucking coffee.He doesn’t survive the war. His blue hair stands out amongst the rubble, his body lies amongst the remains of the castle. His parents find him, as does Harry, a little too late, and no one is surprised.
11337711	Inca Gold	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Spike [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "1999-09-30T00:00:00", "words": "3,072", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement, TER/MA", "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 }	Inca Gold by SpikeInca Gold (M/K) by Spike 2/99 Disclaimer: Not mine, but then, not Gabriel Garcia Marquez's either. Rating: NC-17 for frottage; trains in tunnels; Inca Cola -- before and after the fact; sonsochakoq; and unsafe exchange of bodily fluids. Spoilers: nada one. Archive: yes please, just let me know. Summary: Alex and Mulder go on a train trip in Peru -- things go awry. This is my contribution to the happy story challenge. Really. Warnings: whoop whoop * kink alert * watersports (and I don't mean polo...) * Thanks & Acknowledgments: Thanks to Te for encouraging me to be as bad as I wanna be; to Nonie, for her forbearance. Web Page: http://avalon.net/~nonie/spike/spindex.htm Feedback: yes, please. Public, or private to Nota Bene: This story is unbetaed -- I'm going to be away from my computer for the next 5 days and just wanted to get something out on the list today. "Inca Gold" by SpikeThe trip to Peru had been Mulder's idea of course. He'd seen it all through the magical mirror of his fine madness: like the lines cut in the Nazca sands had guided ancient astronauts to earth, Hiram Bingham's footsteps would lead them down the Inca Trail to the lost city of Machu Picchu. To the place where irrefutable proof of the existence of those long vanished travelers lay waiting among the bones and stones. It had all seemed highly romantic and appropriately Fitzcarraldian and Mulder had been so...eloquent. Well, good with his mouth anyway.And so, even though Alex's visions had been less...pretty, involving as they did, dysentery, machete-wielding bandits and cockroaches as big as his head, he had agreed to go along.What Alex hadn't counted on. What he couldn't have imagined, were the trains. He thought he knew trains. Hell, he thought he knew bad trains -- he'd lived in Russia in the 1980's for God's sake -- he damn well knew he knew bad trains.But the worst train from Pinsk to Minsk to Armpitskaya, Siberia on the coldest day in January was no match for the Altiplano Molasses Express, which achieved worst-train-of-all-time status by the simple expedient of having four times as many passengers as seats, no stops and absolutely no working toilets."Actually, Alex," Mulder said, having searched his half of the train, "there aren't any toilets at all on this particular train. They took them all out a year ago for a general overhaul...""...and haven't quite gotten around to replacing them yet. Yes, I got the same story from the porter down my end. You know, Mulder," Alex winced, shifted a little in the cramped, crowded aisle where they'd managed to meet up. "That would have been good, useful information to have gotten before we left the station two Inca Colas, two cups of coffee and two --" he checked his watch, winced again, "--three fucking hours ago.""You have to pee?""No, Mulder, this is my 'happy' face. What do you think?" Mulder laughed. Shrugged expansively, loving everyone today."So pee out the window. Everybody else does.""I haven't seen anybody peeing out the window, Mulder.""Well I peed out the window. It was the first thing I did when I got on the train.""You're so full of shit, Mulder.""Actually I too--""Do NOT go there..." Mulder seemed to consider the potential amusement value of that particular conversational side-trip and appeared to decide that, this morning anyway, he could do better than instant gratification of his inherent death-wish. Or at any rate he let the subject drop, didn't complain when Alex turned and tried to fix his attention on the mountain-scape rolling by outside the window.On any other day he would have been entranced. This was Alex's idea of romance in the old-fashioned sense of the word: deep, misty gorges; rocky pinnacles; tiny streams launching themselves off the rocky pinnacles to become splashing, spraying waterfalls -- don't look at the waterfalls. Condors circling in the vast open spaces; ragged ribbons of clouds shredded on the knife-blade peaks. Llamas hopping down steep terraced fields crossed by streams that trickled noisily down to join the rushing cataract of the icy Urubamba river...FuckAnd Mulder was not helping -- pressed up right behind him, playing little Mulder games. A little casual frottage, a flurry of covert 'bad'-touches. Letting the rhythm of the train brush what felt like a nicely flushing hard-on against Alex's ass. Mulder's hand coming around as if to steady himself on the hanging strap, only to graze a nipple through the flannel of Alex's shirt.Kind of a nice danger kick thing to do here in mucho macho Latin America and under other circumstances Alex would have approved. Hell, under other circumstances he would have applauded, dragged Mulder into the nearest under-furnished water closet and fucked him stupid. Between Mulder's hips and Mulder's hands and the rocking, swaying, rumbling vibration of the train playing Mulder's counterpoint in his bones, he was definitely starting to get off. Except he couldn't get off. Not here. Not now. So there he stood, trapped like a...like a...well, like a guy who really has to piss on a crowded, toiletless traincar: Mulder behind him; a fat, motherly campesina in every seat between him and every window and, flanking, a dozen or so young Quechua farm-boys on their way home from a fete.Happy farm-boys, reeking of stale sweat and lanolin from the llamas, and beer. Laughing and -- fuck -- jostling and drinking even more beer from quart bottles that sloshed and...Alex gasped, shifted again, abruptly. Felt a faint tremor run through his left thigh and--BAM -- the train entered a tunnel, plunged into darkness. Which was, of course, when Mulder made his move. Hot breath on Alex's neck and a hand sliding around his hip to grasp him. Squeeze. "Jesus! Don't...!" he gasped."Mmmmm...?" Mulder's tongue found his ear, plunged in hot and slick. And, fuck, that hand. He was definitely getting hard now and it ached. It fucking ached..."Mulder..." Alex turned his head and Mulder's tongue smeared his cheek. So naughty. So nice... "Mulder, not now...""Mmmm..." The hot tongue was seeking his mouth now, winding and flicking gently like a milk snake sampling a sleeping baby. Rumble of Mulder's voice against his cheek: "Why not?'"Because I have to..." WHAM -- it was light again and Mulder, fox's instinct, had pulled away to an innocent distance and Alex was abruptly shouting into relative silence and the alarmed face of the woman in front of him: "...PEE.""What?"Alex managed to make a low growling whisper carry back over his shoulder. "I have to pee, Mulder. Remember?"Mulder leaned in again, laughed low and definitely evil in Alex's ear."Oh, right. Sorry," he murmured. "Forgot..."Asshole. Alex debated repeating the thought aloud, but before he had a chance to decide, Mulder reached past his shoulder to tap the shoulder of the farm-boy directly to his left. The boy turned -- good looking kid, maybe 18, 19, with caramel skin, flat Indian features, long black hair -- raised his eyebrows at Alex.Mulder said, in his bad gringo Spanish:"Per favor. Mi amigo wants ...un poco... cerveza.""Mulder..." low warning growl. "This isn't funny."But the farm boys, who were well on the lee side of a few quart bottles already, seemed to think it was pretty fucking hilarious."Cerveza...si...si!" Lots of laughter and they handed the bottle back around to the boy who offered it to Alex. Who gritted his teeth, locked his knees and refused politely. Then firmly. And then, taking stock of the dying smiles, the spark of suspicion in rapidly veiling eyes, realized that 'no' was no longer politic. No odds in taking on a trainload of drunken farm-boys in the condition his condition was in, particularly not with Mulder in the kind of mood that made him a dubious back-up at best -- so Alex sucked it up, bore down hard on a knifing cramp, took the bottle and drank. "Añanchaykin ñoqapi tukuy sonqoyki churasqayqimanta," he said as graciously as he could manage with his teeth clenched hard enough to make the enamel crunch. He handed the bottle back to the young campesino. His fluent Quechua evoked a brief flurry of excitement and further offers of beer, chicha, tobacco, coca leaves and other hospitalities. It took several minutes of solid compliment and insult trading (with accompanying teeth gritting and position shifting and deep inward-focused concentration) to extricate himself from further awkwardness. Finally out of the center of attention, Alex turned a cold stare on Mulder."Had your fun?" he asked. But from the look in Mulder's eye, Alex knew he was just getting started. He should have known today would be one of those days. Mulder had woken up with a definite foxy hair up his ass this morning -- all cowlicked and dimpled and full of some mischievous Inca trickster spirit. Just looking for trouble."Your eyes are so...so green in this light, Alex." Fuck. Any other time in this or any other place, he would have howled at the idiocy . But right now Alex didn't care how bored Mulder was, or how horny, or how long the train ride had been -- this was getting well beyond funny:"Mulder..."Before the warning was even out of his mouth, though, Mulder had engaged the attention of the farm-boys again, and this time -- with much bad Spanish and creative body language -- imparted to them that his friend Alex could drink more beer than any three of them combined.He was willing to bet money on it.Alex couldn't believe this. His brain was buzzing (possibly electrochemical connections shorting out in the rising tide behind his back molars), balanced somewhere between admiration of Mulder's utter testicularity, sheer white rage and a growing sense of panic. This was well past 'have to pee a little, will be uncomfortable' -- and was clearly on its way to being 'one good sway of the traincar and I am actually going to piss myself in public.'The sense of inevitability moved him down the road like a tidal wave. He kept shaking his head, raising his hands in surrender and growling "Mulder, don't...Mulder, stop...Mulder, please..."But Mulder didn't seem to have caught the desperation rising in his voice. In his element -- laughing and getting out real American money while the boys searched their pockets for matching coin.And not just them. Other people were pressing close to see what the excitement was about, getting out money of their own and suddenly Mulder's little joke was becoming a big deal, a show, a fucking Busby Berkeley musical with Esther Williams and fountains and Lorenzo Lamas. Or was he a two-'L' Llamas? And Christ, Alex knew he was losing it now. Oh, he was going to lose the bet, no question -- and make damn sure Mulder lost a big fat wad of cash into the bargain -- but in order to do that he would have to put on at least a show of playing the game, and he didn't think he was going to be able to do that.And then it hit him. A little late, a little slow -- delayed where intermittent flooding had washed away the neural pathways -- but there at last, the thought that would save him.To the boy with the bottle he said, in Quechua:"I will happily drink with you, but first--" he turned a brilliant, if somewhat strained, smile on Mulder, "--first, I have to pee.""Translate," said Mulder, eyeing him narrowly, and when he had resorted to name-calling: "Spoilsport.""Dickhead," Alex retorted, pleased to have the upper hand again. "Just you wait..."But Mulder wasn't quite finished yet. The farm-boys didn't appear to think it was unreasonable for Alex to piss before a drinking contest, but Mulder's American $20's had already managed to engender enough investment that they balked at letting either Alex or Mulder out of their sight until the contest. Alex was just beginning to desperately negotiate their withdrawal when:BAM -- they hit another tunnel and Fox moved in for another quick feel in the blackness, and Christ, mad as he was, agonized as he was, Mulder's hands on him in front of all these people...Alex was just weak to it...But it couldn't go on. Couldn't -- Jesus-- He grabbed Mulder's hand, pulled it off him -- shuddering -- gave the delicate bones a warning squeeze. Maybe harder than he'd planned because it was suddenly too...oh no...too close..."Fox..." he could hardly speak. "I'm not...I'm not gonna make it." Sudden tension in the body pressed up behind him and--"Oh shit..." As Mulder finally got it. And Alex could feel him shaking. Christ, laughing."Oh, God, I'm really sorry, Alex. Really..." but the shaking didn't stop and Alex thought: that's stone fucking cold, Mulder... but then Mulder grabbed his hand, started pulling him through the crowd.Alex followed blindly in the dark. The crowd around them could obviously feel something going on but it was pitch black enough that even though people grabbed at them, no one got a hold. "Where...?" Alex tried. He was at sea with a vengeance now, unable to imagine where Mulder was taking him and every rocking, jouncing step was agony and...He heard the clang-clank of a door latch. Felt a blast of cold air in his face and the noise of the train doubled in volume. They were in the space between cars, he realized and suddenly Mulder's hands were on his fly and Mulder's mouth was on his mouth.Alex groaned helplessly into the hot kiss. The motion of the train knocked them together. Mulder was hard. Alex was losing it. The fucking fly was jammed. Mulder dropped to his knees. Things were swaying wildly. Mulder got the fly down. Alex got his thumbs under the waistband of jeans and briefs, yanked down. Freed himself. And Mulder -- fucking Mulder -- took him in his mouth. Hot and wet and--"Mulder, noooo..."Piss hard and hard hard, and Mulder grabbed his ass with both hands, nails digging in to spark bright pain -- and then he was losing it, pissing -- Jesus -- letting it go and Mulder sputtered around him, pulled off and-- WHAM -- it was light again and there was Mulder -- on his knees, head back, getting it full stream in the face -- splashing off his open mouth, down his chin, soaking his shirt... and laughing, still laughing...Sharp tangy salt of fresh piss and the stream went on forever and it just felt so fucking good. Like coming, but longer, sharper -- an ache, a shudder and -- fuck Mulder looked hot like that... "You deserve that you fucker," Alex said -- breathless, laughing through his shudders, shouting a little over the train noise. Mulder grinned back at him, soaked and gorgeous. He licked his lower lip, shrugged his agreement. The stream finally slowed to a trickle. Alex holding himself, gave Mulder one last hose. Glanced up.Faces pressed against the smudged-glass window peered in in cartoonish expressions of shock. "So," Alex said, zipping himself up and shooting for casual. "How do you think they feel about piss play between consenting adult males around these parts?"Mulder winced, didn't turn around."Well, they might consider it a re-enactment of an ancient form of healing. The practice of urine therapy has been described in documents written as far back as 5,000 years ago, as part of the Damar Tantra followed by India's Ayurveda masters." "Is that so," said Alex. He leaned casually back against the open side of the train car. Risked a glance out and down. Lots of down. Maybe a little bit of flat ground whizzing by on either side of the tracks. Otherwise, nothing but steep, stony hillside; yawning chasms and the white mist of the occasional waterfall as the train passed over some rickety old trestle bridge."There are 107 verses devoted to the medicinal benefits of the drinking of urine which practitioners call 'water of Shiva' or 'shivambu'." Mulder wiped his chin with his shirtsleeve. Sniffed the result delicately. "It's even entered the pop-culture lexicon of India as 'Morarji Cola', after a former prime minister who used to imbibe. Interestingly enough, it's the mid-stream urine that's most prized. The first urine is considered too pungent to be palatable, while the last spurt has no useful properties.""Unless your name has an extra 'i' in it," said Alex. He snuck a hasty peek at the crowd. They were pounding at the door, unable for some reason, to force it open. Maybe rust had finally done something to be proud of, he thought, and found the right moment to fuse the hinges."I never thought of that," said Mulder, getting to his feet and grabbing Alex in a damp and somewhat pungent embrace. "You know, Mulder," Alex said, nuzzling Mulder's slightly sticky cheek, stealing a tangy kiss. "Lack of forethought is a dangerous personal failing in an FBI agent. You ready?""Always," said Mulder, giving Alex's waist a squeeze and grinning up in anticipation. "Good," said Alex, and he swung Mulder around in his arms and tossed him off the train.And as he followed Mulder down the long drop to what he sincerely hoped was a deep enough pool at the foot of the waterfall, Alex reflected on the look of sheer, unbridled horror that had graced Mulder's face as he windmilled backwards into the open air, and wondered whether that in itself constituted adequate revenge, or whether justice still demanded that there be a blow-job to make things really square.-end-========================================================Glossary of Quechua expressions used in this story: 'Quechua'='the language of the descendants of the Incas' 'sonsochakoq'='acting dumb' 'chicha'='fermented corn mash' 'Añanchaykin ñoqapi tukuy sonqoyki churasqayqimanta'='Thanks!'Other happy things to know and share: 1. The geography in this story is very fucked up. Do not use this story to navigate in Peru. 2. I did not make up the things Mulder says about urine therapy. 3. Inca Cola is (a) the national soft drink of Peru; (b) what you would get if you melted down a pound of marshmallow circus peanuts and made a soft drink out of them...only sweeter; (c) the same eerily luminescent yellow coming out as it was going in and (d) not a recommended substitute for urine in urine therapy.=======================================
11332950	Its All About the	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Charles \"Trip\" Tucker III, T'Pol (Star Trek)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by ParadiseOfTheMind", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-28T00:00:00", "words": "943", "Additional Tags": "Fluff and Humor, Romance, Sexual Tension, Vignette", "Relationship": "T'Pol/Charles \"Trip\" Tucker III", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Star Trek: Enterprise, Star Trek", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Trip stood outside the door to T’Pol’s quarters wearing only a worn tee shirt and plaid drawstring pajama pants. It was the fourth night of the their five day journey to Vulcan, and while Trip was enjoying the prospect of taking his shore leave on the planet he was getting a little tired of the platonic turn things had taken between him and T’Pol. And that had certainly not changed once they boarded the Vulcan convoy. Of course, they were used to hiding their relationship, or whatever this was, aboard Enterprise, but at least there was the guise of neuro-pressure treatments as an excuse to spend time alone together though it had been awhile since they had engaged in any treatments. Now, on the Vulcan ship T’Pol had put a lockdown on the mere possibility and Trip knew it was unlikely to change when they arrived at her mother’s home. And as a gentleman at heart he was not keen on the idea of initiating anything that might be considered improper while enjoying her mother’s hospitality anyway. So tonight was his last chance. When he knew most of the Vulcans aboard would be either sleeping or mediating he took the opportunity to sneak out of his room and down the hall to T’Pol’s quarters.After standing outside for an anxious thirty seconds, T’Pol opened the door. A flash of surprise crossed her features, but disappeared almost as quickly. She gave him a once over and when she espied his feet she saw that they were bare. Her eyes widened as she glanced from one end of the hallway to the other as she grabbed his arm dragging him inside.Trip was grinning amusingly. And T’Pol found herself suppressing slight annoyance at his look of triumph. He had won this round. Of course T’Pol had seen his bare feet on more than one occasion and, in fact, much more of him so that was no surprise. However it was always in the privacy of their quarters and most times it had been out of necessity for their neuro-pressure treatments. It was true that neuro-pressure applied to the feet did nothing to aide sleep; however T’Pol felt it would have been quite illogical to expose Commander Tucker to only a partial application of the practice as she did nothing by halves and derived some pleasure in being thorough. But now, after observing the amused look on his face, she had to admit it had been a clever gambit. No doubt Commander Tucker knew T’Pol would never have allowed him to stand outside her quarters for long in his present state of dress and would allowed him inside if only for the sake of maintaining the appearance of propriety. And as evidenced by his grin he was no doubt more than pleased that his gamble had paid off.“Doesn’t all this sneaking around make you feel like you’re in high school again?” He took the opportunity to walk around her quarters admiring the Vulcan design aesthetic and craftsmanship of the exposed support struts.“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never attended high school,” she said.“Oh, you know what I mean,” he said sounding mildly exasperated. “Don’t you Vulcans ever break the rules?” He rounded on her and she watched as his tall, masculine frame moved to stand directly in front of her.“I believe you could say we just did,” she said as Commander Tucker leaned in closer. She felt her breath hitch in her throat as she anticipated his target and did not move away as he pressed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes as she leaned into the kiss. What was it about him that made her logic so uncertain? Trip pulled away almost too soon, and T’Pol was left unexpectedly unsatisfied.“I’ve been wantin’ to do that for four whole days now. Wasn’t sure when I’d get another opportunity for a while,” he said.“And was it everything you had expected?” T’Pol asked she watched him sit down on the edge of her bed knees spread apart as he rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs. It had been some time since they had engaged in any sort of intimacy. He glanced up at her again. She was surprised to find she was more than curious to know the answer.“More or less,” he said grinning nonchalantly.“More or less,” she repeated. It was more a question that it was a statement for she was not exactly sure what it meant, but she suddenly had the illogical urge to kiss him again if meant it would wipe that grin off his face.“What’s wrong, T’Pol, afraid you might be losing your touch?” He cocked an eyebrow and shot her a lop-sided grin. He was just teasing her now, and T’Pol walked over stand between his legs, bare mid-drift before his face at eye level.“That fear would be quite illogical,” she said evenly. She noticed he stopped breathing for a moment, and she let herself bask in her silent triumph. She had won this round. He swallowed as he looked up at her. His eyes took on a soft almost hungry quality as he gently ran his fingers down her arms and over her sides before finally resting on the top of her hips. “So, does this mean you might be up for a little neuro-pressure?” He asked expectantly, warm hands still at her waist.“No, no I don’t think so,” she said as she pushed him onto his back on the bed before quickly following behind as he smiled into her kiss. This time it was a draw.END
11373207	Doubt	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Severus Snape, Harry Potter", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by greensilverserpent", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-02T00:00:00", "words": "348", "Additional Tags": "snarry", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape", "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 }	"What do you see when you look at me?" Severus gazed up from the papers he was grading, one eyebrow raised in question. "I mean, I've been told I'm desirable but that's only because I'm the boy who lived again, right? Or what do you see?" Severus put the papers aside at that and rounded the desk, coming to stand next to the younger man, who studied himself in the mirror that occupied the wall. Laying his arms around his lover's shoulders he sighed softly. "Let me first tell you what I do not see. I do not see the celebrity from all those years ago. I do not see the famous hero the wizarding world sees. And I do not see the student I once taught Occlumency to. What I see is a young man, who, after everything he's accomplished, still doubts his abilities and his beauty. What I see is a young man, who does not know which face to show to the world." Harry snorted. "Is there something good about me at all?" Severus pulled him close, nuzzling his neck. "You are way too good at Defence against the Dark Arts." Harry chuckled. "You still want my position badly, don't you?" "No. That would mean I would leave you with no job near me. I am content with Potions, Harry." A small pause followed, before he went on with a smirk. "Just the students are a hindrance." His lover laughed. "You're a teacher. You will always have students around."Severus grimaced playfully. "I thought I had made the wrong decision in staying on..." "You tell me. If I had known just how inept some children could be, I would never have taken the job." It was Severus' turn to laugh, albeit softly. "I told you all the years you were my student. You just didn't listen." "Well, I'm older now. I can understand your perspective better." "So you do." Harry got contemplative again. "Still, what do you really see? I need to know, Severus. Please." His lover gazed at him for a long moment. "Perfection."
11335140	Faith	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Te [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "1999-09-30T00:00:00", "words": "2,909", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Fox Mulder/Walter Skinner", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement", "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 }	Faith by TeArchiveX: 27 July 1998 Faith by Te 6/98 Disclaimers: Neither Mulder, nor Skinner, nor even Scully belong to me. Yet. Spoilers: Not a one. Ratings Note: NC-17 for some questionable language, and m/m squelchy fun. Archiving Information: Please ask first. Author's Note: This is for the most sadistic Kassandra, to whom I sold my soul for Mr. X/Krycek. I do not regret the decision. ;-) Also, this can be considered a possible sequel to "Challenges," though it's certainly not necessary to have read that story to understand this one. Thanks & Acknowledgments: To my beloved Sister Blue, for location, validation and inspiration on long, long legs. Also to Alicia for putting aside her massive squick with M/Sk to beta this for me, and to JiM and Dawn for helpful comments. And to BethLynn for the pet care products... All feedback to: . Please?Faith by Te*****River Front Motel New Orleans, LouisianaFox Mulder was alone. It had been a bad one. Three solid weeks on loan to the New Orleans bureau office, trying to catch yet another in a seemingly endless parade of yesterday's troubled youth. He wondered, not for the first time, where to set the dividing line. When did a victim become a criminal, just another vicious little predator to be ground into meat//for the beast//for the nation's correctional facilities? He snorted to himself and took in the questionable splendor of his room. Frame bed, water damaged wallpaper, and a coverlet whose color scheme suggested nothing less than the mottled back of some sewer-bound cockroach midway through the evolution process. //The awkward millennia.//When they'd arrived, the local SAC had offered to put them up at the Maison Pierre La Fitte, an obvious attempt to placate the adopted pet profiler. At first Scully had agreed to hole up at the River Front with him, but when she'd stuck to the carpeting in the lobby...But places like this had their advantages. Even with the moderately frightening sink next to the bed, being here was* better. What was the real difference between profiling and method acting, after all? You immerse yourself in the trappings of your quarry's existence in an attempt to know him, become him-- if only for a time. And, no matter where he was, these squalid little holes had a pleasant sameness. Someone had stayed here, fucked or died or hid here... and damn if they didn't all leave their marks. But as... something... skittered behind the next wall, Mulder did occasionally wish for nicer trappings.1:57 a.m. and he'd just gotten off the phone with Scully. Disappointing on any number of levels, really. There was a time when she'd have let him ramble on until well past three. //Must be losing your quirky charm, Mulder...//And times like these... Well, he could admit it. A voice of sanity, of normality and simple human decency was precisely what he needed right now. Some solid, tangible proof that the world had more to offer than just a great sucking wound that begged for a gun in its maw. Mulder put his head in his hands and chuckled darkly. It was time to get the hell out of here. *****There was something very wrong about a city in the wee hours. It was simple human nature that the vast majority of the world slept at this time, but he'd never gotten past the naive hope that it would somehow be different in the crowded places, that other spirits besides his own would leave their burrows to roam under the unnatural skies. He'd catalogued dozens of skies in his lifetime, and had never quite decided which made him angriest. The orange-mauve of New York got points for being the ultimate example of loveliness in corruption, and this somehow soothing purple-grey, replete with the stench of polluted waters, had definite potential... but he thought that Washington remained the worst. That deep, royal blue bordering on indigo. When you added all the glimmering marble it seemed the perfect, shining example of the City at night. It was a lie, of course. Anything close to a steady look and the blue revealed its blandness. Nothing here, look down, look away, little worm. Just one richly colored veil... Nubilis, nubere... He toyed with the idea of holy matrimony and its relationship to a mendacious sky for a while, dreamy half-smile on his face, drifting through thick, heavy silence as yet another metaphor screamed and twisted for mercy within his mind.Some twenty minutes later Mulder found himself staring up at the unrepentantly ostentatious facade of St. Michael's Cathedral. For a brief moment he considered going in, imagined the vaulted ceilings, the softly nutty scent of old to ancient candle wax, the occasional tantalizing brush of incense... Why did people save such things for the religious? //I need... something.//What sort of God hoarded such rarities of human beauty for Himself? It was an old bitterness, a fruit that had arrived at a certain level of rancidity and decided to hold* to it. You had to admire the tenacity. Mulder stood on the steps hesitantly. He really didn't have anywhere to be, and the old fantasy of being burnt by the coolly gleaming brass of the metal pushbar had only fleeting entertainment value."Looking for absolution, Agent Mulder?"The roughly professional tone had the same effect it always did. An infinitesimal, automatic stiffening in his spine, the hastily quashed desire to come to attention. He took a moment to settle himself before turning with deliberate slowness, executing a perfectly calculated sprawl against the doors that left his back just clear of the bar. "Just looking for something to do, Walter."The steps gave him a rare vantage point over the older man, but he knew it wouldn't last. Times like these it never did... not in quite this way, at least. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Mulder caught the gleam of streetlights on strong even teeth..."I think I could help with that.""Could you?""Come and see..."Mulder remained still against the old, dark wood for another few seconds, longing for the ability to pierce the glare hiding those deep chocolate eyes. A slow blink to register another failure of the night, and he moved slowly down the steps to face Skinner. "What are you doing here, Walter?"The older man moved in, giving his cheek a slow and thorough nuzzle before settling a smile against his ear."Why do you always make this so difficult?"It was a good question, and he resolved to give it some serious thought, but for now his palms ached to rest against muscled flesh, to run their fingers through still-dark hair and tug and tease..."Me first."Powerful arms slipped around him, parting ways at the center of his spine to glide simultaneously down to his ass and up to his nape. Mulder remembered that first night, so cold but a thumb had pressed right there, digging gently into his scalp and making his body fluid in Walter's startled grasp. Another secret revealed and yes touch me there just like that. His eyes had closed but there was heat beyond the irrelevancies of the air just out of reach of his mouth and that thumb stroked and rubbed and pressed..."Vacation, Mulder..."He'd known for years that this alone could bring him almost there, had long since given up the struggle to deny its power over him from lovers. It was the only possible way to cope with the indignity of having such an obvious trigger, but still, when the other hand cupped him firmly and brought him close... A hardness against his own, so effectively hidden by the deceptive light and shadow of the city night... and that carefully adjusted trench. Mulder wanted to laugh but could only gasp at the discreetly powerful thrusts. He wondered if Skinner really, truly believed that such an impressive display of control at this moment would disguise the nature of their meeting from any unfortunately prying eyes. Or was he just bragging? Mmm.... Semper Fi... and then thought and wonder and cynicism were swallowed in the touch of expensive brandy and desire that entered his mouth with simple, calm possession. It never lasted, though. His mind wouldn't, couldn't seem to allow the impression of docility. Not for very long. He forced himself to submit to the kiss for a small stretch of eternity, before demanding with a series of small nips to have his arms freed, pushing the older man away with a lingering brush against buttoned, hidden abdomen."I do have a motel room.""That's exactly what I was afraid of."Mulder smirked. "You have to admit there's a certain charm to--""No. I don't."This time he let the laugh free, soft, subtle, and private in the stagnant air. "Then where?" He moved forward, sliding his arms around the older man and resting his lips against Walter's throat, treasuring the brief shudder. "Hmmm...? An alley, your taxi, a confessional booth...?"The hands had found there way back, stealthily, to his ass and squeezed hard, making Mulder bite back a hiss in the pulsing vein of the neck before him. "I... presume you didn't... take the time to get your own hotel room?"The answering silence was only distressing for a moment-- the hands continued to rove and grip without a pause. Mulder tried to pin down the first time he had felt this simple... //faith//confidence with another person, the ease that allowed (only semi-joking) references to his own irresistibility, the comfort that could wash it all away... He really, really didn't want to go back to the River Front. He felt lips nest briefly in his hair."So damned difficult... We could rectify that obvious error now?""That we could..."His quick capitulation froze the other man, and the roil of pleasure and guilt was dizzying. Mulder could feel questions rumbling up through the massive chest. A pre-emptive strike of lips and a slow threading of fingers through fingers. "Let's go, Walter."****The Radisson was far, far too nice. It was one thing to lose oneself in the crush of another person, but it was hard to slough the debris of that other world. He had wandered onto the wrong stage. This place was not him, not now. Mulder stared at his reflection in the mirrored elevator doors across the lobby, took in the mussed hair, the tattered jeans and t-shirt, and felt like nothing more nor less than some rapidly aging rentboy. As Skinner tucked his credit card away he leaned in to whisper. "I'll expect you to leave the money on the nightstand, Sir."Walter whirled to face him with shock and more than a little anger. "What are you--"The older man's face softened abruptly as brown eyes flicked swiftly over cream walls, gold leaf... before finally returning to Mulder. A brief clenching of jaw, a narrowing of eyes, and then Skinner was loosening his tie and placing it deliberately around Mulder's neck, executing a perfect Windsor knot. The younger man just stared. Walter gave the knot an utterly unnecessary adjustment. Mulder's lips twitched. Walter made as if to snag a briefcase momentarily abandoned on the counter. This was quickly growing ridiculous. Mulder laughed and clutched the older man's arm, earning a quicksilver grin that made him squeeze involuntarily. Walter grabbed the key card instead and carefully removed the hand from his arm, running the strip of plastic along Mulder's jaw. "Shall we?"**"What floor did you say we were on?""Nineteenth.""Hmmm...""Just what, exactly, did you have in mind, Mulder?"Mulder toyed idly with the tie, and gave the railing a pointed glance. There really was little in this world more satisfying than watching the iron control crumble. Under that solid mass lay fault lines, and there were times--when he gave him that look, when he spoke in that tone--when Mulder could almost feel the earth trembling with the force of Skinner's passion. He wanted to roll with it, to lie down upon that fleshy earth and be taken by the shuddering inevitability of it all, to find some flash of oneness, some brief approximation of faith. He took a step toward the older man, smiling slightly, and was surprised at the depth of rage he felt when the elevator chimed at the third floor. Drunken tourists. Twenty-fourth floor. Joy. Skinner was grinning at him with evil amusement over the heads of the teenagers. //Oh, really?//As the elevator began to rise again, Mulder undid the tie as slowly as he possibly could, watching Walter from beneath half-lidded eyes. When it was free of his neck he caught a brief taste of the other man's scent from the silk, and entertained thoughts of running it over his face... perhaps between his legs... but focused for a moment on the innocent (if drink-flushed) faces of their companions and decided to have done with corruption. For now. He settled for smoothing the silk around his wrists, winding and threading and winding some more, knowing the other man would catch only tantalizing glimpses of his play through the constantly shifting bodies between them. After a time he could feel Walter's gaze on his face, but resisted the urge to meet it for fear of his reaction. He found himself grateful for the relative speed of the elevator.***"A dog-grooming glove? What did you* have in mind, Walter?"A briskly professional walk down the quiet hallway, a slow, chuckling, mutual removal of clothing, and an insistent Assistant Director had them here, bare-ass naked in the sumptuous bathroom attached to room 1954. The older man had briefly left him alone as the tub was filling, claiming to have forgotten something, only to return with the electric blue latex glove. With lots of little rubber nubs. Mulder supposed he could grow accustomed to Skinnerkink...An innocent blink. "I just wanted to get all traces of the River Front off you, Mulder.""Uh-huh.""Get in the tub?""You won't be joining me?""Not for the moment..."Mulder grinned and settled himself gently into the steaming water, watching the other man pull the ridiculous glove on before plunging it into the bathwater... a good two feet away from any available skin."Tease."Walter raised an eyebrow and gazed at him sternly. The look would probably have been more effective were the lenses not completely obscured with steam, and Mulder leaned forward helpfully to remove them, stroking the older man's ears slightly while he did so. A lingering kiss on the inside of his wrist, but no other contact as Walter reached across him for the soap.The first touch of slick rubber to his chest made Mulder squirm. Ticklish, lightly painful as the glove caught and dragged... He pressed into the caress, encouraging Skinner to roam. Delicious to feel it scrub slowly over his back, up his legs, only to be removed to get more lather... down his arms and when he grabbed it with his own hand the soft groan Walter returned was exquisite. Back to his chest to linger just a little too long over nipples that craved the subtle torture."Walter..."The hand stilled in the center of his torso before sliding down and down and beneath the water to grip him gently--and then continued. Mulder decided he'd never be able to look at pet care products quite the same way again. A slow, delicate massage along his perineum and beyond and he found himself bracing his feet precariously along the sides of the tub and his spine against the back in a slippery effort to give the other man easier access. The hand shifted, a finger made tiny circling movements along his entrance and suddenly Walter's mouth was claiming his own in a roughly brief kiss."Jesus, Walter... let me come..."And finally, finally the hand ceased its teasing and began to stroke him, slowly at first to test his sensitivity, but when Mulder began to buck (losing his tenuous balance on the porcelain, slamming his calf hard enough to bruise, and splashing water all over the place), Skinner complied with the silent pleas for speed and Mulder could feel his hips twist and writhe in a battle with himself to both escape and feel more of the curious sensation.//This is what I needed...//And then he was losing himself, faceless predator, dusty hustler, FBI Agent it was fading to ash, all of it meaningless, helpless against the force of his orgasm and he might have been screaming...The patter of water on his chest, the deep gurgle that warned of the plug's removal, and he made his way back to something resembling himself. Walter had turned the shower on and was in the process of joining him in the tub. "Hello there...""Planning on standing anytime soon, Mulder?"The younger man pursed his lips in consideration, watched the play of muscles in strong calves as Skinner shifted. In one smooth motion he had risen to his knees and darted his head around to nip at the back of the older man's thigh. He was rewarded with a slight buckle and grinned against Walter's skin."No."Mulder kissed his way back around front. "No?" A catch in the gruff voice. Glorious."I think I may have found something to do."**** End. ****
11378808	Hit from above	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, Sansa Stark, Yara Greyjoy, Margaery Tyrell", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by justme (silver_spring)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-02T00:00:00", "words": "5,082", "Additional Tags": "chatfic, Expanded, Awkward Boners, Not Serious", "Relationship": "Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Jaime's Awkward Boner June", "Fandoms": "A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Why should we even do this?" Brienne asked as Margaery was tying up yet another special water balloon, this one a bright purple color."Because..I'm still going through the longest dry spell known to mankind and having this expired box of condoms lying around in my bedside drawer only reminds me of it every time I open the damn thing to get my Red Viper out for a little relaxation" Her friend replied, putting the water condom into Brienne's laundry basket to join his two dozen brothers."I don't want to know anything about your relaxation time! You could just throw them away. In the trash, I mean. Not over my balcony" She tried to intervene once more."This way I get something out of having bought them. We can yell all the names of our loser dates that didn't lead anywhere when we throw 'em. It'll be fun. And cathartic."Throwing water filled condoms over her balcony rail wasn't exactly Brienne's idea of fun, but Margaery seemed determined and Sansa, as always, had been immediately on her side. Yara had been indifferent about the whole thing, seeing as she was not into men and therefore throwing condoms didn't do much for her in terms of 'bad date - exorcism', but that meant she wasn't exactly against it either. Maybe the whole idea was funnier when you were half-drunk, which Brienne wasn't."Why does it have to be my balcony?"She didn't even want to imagine the embarrassment if one of her neighbors saw her do this. Or even worse, if Stannis, the head of the "environmental committee" saw them and made them go down to pick up the litter. He would be giving her the stink eye for at least a month and he'd just stopped doing it two weeks ago from the last time she'd violated one of his many, many rules."It's your turn to host girl's night. Plus, I don't have a balcony" Margaery shrugged, picking up the laundry basket and carrying it to the living room. "Girls, grab your bombs!""Be quick about it, then" Brienne finally relented, seeing as the first batch of 'weapons' was being picked up already and her friends were making their way outside."Yeah yeah. You need to lighten up, Brie! We're not aiming at anything, just smash those suckers on the pavement, okay? I'll pick them up when I leave, no harm done, it's just water after all. Sansa? Let the music play! Yara, grab the champagne bottle!""One step ahead of you" Yara grinned, taking a healthy swig straight from the bottle. Sansa ran back inside, pulled her phone out of her handbag and turned the volume all the way up, so that one of those generic upbeat popsongs filled the air around them."Wanna do the honors? It's your balcony.""Definitely not.""Suit yourself. Okay...I dedicate this first throw to the terrible Royce Robar. Horrible date, and the beginning of the non-existence of my sex life!"Taking a quick look downstairs to see that the coast was clear, Marge drew back her arm and threw the condom with all her might. It didn't fly very far and burst on the pavement below them with a loud splat."Woohooo! Who's next?"The next few minutes pretty much were a back-and-forth of Marge and Sansa tossing a condom, yelling the name of some guy they'd been out with in the past, why they sucked and taking a swig of champagne, and eventually even Yara said "Fuck it" and threw one while Brienne kept looking left and right to check that indeed no one was coming and no one saw them."We're down to the last one. This one is yours, Brienne!" Marge said, holding out the last condom."I'm good. Just throw the damn thing and let's get back inside.""Oh come on, you have to! It's..us bonding" Sansa chimed in."We've been friends for years now, we're bonded.""Come on, don't be a party pooper. Think of that rat bastard Hyle Hunt and throw the thing."Hyle had been her own unfortunate and recently only date. He'd been polite, the restaurant they'd gone to had been nice and it had been a quite pleasant evening until he'd asked for the bill and told her they'd have to fuck at her place, because his roommate would never let him live down bringing home a woman with her looks. At her shocked stare he'd simply shrugged and continued in a reassuring voice that he really didn't care once the lights were off. At which point Brienne had dumped the rest of her cider on him and stormed out."Ooh yes! Hyle C-U-Next-Tuesday! Do it, do it!""Brienne, Brienne, Brienne!""Honestly, I don't have to--""Catch!"Margaery just threw the condom at her in a wide and slow toss. Brienne fumbled to catch it and threw it right back at her friend who in turn threw it at Yara. A short game of catching and tossing ensued until Brienne didn't manage to safely catch the wobbly condom coming from Sansa and it slipped out of her grip again to tumble over the railing."Ooops" Marge giggled.Brienne hadn't even managed to hurry to the railing and take a look, when they already heard a very loud and very angry.."What the fuck?!"Peering down, she saw a blonde man in a drenched suit standing right under her balcony on the sidewalk. He wiped water from his face and for a moment, looked around before he realized that the attack on him had come from above. A moment that all of her traitorous friends had used to duck beneath the balcony railing, leaving only Brienne standing there. Sansa was tugging on her shirt, urging her to duck down as well. But it was too late for that. The guy was already glaring at her."You son-of-a---!"With wide eyes, Brienne saw him turn to her building and march angrily into the direction of the entrance. He wasn't gonna come up here, was he?"Turn that music off, Sansa!""Relax Brienne. It's not like he knows us. There are like 20 apartments in this building.""Turn it off anyway. We're done here" She replied in a no-nonsense tone she rarely used.Sansa got up from the floor and silenced her phone. Grabbing the empty laundry basket, Brienne marched back into her apartment, listening intently for any noise from the hallway in front of her door.She didn't have to wait long. Apparently, even in a building with 20 apartments it wasn't all that hard to find hers and it wasn't three minutes later when there was pounding on her door that didn't let up."We don't have to open" Sansa whispered."Yeah, he'll go away" Marge agreed."Or kick in the door" Yara deadpanned.Brienne looked from one girl to the other. Then she shook her head and walked over to her front door. This had been an accident, and an apology surely would clear everything up. Besides, him being angry was understandable and even an accidental mistake was one that she was going to own up to. It was simply the right thing to do."Don't! Brie!"Ignoring the whispered hiss in her back, Brienne opened the door. In front of her, his fist raised for another round of bangs against her door, stood the livid looking man she'd accidentally dropped her water balloon..err..water condom..on. And of course, because the Gods hated her, he was gorgeous. After all, it was always extra special to make an idiot out of oneself in front of someone attractive, right? His blonde hair was plastered to his forehead, his green eyes were blazing and the shirt he was wearing under his suit was sticking to his well-defined chest underneath the wet and opened jacket."Ser, I'm terri--" Brienne tried to begin her apology, but didn't get very far before angry hot guy interrupted her."Listen you fucke---Gods, you're a woman!" He exclaimed.Brienne looked down at herself. She hadn't dressed up for girl's night seeing as it took place in her apartment and was only wearing an old t-shirt and jeans shorts, but mistaking her for a man? Then again, he'd only seen her from below and from the distance of five floors and the balcony railing had hidden the lower part of her body. In all honesty, she couldn't even claim that this particular misunderstanding had never happened to her before."Of course she's a woman, what are you, blind?" Yara called from behind her."I could've been! Who knows what you put into those balloons!" he fired back with a quick glance towards her friends, before his green eyes focused on Brienne again, giving her a second once-over, his gaze taking a long break on her bare legs."Drama queen" Sansa muttered, however not quiet enough for her not to be understood."Shut it, Aunt Flo. I'm entitled to being angry and you know it!""Hey! Don't insult her!" Marge shouted before turning to Sansa, "Your hair is beautiful, sweetie.""Or what? You gonna drop another water balloon on me?""No, but we can kick you in t--" Yara began."Everyone, calm down!" Brienne called loudly, looking back and forth between the guy and her friends before her gaze settled on him. "Ser, we're really sorry.""That's nice, but is it gonna make my 2000 dragon suit magically dry again? I don't think so. This is a custom-tailored Forel, fyi."Even for someone as disinterested in fashion as she was, that name rung a bell with Brienne. She felt her pulse go up. He wasn't gonna sue her for a new suit just out of spite, was he? If he could afford that kind of clothes, he must have been rich. Which she wasn't."It was an accident, we didn't mean to hit you. My friend had these.. condoms and we..I..we're sorry.""Throwing condoms over the balcony?" He snickered. "What are you, the tallest five year old in the world?""We were just..having fun. And it's just water. It won't even stain.""Just because you obviously don't have no use for condoms--""Hey!" Yara growled, but Brienne had this herself."Ser, I understand that you're angry, but insulting me is not necessary nor will I tolerate it.""Who's insulting you? I'm not insulting you, I'm just saying you're obviously not using them if you throw them over the balcony instead. Trust me, you'll know when I'm insulting you.. wench." He ended with a grin."I am not a wench!""Whatever. But just so you know, you're gonna pay for my dry cleaning.""It's just water!""I don't care. It's the principle of the whole thing.""It's fine Brie. I'll pay for it" Margaery spoke up, getting her check book from her purse."Brie? What kind of name is that? Were your parents overly fond of cheese?""They were not. It's short for Brienne." And why had she told him that?!"Well, Brienne.." He drawled, trying the name out. "Is this your apartment?""What? Err..yes?" Brienne stammered, cursing her inability to lie."Good. You're a giant, you must have clothes that fit me. Gimme, because I'm not walking home like this.""I--""Instead of paying for my dry cleaning. But don't even think about giving me a fucking dress.""I--""If you even own a dress.""I'm not giving you any of my clothes!""You can use your friend's check to buy yourself a new outfit. Since the ensemble you're currently wearing strongly indicates that you shop at thrift stores, it'll be practically enough for a whole wardrobe."Brienne glared at the guy that in reply merely smirked, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest."I'm serious, wench, I'm not leaving like this."Though he didn't sound all that angry anymore she was so very tempted to slam the door close, but he'd probably just start knocking again and this time demand her to stomach the bill for his rhinoplasty or something."Want me to call the cops on his ass?" Yara asked.Brienne shook her head. She just wanted this over with. All of it. Girl's night was so gonna be over once this man was dealt with. And, so she vowed to herself, it was never gonna take place in her apartment again."Just..follow me."Leading the guy into her bedroom, Brienne went to the closet, pulling out the oldest pair of sweatpants she owned and a novelty t-shirt she'd gotten on a trip to DragonWorld."So this is where the magic doesn't happen, huh?" He commented, looking around."Get changed and leave." Brienne replied icily, putting the clothes on a chair in the corner."What? No privacy? You just gonna stand here and watch?"It actually sounded like he was enjoying this."Wha--No!" she exclaimed, whirling around, eyes wide."Cause I don't have a problem with that." He shrugged, taking off the jacket and beginning to unbutton the shirt. Yep, he was definitely enjoying this. Even that damn smirk was back."Ugh!"Practically fleeing from her own bedroom, Brienne slammed the door close behind her. Sansa, Yara and Margaery were peering around the corner of the livingroom's doorway."What happened?""Are you okay?""Did pretty boy try something? Need me to rough him up for you?""Nothing happened. Yes, I am. No. Just...go back inside. He'll be gone in a moment, and if you don't mind I'd like to be alone then.""Shouldn't you be in there with him? What if he steals your stuff?" Sansa whisper-hissed."The guy is wearing a 2000 dragon suit, I don't think he'll be interested in Brienne's collection of tattered books.""But what if he's a klepto, Marge? Rich people can be kleptos too. On Red Keep Diaries there was an episode--""Gods Sansa, you need to lay off the soap opera binge watching.""Soap opera? More like soft porn.""It's done very tastefully, thank you Yara.""Can we all agree that this is not an episode of your getting-in-the-mood program?""Fine. Make fun of me. But if half of Brie's jewelry is gone once this guy has left, I reserve the right to say I told you so.""What jewelry? She doesn't wear any.""Okay fine. But what if he's going through her panties drawer?"Brienne's eyebrows rose to high she could practically feel them touch her hairline. She hadn't even considered that! Maybe she should check to see the guy wasn't doing something weird. Rapping against the door, she thought she heard an answering grunt and twisted the knob, to open the door halfway. And froze.The guy had stripped down to his boxers and was scrutinizing one of the two dresses Brienne owned, that had been hidden way back in her closet because it was too short and too pink, a remains of a costume party way back when that she'd just never thrown away. But that wasn't even the worst part. His boxer briefs were clearly tented as he was rubbing the fabric between his fingers."You pervert!" she yelled.The guy spun around, his own wide eyes going from Brienne to his crotch to the dress he was still holding on to and back again."This is not what it looks like, I swear it!""Get out!" She shouted, storming inside."I honestly didn--" He tried again, raising his hands in a placating manner, still holding the dress in one of them.But Brienne wasn't listening. Grabbing pervert by the arm and his wet clothes with her free hand, she dragged him out of the room, down the hallway to the door and flung it open before she shoved him out, his crumpled expensive suit following immediately after."Knock on this door again and I will call the police!" she growled, bending down to throw the hideous pink dress he'd dropped by the door at him. It wasn't like she had been planning to ever wear it again and now it was forever tainted too."But--"The slamming door cut off whatever he'd wanted to say and Brienne leaned against it from the inside, a disgusted look on her face."Did my eyes play a trick on me or did he have a boner over your dress?""Gross!""Well done, Brie!"A polite knock came from the other side of the door."Wench? Brienne?`Can we talk about this? Come on." came from the hallway."Oh that's it. The police are on their way!" Brienne called back, bluffing."Your pervy ass is going to jail!""You can wear your new dress, sicko!""Dress-jerker!""That word didn't even make sense, Sansa.""You know what I meant.""I'm just saying you're making it sound as if he were giving the dress a rub.""He did. In a way.""Point taken.""Shhh! I can't hear anything!"Putting her ear against the door, Brienne listened intently for any noise. There was none. Opening the door a crack after a minute or two, she peered out into the hallway, but couldn't see anything. Finally, she opened the door all the way and stepped out. The hallway was empty."Guys..he's gone.""Good.""Talk about a walk of shame. I wanna see this!"Running back to the balcony, the girls peered over the railing down onto the street. All they could see were the remains of the water balloon-condoms they'd thrown earlier. The guy must've run off as fast as he could. And who could blame him?Having had a few minutes to come a bit more to terms with what had happened, Brienne felt somewhat bad. Pervert or not, she had just sent a man out on the streets of King's Landing in his underwear. It just had been so shocking, seeing him, with her clothes and..well, having an erection over them. Even when she had been knocking on the door, she hadn't really expected him to snoop through her underwear drawer and so seeing him do something even worse had been a double-whammy. He hadn't seemed the type for it. But, so Brienne guessed, this was just another proof that her radar for people wasn't all that great. Maybe he was one of those men that liked to wear women's clothing. Which was fine, as long as it weren't her clothes."You guys? I've had my fill of entertainment for tonight. Do you mind if girl's night ends here and now?" Brienne said as the others were walking back inside."You sure you want to be alone now? You just had a perv in your apartment.""But he's gone now. And I'm fine. I just..want to have some peace and quiet.""Well, if you're sure...but you call me if you need to talk or vent or..anything. Okay?""Okay. Thanks, Marge. And pick those condoms off the sidewalk. You promised.""Yes, Miss Tarth. Alright, ladies: You heard her. We're out."After more byes, promises to text and hugs her friends finally took off. Brienne threw herself on the couch, enjoying the silence and taking a deep breath. What an evening!After having sat there for a while, she went to her bedroom to see if pervie had touched anything else of her stuff and whether she needed to deep-clean the room tonight. Everything was neat, the way it should've been, but she was going to give every surface a good scrub tomorrow night anyway. Walking over to the window to close the blinds, Brienne saw something by the chair out of the corner of her eyes. Probably the clothes she'd put out for the guy to wear. Only that the color wasn't right. She turned, took a closer look and saw that it was a crumpled piece of fabric. Bending to pick it up, she realized that it was the guy's jacket. And it had his keys in the left side pocket. Oh crap!Brienne sat down on her bed for a moment to think. Well, he knew where she lived, so he could come back and pick it up any time. But since she'd threatened him with the police, who knew when that was going to be. Or if he'd send the cops her way instead which was something she so didn't need. And what if he lived alone and was now locked out of his house, wearing either still wet pants or a pink dress?Grabbing the jacket yet again, Brienne put her hands into the other pockets. Maybe there was a receipt or anything with his name on it, so that she could call to tell him picking up his jacket was okay, no cops involved....which was stupid, since how the heck would he answer his phone if he couldn't get into his house?Sliding her fingers into the inner pocket, Brienne found something. His wallet. This was getting worse and worse. He currently had no keys and no money? She quickly flipped it open and pulled out his driver's license that was easily to see through a plastic compartment to get his name and address.Jaime Lannister. 221F Visenya Drive.Damn, he lived in a pretty nice neighborhood. And double-damn, he was one of those people that managed to even look hot in a picture taken by a bored DMV employee.Well, there was nothing for it. She would have to bring Jaime Lannister aka The Pervert his belongings. But she was not gonna go unarmed.After changing her outfit and putting the still somewhat damp jacket into a plastic bag, Brienne had slid a small container of pepper spray in her back pocket and set off towards Visenya Drive. She had to circle the block a few times before a parking space became available and used the time to go through the plan again. Find his door, ring the bell, hand the plastic bag to whoever opened and get the hell out of there. If no one opened, she was just gonna put the bag in front of his door for him to find it or give it to a neighbor. Out of the two, she liked the second scenario a lot better, which was the first indicator that it was probably not gonna be that way.Pulling her pepper spray out, just in case because one could never trust a perverted dress-toucher, Brienne entered the building and went in search of Jaime Lannister's apartment which she found easily enough. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. No reaction from inside. She decided to give it one more try and then try the neighbor's door. Knocking again, there was a shuffling noise, and the door swung open, revealing Jaime Lannister. Wearing his damp pants and holding her dress in his hand."You!" He exclaimed with wide eyes, seemingly making a movement towards her.Brienne couldn't say if he startled her or if her finger simply slipped, but it didn't really matter anyway, since the result was the same. She pressed on the pepper spray's nozzle and released a healthy dose into the air between them.Brienne dropped the canister and started coughing. Jaime started screaming."My eye!" He yelled. Dropping the dress, his hand came up to press against his right eye while he sort of folded as much into a ball as one could while standing."Oh Gods! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" Brienne repeated on loop inbetween coughs."Lady, are you nuts?!""I was just..your clothes..and you need your keys..and I..wanted to help..and--""Help? Help me with what? Getting handicapped parking from now on? I can't see shit!""I'm so sorry!""Gods, it burns!""You need to rinse it.""No shit!""Well, what are you standing there then? Go wash out your eyes!" Brienne ordered, making a shooing gesture with her hands."The other one's all teared up as well. Damn! What have I ever done to you, woman? I wasn't doi---gah!"He seemed as if he was about to drop on his knees any second now. It must have hurt something fierce. Brienne felt horrible."How can I help?""Any more of your 'help' will kill me, I'm sure of it.""Mister Lannister, I only want to--""Oh for the love of the Seven, stop talking, just help me find my bathroom!"He reached out with his left arm and blindly moved it around. Brienne grabbed it and, turning him around, entered the apartment."Last door on the right" Jaime instructed and so she took off, slowly leading him towards relief.In the bathroom, she made him lean backwards over the sink and turned on the faucet. He hissed in pain as the water hit him."It should get better soon" Brienne tried to console him."Just don't drown me, wench.""I am truly sorry, Ser. I don't even know how it happened" Brienne apologized again. She wasn't even going to comment on the 'wench'."Why did you even have that spray on you?""I..well, you have to admit that the impression I got of you tonight wasn't the best one, and I thought that maybe you might be angry and or perverted so I'd better arm myself. I mean, you were stroking my dress and your.." She trailed off, not being able to decide which word to use."I didn't have a hard-on over your dress.""What?""That's what I was trying to tell you when you manhandled me, or womanhandled if you will, out of your apartment.""Oh" Brienne let that sink in for a second, before another thought popped up in her head. "Then why were you still holding it just now when you opened the door?""I literally got in five minutes before you got here. I seem to somehow have misplaced my keys, you know?" He tried to wink under the stream of water and winced. Brienne couldn't help but smile a little. He looked cute, and now it seemed he wasn't a pervert after all, just a guy having a terrible, horrible, really bad, no good day."Had to call in a locksmith, pay him, get changed somewhat..I was just picking it up to put it away when you knocked. Trust me: I don't get all hot and bothered over pink polyester. Never have, never will. And while I'm sure it would suit me, I guess the chest hair would spoil the look."But he did have an erection in her bedroom, so something must've gotten him all hot and bothered. Maybe he'd been looking for a better material?"You did go through my closet, though.""I guess I can't deny that.""Why did you do that? Going through a complete stranger's closet?""Curiosity?" He shrugged. "I think you can turn the water off now, it feels a lot better."Turning off the faucet, Brienne looked around for a towel and found one hanging nearby that she handed to him to dry off while he got up with a groan."Curiosity? It's rude, it's impolite, a complete invasion of my privacy and you deserved being kicked out on that alone.""You weren't supposed to catch me in the act, if it makes any difference." He replied while rubbing the towel over his wet hair."It doesn't."Putting the towel away, Jaime sighed."Look, was it wrong? Yeah, probably. Would I do it again? To be honest, yeah, probably. But I did not do it for a kick or to get off, so that's gotta count for something as well. I was just gonna check real quick to see if you had any dresses, because I imagine your legs would look killer in them.""M-my legs?" Brienne stammered."Uh huh. They're amazing. And, I confess that imagining your endless legs on display in that pink little number may have gotten to my head, or my..other head, as it were, a little.""I.." That boner had been because of her?! It was unbelievable."It was not intentional, it just happened. I'm a legs man and I have a great sense of imagination.""Are you mocking me?""Why would I do that?" He asked, bewildered."I know I'm not attractive."Jaime squinted his still red eyes and let his gaze slowly wander down her body."I know my eyesight is not 20/20 right now, but I beg to differ. You must know that you have a rocking body."So far, Brienne thought, her body had never been called rocking. Mannish, ungainly, homely, even gargantuan on one occasion, but never that. But even if he thought so, body was one thing, face was another."I believe the term that is colloquially used by many men for women like me is.. butterface." She said, refusing to look away."Yeah? Well, I'm not 'many men'" Jaime replied with another shrug, holding her gaze. "I liked how your eyes blazed when you thought I had insulted you. And how red your cheeks got. Like they are right now." He smiled. "You must have realized that I was just trying to rile you up. As you said, it was just water.""So you were only playing at being angry?""Oh when that water balloon hit me, I was plenty angry, trust me. But then I met this inexplicably cute wench and I couldn't stay mad. Now, my brother, he always tells me I completely suck at flirting, so I guess he's right." He chuckled. "New locks, glasses for my now weakened eyes..this is shaping up to be a quite expensive first date.""Date?" Brienne repeated, flabbergasted."You do realize you practically have to go out with me to make up for..well, everything you put me through today?""Aren't you scared of more bodily harm coming your way?""Nah, not really. There's not a lot you can do to me in a public place. So how about it, Brienne: You, me, dinner...I even have this pink dress you can borrow..""Thanks, but pink is not my color.""That we agree on. You should wear something blue, to compliment your eyes. I'm sure you can find something until tomorrow night, say 8?"He stood there all self-assuredly, with a cocky grin on his well-shaped lips, but there was a hint of insecurity in his eyes and it was that more than anything else that made her reply.."I'm sure I can."
11328093	Deep Water	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Lilie Bird [archived by scullyslash_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-08-04T00:00:00", "words": "3,678", "Additional Tags": "Drama, Romance, Relationship(s), Vignette, Hurt/Comfort", "Relationship": "Monica Reyes/Dana Scully", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "ScullySlash", "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 }	Deep Water Deep Water by Lilie Bird Deep Water By Lilie Bird Disclaimer: These lovely women aren't mine even if I wish they were. Lucy and Jamie are mine even if I don't really need them ... isn't it always that way? Yadda yadda yadda. Summary: Dana gets into an argument with an old friend and turns up at Monica's, a bit too drunk, opening her heart. Rating: R. It's girl and girl ... so anybody who knows what's good can read it. Author's note: I don't know if there's anybody out there still reading this stuff. I do. And I would like to get any kind of reaction. It's my first (finished) Dana-Monica-piece ... be kind! English is not the language I grew up with ... (it hasn't been beta-read) It's short and sweet. Feedback to Thanks to: Lovely Gillian Leigh Anderson for being such a kick-ass gal ... Scully rocks! Miss Anne Elizabeth Gish for playing herself into my heart ... had my doubts at first, now I adore her! Thank you Jewel for sharing your thoughts via your music. And last but not least to all those SR shippers out there for inspiration! This is for you. DEEP WATER What the hell was I thinking? Running to her on a lonely Friday night, obviously ruining her date with a gorgeous guy and turning around when it gets too difficult. I chickened out again. I mean, I don't know what I hoped she'd do. I totally got that she's not feeling the way about me I wanted her to feel. She means so much to me. I don't know what I'd done without her. Argh, how could I destroy this really comfortable friendship we built by letting alcohol overrule my reasonable self? Why did I tell her what I feel? Why couldn't I go home after having a drink, drowning in my own blue sadness? ... but let me start some hours earlier. A friend of mine from college days called me just when I was about to leave the office. She asked the usual stuff. What I was doing with my life. She had so many questions. I couldn't even think straight for a while. Well, I started to tell her my story. Not everything, but the things I thought were interesting. I didn't expect to tell her what I feel about Monica, but I did. And I totally regret it now. Again. What the hell was I thinking? I don't know how we came to talk about it, but here's what we both said: "So you got that cute little baby boy ..." she summed up my earlier talking. I interrupted: "I don't want to talk about that now." "Why? Is there something wrong with him or his father?" I really don't know where she picked up that thought. Probably female intuition. "Lucy, just let me say this: I had to give William away ..." I couldn't go on because she blurted out with a tone of sorrow in her voice that sounded quite credible: "Oh my goodness, I can't imagine how hard that just must have been for you and the baby's father." "Stop talking about the father. He's not around either and I'm not expecting to see him again." I think that came out harder than it was meant. I took a deep breath and sat down on the top of my table, taking out my calendar to write the number down my phone was showing. She was quiet for a few seconds but finally she started talking again: "Poor honey, you were totally alone through these hard days?" `Honey'. That caused my heart to jump out of rhythm just for one beat. Monica called me that during an awful night she lended me her shoulder to cry on. And it caused my heart to react like this just then, too. "No, I wasn't alone. There was my mother, who besides didn't understand even one of my reasons ... and there was Monica Reyes, an FBI Agent I used to work with during some cases." My voice must have shown something, because she confronted me with my feelings. "So Monica Reyes is it? Is she cute?" I didn't know what to say. "Lucy, what are you talking about?" I could feel my face heaten up. At that moment I was just so happy that we were just on the phone. "You know, Dana, I know what you are looking for. And I know that it's not someone with strong arms, a deep voice and the need to get rid of a beard every morning. I just wondered when you'd get it. I mean, get that you're not the average American catholic girl." "Wait. Strong arms could do it for me." I joked. The same moment I wanted to bump my head against the nearest wall. She laughed. "Does this Monica Reyes have strong arms?" I had no idea where this was leading but I followed: "Oh yeah, she has. Long and tender arms that protect you from the worst demons of fear and loneliness." "That's so romantic." She was cheerful. She had me exactly where she wanted me to be. I left the cold and distant FBI woman. I was back in the eighties. Back to my chatty college self. "But I really don't know why I'm telling you this." She laughed triumphantly. "Because you craved to tell somebody. And here I am. Your blonde college crush, ready to hear everything." She was right. I once had a crush on her and I don't even remember telling her. Maybe I never did. She just knew like she seems to know everything about me. And she'd stated the right point. I really wanted to tell somebody. So I started to turn my inside out: "Monica is wonderful. I think I wouldn't still be here if it wasn't for her. She was around every time I needed someone and she always listened. She even listened to the things I didn't say. Sometimes I think she looks through your eyes right into your soul." She let go a kinda dreamy noise. "My dear, you've fallen so deep ... I don't know if anybody can pick you up from down there." I left my dreamy eighties self and turned into the sarcastic one: "I think that's what I need. Someone to wake me up." "Why?" She asked and I just knew the look she had now even though I couldn't see her at the moment. Puzzled and unbelievably cute. She's always been the romantic one. The one who believed in the one love that you'll stumble over sooner or later and that'll last forever. She kinda lived in a fairytale sometimes. "Because Monica is not interested and I assume that it would be much better for my health to stop thinking about her. About me and her together." I was my skeptical self, Dr. Dana Scully, again. But I felt miserable. I didn't feel like me. She seemed to think over something to answer because she was quiet. A rare thing with her who always had something to say. "What makes you think that? I mean, did you two talk about your feelings or something?" "Ha ha." I tried to make it sound funny but it came out with a bit too much sarcasm. "Do you really believe that I go to her, tell her that I have a thing for her ... that I kinda like her more than it's usual on the friendship base? Do you know me or what?" "I think I knew you once and I thought that I still know you. I mean, leave this catholic girl behind. Knock on her door and say that you love her." She tried hard but I still wasn't so sure about this idea. "Let me tell you something for a change, Lucy. Straight, straighter, Monica. Got it?" I said. And I was pretty sure that I was right. She just didn't give up. "Why do you think that?" "Because I know she had an affair with an Assistant Director and is about to start one with her partner, John Doggett." I wasn't even sure about what was once between Follmer and her, but I was pretty sure about the liaison between her and John. I think we talked on and on for about thirty minutes. And she went pretty mean in the end. That's why I got angry and ended the phone call quite abruptly just to end up in a small bar close to Monica's. I drank more than my usual self would consider being healthy and ended up in the hallway in front of her door. I wasn't sure if I should go any further and waited staring at her door. Unfortunately they'd ordered pizza and the guy who delivered it came too early and too suddenly for me to end my thoughts. The door swung open after he knocked and I was perplex and couldn't move. She appeared and was more beautiful than I ever thought she or at least someone could ever be. And as it had to happen, after paying the pizza guy she saw me and stopped in her movements to close the door. "Dana. What are you doing here?" She looked quizzically. But even that look was so incredibly sexy that I was afraid I'd never get a word out of my mouth again. "I ... I ... was about to leave. I shouldn't have come here. I was ... in the neighborhood and thought about a visit." I stumbled over my words. She looked at me, smiling and knowing what I was doing. But I didn't interpret it this way. I just saw her beautiful smile. "I'm off. It's Friday night and I didn't want to disturb." I turned away but she stopped me. "Wait. Dana. Are you sure you don't need something? You can come in for a few minutes ... I mean if it's something serious I can send Jamie away and we can talk ..." Speak of the devil. This Jamie appeared in the background and I knew that I made a huge mistake. He was gorgeous even if not the type I considered Monica to adore. But well, I still dreamed about her adoring me. "No, I'm okay ... I just needed ..." I stopped before I could say something too bold. Something I would regret later. "Hey Mon, everything alright? You need some more money for the pizza?" Jamie asked with a voice that made me wonder about his age. She turned around, kinda trying to avoid him seeing me but couldn't stop him. So she had to introduce me. "Jamie, this is Dana. An FBI Agent I sometimes work with. Dana, this is Jamie. A friend." Him. A friend. Me. Someone she sometimes works with. Nice. I tried to smile and reached my hand out to say hello the proper way, but I kinda stumbled over my own feet and nearly fell into him instead of just greeting him. "Sorry." I mumbled but he seemed to not mind it at all. "Nice to meet ya." He said and turned to Monica. "Are you two done here or is this something more time consuming?" She looked at him a bit estranged and angry and I smiled. "Could you take the pizza to the living room? I'll be there in a minute." Then she turned to me again. "What is it? Are you sure you really don't wanna come in? I think the pizza is big enough for the three of us ..." I backed away one step. "No. I'm okay. Don't want to ruin your evening anymore. He just seems to not like me that much." She was quiet for a few seconds and I couldn't see what she was thinking about. Then she started talking again: "Dana, I can see that you are drunk and I don't like that. But if you don't want me to help ... if you want to go ... just go. And if there's anything you need, anything that comes to your mind, call me. I'll be there in an instant. Okay?" I nodded. "Okay. Anything?" "Anything!" She assured. I was about to turn around and leave. She stood in the doorway and watched me go as I turned around after a few steps to do something really stupid: "Monica, I need you. I need you more than I ever needed someone. And seeing you with someone else is breaking my heart ... but I think that's the way my life always is." I turned away and entered the elevator before she could move. As the elevator doors closed I could see her still standing in the doorway, watching me with a look I just couldn't interpret. She even started to speak but I could just hear the first words: "Dana, I'm sorry ..." That's all. I knew how to interpret these words. She likes me, there's no doubt. But she couldn't love me. I wasn't a Jamie or a John or a Brad Follmer. I was Dana. A woman. An awfully lonely woman. This one night when she was at my place drying my tears it just happened that we kissed. It was an innocent kiss that said "I'm here when you need me." It was like a dream, so surreal. I don't know if I maybe just think it happened but it didn't really happen. But I can still feel her velvety lips on mine when I close my eyes. She backed away very quickly after it happened and excused herself with a pathetic lie. But I let her go and we never talked about it afterwards. Actually, I was feeling very stupid right now. I felt like I was fifteen or something again and suffered from my first unanswered crush. Stupid. So here I was. Driving home in silence. The radio was off because there's just crap on air I couldn't stand right now. Tons of love songs and happy couples greeting each other. In front of my building I gratefully found an empty parking spot and turned the engine off. My apartment was dark and silent and a bit cold. I forgot to turn the air conditioner off when I left this morning. Great. Now I was going to freeze not just from feeling extremely down and drunk but also because it's really cold in here. I entered the kitchen to put some water for tea on. It could cure my inner coldness as well as my upcoming hangover. I wanted to hear some music. It should be something very stupid and poppy to underline the state I was in. A teenage mood at it's highest. But because of the fact I'm actually nearly forty I don't have those CDs in stock. So I decided Jewel could work. I let her cure my Spirit. As the first notes of "Deep Water" started I settled myself down on the couch. Half dreaming, half drinking the delicious tea. Ironically, it's tea Monica got me once I was feeling extremely down. I didn't know if it's the tea and its memories or really the present situation, but I was feeling down down down again. The darkest shades of blue couldn't color my mood the right way, because it's even darker. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and as though I knew it's so damn stupid I couldn't stop crying. Nice. Now I was sitting in my almost dark and freezingly cold living room, crying because of my stubborn stupid self that just couldn't stop loving the unreachable, incredibly adorable Monica Reyes. Suddenly somebody knocked on the door quite hesitantly. I was not sure if I should open the door in this late hours but I kinda felt that a killer now would be a very welcome visitor. I tried to wipe the tears away that must have left red streams on my face and opened the door. It wasn't a killer. It was her. "Hey." She said half smiling, half unsure about if it's the right way to start this conversation. I was totally perplexed. No word left my lips as I gestured her to come in. I closed the door and turned to her, putting my arms around myself like I wanted to protect myself from something evil. I couldn't think of anything intelligent or funny to say so I just asked: "Where's Jamie?" She looked a bit puzzled that I chose this question but she answered honestly: "I sent him home after you visited." "I'm sorry ... I didn't want to destroy your night with him. I'm really sorry." I really was. She let her jacket slip off from her shoulders to put it down on a nearby chair. "Can I sit down? Can we just talk about some things?" She looked at me this Monica way, her brown eyes staring at you with a caring touch in them. I hesitated. "Monica, I'm not feeling very well. I drank a bit too much and I've lost myself in a whirl of bad feelings. I don't know if it's a good idea ..." But she stopped me. She closed the distance between us and touched my cheek with her tender fingers. "I'm sorry, Dana. I didn't ... I don't want you to cry because of me." She caressed my face with these soft fingertips of hers and I started to cry again. It felt so good, but it wasn't right to feel this way about Monica. She spoke again: "Don't cry. I'm here now. Everything is going to be fine." That sounded so much like the words she'd said when I cried over losing William and I was starting to believe that she wasn't getting the situation here. I backed away and showed her to sit down on the couch. "Do you want something to drink?" She sat down and looked at me, not knowing what to think about me and the whole situation. "No, I'm fine." She looked down at her hands. "Dana, could you just sit and let me tell you something?" I did as told and sat down on the other end of the couch. There was quite a distance between us, but I didn't feel uncomfortable about it. "What's wrong? Anything I told you when I was at the hallway in front of your door? I'm very sorry for that ... I think I shouldn't have done that. I guess our working relationship will be infected by that at least for a few days ..." "Dana, stop ..." she interrupted me. "Don't say sorry all the time. I'm not sorry about the situation and I think our working relationship will be infected some more if I'd keep talking." She stopped. I didn't get what she meant so I said: "Keep talking then." Actually, that could've been a bit funny but I didn't feel like laughing right now. She turned to me and moved closer which caused my heartbeat to quicken. "Do you remember the other night when I was here at your place and we ... I mean, you and me actually ... kissed?" I nodded a yes. As if I could ever forget that. "I was quite confused afterwards. And, Dana, not because I didn't enjoy it ..." She looked right into my eyes. Then she continued: "I felt something." My head began to ache because of all the thoughts that already had run through it the whole evening. "What? Monica, what are you about to tell me?" She looked at her hands again. "It was this high school feeling of ..." she thought about what it really was like, I guess. "... being kissed by the football quarterback. You know what I mean?" I knew, even if I've never been kissed by the football quarterback. Partly because these guys hadn't found their interest in me because I wasn't a cheerleader and partly because I've never been interested in them, because they were male, altogether. I looked at Monica who had stopped talking and didn't seem to start again. "So am I getting you right then?" She nodded. "I mean ... I don't understand at all ... but there definitely is something. That's why I came straight to you after you confronted me with your feelings tonight. I thought what happened the other night was just some result of you feeling so extremely down and I wasn't sure if you felt anything ..." I interrupted her by moving closer and kissing her right on the lips feverishly. Those lips. Velvety and soft. It was heaven. I kinda wondered when the strings actually will start to play a heartwarming melody. She didn't move at first but after just a few seconds she joined in by parting her lips and moaning softly. "Dana ..." Her hands came up to my face and her fingers started to wander through my hair but then she stopped and moved away. Just an inch. She breathed as fast as I did and looked confused. I caressed her cheek with the back of my fingers which caused her to close the eyes. "What?" I wasn't sure if me listening to my instincts and kissing her has been the right thing to do. "Was it wrong? Is it going too fast?" She opened her eyes and smiled at me. Then she shook her head. "No. I just ... a few hours ago, I thought of ending the night in Jamie's arms ... it's just a bit weird ... now I'm with you and Jamie is totally forgotten. I don't even know what I saw in him ... why I wanted to date him tonight ..." I let go of her and leaned back. "I'm sorry that the night didn't end the way you wanted it to end." I wasn't sorry at all and I hoped she could hear the sound of irony in my voice. She seemed to understand because she crawled to me and leaned herself into me. Her lips came close to mine but she stopped in the movements. "It still could end my way ... well, with someone else in the leading role." THE END ... Enjoyed? Anyone? If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Lilie Bird
11310930	Chimera Tech Co	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Meruem (Hunter X Hunter), Chimera Ant Queen (Hunter X Hunter), Chimera Ants", "Fandom": "Hunter X Hunter", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Shally", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-26T00:00:00", "words": "3,794", "Additional Tags": "Office AU, Chimeras are human but are still terrible in their own special way, Everyone wants to fuck with pouf", "Relationship": "Komugi/Meruem", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "MeruKomu Madness", "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 }	The sound of designer heels, an expensive pair that was most likely studded in rivers of diamonds and hugged by velvet and gold, clicks against the marble floors. It was amazing how a sound so mundane, so everyday, could be the cause of such chaos in a professional, well known, multi million dollar company. Now it wasn't rare to hear a pair of heels bang against smooth tile (seeing how most of the women and few men preferred the footwear), but it was sharp tack tack tack, followed by the smell of roses that alerted most of the employees that the queen had made her appearance. The Queen, better known as the CEO of chimera communications and technology, rarely visited head office. The queen was a figure head. An older woman with warm brown skin and large oval eyes, her locks lay hidden by a dark red hijab that covered silver hair which was the only way to give away her age. She was someone who made her way across the world with her hand picked team, cutting deals, and sometimes cutting throats when it came to hard business (all for a good cause, however). There was no one in the world who could rival the empire she has built after the death of her late spouse, a cruel man who had given her nothing more than the one son who shared his facial characteristics, and had instantly become the woman's pride and joy. Being a single mother running a huge corporation had not been easy, but her employees were treated like family and as the company grew so did the bond between them To the Queen's right was Colt, walking in pace but always a step behind. He was one of the first men to be hired to work for the chimeras, his fierce ambition and sense of loyalty making him one of three executives in the entire company. With dark hair and sharp eyes, he always dressed professionally, his suit bearing tiny wings on the cufflinks as his one name brand element. He had coined the line himself, but always kept the chimera business dear to his heart, even as he travelled overseas with the queen to meet with other potential companies that they could overtake. "There are exactly fifty four hours and twenty seven minutes before our plane to Yorknew is due to leave." Colt says with a firmness that would be appalling to most, but to the queen, it was a tone bearing utmost respect. "Once we land from our detour in NGL we will be greeted by the head of the Zodiac corporation. Netero will be providing our rooms and dinner reservations, as per agreement." "Make a note of it to have my things sent over from NGL to yorknew via private blimp." She says swiftly, eyes running over the doors of offices where employees had pressed their faces against the glass in hopes of getting a view of the woman who had started it all. "I will make a note of it and send the message directly later today." Colt hums, his leather briefcase brushing against his thigh before someone darted into the hallway from seemingly nowhere, their blond hair flowing around them before being followed by a long silky black scarf and a whirlwind of glitter. Glancing back at Pouf, the head of the financial division and the backbone of this locations funds (as well as a full time stick in the mud), Colt wasn't surprised to see the man flustered. Colt had spent many months training with the blond, sometimes their ideas conflicting, until the rare moment where they made a earth shaking breakthrough together. When the queen had asked who would join her overseas, and who would manage head office (because it was only Pouf and Colt who she felt confident in placing this responsibility on), Pouf had been the one to lose the opportunity to be at her side, and was left behind. Later Colt had learned Pouf had given up the chance so Colt could take it. Although Colt didn't exactly get along with the man, they had learned to accept and trust each other, but it amused Colt greatly at how flustered Pouf always seemed to be. Pouf, with a clipboard and pen in hand, could not fathom the possibility of having overlooked this moment. Having Colt walk in suddenly would have been nothing to fret over. All Pouf needed to do was show some case files of their work stats and offer the man some black tea. But seeing the queen was often a blessing and a curse, as any employer would be. Hearing chatter break out in the hallways they passed, Pouf could only hope to smother this tension over and lead the guests to his own office as he informed the buildings head of the affairs taking place. "Madam president, your arrival is earlier than noted. I didn't have time to prepare the paperwork or speak to the other department heads or even-" Pouf is cut off as the woman smiles at him. "What did I say about you calling me madam president? I may be in my fifties but I'm not that old. Please, feel free to call me something less formal. Mother perhaps?" She chuckles as Pouf latches to her side, following her through the main lobby, "now, what are the numbers for this quadrant?" she asks, her tone shifting to one more appropriate for business. "Twelve percent with an estimated point three gross over the next four months." Pouf says proudly, his sharp eyes darting around the room in a panic, knowing what kind of insolent staff the building had and how lenient this divisions boss was. He wasn't sure (or more like, he was very sure how afraid he was) of how the queen was going to react. "And how is the department running, Pouf?" he jumps the the question he automatically dreaded, "has everything been going smoothly?" the woman prompts. "Of course!" Pouf blurts out, lying being his first thought, "business is booming and the clients are all happy!" "Fantastic, and what of the staff?" Pouf winces a moment and shivers when Colts eyes focus on him, before glancing down at the butterfly wing charm on poufs collar, a product from Colts "wing" line. "Absolutely amazing. The security is talented and have stopped all issues before they have time to unfold, especially from outside sources. Our scientists are busily working away on new creative, and very, very safe products for our consumers to buy into for the purpose of better communications. Our HR lead is one of the most positive and uplifting, providing amazing customer service and helping our staff with their personal qualms. Our head receptionist holds this family together, always working hard to keep everything in order. Ah, and the sales staff we have are not only respectful, but positively professional. We have three experts for our Public relations team who focus directly on branding our image with the goal of not only creating public events but also placing an emphasis on community. Our building manager is very active in taking care of any safety issues, as well as tending to the many plants we have in place to make a more positive environment. Our financial lead is like a caring father, who also manages to keep all the books updated weekly with our numbers. And of course, the department head and future CEO of the company has been the best, most supportive of leaders. We have no complaints about his ability." The Queen pauses and turns places a hand on Poufs arm, smiling in that ever so sweet way she did, reassuring him that his words were taken for face value and that she did not, even for a second, doubt him. It was that look that gave Pouf severe guilt, because he knew. Oh hell did he know that every word was just as far from the truth as it could be. "With a staff like this im sure all has been going well," she says firmly, turning around and continuing deeper into the building towards the cubicles in the open work space. D A N G E R. The word flashes through Poufs mind, and Colt picks up on the sudden tension. In seconds a large man with a suit as dark as his inky black hair approaches, a finger to his ear as he starts speaking, his name tag reading Youpi, along with chief of security. "Take the suspect to the west wing for investigation under clause 330 B, subsection c for trespassing." Youpi says into his ear piece, before looking to Pouf who was trying to subtly tell him to shut up. "It appears that NGL representatives have been protesting our use of technology again and this is the third break in this week at ground level. Bloster has apprehended the men and is now-" "This is a situation we can easily deal with!" Pouf grimaces as he speaks as the queen continues to walk, listening to Youpi give his report as they enter what could only be a mess hall. Passing the front desk for HR, sitting with his feet up talking away was Welfin, a tall, slender man with sharp eyes who had on a headset. Pouf could only hope the man was being civil. "You think that's a problem? Hell, you don't even know what a real trauma is. Seeing someone fight isn't worthy of a sick leave, the hell." Welfin barks up, leaning back in his chair, "you should see what I have to deal with here. One word: Zazan! I should be getting a four day weekend for putting up with her shit! Oh hell, Pouf!" Welfin hangs up and tosses the headset aside as he stands, following the group, not sure who the woman or the stiff were, but not caring in the slightest. "So that vacation I asked for, ya know the time off for next week, seeing how I've dealt with-" Pouf feels his eyes roll back into his head as he resists grabbing Welfin and choking the man, all while Youpi is still rambling about broken codes. "I assure you we have the best staff," Pouf raises his voice, gawking as Leol, Flutter, and Hina appear with huge posters and rave lights. Leol, tall and bulky in a band t-shirt, raises a hand at Pouf. Flutter, with his head of wiry hair, glances over Hina’s head, the petite woman jumping up excitably as the three rush over. Leol, as head of marketing, would often place up ads on buildings while Flutter would focus on anything skyward like blimps and billboards, while Hina dealt with television and radio ads. "Pouf, bud!" Leol grins, the three joining the group, "we got everything we need for the sponsor party. Even sick music by Morel the euro god-" "Great snacks and lots of booze!" Hina chimes in while raising a bottle of champagne as well as a few glow sticks. "The entertainment will be showing up in a few hours," Flutter buzzes, "we brought in quality chefs as well. The zodiacs have received their invites." Trying to catch his breath, Pouf begs for it to stop. "We do not hold parties. We are professionals!" "We decided to hire the dancers too," Leol continues. "I'm thinking two weeks is a little short, and I've been feeling under the weather so maybe three would suffice," Welfin strokes his chin "There have also been twelve incidents regarding broken office supplies that we are still in the process of replacing after last years incident," Youpi rambles. The group come across the secretary's desk near the back of the large room, where the curly haired Zazan sits painting her nails, looking annoyed as a smirking, energetic man talks at her. Spotting Pouf, Zazan grabs her nail filer and points it at him, "I do not get paid enough to deal with Cheetu so you better get him the hell out of my face or so help me I’ll file for harassment!" she snarls, joining the group and listing everything Cheetu had done to annoy her. "Our secretary is a loving, and respectable human being." Pouf grits out, feeling Colts eyes bore into his back. Cheetu, with zeal, heads to the front of the group, walking backwards with a grin as he waves for Poufs attention. The blond pales and his nails dig into his clipboard, his head shaking as in no, Cheetu, shut your damn mouth. "Okay great! Listen up to my new pitch!" Cheetu clears his throat, his salesperson representative self coming out, "Tired? Tired of technology running slow? Don't you wish you could talk faster? Don't you wish you could talk so fast that you would be abletotalktoeveryoneallthe-" Cheetus rambling becomes too quick and excited to understand and Pouf is dying. The queen makes it into the science sector and slowly Pouf whispers oh no as the sound of an explosion occurs, before a slight smoke makes its way out of the door. No one is phased as a being with white curly hair throws themself out of the room with their white medical lab coat a little singed. "That was a rush, hell yea!" they cough and notice the group, before leaping at Pouf, "the new coolant adhesive is almost done! We're making it less flammable but hell does it have a kick! It's amazing! I've never seen subject 2I9H 3000 react so fiverantly, there have only been four explosions this week!" Youpi taps his earpiece, "Pitou again. Send men to clean up. Extinguishers needed." "The vacation will help me relax and be a better HR lead! Come on, Pouf!" "These explosions are horrible for my headaches, especially when dealing with idiots!" Zazan whines. "Ya know if the budget was increased we could totally bring in a sick bartender, like the phantom troupe are an A-class party must have, right Flutter? Hina?" "Talk all the time with chimera communications! Never stop! Never stop talking just keep taking always-" "Ya know, with this experiment almost done, if i reversed the polarity I could probably make the adhesive into a bomb-" "Dont!" Pouf yells over the chatter, "absolutely do not! Remove the thought from your mind!" Pitou sulks as a new voice enters the fray, a short, bulky man with wise eyes and a beak nose. In his hands were slips of gray paper, and on his chest was a name tag reading Peggy, finance. Around his neck was a lanyard that held every nerdy button the man could get his hands on. Some like "checkmate for the king," or "like a good friend chimera com is there," and "edgar allen poe before hoes." "I'm glad you're all here, because it's pay day!" Peggy grunts out, and cheers amble around as the man hands out slips, watching them get tucked into pockets and shirts, or ripped open fiercely. "Now for this next trimester we need to cut back on some staff funds, and unfortunately that's the amount of coffee we are buying each week." Zazan gawks as she stares at the man, "you monster!" "Peggy are you insane? We all practically live off coffee," Welfin shoves past Leol and Flutter, grabbing onto Peggy in disgust. "If I'm not able to make a coffee every two hours, I'll die. Straight up. I might as well go on sick leave because I won't be able to function." Cheetu nods his head vigorously, "how do you think I get to be the way I am? You think I'm always energetic! Nah! We need our espressos!" Youpi side eyes the man and mutters under his breath, "he shouldn't be allowed anywhere near caffeine." "You're not the boss of me!" Cheetu yelps, puffing out his chest. Pouf steps between them and lifts the clipboard in front of Cheetus face, "under a general consensus you will be provided only with decaf and you will accept it without complaint! We don't need any more incidents like last year-" Pouf gawks as the words slip out Colt narrows his eyes as he places a hand on Poufs shoulder, "please elaborate." A collective breath moves through the group, almost as if there was the presence of a monster amongst them. Pouf could only cower, hoping someone else would step in so he wouldn't have to. "Rammot," Zazan swirls the name in her mouth and grimaces, "that was the worst month, thank god he gone." "He was a menace," Youpi murmurs, "theft, blackmail, slander, assault..." "And a rude, ugly man to boot." Hina murmurs, shaking a glow stick vigorously. "And the things he would wear around the office should have been enough of a crime to get him arrested!" Leol rubs his chin, “I heard he went to jail for killing a man.” Cheetu nods, “That doesn't surprise me! What a creep! He punched me once!” “He spit in my coffee,” Welfin bares his teeth. Pitou cracks a knuckle, “I was tempted to kill him one time. Try experiment 541 on him.” The Queen blinks back her surprise as a yell breaks the chatter of the group from the other side of the hall. A balky man with pierced eyebrows and long hair runs towards the group, almost at a gallop. Some could say that the man was horse like in his demeanor; although he lacked any grace and came off as a beast (who was into some questionable kinks, the other employees had unfortunately come to learn). Zazan and Cheetu grimace and step against the walls, knowing that the man with the snake tongue, Yunju, was bound to make a messy entrance. In his hands he carried a large box, his two assistants (both thin and lean, sticking to Yunju as if they were mosquitoes) carried their own boxes. Now Pouf wasn't sure what Yunju did. He was...usually just there, with his vulgar mouth and that damn split tongue, which was pierced seeing how it made a clink as it touched his teeth as he spoke. Part of Pouf wanted to say that Yunju had been hired to be a health rep, although it seemed like hell of a mistake on their hiring department if they did that. Perhaps Yunju was the hiring department. What a nightmare. "Nyaa, the chief of privacy," Pitou whines, looking at Youpi, who technically was the chief of security but never used the title, meaning he and Yunji should have been partners at least. It never happened. Pouf pales, shocked that he had forgotten that this monster of a man was responsible for all their personal issues and privacy, especially from having their identities safe from being revealed online. Anti technology protesters had been getting more violent with each year "Got the stuff!" Yunju smirks, spotting Colt, a new face in the crowd, "and a catch." Colt gives him a piercing glare, not interested in the man's advances. Leol and Hina hoot and holler as they leap towards the box, only to have Youpi intervene. Only now did it come to everyone's realization that they had been chatting and yelling in front of a large oak door, the only in a long hallway. No one could remember when the tile floors had become carpet, or when the lights had become tinted red, or that it was silent in this sector. Candles and roses sit on their perches, and a glass tank the size of the wall sits opposite to the door, delicate but deadly looking fish filling the space. Standing on a stool, with their back turned to the crowd, is Kite. Short, lanky, silent at most times, quietly feeding the fish. Feeling eyes on their back; they which was covered in long red hair which they occasionally dyed white, they peer over to the crowd. Despite taking up the role of gardener, and the actual person in charge of health and safety, Kite was also the third executive of the company. "Mother," Kite says lowly, stepping down from the stool. Pouf had almost forgotten Kite was the Queens adopted child. Behind the large oak doors would be the future CEO of the company, the lead of the entire building. A man who was young, yet notable in his early 20s. He had been a child genius, and eager to learn all from his many tutors. The future ceo was a terrifying and gifted man. As the doors were thrown open, everyone in the hallway held their breath as Meruem appeared, silent, somber, his dark hair covering his forehead, his eyes looking sharp with pointed eyeliner and his purple contacts. “What is the meaning of this noise?” Meruem asks, voice soft and yet almost sultry Pouf hesitates and tries to work up the courage to offer an explanation, a reason, something to ease the heavy, smoggy tension. “We….They...The Queen-” Pouf almost curses himself as tears spring to his eyes. How could he explain the motive behind the horrible staff. Everyone had left their posts! All they did was argue! Or fight! Or try to blow things up! Godawful, good for nothing trouble makers! Everyone here had ruined their own person and the queen had watched it all. Meruem shifts his glance to the queen instead, slightly shocked.”Mother, Pouf did not inform me of your attendance.” Pouf pales at the mention of his name, positive he was going to lose his damn job. “I am sure you know why I came,” the woman says lowly, stepping forward to tower over the short man. “To see how you have run my company. To see your employees and their capabilities. To see if you are willing to inherit the CEO title when you turn 25...and to wish you a happy twenty third birthday.” She smiles, breaking from her facade. Party poppers explode and balloons escape from the box Yunju was carrying. Ikalgo and Meloreon, two delivery boys, ran in with champagne, and cheering radiated through the hallway. Pouf, very quickly realized, this whole thing has been a set up. “Lighten up Pouf! It was fun wasn't it!” Pitou hoots as glasses are passed around as a cake is brought into Meruem’s office. “Happy birthday!” is yelled out, and Meruem feels his face flush as he beams at the gesture. To be so loved by his family and company was a true blessing, Meruem realized, lost in a sea of voices. Despite being thankful, Meruem knew that one day he would have that special someone here with him, to meet his mother and coworkers. But for now, Meruem would enjoy the impromptu party. And Pouf? Pouf would be fine Well, after he stopped crying tears of relief that is.
11360556	Untitled or after the	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Raphael Santiago, Magnus Bane", "Fandom": "Shadowhunters (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by blood bag boogie (evil_bunny_king)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-30T00:00:00", "words": "351", "Additional Tags": "Families of Choice, Pre-Downworlder Council, Pre-soul sword fiasco", "Relationship": "Magnus Bane & Raphael Santiago", "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 }	“Did you ever figure it out?” Magnus asks, before he can leave. Raphael feels the weight of the Warlock’s gaze, focusing with an intensity that belies the lightness of his tone. “Whether you still have a soul?”The question sits between them. Magnus tips his empty glass in his hand, toying with it almost casually, and Raphael watches the play of light against the glass.“I was - naive, to think that it mattered,” he says slowly, at last.It’s an admittance as much as anything: I’ve discovered I do not.“What will come will come. In the meanwhile, there is - existence.”Magnus’ gaze flicks to the cross around his neck, sharp and all too-knowing.“And - duty?” he guesses, and Raphael feels himself give a thin-lipped smile.“Yes. That too.”The warlock nods, expression unreadable. Raphael waits, but Magnus doesn’t say anything more, except- Suddenly he looks more like the sum of his years: like sculpted stone, polished by the passing of time.The vision is there, and then it’s gone. Raphael doesn’t ask after it. Magnus sighs, rolls the wine glass between his thumb and forefinger, and Raphael feels himself released.“Well, do take care, Raphael.” Magnus turns to the pitcher on the side-table, liberally pouring himself another drink. “Visit again soon. Although preferably with less-” he gestures towards the stacks of files he'd brought. Magnus wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Annoying paperwork, next time.”Raphael scoffs, as he’s expected to, and takes the files in hand, careful to leave the coffee table as he found it. “Glad to see you take these negotiations as seriously as ever, Magnus.”Magnus glances back over at him at that, smiling, brief and warm, and then Raphael levers himself to his feet and heads towards the door.As he leaves he hears Magnus call after him, his voice low.“Raphael. I’m glad you found a new family.”His fingers falter on the door handle, and he feels a strange sensation in his chest, the twitch of his heart behind his ribs.He tightens his grip and steps through, pulling the door shut behind him.
11365482	Dim Yellow Lights	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": null, "Characters": "Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung \| V, Kim Seokjin \| Jin, Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster, Min Yoongi \| Suga, Park Jimin (BTS), Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope, OC - Character", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Dreams_of_magnanimity", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-01T00:00:00", "words": "233", "Additional Tags": "Original Character(s), Violence, Possible Character Death, Dimension Travel, Jungkook is fucked, Bromance, Shit goes down, Taehyung is not a living being, Mind Control, Murder, Mystery, Angst, Tragedy, Broken realities, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Suffering, Fluff, Some lame ass comedy, Protect jungkook pls, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Blood and Gore, Thriller, Namjoon Is So Done, Betrayal, Dimensional manipulation, Taehyung is not a God, there is no romance, Emotional Manipulation, Psychological Games", "Relationship": "Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung \| V", "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 }	"Hi stranger! Don't you think the dim yellow lights are the most beautiful thing? They cast shadows almost like a gateway to a broken reality"Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the boy sitting besides him asking the question with a huge smile and a happy glint in his eyes, the packet of skittles he was nibbling on left abandoned on his lap."A broken reality? Wouldn't that mean something like a purgatory, hell or a limbo? A place for supposedly bad souls to be trapped in as punishment or torture?"He saw the boy grin almost robotically and wondered whether he did or didn't see the boy's teeth as sharp as needles for a second. 'Must've been my imagination' "There's no such things as souls, demons or monsters there Jungkookie~ Its a broken reality, everything there is in existence but every second it's non existent!" "How did you know my name is Jungkook?!" Jungkook is a normal guy just trying to make his way through college with good grades and no big problems. Until he finds himself in the hands of something that has no beginning and no end, who wants to take everything Jungkook possessed in his hands including Jungkook himself. Taehyung is hellbent on destroying everything about Jungkook's world and possess his existence no matter how many times Taehyung has to rip piece by piece of Jungkook's sanity away
11387805	Hard to be Cool	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Prince, Roman, Anxiety - Character, Logan, Logic - Character, Patton/Pat, Morality - Character, Thomas Sanders - Character", "Fandom": "Video Blogging RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by XxXxAmerican_PsychoxX", "chapters": "3/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "3,091", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Prinxiety, Logicality, Prince/Anxiety, Logic/Morality", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Whatever..." Anxiety mumbled, rolling his eyes and going to his room."Anxiety, don't go and hide! We have pizza!" Patton called. It was a moment before Anxiety popped around the corner, smiling a little. "Did someone say pizza?" Roman rolled his eyes and ate, on his phone. He was grumpy today. Logan chuckled, "Come and eat with us. You can't be eating in your room anymore." Anxiety gasped, being dramatic, "What? Why?" He whined, grabbing three slices of pizza. "Because when Morality and I cleaned your room there was plates, forks, you name it. Plus, there were moldy pizza crusts stuffed under your mattress."Prince made a face, "Disgusting." He said. Anxiety rolled his eyes, "Oh, I'm sorry your royal pain-in-the-a--" "LET'S eat shall we?" Pat interrupted, smiling at them. "...fine." Prince mumbled. He felt different recently...every time he looked at Anxiety he felt..fluttery. He was grumpy because he wasn't sleeping well due to the thought of what his feelings could be. He finished and stood up, right at the same time as Anxiety who looked at him and stuck his tongue out. Roman grumbled, doing it back. Logan and Patton just looked at each other and rolled their eyes at them. This was normal for them.Anxiety laughed and flipped Roman off before running off with Roman right on his heels. There was some thudding, yelling, and crashing. Patton chuckled, "You two okay?" He called. "Yeah!" They said, both sounding in pain. Roman pushed himself up and brushed his shirt off. Anxiety got up, "You would think that you would know not to tackle someone when they are going up the stairs." Anxiety sassed. Roman sassed and rolled his eyes, "Not my fault you rushed up the stairs." He said. Anx rolled his eyes, flipping Roman off while going up to his room.Roman put his hand where his heart was, feeling it thump hard. He knew what he was feeling, but he was in denial. He was also thinking about whatever Anxiety had open on his phone. The window was orange and the page was black. It almost looked like a story app... He hummed and went to his room to search for the orange app. He knew it started with a 'W'. ((So,,,, ya guys like it????)) ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After a while of searching, Roman gave up and sighed. He laid on his bed, looking up at his ceiling. He was bored.Do you love Anxiety? His brain began to ponder the idea.He shook his head, "No, that would be..." His eyes went wide and he began to think more about Anxiety. Each time he felt warm and fuzzy. He blushed, sitting up. "Do...Do I love Anxiety?" He asked himself quietly. "What?!" Morality asked, popping into Roman's room with a huge smile. Roman screeched and threw a pillow at Patton, putting a hand on his chest. "DON'T DO THAT!" He yelled. Mo closed the door and smiled, "Are you thinking you are in love with Anxiety?" He asked softly, fangirling at the moment. "No, why would I say such a thing?! I don't love Anxiety, he's...Anxiety!" He said."Lying to yourself will get you nowhere in life..." Morality said. Roman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Why are you even here, Patton?" He asked. "Weeeell, dinner is ready!" He said happily. "Alright, I'll be down in a bit..." He said.Pat nodded and begun to head out, "Oh, Roman?" "Yeah?" He smiled, "Just take time to think about how you feel. Think about why you feel that way." He said, leaving and closing the door behind him. Roman blushed. He knew Morality was right, just this once, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to accept his feelings. They were opposites. There was no way Anxiety felt the same way about him. --- Anxiety turned bright red under his foundation, biting his lip softly. He wanted to kiss Roman so badly...just looking at him made him weak. Roman smirked and leaned forward, lifting Anxiety's chin and kissing him passionately. Anxiety felt a rush of...something, he didn't know what, through every inch of his body. He shivered and took a deep breath when they pulled apart, "R-Roman...I--" Roman just shushed him and began to kiss his neck softly, nipping on all the sweet spots. Anxiety whimpered softly, "R-Ro, ah~..." He bit his lip to hide the embarrassing sounds, feeling Roman's hand slide up his shirt slowly. He covered his mouth, moaning behind his hand while Roman smirked and pulled off Anxiety's clothes, leaving him shirtless. "N-No fair, you haven't taken anything off..." Anx whined, blushing more. Roman smirked more and sat up, pulling off his shirt. Anxiety's mouth practically watered at the sight. Although they looked the same, Roman's build was...just a little bit stronger then Anxiety's was. Anx shivered, panting more, "R-Roman, please..." He begged, making Roman chuckle, "So impatient, baby...~" He teased, kneeling in front of Anxiety, who was laying on the bed, and wrapping his fingers on the waistband of his shorts and slowly starting to pull them down. Anx gasped when his cock sprung from it's confines, the cold air making him shiver more. Princey chuckled, kissing Anxiety's thighs, biting them softly. He licked up his cock, making Anxiety moan and grip the sheets roughly. "O-Oh, please~... " Anxiety begged, arching up. Roman bit his lip, sucking Anxiety down eagerly. Anxiety moaned, trying so hard to be quiet. It just felt so good. He gripped Roman's hair, whining and moaning while his toes curled and stretched. He didn't want to cum just from Roman sucking him off, though, he wanted him to actually fuck him. "R-Ro, please, please~...ah, please fuck me~..." He begged, blushing at his own words. Roman smirked, pulling off of Anxiety and grabbing the bottle of lube. He chuckled, "You want prep?" He asked. Anxiety shook his head, "I'm...I'm stretched from this morning when I was in the shower...just please hurry..." He begged. Roman nodded and stripped, lubing himself up slowly just to tease Anxiety. Anx whined, panting at the sight. He hand't been this turned on in a while. Roman pressed Anx back, making him lay down and crawling on top of him, "You're sure about this?" He asked, smiling softly. Anxiety nodded quickly, moaning and biting his lip. Roman nodded and kissed him, pressing in slowly. They both moaned in the kiss, Anx clinging to Roman for dear life. He panted and moaned once he felt him all the way in. He shivered, "M-Move, please..." He begged softly, eyes wide and innocent looking. Roman started to thrust, making Anxiety moan loudly. He gasped and clung to Roman, toes curling more. "R-Roman, oh fuck~ Harder, f-faster!~" He begged. Roman did as he asked, moaning softly against his neck. The room was filled with moans and pants, the slight sound of skin slapping against skin heard as well. Roman kissed Anxiety's shoulder and neck softly, shivering slightly. "Anx, I'm-" Roman was cut off by a moan, "M-Me too, oh fuck!~" Anx cried, arching up. "Together..." Roman said, smiling at Anxiety and grabbing his hand. Anxiety squeezed back and nodded, holding back for Roman. "I'm gonna--" "Anxiety!" Anxiety groaned at the knock, interrupting his reading. "What?" He snapped. "Din-Din is ready, kiddo! Come down to eat!" Anxiety blushed. He would have just said okay, but...he had a little..'problem' at the moment. "Um...okay. I will be down in a few minutes." He said. He rolled his eyes and sat up. He groaned and zipped up his jacket, using it to hide any evidence of his issue. He would die if someone saw that. He unlocked his door, grabbed his phone, and walked out. He went downstairs and into the kitchen, waving at everyone awkwardly. "Took you long enough..." Roman grumbled. Anxiety just rolled his eyes and scoffed, sitting away from everyone. He was paranoid that if he sat next to someone, they would notice. Plus, he could finish his fanfiction while he ate. Patton passed the plates around and giggled excitedly, "Logan and I made this dinner special because its new and I don't believe any of us have tried it before!" He said happily. Anxiety smiled, "Looks good." He said. Roman had to bite his tongue to keep from saying 'so do you' or 'you too'. He just started eating instead. Anxiety ate, but kept on his phone while he ate. He was beginning to get uncomfortable and slipped his hand in his pocket, ignoring his food for a little bit. He pressed down and sighed softly, suppressing a moan. Roman was the only one to notice, tilting his head a little, "Anxiety, do you not like the food?" He asked. "No, no, I love it. I just can't eat too fast, you remember last time." He said. Roman nodded and just sighed softly, finishing his food. Logan, Roman, and Patton all started talking. The more Anxiety read the harder he got. He could picture Roman doing those things to him and just the thought made him want to moan. "Are you sure you're okay, Kiddo?" Patton asked, "You look a little red." Anxiety blushed more and swallowed nervously. Their eyes were on him now. "I'm fine, honest. Just, uh...a little tired." He said, taking his hand out of his pocket and eating. He just didn't want anyone to get suspicious. He finished his food quickly, "I'm gonna head to bed...um. Dinner was great." He said before going back to his room. He walked in and groaned, finally able to relieve some of the pressure. He palmed himself through his jeans and sighed, arching a little. He couldn't help but imagine the stories...Roman... He moaned softly, pulling off his jacket and going to his bed. He laid down and bit his lip, sliding his pants and boxers down his hips. He grabbed the bottle of lube, popping it open and leaning back while closing his eyes... Roman yawned, "I'm heading to bed. I need my beauty sleep." He said, getting up and stretching. He popped his neck and smiled, "Goodnight, you two. Don't get too loud with whatever you do." He teased, making Logan blush and grumble. Pat smiled, "Nighty night!" He called. Roman just chuckled and went upstairs, stopping when he heard what sounded like a whimper from Anxiety's room. His door was cracked, which was unusual. He peeked through the crack and turned bright red, grabbing his phone. Anxiety was moaning and whining softly, edging and teasing himself. Roman started to record it for his own personal uses. He swallowed and watched, licking his lips. Anxiety was almost there. He was close and it was noticeable. Anxiety panted and whined, arching up a little and moaning louder. "O-Oh, ffff-mmm~..." He moaned. His toes curled and his body tensed, "O-Oh god...ah, R-Roman...!" He cried quietly, gasping and shaking, cumming on his stomach. Roman stopped recording and rushed to his room to take care of his own issue while Anxiety cleaned himself up. He went to get on boxers and turned even more red when he realized his door was partially open. He peeked out, seeing no one out there. He sighed in relief and closed his door, making sure to lock it this time.He laid back down and started to read the story, smiling at the cute parts. Roman was pacing in his room, unable to sleep now. He couldn't believe that...Anxiety moaned his name! Was he supposed to talk to him about it? Ask him? Do nothing?!He groaned and flopped down, grabbing his headphones and playing the video for himself... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Thomas wasn't the only one noticing a difference between Princey and Anxiety. They were still bickering, but...it was almost like they were flirting while doing it. It had been a few days since Roman recorded Anxiety moaning his name. He got paranoid and locked his phone with a code,Logan had tried to say that they were being friendlier then before, but they both ended up getting flustered and flipping them all off before ignoring everyone. Patton had just about enough of it, going to Anxiety's room. He knocked and waited patiently, "Anxiety, open the door!" He said in a stern fatherly voice. "Hold on!" Anxiety said, going and opening up. "Yeah?" Pat grabbed the collar of his shirt, getting Roman too. He sat them on the couch next to one another."You two will sit here and discuss whatever is going on with you both recently. If you try to go back to your room, you will be grounded from your phones for 2 weeks." He said, "Understood?" They both nodded. Morality was the one who knew about their feelings for one another. Although it was cute, their bickering and nonstop harassment of one another was getting annoying. Morality locked them in the movie/game room. Anxiety and Roman were both extremely uncomfortable. Anxiety sat back were Roman couldn't see the story and went back to reading. Roman put on a Disney movie, just so there was some noise. Anxiety stood up, letting his phone drop down on the couch. "I'll be in the bathroom." He said, leaving quickly. Roman just hummed and looked over at Anx's phone. He wanted to look, but that was a violation of Anxiety's privacy. He pushed the feeling aside and picked his unlocked phone up, reading the content. He blushed when he realized that Anxiety was reading stories...about them!He smirked, hearing the toilet flush. He stood up, smirking and holding Anxiety's phone, the screen facing the emo persona. Anxiety looked up and his eyes went wide, face going paler then it was. "P-Put my phone down!" He yelled. Prince chuckled, "Fanfiction? Really? Not only that, fanfiction about us..." He teased. "Sh-Shut up!" Anx stuttered. "If I were to guess, I'd say you have a little...crush on me.""As if, give it back!" Anxiety scoffed, reaching for his phone. Prince held it away from his grasp, laughing a little the more frustrated Anxiety got. The 'emo nightmare', as Prince called him, growled and tackled Prince down, straddling his hips and taking his phone. "Haha!" He said in success. Roman smirked and raised an eyebrow at Anxiety, "If you wanted on top of me, you could have asked nicely...~" He said. Anx turned red, "Shut up!" He whined. "Anxiety...do you, ya know, like me in that...regard...?" He asked. Anxiety wanted to tell him the truth, but he couldn't say anything. He just looked at him and blushed."I'm guessing that's a yes..." Prince chuckled. "W-Well...what about you? Do-Do you l-like me that way t-too?" He stuttered. Prince smiled, "I have for about a week now..." He said.Anxiety did something..crazy for him. He leaned down and kissed Roman, holding the sides of his face. Roman hummed and kissed back, holding Anxiety's sides. They just moved their lips against one another's, feeling...something right. Whatever they felt, it was right."AWWW!!!" They jumped apart, Anxiety falling back and on his butt. They were blushing and looking at Morality, Thomas, and Logic. Morality and Thomas were fangirling in the doorway and Logic was smirking a little. "I understand now. You two are in love." Anxiety turned brighter red, covering his face and flopping down. Roman glared, irritated that they disrupted them. "S-So...?" He stuttered, straightening himself up."It's cute!!!~" Thomas and Patton squealed. Anxiety was getting more embarrassed the more they went on. "Okay, okay, now begone." Prince said, chasing them out. He closed the door and heard a click, panicking for a second. "H-Hey! Did you lock us in here again?!" He yelled. There was shared laughter on the other side of the door, making Prince sigh. Anxiety got an idea. An embarrassing idea, but an idea. "Hey, Princey." Roman turned to him, "Yeah?" Anx sat up with a smirk, "Want to get them back?" "How do you propose we do that?" Roman asked. Anxiety got up, strutting over to Roman and putting his hands on his shoulders, biting his lip. "We can pretend to have sex, just to embarrass them back~..." He whispered. Roman turned bright red, "A-Anx...are you serious?" He asked. Anxiety nodded, "I am...besides," He smirked a little, "I'm feeling a little feisty~..." He purred.Roman purred softly, "I don't know...I might get, ya know...hard." He said, mumbling the last part. He was all blushy and shy, which Anxiety found cute. He chuckled softly, kissing him, "Well...we can still..do things. Just not go that far." He said. He was nervous, it was obvious. Roman chuckled softly, "I know you are agitated with them for embarrassing us, but...maybe we shouldn't do this now. You are nervous." Anxiety smiled awkwardly, "That obvious?" "Well, when you spend time observing someone you notice their tells."Anxiety blushed more, biting his lip. He looked down, "You dork.." He said. Prince chuckled and kissed him, "So, will you ever let me read one of those stories...?" He asked with a smirk. Anxiety chuckled, "Wanna hear something silly?" Roman nodded, "Of course." "Well...last night, before dinner, I was reading some...dirty fanfiction about you and me. I was hard and that's why I was acting weird." Prince blushed, "Can I admit something silly?" He asked. Anxiety nodded. "When you went up to your room, I finished and went to my room, but I heard whimpers from your room and your door was cracked. I was worried you were hurt, but...I watched. I even recorded it for my own pleasure, because you moaned my name." Anxiety turned bright red, "Y-You saw me?" He asked softly. Roman nodded, "I did..." "And..." Anxiety licked his lips, "And you pleasured yourself to it?" Roman nodded and blushed. Anxiety swallowed, pulling his jacket down over his front. "W-Wow..." He panted. Roman blushed, "You can..take care of that in the restroom if you wish." He said. It was definitely awkward in the room right now. "I-I..." He couldn't, knowing Roman would hear. Prince was hard too, but he was also too shy to do anything. "You know what, why don't we cuddle and watch a movie?" He asked. Anx nodded and smiled, getting a blanket for them. Maybe this day wouldn't be so bad after all... ((So,,, this is turning into a smut story oops. Not what I originally wanted. I might delete it if it isn't popular...idk))
11333274	Breaking and Entering	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Dadan (One Piece), Sabo (One Piece)", "Fandom": "One Piece", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-28T00:00:00", "words": "805", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law, Dadan & Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace & Sabo, Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace & Sabo", "Series": "ASL Adventures in Modern Times", "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 }	It's midnight, a few hours past when the old hag told him to be home.So what? It wasn't like he was out annoying Smokey. He was only out with Marco and Thatch because Sabo decided to be a huge buzzkill by studying for their exams tomorrow with Koala at the library.Dork.After almost managing to break one of his fingers trying to pry open the living room window, the teen swears."Dammit!"With a sweeping glance, it's not long before Ace's eyes land on his baby brother's window and a smirk graces his features.Quickly but quietly, Ace maneuvers himself below his brother's window—his footing accidently catching on a nearby flowerpot that the hag's going to grumble about tomorrow—deftly hefting himself up and pushing open the window with a grin.Across the street, their neighbor, which everyone in the neighborhood calls 'Mayor', flicks on his kitchen light, huffing as he spies the teenage delinquent trying to break into his own home, before turning off the light and padding back to bed with a few grumbles.The inside of the room is dark, understandably, and as expected the roar known as his brother's snoring is also present. Everything is mostly normal… except then there's a soft scuffling sound.Ace frowns, turning sharply to the side, coming face to face with a lifted chair—a chair that's usually under his brother's desk used for holding snacks—that's now being poised threateningly above his head."Wh—"Two golden eyes, with dark bags present underneath, are looking back at the freckled teen, seemingly just as surprised before blinking at him, and slowly lowering the chair back to the floor. "You must be Ace.""Wha—who the fuck are you!?" Ace's jaw drops. Off to the side, Luffy starts mumbling something about meat, Ace's attention is momentarily drawn away, but then snoring starts back up again. The angry teen's focus snaps back to the stranger in front of him. "And why the fuck are you in my brother's room!?""Law Trafalgar," the bastard actually has the nerve to grin, Ace can feel his eye starting to twitch, "your brother's boyfriend."Red seems to be a good color, and he's surely seeing a lot of it right now, but damn, is it going to suck when Pops has to bail him out of jail for murder. Or at least attempted murder, Ace thinks grumpily.Looking around, suddenly the sight of his brothers shorts and boxers—casually thrown off the side of the bed—Is answer enough about what Pops is going to have to bail him out over."You sonofa—!" Ace practically growls."Hmm." Luffy stirs sluggishly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a frown. "What are you—" his dark eyes fall on 'Law-about-to-die Trafalgar', and a dreamy smile graces his features."Torao! You met Ace?"There's an undeniable glint in those hawk-like eyes as the cocky grin continues to spread across the older—holy fuck, is that facial hair?! He can't even grow facial hair!—man's face. His expression slightly softens as he glances at Lu with what appears to be fondness.Probably a trick of the lighting."Luffy-ya.""Fuckin—hello!?" Ace shouts, trying to piece together how the hell he missed this. And what the hell does the hag do all day? Sure, she yells at him for coming home late, but she lets a fucking pedophile into his baby brother's room without a care in the world. Wait… does she even know that this creep is in here?! And where the hell is Sabo!?"Oh. Sorry, Ace!" Luffy laughs, sitting up, revealing more and more of his bare chest as the blanket droops lower and lower."A-Are you kidding me!?" in a rush of limbs, Ace is pulling the blanket up to the idiot's chin, refusing to acknowledge the discarded pile of clothes that say he's already a bit too late to try hiding his brothers body, or innocence.That fucking bastard!"I'm gonna kill you!" Ace prepares to lunge again, uncaring of Luffy's pout and Trafalgar's bored demeanor at the action. But before he can, a booming voice is coming from down the hall."No one's killin' anybody in this house," Dadan's voice echoes, then adds, seemingly as an afterthought, "too much evidence.""But—!" Ace Portgas does not whine, dammit, despite what the hag, Sabo, Marco, Thatch, and Pops say!"I don't wanna hear it! Your brother's nineteen—legal—which means he's an adult." The sound of a bed creaking follows, as if the hag's trying to get comfortable, "By the way, why the hell are you home so late!?""What!?" Ace exclaims, his face flushed."You—you hag!"Down the hall, Sabo groans from inside his own room, covering his face with his pillow.They need to get their own apartment.
11375871	Sun and Stupidity	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Bill Murray (Sherlock), John Watson", "Fandom": "Sherlock (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by TheWhiteLily", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-02T00:00:00", "words": "861", "Additional Tags": "John is injured, Afghanistan", "Relationship": "Bill Murray & John Watson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2017", "Collections": "Watson's Woes JWP Collection: 2017", "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 }	“Damn,” said Captain Watson, up on his knees, his eyes focused intently across the low wall towards the other side of the compound. “Looks like Peters has been hit.”Lance Corporal Bill Murray swore. There was no such thing as an ordinary day in Afghanistan and an ambush on the side of a road that was supposed to be a safe was barely a surprise—but a teenager like Peters getting hit on his first day off the base was a bad break anywhere.“Bad?” asked Bill, passing John the medical kit to free his rifle arm. Not that John was any slouch on the range, but he was meant to be hunkering down out of the line of fire until the fighting died down. The Army didn’t have enough doctors to risk them without reason. And Bill’s job was protecting him, at least as much as anyone could protect an officer who thought he could protect himself. “No one’s called.”“Couldn’t see,” said John shortly, shouldering the bag and checking his own firearm. “Went down clutching the thigh, could be time-critical. Ready?”“Sir,” said Bill, crouched behind him. They'd have drinks and play poker as usual tonight, when they were both off shift, but for now, it was business time.“Go.”They ran, crouched low behind the stone wall the others were using for shelter, behind the line of firing men, behind the clouds of dust until a loud stutter of fire came that made Bill drop to the ground, motioning for John to do the same—too late.Bill stared at his friend, pale-faced and developing a quick-spreading bloodstain on his shirtfront, and crawled over to him. At least they had cover behind the wall here.“Medic!” he shouted to the others.Pressure, he remembered that much from the first aid course John had run for them all on base when he’d arrived, refreshed them on again every year since. He rolled John onto his back and put his hands against the flow of blood, leaning on with his weight and making John moan in deep-sounding agony.“Lieutenant Andrews!" Bill yelled again. "We need a medic here now!”“Where’s Captain Watson?” came back Andrews’ voice, followed by another exchange of gunfire.“He’s the one down!” shouted back Bill. “Looks bad, sir!”“Shit,” said Andrews fervently. “All right, stand by, I’ll radio for backup. We need to clear this lot out.”John’s eyes were closed when Bill looked back at him.“Oh no you don’t,” said Bill, leaning more of his bodyweight onto him and earning another moan. “John, John, tell me what to do?”“Already doing it,” John gritted out, but at least opened his eyes. “A plus, my best student. Pressure’s about all you can do for a shoulder til I’m in theatre. Could have some plasma in the truck, depending how much I’m losing. ‘F it’s nicked the subclavian, might as well save it for someone who'll give it more mileage.”“Oh, very comforting,” jibed Bill. “Isn’t bedside manner meant to be your job, Doctor?”“My job’s meant to be Peters,” whispered John, eyes blank and empty looking. “How is he?”Bill took a look at the intent look on John’s face, and then pushed himself up briefly to look, then bobbed back down eyes shut, letting his mind process the split-second image. Peters hadn’t been on the ground in the spot he’d fallen anymore, so it took him a moment to place the face among the others.“Fine,” said Bill, opening his eyes again. “Nothing wrong with his leg. Must’ve just tripped and fallen arse over tit, you stupid idiot.”“Stupid idiot, sir,” whispered John, going limp with relief at the news, and making Bill press harder again to keep him conscious.“Thought I’d already said that,” returned Bill. “Practically the same thing.”He glanced up as the field fell abruptly silent; the last of the insurgents apparently having been taken out. A section was creeping around the side to flush the rear and make certain no one was just waiting for their chance. Lieutenant Andrews was still yelling into the radio—no help there for a while.“Peters, Caldwell!” Bill called, waving to a particular pair of unoccupied enlisted men. “Grab a stretcher. We’re going to transfer the Captain. He needs to get to base hospital ASAP. Stay low, all right?”“Yessir!” the young men chorused in unison and ran for the truck, bent almost double.Bill turned back to John’s white face, keeping the pressure on.“Just hold on, all right, John?” he demanded. “Two minutes, then you’ll be in the truck. You don’t want to die and leave me in charge of the ward, do you?”“Please, God,” muttered John, and coughed a breathless laugh that rocked Bill’s firmly-pressed hands in a way that felt noticeably different from the earlier sob. “Let me live.”“Don't blame me that my first aid's bollocks, sir,” grinned Bill in relief. Beside him, the two young Privates arrived at a crouch and set out the stretcher. “I had a lousy teacher.”The base wasn’t far, and backup or no backup, he wasn’t going to let John die.
11339439	A New Life in a Town of	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Jack Skellington, Sally, Lock, Shock - Character, Barrel, Oogie Boogie, Random Citizens, OC - Character", "Fandom": "The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by TooSpoopyForMe", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-28T00:00:00", "words": "14,837", "Additional Tags": "Adventure, Violence, Original Character - Freeform, just a small warning of molestation, Like super small a one part in like ch 1", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Sally/Jack Skellington, Barrel/OC, Lock/Shock", "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 }	(Also be warned: abuse and a tiny bit of molestation. When I say TINY I mean REALLY TINY so don't worry too much about it. Just know that is there. I'll put a warning before and after where it will happen so you know. It will only be in this chapter unless something changes.) Chapter 1: The Doors “Hey kid! Get your lazy ass out of your room and go pick me up some goddamn dinner!” an angry voice bellowed from the living room. Jumping quickly off her bed, Cassandra slipped on her shoes and her jacket then walked out to the living room. She avoided her father’s gaze that she knew was on her as she walked to the front door. She could hear the football game blasting from the T.V and from what it sounded like, the team her father had bet on was losing, which usually meant a bad night. Please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going huh?!” She froze where she stood with her hand on the door knob. She heard him get off the couch and make his way toward her, a calloused hand grasping her shoulder.“T-to get dinner? Just like you asked,” she replied keeping her eyes on the door. He squeezed her shoulder and leaned forward close enough to already smell the liquor under his breath.“Did I tell you what I fucking wanted yet?! Did I tell you where to go?” he grumbled angrily. She gulped and shook her head.“That’s right! I didn’t! Maybe I should punish you for not tryin’ to listen to me…”“NO NO no!” she screeched desperately recoiling from his touch. “I’ll get you what you want! I promise not to do that again!” Her hand tightened around the door knob, tight enough for her fingers to turn white.“Heh, you better not,” he said as he finally let go and turned to go sit back on the couch. “I want you to go to McDonalds and grab me a couple of burgers. Make sure they don’t have pickles!”“Ok dad! I’ll be back soon!” she quickly said before speeding out the door and down the road towards the restaurant. An icy wind blew her long black hair into her face and sent goosebumps up her arms. She swiped the strands of hair away from her eyes to see angry black clouds in the distance. They seemed to be coming from the direction of the forest, which was down the way from her apartment complex. The setting sun made them look scary and the distant sound of thunder wasn’t helping. She picked up her pace to get the food before the storm could come.That was a close one Cass, she thought to herself. Let’s avoid that next time. Let’s try to avoid this storm too. McDonalds again huh? I should have guessed. It seems to be all we eat lately. Maybe it will be all we eat in the next few weeks since it looks like my dad’s gonna lose that gambling bet he made on that team. What was he thinking!?She sighed at her thoughts as she entered the fast food establishment. The smell of greasy fries and fake burgers wafted in the air. There was usually the sound of little kids giggling at their new plastic toys from their happy meals or from playing outside in the playground, but today the place looked deserted. Well except the drive through, of course. Must be the weather that’s coming.She had ordered the food quickly and then sat down at a booth to wait. While staring out of the window, she noticed the sun was almost set beneath the horizon. The world outside kept in twilight until finally it would disappear. She looked down at her hands that were resting on the table and stared at the bracelet around her wrist. Black and orange skull-shaped beads hung from a thin, worn out string. A big silver pumpkin charm in the middle, looked at her with its scary grin and it made her grin right back at it.Mom. When Cassandra was 8 years old, her mother had passed away due to cancer. She was a lovely lady with so much compassion and humor, and she loved the two of them very much. Her favorite holiday was Halloween and Cassandra loved it just as much. As a gift, she gave Cassandra the bracelet to remember her by, as she had a matching pair. When she died, however, things had changed dramatically.It has been tough on her little family of two since then. Her father plunged into a depression and drank himself away every night. His anger issues had gotten more and more frequent until he was always angry. He would take out his pain on her and since they didn’t have much of a family to begin with, no one knew about the abuse he put her through. Makeup was her best friend when she went out.She had bruises on her arms and shoulders from all the times he has grabbed her too tightly. A few cuts and busted lips every now and again may appear. At one point when he was really plastered, things got too physical in the way it shouldn’t have been, but luckily it didn’t go too far. Ever since then, however, she has been too afraid to ever be in the same room as him. Especially now that she was 19 and looks so much like her mother, he seemed to be getting a little too comfortable with her. She had tried the police before a couple years back, but they didn’t believe her since she was young and it made her dad really angry. All she could do is go through this alone with all the bravery she had.Friends were scarce when she was in school. They thought she was too weird, too different to hang around. Sometimes they would pick on her for that. She had graduated high school with no one to celebrate it with, and since her father drank away their money all the time, there wasn’t enough to help pay for college. They barely had enough to live in the small apartment they live in now. She would always try to go find a job, but her dad always made sure she didn’t go anywhere.Even though she went through so much suffering, her pure heart never changed. She was always kind to everyone and she never forgot what love felt like even if it had been so long she had felt it. The one thing that comforted her and reminded her of that love when in really tough times, was the thought of her beautiful mother and an old picture of her in that breathtaking witch costume they had both made together for Halloween when she was 5. At her side was Cassie in a small cat costume holding an orange, plastic pumpkin as they both walked hand in hand down the street. This memory always made her smile as it faded away back into her mind. Please come back. I miss you.She shook herself out of her daze and looked over at the counter where a scrawny teenage boy was placing her bag of food down. He waved her over and she took the food with a quick thank you. She left the restaurant in a hurry, hoping to make it home before the storm and before her dad could get too mad. Luckily she did make it in time. Raindrops were beginning to drizzle down from the sky. She quickly set the food on the table for her father to get and she took a plate of her food back to her room where she could be away from her father.Just as she was about to take off her shoes, his voice boomed her name from the kitchen. Aw man! What did I do? She hesitantly made her way to the kitchen to find him looking at his burgers in disgust.“Yes dad?” she squeaked. His beady eyes looked up at her angrily. She could smell the liquor from where she stood now. He was extra drunk tonight.“What the fuck did I say to you, you little bitch?!”“A-about what?” He growled as he threw the burger at her, ketchup staining her shirt.“I fucking said ‘Make sure they don’t have pickles’! And what the fuck do you think I find?! Huh!?”“P-p-pickles?” She looked down at her wringing hands in fear.“That’s right! I guess since you don’t every fucking listen to me, I’m going to have to punish you!” he said as he began to unbuckle his belt. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him pleadingly.“NO DAD! I SWEAR I TOLD THEM NO PICKLES! I SWEAR I DID!!! PLEASE GOD DON’T HURT ME!!! NOT AGAIN!” she screamed as she ran to her bedroom. She had luckily made it in time to lock the door. He pounded at the door and roared for her to open it. With tears streaming down her face, she backed away from the door with hands over her ears. The thunder boomed outside and the rain was pouring down on the roof and against her window. The wind howled against the trees out her window. Everything was so loud and the fear in her had exploded. She sat on her bed sobbing, praying he would tire himself out like last time.She looked down at her hands to see the faded bruises of past touches and the bracelet hanging from her wrist. Mom! Help me! She shut her eyes tightly as the door was still being shaken from the other side. Her mother’s memory giving her some comfort. What did I do to deserve this?! What did she do? She couldn’t recall ever doing anything bad! Suddenly a memory of a school presentation based on abusive relationships appeared in her head. She remembered the things they said about how the victims feel and why they usually stay. Frankly, she always thought it was her fault for him being this way. That she didn’t make him happy enough and that she deserved the punishments. With that thought, her eyes snapped open in realization. It was never her fault! She didn’t deserve any of this! She even felt kind of stupid for even thinking those things. Now that she was 19 years old, she can leave and be free!“I’m leaving,” she whispered to herself. She flashes across her room to her closet where she grabbed her old gym bag. The insignia was of an old martial arts class she had taken a long time ago as a kid. That’s right! I…I know how to fight back!!! She had gotten very far in her classes until she had to stop because of her mother’s death. She never used any moves because she couldn’t hurt the only family she had. Over time she had forgotten a big portion of her moves, but she knows they have been burned into her conscious for times like this. All she was, was a little rusty.Bouncing around her room, she filled her bag with as many of her things she had. In an old shoebox was a small wad of cash she hid for a possible moment like this since this isn’t the only time she thought of running away. She put a few memorable things, like photographs along with a book for entertainment. The last thing she put was the food she hadn’t eaten yet. Just as she zipped up her bag, the door burst open, slamming into the wall. Her heart stopped as she turned to see her hot-headed father standing in the door way holding a hammer. He had made a hole in the door to reach the door knob. He let it slip from his fingers, letting it hit the ground with a thud.He swayed a little before stumbling into her room and reaching his arms out for her. She was backed into the bed, fear creeping into her heart. He ran at her and his hands wrapped around her neck and they squeezed.“YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME YOU LITTLE WHORE!” he roared in her face. The lack of air made her thoughts foggy as she tried hitting his chest for him to let go. He only squeezed harder and pinned her to the bed. “BUT NOW, NOW YOU’LL LISTEN!! YOU ARE NEVER GONNA LEAVE! YOU BELONG TO ME!!!” (Trigger alert) “L-et g-o” she wheezed. She felt one hand let go, but it only travelled down her body. OH GOD NO! IT’S JUST LIKE LAST TIME! He unbuttoned her black jeans and reached his hand in. She felt absolutely disgusted and tried wriggling out of his grip. He chuckled darkly to himself as he watched her wriggle like a worm. When she turned her head, her eyes caught sight of her bag laying on the floor waiting for her. The anger in her flared and she remembered what she needed to do! (OK you’re good.) “I DON’T BELONG TO YOU!” she growled between clenched teeth.With free hand, she grabbed one of his fingers from her neck and pulled it back the opposite way then the other fingers were pointed. She stopped when she heard a crack and he pulled his hand away, holding it to his chest while howling in pain. While he was distracted, she scooted back and bent her right foot to her chest.“I NEVER BELONGED TO YOU!!!!” When he looked her in the eyes, she pushed her foot forward with all her might, kicking him square in the face. He stumbled back and fell to the ground holding his now broken nose. She quickly fixed herself, grabbed her bag and tried to make her way to the door, but her dad was in the way kneeling on floor. He was looking at her with crazy eyes, and veins popping out on his forehead.“YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!!!! DO YOU HEAR ME!!!?” he fumed. Her whole demeanor changed when he looked at her, however. Her eyes were filled with disgust and pity. Her eyebrows scrunched up in anger and her hands were balled in fists. It was obvious she wasn’t the scared, frail little girl he once knew anymore.“I AM OLD ENOUGH TO MAKE MY OWN CHOICES AND I AM DONE WITH PUTTING UP WITH YOUR BULLSHIT!!!! I HAVE LIVED MY MISERABLE LIFE WITH YOU, A PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A FATHER AND I AM DONE! DONE!!! DO YOU HEAR ME!?!” she screamed at him. He wobbly stood up and shook his head.“No…NO!!!” He wanted the power back. He wanted the power over her back.She grit her teeth. “I’m sorry dad, but I am leaving! And I AM NOT COMING BACK!” With that said, he tried run at her again she held her stance strongly and pulled back her fist. When he got close enough, she released her hand hitting him right in the jaw with a loud crack. His body turned from the force, and he hit the wall behind him hard where finally, he slid to the floor unconscious. When he was down, she almost woke up from a trance and gasped at the work she did.“Whoa!” she whispered, amazed for the first time of what she could do. She ran out of the room to the kitchen to grab any food that she could get. With a heavy heart and heavy bag, she ran out of the apartment and out into the storm. Forgetting that it was pouring out, she blindly ran into the dark and into the forest. She knew that if he had stumbled out to find her, that’s the place he wouldn’t dare to go. He didn’t like the forest and he never allowed her to go there.The wind whipped past her fast and the slanted rain soaked her to the bone. The cold night air made her feel numb as lightening flashed and thunder roared. She ran and ran, deeper and deeper past the trees, with hardly any light guiding her. After running into one, she slipped and scraped her hand on the bark and felt a warmth trickle down her fingers, but she ignored it. Her legs burned and her lungs screamed at her to stop, but she kept on going, not fully sure where, but anywhere other than back there. Finally after 10 minutes of running, the adrenaline had escaped her system and she felt too tired to keep going. She slowed to a stop, gasping for breath then fell to her knees in exhaustion. The crash was setting in and after a moment, she fell forward in to the mud and drifted off into a deep sleep. Eyes fluttered open when the soft light of morning shined on the forest. From the looks of it, the sun was barely rising. The first thing Cassandra saw was mud and blades of grass. Lifting her head, she wondered where she was and saw only trees. She sat up feeling sore, dirty, and gross. Her clothes were still soaked and covered in mud. Her hair was a mess and she had a dirty cut on her palm. After a minute of total confusion, a tidal wave of memories helped her remember.She had finally escaped the hell hole she used to call home and now she was deep in the forest trying to get away. She had to start a new life when she would find civilization again, but for now she was going to admire the calm beauty of the forest. She looked in her bag to find her stuff still in good shape and she was about to grab an apple when she something caught her eye.Looking up, she noticed she was sitting in the middle of a circle of trees, but what was odd was each tree had paintings on them and at the foot of the tree was certain objects. Despite the storm that had happened, they looked untouched. Scanning the trees from left to right, she noticed a certain patterns. It was confirmed when she saw the tree with a Christmas tree painted on it. She stood up, wrapped her bag around her shoulders and stared in amazement.“They’re…representing the holidays!” she exclaimed while wiping the mud off of her as best as she could then zipped her bag back up. A heart represents Valentine’s Day, the clover is for St. Patrick’s Day, the Easter egg for Easter, more. “But where is Hallo-“she spun around and stared at a tree with a big orange pumpkin painted at head height on it, “-ween”. Walking closer to it, she noticed the triangular nose was actually popping out of the tree. It almost looked like…“A doorknob?” she questioned aloud as she reached out to touch it. As she took a quick step toward it, the mud beneath her feet made her slip forward causing her to collide with the tree with a strange thud. She pulled away after gaining her footing again and raised an eyebrow. Is this thing hallow? She knocked on the wood and heard the echo inside.“Maybe this is a door,” she said once again reaching for the nose. She turned the squeaky knob and after a couple hard tugs, the pumpkin face swung out and opened like a door. She hesitantly peered inside only to see empty darkness and possibly a long way down. What was also weird about this was a breeze coming from the darkness below her and the fact that there was probably a long way down to begin with. Even though this peaked her curiosity, she was a little frightened, so she pulled away from the door, but never closed it. What is down there? Snap! She whipped her head and turned to look towards the direction of the sound. Her heart stopping at the thought of her dad somehow finding her. Relief washed over as she realized it was just a nearby dear walking in the distance. As she chuckled to herself, the strange breeze from the tree blew stronger and it seemed to wrap around her. Autumn like leaves swirled in the wind around her. Panic overtook her as it almost seemed to carry her and pull her into the opening. She tried desperately to grab the sides of tree to stop her from going inside but to no avail. The wind was too strong!“NO!” she grunted. The wind pulled once more, causing her to trip over the bottom of the door and with a scream she fell into the darkness. The door shutting close behind her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 2: Where Is This?! The darkness seemed like it was never going to end! Cool air rushed past her ears as she twisted and fumbled around in the air till she was in a fetal position, all while clutching her bag to her for dear life. Her heart felt like it was in her throat and it was so dark that she couldn’t see her hands in front of her face or anything below her. How is all this possible! I’m going to die! I don’t want to die, she thought in fear. She had stopped screaming at this point since her throat started hurting and she felt like she was going to go insane in the dark.That is until she felt something small, dry, and thin smack her in the face causing her to shriek. She reached up quickly to grab it and felt it crunch in her hand. Just as she was about to let it go, a soft glow of light appeared beneath her, revealing a dry leaf in her hand. She glanced down to find the source and saw a white dot of light ascending closer. Surveying her surroundings, she saw nothing but darkness and autumn leaves swirling around her in the wind. As the light grew closer, a small wooden sign with Halloween Town written on it slowly rose past her. What is this?! Suddenly the light brightened the world around her and she was blinded for a second. This is the end! Just as fast as it came, the light disappeared and the wind had slowed down significantly. She had a second to get her eyes used to her surroundings before realizing that she wasn’t in darkness anymore or falling for that matter. She was slowly floating down while frozen in her fetal position, a couple feet above a dirt floor with dull sunlight shining down at her through wispy, gray clouds.Am I dead? Am I in heaven? Hesitantly, she stretched a leg down to gently touch the floor, almost to check to see if it was real. When her toe deemed it solid, she fully stepped on the ground and whatever was making her float, shifted her body slowly forward till she was standing upright. She stared up to see where she was falling from, expecting to see the darkness, but only saw a gray, outcast sky. That’s impossible!!! This is all just IMPOSSIBLE!!!“What the hell?! Where…how…I don’t…” she stuttered flabbergasted. Her mind was all over the place with questions. She spun around to look at her surroundings and it only made her more confused. She was standing atop a hill that overlooked a giant graveyard on one side and a bridge that led to a forest on the other. Everything was unfamiliar to any place she knew of on earth. The landscape, including the sky was brown, gray and dead.“Where am I?!” From where she stood, she could see the silhouette of a city in the distance. Maybe I can find some help there! Slowly, she made her way down the hill and toward the graveyard while glancing around cautiously. She brought her hand up to smooth her hair back and away from her face like she always did when, but she pulled it away quickly with a hiss. Looking down at her hand she saw the forgotten dirty scrape from the night before on her palm. She reached into her bag and found a water bottle and a napkin. After she cleaned her cut and had put a band aid on it, she continued walking along the path. She had always kept a box of band aids in her room in case her dad ever got too violent.“T-this is all too weird!” she exclaimed as she continued onto a path through a pumpkin patch. After a couple minutes of almost getting lost, she walked through an iron gate that lead to the massive graveyard. “This place is freaking huge!” she whispered to herself as she passed by dozens of graves and tombstones. She even noticed a few stone mausoleums with horrifying gargoyles crouching over the entrances. Spider webs that draped over them glistened in the sunlight. Rats and spiders would skitter across the floor.She walked across a rickety wooden bridge then through another small iron gate that led to more graves. To her left, she could see a giant twisted dead tree with no leaves in the distance surrounded by more graves. To her right was yet another iron gate with a skull shape on top that seemed to lead towards the town. Some civilization!“This has to be a dream! ...Right?!” She made her way to the gate and was about to walk through it, when she heard a wispy sound. Slowly, she turned around to see a white shape floating in the air. It looked like a dog with a long snout, but made out of blanket. A transparent white dog that was floating in mid-air. A ghost dog. She gasped in surprise and felt frozen to the spot. A ghost?! Shit, what should I do?! The dog turned its head towards her and barked before floating her way. It hovered before her with what seemed like a happy expression. It was hard to tell since it didn’t have a tail, but it looked like it smiled at her. Its black eye sockets just stared at her, waiting for her to acknowledge it. It’s…actually kind of cute. Maybe it won’t hurt me. She reached out hesitantly to pet it and found that she could touch him. She could feel a cool breeze go up her arm as she continued to pet him. He nuzzled his head into her touch and the tip of his nose began to glow. It was orange and it had the face of a pumpkin on it.“G-good puppy,” she said softly. She looked under his head to see a red collar, but no name tag. From the corner of her eye, she could see a small gravestone. It was in the shape of a doghouse with a cross on the top and it had a dogs head in the opening. It was surrounded by a little gate and it read ZERO above the dog head.“I-is your name Zero?” she asked it, not really sure if it could understand her. It barked in response and nodded its head.“You can understand me!” Again it nodded.“Can you help me get out of here?” It barked and floated through the gate and towards the town. It would stop and wait for her if he went too far. She followed him hastily, happy to see the dog was there to help. After walking for 5 minutes, they finally made it to a strange looking gate that was closed between them and the town. The iron bars were sharp and weirdly shaped. A small stone shack resided on the other side of the gate with a small wooden sign that read, Gate Keeper, hanging at the top.Peeking through the bars, she surveyed what she assumed was the town square, but was confused at how empty it was. She walked closer to the gate keepers hut and tried knocking on its wall through the bars.“Hello?! Excuse me! Is anyone there?” she shouted hoping for an answer. When she didn’t receive one, she sighed in frustration. How can I get in? Maybe I can climb over a wall or something. Or maybe I could-. Barking interrupted her train of thought and caught her attention. Zero had poked his head out of the gate and motioned his head for her to follow. She walked over to notice a big gap in the middle. Or we can take the easy way. Her cheeks turned pink in slight embarrassment as she climbed through the gate.In the middle of the town square, there lay a small fountain that spouted out green, sparkly water from a stone beast’s mouth. The architecture of the whole town was odd and gray with spikes, curls, and monster faces. It was something she had never seen before. However odd it may be, there still should have been people walking around, but there was no one in sight. There was one giant building that stood behind the fountain with giant columns and a clock near the top. The clock had a spider web design and a countdown bar that said Days till Halloween. According to the countdown, Halloween was only 10 days away. That’s right! I almost forgot!She stepped up to the fountain and stared at her reflection. EW! I look terrible! She set her bag down and was about to reach in to clean up a little when she heard rocks breaking and the ground shaking. She whipped her head to see a dirty, oddly shaped skeleton standing a few feet away from the fountain.What the hell is that?! It wobbled back and forth almost unsteady then stopped moving when it saw her. It gave a loud roar at her then hunched over and began wobbly walking toward her ready to attack. With a yelp, she stepped back and turned to run, but bumped straight into another skeleton. Eyes widening in fear, she was able to dip out of the way in time as it swiped at the spot she was just standing in.“Help! Someone! Please!” she shouted. She looked around to find anywhere to hide, but didn’t know this town well enough. She also tried to find something to use to defend herself, but all she found was some big chunks of the concrete wall and to her luck a small spear made of a broken iron-gate piece. That will have to do! She quickly ran and grabbed her makeshift weapons. “Bring it on you boney fuckers!” They were pretty slow, but she knew they could sneak up on her if she didn’t pay attention. She charged forward and around them and used their slow speed to her advantage. She got close enough behind one before it turned to plunge the spear through the empty spaces of its body and lodged it to catch onto the bones. She used all of her strength to pull it upward and away onto the ground. She found their bone bodies to be pretty light. While it was still down, she rushed over to its body and used one of the concrete chunks to break the skull into pieces. This proved to be useful as the rest of the body disintegrated into dust.She looked over just in time to see another skeleton spin its body like a top and push her down. She reached for the spear and quickly got up into a crouch just as it was above her. She used that to her advantage and hooked the spear onto its ribs to pull it down with her then used the momentum to kick it off her. She quickly got back on her feet and stabbed the spear into its skull with all her might. Just like the last, it stopped moving and turned to dust, but ended up getting the spear stuck into the ground. With all the fighting happening she didn’t hear more skeletons spawn till she turned and one was close enough for it to swipe at her chest. She barely backed away in time as a claw shred through the cotton on her shirt and left small cuts on her skin.She stumbled back and looked at the damage for a second then looked up in time to see it about to swipe again. She caught its arm in time and held her stance, pulled back her fist, then let it go. It collided with its head, but not enough to damage it only to stun it. If anything she hurt herself, but she fought the numbed pain away. She instead brought her other hand up to join the one clutching the arm, spun around used her body core to flip the skeleton over shoulder and onto the floor. The concrete block she used before was still there, so she grabbed it before the monster could stand up and smashed the skull in like before.She raised her hand to hit one more time until bony fingers grasped her wrist. She whipped her head up to see another even more jagged skeleton holding a weapon that looked like a long bone. This thing was bigger and it looked stronger. It lifted her up as if she didn’t weigh anything then threw her across the courtyard. She hit the ground hard and rolled a couple times across the stone floor. Her bottom lip was stinging and she was probably bleeding somewhere.“Augh! FUCK!” she groaned. She rolled onto her belly to get up, but looked up to see 2 more skeletons like the one that threw her raise their weapon. She rolled away both times they tried to hit her, but was now stuck in a corner by the fountain that she couldn’t escape. She shut her eyes and curled into herself, bringing her hands up to block her head. The expected attack never came however. There was a sound of a gooey whip, a cracking noise, and a thud. She looked up to see a headless skeleton body fallen on the floor in front of her and the other attacker looking over at her savior standing a few feet away. It was another skeleton, but it was different than the other ones.The first thing she noticed was it was extremely tall and thin. His head was more round and white while the others were more jagged and dirty. It was also wearing a black and white pin striped suit with a bat bowtie. There was a green slimy thing wrapped around his wrist and the skull of her enemy in his hand. His hand squished the skull into dust and the body followed suit. As her attacker turned to attack him, the clothed skeleton threw the green slime around his wrist like a whip and began throwing the enemy against the ground till it too broke into pieces. Her savior finally looked over at her, his expression softening from anger to worry as he ran over to her side. She tried getting on her knees, but hissed and noticed she scraped through her pants and on her knees.“Ow! Shit!” she cried out. Her hands were scraped too and she felt some fingers in her right hand were cracked and scratched from that punch earlier. Now that the adrenaline was fading away, the pain was kicking in. Footsteps made their way towards her and a pair of tiny black shoes stood in front of her. She looked up to the giant and gaped at him. He bent over and held out a long arm to offer his hand down to her.“My goodness!!! Are you ok miss?!” he asked worriedly. She looked at his bony hand then back at him. Words failed her in her shock so she stuck to nodding. She took his hand hesitantly then he helped her stand up. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates as she watched him walk over to grab her bag. I must be dreaming…or dead! It’s a walking talking skeleton! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! He strode over and handed her the bag.“I am terribly sorry for all of this miss! I’m afraid you’ve come to Halloween Town at a terrible time!” he exclaimed as she took it. She blinked in confusion at what he said.“I-I’m sorry…where?!” she asked bewildered.“Halloween Town. You do know where you are, don’t you?” he asked arching his brow bone, which should be impossible. Again blinking at his response, she looked around and began chuckling. It sounded too corny and too fake for it to be true.“Oh man! This is great! This- this is all just a dream! A weird dream or hell maybe I’m dead! This was what my brain or god could come up with! I’ll probably wake up any moment now!” she cackled to herself.“But miss, this isn’t a dream. I’m afraid it’s all too real!” Her laughter died down as she realized he was serious. They turned their heads towards the sound of unlocking doors. The doors over at the column building opened slowly and creatures from the likes of nightmares began to spill out into the courtyard. With eyes wide, she watched as a werewolf, a fat clown on a tricycle, a Frankenstein girl, a tree with hanging skeleton men, and so many odd and scary monsters reveal themselves.“Welcome to Halloween Town!” the tall skeleton exclaimed excitedly gesturing to the creatures. I don’t believe this. The blood drained from her face and she felt dizzy. The bag dropped from her grip and her heart was beating rapidly in her chest.“Miss? Are you alright?” Her knees buckled beneath her and darkness swept across her vision. “Miss!” The last thing she saw was the skeleton reaching out to catch her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 3: A New Friend “Mommy I’m scared!” a timid voice whimpered in the darkness. “It’s ok my child. They won’t hurt you! They’re nice monsters!” replied a soft, comforting voice. “T-they are?” “Of course baby. You have to be brave at times like this! Be brave not only for your sake, but for others too ok!” “Ok momma! I will!” The voices echoed away in Cassandra’s head as she stirred awake. A dream? Yeah. It was a dream. In the dream she saw her mother standing on their porch in her witch costume with her familiar smile. A cauldron of candy at her feet. Cassandra started to cry as she tried to hug her, but her mom stopped her. Telling her that the moment wasn’t right yet but it would be soon. Those words spoken right before Cassandra woke up. Teary eyes fluttered open to a black wooden ceiling, the orange setting sun shining through a window on her feet.She sat up slowly, while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Where am I? Augh! I’m dizzy. She was lying on a black velvet vintage lounge chair in what looked like a small living room. The gray and white striped wallpaper was peeling off the wall and there was spider webs strewn across the corners of the ceiling. There were a couple of small lights and hanging portraits on the walls, but she didn’t have the energy to actually look at them.Beneath her feet was black creaky, and dusty floorboards and she could’ve sworn she saw a bug antenna peek out from under the couch, but she chose to ignore it. Next to her was a small black lamp table that held a black spider themed lamp that may not have been a decoration. Across from the chair was a medium sized black coffin coffee table that held her bag and a tall glass of water on top of it. How macabre and if it were any other moment, it would’ve appealed to her. Despite how green it looked, she took the water and chugged it down, feeling a bit better that she did. On the opposite side of her was a door and next to it a set of stairs going down into the floor.“Ow!” she groaned. Her whole body hurt, especially her hand and she looked down to find it bandaged up. She must have broken some bones or something because it didn’t feel like any sprain she ever had. “What happe-?” She looked up at the window on the wall to her right and remembered. The skeletons, the fighting, the…monsters. Carefully, she stood up on sore feet and limped to the window, but the only view she had was of the small dead tree right in front of her, the distant graveyard and part of the city. The other window on the other side only gave the same result. As she was still recalling the events, she could hear a rumbling outside, as if a lot of people were talking right outside the house.The front doorway was down the set of stairs she saw earlier, but upon closer inspection she found it was a very thin door. What could possibly walk through that? How did I get in? How do I get out?! She climbed back up to the couch and looked around in a panic to find another way out. In the corner of the room, there was a black iron spiral staircase, however after striding over to see it, she looked up the staircase and was shocked on how high it was going. Ok. So that’s not going to go outside. She looked over at the door that was across from the chair she was previously laying on, then walked towards it. Above it, she noticed a small window that she was too short to look through. She pulled the door open slowly and found it lead to a small wooden balcony. The voices were louder and as she carefully walked closer to the edge, she could see a giant crowd of monsters talking amongst themselves in excitement.The iron-gate and the tall skeleton man were the only things keeping them from storming inside. They were murmuring their curiosities about the newcomer who was not only alive, but human! The skeleton was trying to calm them down and trying to tell them to go home, but they wanted to see the living girl. A small, round kid with sewn shut eyes noticed her presence and pointed up at her.“There she is!” he shouted in excitement. Everyone looked up at her and starting yelling for her to come down. Taken back and afraid, she backed away and quickly walked back inside. She bit her lip nervously as she closed the door.“What am I going to do?” she whispered to herself. Just as she calmed down a bit, she heard the click of the front doorknob turning. Someone’s coming! She ran back to the chair and grabbed her bag with one hand ready to swing at whoever would come near. The door opened and in walked the skeleton man. His thin body slipped through the thin doorway easily.“Hello?” he called out. He walked up the stairs and stopped when he saw her with the bag in her hands. Wide blue eyes met black eye sockets. “Uh miss…you can calm down now! I won’t hurt you! No one will!” She looked at her bag then at him.“Not until you tell me what the HELL is going on?! Where am I?! Who are you?! How are you moving and talking?!”“Please just-““No! I fall into a door in a tree and I end up here! I get attacked by skeletons and find myself surrounded by monsters!!! This is all just impossible!!!” she shouted. Her body was shaking and her heart was hammering in her chest. He moved his arms in a downward motion to try and calm her down.“It’s going to be ok! Please put the bag down and relax. You’ll only hurt yourself more! I’ll try and answer your questions the best that I can. Now take a deep breath!” he reassured her as he walked closer. She looked at her bag then at him. He seems like he’s telling the truth and doesn’t look like he wants to hurt me. I guess… he did save me too. She took a deep breath in as she let her bag hang at her side before letting it go. She plopped onto the couch with a defeated sigh and rested her face in the one good hand she had. He tilted his head and slowly made his way toward her to sit across from her on the table.“How are you feeling miss?”“Physically or mentally?” she replied shakily while looking up at him. Her broken hand gently reaching up to brush her hair back.“Both preferably.”“Physically not that great, mentally at this point I don’t know! This is all too weird! I mean it’s all kinda cool in its own creepy way, but it’s impossible. I-I have to be dreaming or dead! I mean I’m talking to a skeleton in a suit for Pete’s sake,” she gestures to him.“I am very sorry for the way you are feeling! You must be in some pain and confusion.”“A lot of confusion,” she corrected him. “The pain in my hand is getting there.”“We will get your injuries looked at in no time. You don’t have to be scared, although I’d prefer you were.” Her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.“Why is that?” she asked cautiously.“Scaring people is what I do best! I am the ‘Pumpkin King’ after all!” he exclaimed dramatically with lots of arm movements.“’Pumpkin King’?” His long arms dropped in disappointment.“Wow you really don’t know where you are, do you?”“That’s what I’ve been saying here!” she snaps. After a moment, she sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I promise I’m a lot nicer when I’m not scared.”“It’s quite alright! I understand! You’re in Halloween Town of course! My wonderfully terrifying town! The best place for scares, thrills and chills! Halloween is what we do best and I, the ‘Pumpkin King’ am the best at it all!”“Halloween Town? Like the holiday? I have never heard of this place!”“It looks very much like you’re from a different world. The human world correct?” he asks. She only nods since that made some sense to her. “I think I understand now, but don’t worry everything will be ok! You’re in good hands!”“So scaring is all you do? You don’t hurt anybody do you?”“Of course not! My people and I only love to give a good scare! That and celebrating Halloween!“While that sounds like a blast, when you say, “my people” you mean those monsters out there?”“Yes, but don’t be fooled! They are all so very nice! Maybe a little gossipy, but nice nonetheless! You have nothing to fear, so to speak!” he chuckled. The small pun made her crack a small smile at that and for a moment she forgot the pain. Cassandra is a sucker for puns.“You all sound very nice and a skeleTON of fun,” she joked back. A massive grin spread across the skeleton’s face.“Now that is what I like to hear,” he laughs. After a moment of gaining his composure, he looked a little concerned. “Now back to your injuries. How are they?” She looked down at her hand and tried to bend her fingers. Pain instantly shot through her arm as she hissed and clutched it close to her chest.“I think I broke it, but other than this I’m just a little sore and have a few scrapes,” she grunted.“Oh dear, well I suppose I will take you to see some help once you feel a little better on going outside, but as I can see you’re not ready for that.” She smiled softly at him and he returned it.“Thank you, uh…” she realized she didn’t know her own saviors name.“Oh!” he stands up quickly and turns to her. “My name is Jack! Jack Skellington! I am, as I said before, the Pumpkin King and ruler of Halloween Town!” he exclaimed with a bow.“Oh! Uhhh…” she said in realization that the title was serious and stood up as well. “My name is Cassandra. Uh…your majesty?” She did a small bow in return.“Please! Just call me Jack! I am not like those kind of kings. Think of me as a friend instead.”“A-a friend?” This was new to her. Very new.“Of course! I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends!” he replied while placing a bony hand on her shoulder. She looked down at her wrist to the bracelet with no emotion on her face. Jack noticed something off about this.“Friends.” The moment was interrupted by a low grumble from the pit of her stomach. Her cheeks began to redden in embarrassment. “Sorry. I’m a little hungry.”“When did you last eat?” She blinked as she remembered when that was. She hadn’t eaten much except for a piece of toast yesterday morning. That’s right! She hadn’t eaten her dinner!“Oh man! I haven’t eaten for a while now!” she realized before picking up her bag and going through it. The dinner she had packed was still there and still good. “Do you mind if I eat here?” she asked.“Not at all go ahead!”She sat back down, with him following, and began opening her food. The moment she tore open her food, her hunger took over and she began to devour it in minutes like an animal. Jack’s eye sockets seemed to stretch impossibly wider at the sight. His smile however, never left and his face showed intrigue. She looked over the room then at him mid chew on the last bite of her food.“So, uh, I gotta admit even though you’ve told me where I am, I still don’t think I understand. I’m still very, very,” she swallows,” lost. I’m still not even sure how I got here! I was in the middle of the woods and there was a bunch of trees with doors on them-““Doors? Oh! You mean the holiday doors!” She arched an eyebrow.“You know what I’m talking about?”“Of course. As the King of Halloween, I need to know about them! Frankly, I’m the one that found them. They lead to all the holiday worlds and obviously you opened the one with the Pumpkin.” She nodded with confusion written all over her face as she finished her food. Then watched as he got up and walked over to the spiral staircase in the corner. He waved his hand to beckon her over. “Come up and I’ll show you!”A little hesitantly she stood up, wrapped her bag around her shoulders then followed him up the iron stairs. After about 15 steps, there was a landing leading to a wooden door possibly another floor of the house, but they continued up past it. As they climbed up, Cassandra studied his form in curiosity.“So, is this all magic? Like with all the monsters and you walking? This world for that matter? Where I’m from, you guys are only known as scary story characters and Halloween decorations. Or heck even dead and in the ground.” He looked over his shoulder at her as they neared the top.“Possibly, the witch sisters use magic and this is ‘Halloween’ Town. Although, I have never thought about my people’s existence or my own. Do you ever think about yours?”She was quiet while his words began to sink in. Her chest was heaving by the time they reached the top and she wiped the sweat off her brow. The demon like design of the statue at the top of the staircase welcomed her to his room. Said room was huge with large windows that had iron spirals and swirls across them as a design. They were also on the windows downstairs if she thought about it. There was torn white silk curtains that covered half of them, but all of them had larger red velvet curtains that were tied to the side. In one corner, red curtains are pulled aside to reveal a fireplace with a small rusty bed resting in front of it.A dog bed was placed over by a desk in an opposite corner where papers were strewn across it and a roll-in chalkboard waited alongside a small pedestal with Knick knacks on top of it. On the other side of the room was tall bookcases filled with books and Jack went over to them to climb the ladder that was connected to it. He looked around one of the higher shelfs for a moment before pushing the ladder away to slide to another bookcase.“Aha! Here it is!” he exclaimed triumphantly as he took a dusty red book out. He held it down to her, his long arm reaching her easily as he climbed down. Cassandra took it and found no title, but it had a black stamp of a pumpkin in the corner. “Go ahead and open it! This book has all the knowledge that I know of about the holiday doors and my travels there.”She followed his instructions and opened it to see journal entries that were written by him. The first page showed an illustration of the circle of trees with the same images she had seen before. His recap of how he fell into the Christmas tree door mimicked her same experience. She looked up at him in surprise then back down at the book.“I came here the exact same way, but I thought I had died or something,” she paused and looked back up at him. “I’m not dead, am I?” she asked. He lifted a bony hand and grabbed one of hers to check her pulse.“I’m afraid you’re very much alive, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” he then gestured to the book. “I have been through all the doors and have met all the rulers, each a great world as it is, but none better than my own.” He began walking over to one of the windows and sighed. Cassandra walked over with the book in hand and followed his gaze.“Whoa!” Any fear of this town seemed to disappear at the sight. The twilight sunset had painted the city in a soft light and windows were being lit up one by one in preparation for the night. Monsters have left the outside gate, and were walking around the town leisurely. “It’s so beautiful! It may not be all that colorful, but it has a beauty.”“Thank you. It is, isn’t it? Our land of the terrifying and scary may not be the most as you said colorful, but it’s home.”She turned her head to him to see him still looking out among the city. His face even as a skull was full of pride and love for his world. She could tell he was a caring and good leader. A caring and good friend. Any fear she had with him was gone. He turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.“It’s getting dark out and there is a town meeting tonight. It’s about your stay here and the whole town will be there asking about you. We don’t get many outside visitors. What should I tell them? Are you planning on leaving our town any time soon or would you like to stay and rest up before you make a decision?” The sudden realization that she had to make a choice was slightly over whelming considering she hasn’t made her own choices in years.“Oh I uh…” she bit her lip as she thought. She had woken up in a strange world and was attacked, but everyone seemed so nice, at least for now. Her whole mindset has slightly changed in the confusion, she couldn’t go home now not at least without thinking it through and getting her hand fixed. “Would it be alright if I stayed for a day or two to think things through? I could also use some rest.”Jack’s smile widened as he clasped his hands together. “Of course! You can stay here at my house for the time being, if you’re ok with the downstairs couch.”“That’s fine!”“Great!” he says as he begins walking to the staircase in the middle of the room. “I must be on my way now. Go ahead and read through the book, if you’re still interested. I won’t be gone long! Oh and there’s a washroom downstairs through the door we passed. I’ll be back soon! Make yourself comfortable.” He turned to go down the stairs, when she called for him.“Jack! If you could, can you tell the monsters that I’m sorry for not meeting them or for fainting when I saw them? I don’t know if they took it as some sort of insult or not.”He smiled before nodding then took his leave. From atop his tower, she watched his bony figure leave and disappear amongst the many monsters crowding into the building with the clock at the top. She looks down at the book then back at the staircase. Might as well try and clean myself up a bit. She set the book down on the desk in the corner of the room before walking downstairs to the door of the washroom.She opened the door to find a huge wooden room that resembled the living room, but looked more like a dressing room with a tub in the corner. The room had high vaulted ceilings and near the top on 3 sides of them had dirty glass windows that let the sunshine in if there was any. Along the left side of the wall was a long row of suits and costumes. Jack’s wardrobe perhaps? Most of the suits were the same pinstripe he was just wearing, but there seemed to be more patterns and colors as it went on then after a while there was just straight up Halloween costumes of all kinds. Above the suits was a long shelf that held hatboxes of different sizes and below the suits were countless rows of the same kind of black shoes along with a variety of costume shoes. Halfway to the tub, she noticed the clothes stop and pushed closely together as if to make room for more clothes. Maybe he is intending to buy more?On the right side of the room was more shelf space that held a lot of Halloween props and decorations. This must be some sort of storage for Halloween time too. There was also two black velvet armchairs with a tall lamp and a small table in between them. Possibly for others to judge outfits? I’ve seen people on T.V do that. Straight ahead, where the wall had the biggest window above her, was a decent sized porcelain bathtub with no showerhead but it had white curtains. On the left side of the tub was a tall body mirror and a folded up Victorian style room divider to block anyone from seeing someone who needed privacy. To the right to her surprise, she saw a toilet against the corner with a sink right next to it on the wall.“Why would he need a toilet? He’s dead,” she asked herself. “What am I even saying? He is a walking, talking skeleton! I don’t think drawing the line at using the toilet would be appropriate.” She set her bag down on one of the chairs and walked up to the mirror. Another tall lamp stood beside it, so with a click she turned it on. Her reflection remained the same as the one she looked into hours ago in the town fountain, maybe even worse. Her face was dirtier and scratched with a busted lip to go along with it. Her hair was a tangled, greasy mess with a few stray pebbles hanging along the strands.She walked over to the tub and found the water working, so she started filling it up. In her giant bag of things, she pulled a rolled up towel and a small bag with toiletries in it. She had it in her room in case she need to leave in an emergency, like running away. With the tub filled up, she took a much needed bath and the time to clean any injuries missed. They weren’t all that bad except for her hand. She gave those skeletons a beating and to her that was the most badass thing she has ever done! It was awesome! The water felt like heaven on her body and she almost didn’t want to get out, but decided that it would be best to do so.She carefully got out but left the water in the tub. She dried herself off, freshened herself up then took her dirty clothes and dropped them in the semi soapy water. This was the closest she had to getting them cleaned for now. She went through her bag to find a clean shirt and some sweats, which she happily changed into then dragged the brush she kept in her bag through the bush she called a hair. When that was done, the raven haired girl went to the tub and tried her best to single handedly scrub off mud, dirt, and blood then hung them on the now stretched out room divider to dry. She would have to find some thread to fix up the tears and find a laundry mat somewhere. Finally, when deemed decent enough, she walked back out with her bag and climbed back upstairs.Jack didn’t seem to be back yet, so she grabbed the book from where she left it to read. She set her bag down and decided to sit down. The large velvet desk chair was a nice feel as she began reading the books contents. Turning page after page, she learned about Jack’s understanding of the other holiday worlds. Ink illustrations followed his descriptions about a land covered in snow and happy elves, chubby cherubs flying through the air, and giant colorful eggs strewn across grassy meadows. He even recounts the time he went to her world to deliver presents in the place of Santa Clause. How is it that no one has ever found the trees in my world? Scientists and people all over the world would have flocked to them in a second! How did I find them? According to the book, the doors in this realm lay deep in the forest called the Hinterlands. Would that be the way home? Or would it be one of the graves that Jack has mentioned?Deep in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the front door open and someone trekking up the stairs then almost jumped out of her skin when a hand was placed on her shoulder. Her head whipped over her shoulder to see Jack looking down at her apologetically.“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you, not this time at least. You look a lot better now. Did you wash up?”“It’s alright, and uh, yeah. I really needed it. I also left some clothes hanging on the room divider to dry. I hope you don’t mind.”“Of course not! Make yourself at home,” He looked over her shoulder to see the journal.” Are you enjoying my findings?”Nodding her head, she looks back down at the open pages. “It’s interesting and your experiences are really exciting, but I was wondering? Where is the Hinterlands? Would that be my way out?”“I’m afraid not. I haven’t found a way to get to your world through any of the doors. The only way I suggest is to go through one of the graves.”“I see,” she sighed before standing back up. “Well, I’m pretty exhausted, so I’m going to go to sleep.”“Ah, alright! Here!” He walked over to a chest on the other side of his bed and brought out a pile of blankets and a fluffy pillow. “If you need anything, just come up and wake me,” he says as he hands her the blankets and her bag.She takes it with a smile holds it close. “Thank you Jack. For everything.”Just as she was about to head down the stairs, Jack suddenly calls for her. “Oh wait! Tomorrow, I would like to take you out for lunch and if you’re comfortable enough, a tour of my lovely little town. Would that be alright?”She blinks up at him in surprise. Someone wants to take me out? And it’s voluntary?! “I, uh, sure,” she replied without thinking about it.“Fantastic! I’ll come and get you sometime in the afternoon. I have to leave the house early, so don’t be frightened to see me leaving. You’ll be safe!”“Ok. Uh, goodnight!”“Goodnight! Sweet nightmares!”She made her way downstairs and set up her little bed. From where she was laying, the moonlight was shining through the window onto her feet, casting a blue glow in the room. The stars in the distance were a comfort to see in this different world. The fatigue was finally setting in with the physical and mental exhaustion pushing it faster. Finally comfy, her eyelids drooped and she fell into a deep sleep with a little excitement for the day to come. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 4: Nervous Beginnings Light footsteps were what awoke Cassandra, but not enough to keep her awake. She drifted between consciousness and a dreamless sleep as she watched a very thin man pass the couch she slept on. No, this wasn’t a man. He was too thin, too bony. Bony? No not bony, just bones. That’s right, it’s Jack. He said he would be leaving for work early in the morning. The dim sunlight that shone through the window reflected off his skull as he passed it. Remembering he had a guest, he turned to her and realized her eyes were slightly open in a dreamy gaze. He waved at her with a small smile and got a sleepy one in return. Then he turned back around and walked down the stairs and out the door. Still tired, she quickly fell back asleep for a couple more hours till she awoke to loud knocking and bells ringing …or was that a shrill screaming? The sun was beginning to shine high in the sky, meaning she was going to have to get up anyway. With a groan, she sat up and squinted at the door. Who the hell is making so much noise, she thought sleepily and for a moment forgot where she was. Without thinking, she walked down the set of stairs to the door and opened it. Through the skinny slit of a doorframe, a short, stout man with a cone of a head jumped in surprise. This was the moment, she realized what was happening. “Oh!” they both gasped. After a moment of staring, the man’s head suddenly twisted with a terrible clicking sound to change his current pale white face with a frown to a pink, happy face with a giant smile. “Gah!” She stumbled back and clutched her chest to steady her rapid heart beating. “Oh my god,” she wheezed. “My apologies for frightening you, young lady, I usually wait for October to do that,” he stated happily. Said creature…man-thing, reached up with tiny hands to his tall top hat and took it off revealing a shiny, pointed head. He held the hat to his chest before he did a small bow. “Good afternoon! I am the Mayor of Halloween Town! It is very nice to meet you!” Looking down at his grey suit, there was indeed a giant orange-red ribbon that had ‘Mayor’ written on it in big letters right next to a gigantic black widow spider bow tie. “Oh uh, h-hello Mr. Mayor. I’m uh, Cassandra. Likewise,” she nodded while keeping her distance behind the safety of the doorframe. He placed his hat back on top of his head before speaking. “I’m sorry if I have woken you up, but Jack wanted me to inform you that he is stuck in a meeting. He said you could use this time to get ready so that you both can start the day when he was done. I could escort you to see him when you’re finished, as long as you are ok with that.” She blinked as his words were sinking into her still sleepy and somewhat scared mind. The Mayor’s swirl of an eye and giant grin was not exactly something that calmed her. “Uh, w-well I suppose it's fine if you don’t mind waiting,” she replied. “Of course not!” he turned while keeping his face towards her,” I’ll be down by the gate wai-ah!” he was cut off as he yelled in surprise as his foot missed the first step of the long winding staircase. Cassandra watched in horror as the Mayor tumbled down the stairs before wincing as the large iron gate at the foot of the stairs stopped his round body from rolling out into the street with a loud clang! “Oh my god!” she gasped and, without thinking twice about it, tried to find a way out. She quickly slipped on her shoes, ran to the window, and opened it to find the drop not as big as she thought it was. After all, this wasn’t her first time climbing out of a window. There wasn’t time to make a makeshift rope out of sheets, and even if she did make them it wasn’t like she would be able to climb it with that broken hand of hers. She looked around for something to shorten the distance and decided to go with all the bedding given to her, to pile on the floor and soften the fall. With a huff, she climbed one-handed onto the windowpane and dangled her legs out the window before pushing herself out. Her feet hit her sheets, while her bent knees absorbed the softer shock the pillows gave her and kept her from falling over. With a bit of pain in her left foot, she quickly ran around the house and down the stairs to check on the Mayor. “Mr. Mayor! Are you ok!?” A groan was the response she got before his head slowly turned again to the pale one she saw before. The sick crack of his spinning head still made her feel uneasy but she pushed those feelings away. She knelt at his side as she reached down to hook the not broken one of her arms around one of his to help him up. “Oh! My head,” he groaned while rubbing his cone head in pain. The raven-haired girl bent down to pick up the Mayor’s fallen hat and handed it back to him. “Is anything broken?! I would invite you inside to rest your head, but the door is super thin! I had to jump out a window to come help! Maybe we should find a doctor!” “Thank you, Cassandra, but I’m fine. I’m tougher than I look and, to be honest, this is not the first time this has happened. I can rest right here on the stai- wait you jumped out of a window!?” he looked up at her in shock as her words sunk in. “Um, well yeah. I did. I’m fine though! Don’t worry I’m used to it! I had to make sure you were ok! Besides, I’ve been known to jump from high places and land on my feet back where I’m from. I may have done it more times than I probably should have,” she chuckled dryly as she began recalling those memories before quickly shaking them off. She clears her throat awkwardly before quickly turning to go back up the stairs. “You’re sure that you’re ok?” she asked once more while looking back at him. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, thank you miss!” he assured her and with a nod, she started to climb up the stairs. “Um, Ms. Cassandra, how do you intend to get back inside?” he asked. His question stopped her in her tracks as she realized that she had no idea how she was going to do just that. “Shit,” she hissed under her breath. “Um, I’ll find a way Mr. Mayor…I hope.” She walked up to the front door to see if maybe she could slip through. She was more on the thin side, but her head wouldn’t fit for sure. She closed the door then walked back around the house to the open window she jumped from. Curse her broken hand! “Ok…how am I going to get back up there?”After a couple of attempts at jumping and one-handed climbing to the window ledge failed, she decided to give up. “With this broken hand and no ladder, I won’t be able to get up there unless I have superpowers.” With a defeated sigh, she grabbed the pile of sheets before turning and walked back to the Mayor who waited patiently by the bottom of the stairs. She placed the pile by the door so that she wouldn’t forget them later. Hearing her come up behind him, the Mayor got up from the step he was sitting on and turned to find the girl still wearing sweats and knotted up hair draped over her shoulders. “I assume you couldn’t get back in, correct?” She nodded a bit embarrassed by her appearance now after realizing she couldn’t change. “I figured. Well, shall we go?” Again, she nodded as she followed the Mayor to his car right outside the gate. It was a tall black hearse with red curtains covering the rear windows and a giant striped megaphone attached to the roof of the car. He held the door open for her to sit in the passenger seat then climbed in next to her. With a terrible cranking sound, they drove into the town square towards the giant building with the clock on it. Monsters of all kinds, that were roaming the square, started to crowd together and slowly crept closer to the car. They stared with curious eyes and whispered to each other quietly as they passed. If it wasn’t for the car, they probably would have swarmed her. “Don’t pay any attention to them, Ms. Cassandra. They haven’t seen one like you in a long time. Not to mention, they have nothing else to talk about! It’s a small town after all!” She kept herself quiet by his side but flushed bright red at all the attention while keeping her arms crossed over her chest. There wasn’t as much fear as there was embarrassment at this point, but she would be lying if she didn’t get the creeps from what looked like an undead clown walking by. This was definitely something new. “I have a question?” she squeaked trying not to be too loud in the space they were in. “Yes?” “If you’re the mayor of Halloween Town then how is Jack-“ “Jack is the Pumpkin King,” he interrupted,” which makes him the Halloween holiday leader. He leads not only this town but this world, thus making him my boss. I am only an elected official and I need his help in making important holiday decisions. I also help him in his affairs on anything he needs. I’m usually there if he needs another opinion on things or to exact any actions he needs to be done.” “Oh, that makes sense.” “We’re here!” he exclaimed as he stopped the car. Oh! That was a less than 5-minute ride…why did they drive then?! They got out of the car and climbed up the stone stairs leading to the big building. At the entrance, he opened the large wooden doors and motioned her inside first. She nodded gratefully at the action before walking in and glancing around the large room. He closed the doors behind them, shutting out the sunlight and leaving them in darkness for a moment. Once her eyes properly adjusted to the dim lighting, Cassandra stared in awe at the place. The room was huge, big enough to fit the entire town in it. The tall stone walls reached up to a dark ceiling and rafters that looked like they were about to fall apart. There was a small section just above her that held electrical lighting equipment that she found interesting to see. Snake candleholders and black banners adorned the grey walls as interesting decorations. Two long columns of wooden benches were placed in the middle of the room to seat the town’s inhabitants. At the end of the room, stood a small wooden stage with a grey curtain closed behind it. On the right-hand corner of the stage was a tall grey coffin-shaped podium that stood by two figures that were busy talking. One being Jack who had his back to her as he conversed with someone behind him. She could make out someone wearing what looked like a skeleton print sweater and matching sweats, but was too far away and blocked by the podium. Cassandra slowly walked forward trying not to make too much noise, so she wouldn’t bother their conversation, but her efforts were ruined as the Mayor scurried noisily past her towards the stage. She followed quickly over to the center of the stage where a small staircase was built and walked onto the stage platform. The two that were talking looked over at them in surprise then was met with Jack smiling at their presence. “Mayor! Cassandra! You’re finally here! I was just finishing up my meeting. Mayor, could I have your opinion on the matter? You see-,” he asked, but his words were fading into the background as a pair of nervous blue eyes met wide black ones. Standing by Jack, was a guy, maybe not that much older than herself, staring right back at her in almost shock. They both studied each other, both haven’t seen another human-like creature in a while. He was a round-faced boy with pale white skin, slightly pale blue lips, and black sunken eyes that were also painted black. In height, he was probably a bit taller than her, if not similar. He had green coiffed hair that almost reached his shoulders and he was indeed wearing what looked like a dirty skeleton costume that was beginning to look a bit small on him and a tad gross with the pieces of candy melted into the fabric. A glimpse at his feet caught her off guard as they were not only dirty but deformed with three thick pointy toes instead of five. Whether they were shoes made to look like that or if his feet were actually shaped like that, she wasn’t sure. She quickly looked back up at his face to be polite before averting her eyes all together as she could feel her face beginning to turn red. He was very handsome to her…in a weird way. Are you fucking serious!? You can’t be thinking about a crush at a time like this! You have such a weird taste in guys! Oh my god, and you look like you just rolled out of bed! Great! , her internal voice screamed in her head. The moment broke as those faded words in the background began to grow louder, calling for their attention. “-glad you agree about the ordeal! Oh yes!” They both whip their heads to look up at Jack. “Cassandra, let me introduce you to one of Halloween Town’s finest trick or treaters, Barrel. Barrel, this is the new visitor that everyone is talking about, Cassandra.” The two looked back at each other and gulped nervously. “H-hi,” she greeted softly with a small wave. He returned it with a small nod. “Excellent! Now Barrel,” he began as he turned to the podium to scribble something on a small sheet of paper. “Go see Sally and give her this! She’ll take care of your costume!” He hands him the paper then places a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later tonight!” The green-haired boy smiled at the paper then nodded before looking back at her. He smiled more softly at her one last time before jumping off the stage and running out the door. She watched the door shut behind him then turned back to the other two. “Cassandra!” she whipped her head back as Jack caught her attention. “How did you sleep? Horribly I hope!” the skeleton asked. “Like the dead,” she replied with a smile. She was glad to see a familiar face. “Wonderful! Glad to hear it!” “But I did have a problem with getting in and out of the house. I had to jump out of a window to get out.” “A window!?” “Yeah, that’s why I haven’t changed or brushed my hair. There was kind of a…dilemma that I had to help with.” Jack turned to the Mayor in confusion. “I fell down the stairs again.” “Ah, I see! You jumped out of a window to help the Mayor?” “Uh, yeah, but really it’s no big deal. I jumped out of windows a lot back home.” “That was very thoughtful of you to help…and brave of you to jump out of a window! For a stranger no less. What a wonderful person you are, Cassandra!” Jack said as he placed both of his hands on her shoulders. “I apologize about the door. It was really meant to fit only me. I had meant to use my soul robber to help you down when I was supposed to pick you up, but unfortunately, I forgot as I got caught up in the meeting!” “Uh, soul robber?” “Oh! This thing here!” he lifted his arm sleeve to reveal the green slimy thing that she saw from the fight before, wrapped around his bony wrist. “It’s a helpful little thing that can help me fight or latch onto things. Our infamous Dr. Finklestein created it for me!” “Wow! How crazy!” “Isn’t it?! Back to the matter at hand, would you like me to take you back to the house to change?” She deliberated this for a moment before deciding that it was already too late to head back. “That’s ok,” she shrugged. “Are you sure?” he asked once more. She shook her head. “It’s fine really! I’m already here, might as well just carry on.” “Alright if you say so, but if you need to get back at any time, don’t hesitate to tell me! Now, how about I take you on that tour I mentioned before?” he suggested as they began walking off the stage and out of the building while leaving the Mayor behind since he had to finish some work. “Sure, just uh, please stay close to me. I’m still not exactly feeling great here,” she said shifting a little closer. “Of course! Now let the tour begin!” he exclaimed dramatically. He gestured to the open area in front of them, the same area where she was attacked. “This probably familiar-looking place here is our town square! Where everyone likes to meet up with one another and refresh themselves by the fountain. Be careful though! Our local Undersea Gal is often sleeping or resting in there!” Cassandra looked over and like he said a monster that looked like it came straight from the movie ‘The Creature from the Black Lagoon’, was chatting with what looked like the Devil himself…or at least something similar. Jack turned around and gestured to the building they had just come from. “This is our Town Hall, where the town congregates for meetings. You’ll be able to know when there is a meeting when the Mayor announces it over the loudspeaker on his car and the city bells start ringing.” The young girl looks up at the building then points up at the countdown clock. “That clock…am I reading that right? Is it really counting down to Halloween?” The clock now read nine days. “Yes, it is! My, it’s almost time! I am so excited! It can’t ever get here fast enough!” “I know right,” she smiled in agreement. He looked down at her with an impossibly huge smile. “Do you like Halloween?” he asked excitedly. “I love it! It’s my favorite holiday!” He clasped his hands together with glee. “Fantastic!!! I’m so glad you do!” Suddenly his eye sockets seemed to light up as if he came up with an idea. “Say, maybe you could stay for a little while and celebrate it with us! We’re planning to do something special this year! Something different!” “Something different? What do you mean?” “Well, we usually do the same old thing every year with awards given out and a town singing ceremony, but ever since an incident many years ago, we have been trying to do something different every year. Not every year was a success in planning the different ideas but this one will be!” He panned his attention across the courtyard. “We’re having a Halloween festival with snack booths, games, a horror maze, and dancing! Even now, we’re still thinking of absolutely horrifying things!” he excitedly explained. “What do you think?” When he finally glanced over, he found her looking starry-eyed at the idea. “That…that sounds like a lot of fun! Oh,” she shook her head to bring her back to reality,” but I remember you said that I came here at a bad time! After the whole attack thing remember? Why is it a bad time? Why was I attacked? Why would you still do anything at all nowadays?” “Oh, that’s right! I had almost forgotten! It’s a very long story with a lot of history and perhaps I’ll tell you it later. To put it simply, someone is trying to take over the town after I had left for a short while, but I came back in time to stop it. The attacks have been less frequent since I returned, and I intend to protect the citizens with all my power. With that in mind and considering how much Halloween means to us, I thought it would be a shame to stop the festivities,” he explained then suddenly looked remorseful. “I am very sorry about the whole thing! I can’t apologize enough for getting you involved! You even got hurt in the process! Forgive me for not helping you fast enough! I didn’t realize you were here till I heard the screaming. At the time I was in the residential area trying to make sure everyone was ok on that end! I would like to make it up to you in any way I can!” “Oh! No, don’t apologize! It isn’t your fault! I put up a good fight and you even saved me in the end. You don’t need to do anything for me really! Which reminds me, I can’t thank you enough for coming for me. You really did save my life! No one has ever come to help me when I needed it before,” He raised a brow bone in confusion at that last comment. “What do you mean by that?” The question caught Cassandra off guard. No one has ever asked about anything she’s said. No one has ever cared enough to listen. Answering such a personal question about something so horrible in her life made her panic a little bit. “If it’s alright, I would really like it if we don’t talk about it right now,” she replied while keeping her gaze at the floor. This troubled Jack, but not wanting to stress things he agreed. “Well, you most definitely did put up a fight! It was rather impressive for someone who had no weapons or any real idea as to what was going on. I would still like to do something for you! We can definitely get your clothes sewn up and your injuries fixed with no charge! We should actually do it right now! Maybe I could purchase something for you to always remember Halloween Town by, for wherever you go! Especially if you decide to leave us.” She brought her head back up and smiled softly. “That would be nice. Thank you!” “Now how about that offer of joining us for our spooktacular Halloween?” “Oh, I couldn’t possibly intrude!” “It’s no trouble! Please think it over! Like I always say the more the scarier!” he said while placing a hand on her shoulder. She bit her lip in conflict. “I’ll think about it,” she finally replied after a minute. “I’m glad to hear it! Now, let’s continue with the tour! Follow me!”
11393022	Trinket	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Original Work", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by geckoch", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-15T00:00:00", "words": "1,883", "Additional Tags": "non-con, Size Kink, Unwanted Gentleness, Implied forced interspecies mpreg, Self-Sacrifice, Forced Orgasm", "Relationship": "Original Male Human/Original Male Dragon", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Nonconathon 2017", "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 }	After the third day of burning, when the sun had set and the moon was black with ash, when the still smoldering embers in the were fields the only light remaining, Red came to accept that the elders hadn't been lying to keep them in line. The dragon would burn their crops until the theif was produced and if they starved in winter, so be it.He reached under his pillow and grasped the stolen diadem, it's cool metal a welcome comfort. It was a simple thing, wrought of base metal. He hadn't taken it to sell, he just thought the copper and brass would be pretty against his hair. And he had thought the dragon would never miss such a thing from its towering hoard of gold and gems.One last time, he brushed the long, auburn hair he was so proud of and placed the diadem on his head, taking what comfort he could in the ritual. He paused at the threshold of his cottage, looking back sadly at it. No, he could not chance one more night. He must make an end of it, or someone else would pay for his theft with a slow, winter death. He turned away from home and set out across the smoldering fields to meet his doom. Red never made it to the dragon's cave. The wyrm swooped down, swirling around him in the middle of the field, finally alighting not a horse's length away from him. It craned its serpentine neck to examine him, the red light of the embers scintillating off its golden scales."It suits you, little thief," rumbled the dragon.Voice trembling, Red said, "Thank you." He didn't know what else to say."A trinket. Just a worthless little trinket, but my worthless little trinket, was it not?""It was." His voice was barely more than a whimper."It is both fortunate and unfortunate for you," mused the dragon, "that I become quite fond of my trinkets." Its forked tongue darted out to taste the side of Red's face. He squeezed his eyes closed to stop the tears from falling. "My pretty, worthless, little trinkets."When he heard the tearing of his clothes and felt the sting on his back, Red was sure for an instant the dragon had killed him. His eyes shot open, a couple stray tears escaping to cling to his lashes, and he realized as his tunic fell open at the back that what he felt was only the shock of the cold night air against his skin. The dragon's talons trailed down his legs almost tenderly, so gently that all he felt could have been the gentle brush of a feather, had it not been accompanied by small, rhythmic pops as the dragon's claw sliched through the cross-gartering of his leggings one lace at a time. "Lay down your tunic, trinket. You will be more comfortable, lying on a blanket, and I would not have the embers mar your skin so soon."Shuddering as he bared himself before the monster, Red spread the tunic on the ground. It was not a fine wool, but it was not as coarse as some. He had scrimped and saved for the cloth, and gathered himself the walnuts he'd used to dye it. If he was to die here, naked but for his stolen diadem, there were worse places to lie than this.Muddled and hazy with fear, he lay clumsily on the soft wool, wondering how he was to be killed. Would it gut him? Eat him alive?The dragon's head, near the size of Red's whole body, bent to nudge his knees apart. "Are you untouched?" Before Red could understand to answer, its snake-like tongue darted between his legs, flickering its way over all his most intimate parts. The sensation made him shiver and try to close his legs, but the beast's massive head blocked the way. The dragon continued as though it had not even noticed Red's resistance. "Yes," it hissed, "I see you are. My poor, lost trinket. Cast aside without ever being enjoyed, oh, so lonely. The world is cruel."The dragon's intent must be other than Red understood. It was not possible. Its tongue flicked out, this time carressing him more deeply and making him squirm with shameful heat. It forced its way inside, wriggling like a worm. It was the way its lashing inside him made his cock stand as though he wanted this debasement that made Red frightened enough to strike. He lunged for its eyes, fingers connecting but meeting hard scale."I am not a fresh-shed callow," laughed the dragon. "Come now, trinket." Its tongue lapped moisture from the head of his traitor cock, making Red bite his lip to stifle a cry of pleasure. "Have I not been kind?" It had not gutted him. It had not eaten him. It had even let him lie on his tunic, to protect him from the burning embers and the hard ground. Red struggled to deny its claim of kindness even as its tongue returned to making him shudder.It was true he had been virginal. This monster's was the first touch he'd ever known and was like to be the last. "Will you kill me?" Red asked, unable to keep his voice steady. The dragon lifted its head from between his legs and cocked it thoughtfully. "I hope not," it said at last. "But," it conceded, holding its head steady even as its body lumbered forwards, "who knows what your little body can survive?" Red felt more unbidden tears fall as a huge talon came terrifyingly close to his face to comb through his hair. "So delicate. So pretty. My trinket."There was something huge, heavy and slimy, sliding up Red's naked skin to drape on him from his knees to his sternum. Terror choked him. He lifted his spinning head to see his fears confirmed. The gartantuan, slimy thing bearing down on him was indeed the dragon's member.At its base, it was as big around as a large summer melon. It tapered to a thin tip like a candle. The thought of what it would be like to die impaled on it made Red's bladder release. He felt the pathetic little stream of piss from his cock, so small against the dragon's. One wing bent down, low and Red saw the garnet-set band of rose gold that dangled from the claw tipping it. "This is no trinket, like the one you stole. This is a treasure. Fasten it around your pretty throat."Red obeyed with shaking hands, afraid of the impossible prospect of something worse than the dragon's cock. It didn't seem to warm to the touch, staying cool and soothing around his neck."Magic," rumbled the dragon. "If I am slow, if I am careful, it will allow me to alter your body to my pleasure. That's what you are for, trinket, are you not? My pleasure."Red nodded, head swimming with terror and shame."Ask me. All night, I have offered you such kindness, while you lie on your back with your little cock jutting up for attention. Spoiled little trinket." The dragon nuzzled his cheek with its massive snout, as if to reassure him this was mostly a fond jest. Mostly. "Ask me to claim you gently, like a loving husband.""Please." Red's voice shook and broke. "Please, claim me gently. L-like a loving husband. Please." The word turned into a sob as the tip of the dragon's cock breached him.Shallowly, ever so shallowly, it fucked him. Just the tip of its slimy, slippery cock, no larger than a man's finger, pressing in and out, in and out. It didn't hurt him at all. No, to his shame, the jolts it sent through him were of unwelcome pleasure. It jabbed relentlessly at a place inside him that made some wanton part of him arch and keen, even as his tears flowed. Not an hour ago he had been a virgin, now he panted with growing need as an inhuman cock defiled him.The dragon's gentle, relentless fucking forced him to a climax. Red sobbed openly, humiliated tears burning down his cheeks even as his body shook in pleasure. The dragon's cock slid deeper as he came, sending more shocks of pleasure through him as he spasmed around the growing stretch. It stopped before it became painful, returning to its slow, gentle rocking. The dragon rumbled contentedly. "So sweet inside. So wanton." Its tongue flickered out to lick his tears away. A talon carressed his belly and, suddenly, for the first time, Red felt the sharp sting of pain. "Another treasure, trinket," soothed the dragon. Red lifted his head dizzlily and saw the glint of a ruby in his naval. "My seed will catch." Two more sharp pinches at his nipples. Two glimmering rings of rose gold. "You will have milk for our clutch."All the while, the dragon rocked deeper into his overstimulated body, opening him slowly. Pleasurably. On the long, deep thrusts that made him gasp and blush, he felt his stomach bulge where the dragon's cock distended it, and he clasped his hands on the collar around his throat, as if to check it was still there protecting him. Reshaping him. Ruining him.The second time he came, his cock barely even got hard. The dragon's cock was just so big inside him, pressing him all over, including where he needed to be pressed. The deeper it thrust, the more distant and faint the idea of escape became. He had been ruined for marriage the moment its tongue entered him. Now, he was unfit to be a whore, stretched too loose for a man to find pleasure in him. Soon, no horse would be able to take its pleasure either. Only a dragon's cock would fill his hole.He found himself slipping in and out of consciousness, waking each time to the terrible pleasure of the dragon's slow ravishment. For a long while, all he knew were fear and shameful pleasure, until a weak, shivering orgasm brought him back to some measure of lucidity. He felt no seed on his belly. He thought he might have spent it all while he was senseless, even more starkly at the dragon's mercy than when he was awake.The obscene, squelching thrusts felt impossibly long, impossibly deep. Red struggled to lift his head to see how much of the dragon's cock was left, but he was as weak as a kitten."Half." The dragon nuzzled his face in obvious pleasure. "My favorite trinket. My best trinket." Red turned his head, looking out at the first hints of pre-dawn light in the field rather than into the fond, reptilian eyes of his violator. What would happen, he wondered, when day broke? No one would dare come close to a rutting dragon, certainly not close enough to see the face of the despoiled. But they would see his hair. They would know who it was the dragon was mounting. Red spread his legs and rocked his hips whorishly, trying to take more. Half way. It was half way inside him now. He prayed fervently that it would finish before dawn and spare him at least that final humiliation.
11322210	Proxy	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Castiel, Meg Masters, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by BleedingInk", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-27T00:00:00", "words": "8,328", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Meg Lives, Demonic Possession, Explicit Sexual Content, True Forms, True Form Sex, Masturbation in Shower, Who knew there was an specific tag for that?, Threesome - F/M/M, Sort Of, It's a threesome in two bodies, Anal Sex, Consensual Possession, Polyamory, Sappy Ending, In The Lethe Easter Egg, see if you can spot it, Megstiel - Freeform, Sastiel - Freeform, Dream Sex, Dreamwalking", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Castiel/Meg Masters, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Meg Masters/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Meg Masters/Sam Winchester", "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 }	Sam was dreaming.He had been lying on his side, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes for a couple of minutes before he realized he was dreaming. Amazingly, he didn’t wake up upon coming to that realization. Maybe because his body was still recovering of the strain the infection had put on him. Or maybe because the dream was far from unpleasant.His bedroom in the bunker had doubled in size, big enough to allow another bed next to his. There was a man sitting there, naked, with his head thrown back in ecstasy while his fingers sank in the hair of the woman kneeling between his legs. Her head bobbed up and down, the muscles of her back arching and tensing with every movement.It wasn’t a completely new occurrence that Sam had this kind of dream, especially if it had been a while without any sort of… intimacy. What was new, however, was that he wasn’t seeing this in first person point of view. He was watching two people go at it, but it wasn’t like watching a porno either. They were there, in his room. He could see them with pristine clarity, every drop of the sweat on their muscles, the flush of their skins. He could hear the hoarse moans coming out of the man’s mouth partially opened lips, the wet, sloppy noises she made every time she slid her mouth up and down her partner’s erection. He could smell them, too. It wasn’t the usual smell of sex and sweat, it was something else, something stronger and far stranger. His still asleep brain couldn’t quite identify it.The only other experience that Sam could compare it to was walking in on Dean when he was busy with some girl he had picked up at a bar. Except that had been awkward and terrible and this… this was rather pleasant. Exciting, even. He could feel his own hardness against his leg, but once more, he couldn’t tell if that was happening to his body for real or if it was just in his dream.The man put her hands on her cheeks and delicately pushed her away. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, as if they were exchanging a sort of silent communication. She planted her hands on the mattress and stood up. Sam could see her long black hair cascading down her back, her round butt and long legs. She was rather short, especially compared to the man, who was standing up with her now and taking her in his arms. They kissed, open-mouthed and desperate, and he picked her up, spun her around and threw her back on the bed.There was something wicked about the way she cackled. Something loud and bizarre, but at the same time… familiar. Sam had the impression he had heard that laughter before and that made sense in a strange sort of way. He had read the brain couldn’t make up new faces, so it just took them from different environments and put them in his dream. She might have been an actress or a stranger or a person he had encountered during a hunt.But at the same time, he had the impression he had heard that laughter many times. In fact, he was perfectly familiar with it.Through the cloud of arousal in his mind, however, he couldn’t put a name on it. And besides, things were getting interesting. Sam finally found it in him to move his hand to palm his cock over the boxers as he continued to watch.The man knelt between her legs, caging her with his body and gripping her wrists above her head while he leaned down to kiss her neck. She arched her back up as she let out a cry of pleasure. The man, guided by her reaction, kissed her on the other side of her neck. Now that Sam could see what he was doing, he realized the man was leaving a hickie over her skin before he lowered his mouth and took one of her rosy nipples into it. Sam slid his hand beneath the fabric and gently began pumping his own cock.A shadow moved above them. Sam couldn’t quite make up what it was, too distracted by their lovemaking and his own enjoyment to pay much attention to it, but as they continued to kiss, as the man delicately pushed her legs apart and slid into her, the shadows became clearer and… bigger.They were wings. They looked tattered and almost burned as they sprang from the man’s back, but there were still black fathers clinging to it. Sam stared at them in awe.The woman clung unto his back as the man started thrusting. Her hands were no longer small and delicate. In fact, it seemed her nails had grown several inches, becoming terrible claws that sank on his skin so deep they drew blood.The man let out a moan and sat up, pulling her up with him. He wasn’t gentle like before, in fact, he was manhandling her rather roughly. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she was enjoying it as she opened her legs to accommodate over his cock and started riding him. His wings flapped and twitched with every movement and a warm, golden light began to glow underneath his skin. She was changing too: something black and scaly slithered in the bed with them. At first Sam thought it was a snake, but he realized it was a tail, coming out of her back and surrounding her partner’s lower back, almost like a loving embrace. She pushed hard against him and when she threw back her head, Sam saw a pair of twisted long horns growing among her hair.Now Sam could tell what the scent was: smoke, thick smoke that came from her skin. The man, on the other hand, smelled like ozone, like the air thinning right before a storm. They smelled like fire and rain.They opened their eyes to look at each other. His were shining bright and silver. Hers were pitch black.Sam let out a long, involuntary gasp as the orgasm shook through him. He was still spilling his cum against his boxers, his hand still holding his shaft when he opened his eyes to the empty room. The scent of the demon and the angel with the broken wings copulating still clang to his nostrils, his heart was pounding hard and his chest heaved up and down as he tried to catch his breath.But as pleasant as it all had been, a nagging feeling pull in the back of his head.Really, Sam?, came Meg’s voice, filled to the brim with frustration. You couldn’t last two more minutes? It was a strange feeling, sharing his body with a demon. Sam had been possessed before, by angels, and one time, by this particular demon. He could tell that the experiences were quite different.With Lucifer, it was like being pushed back into a corner, paralyzed and terrifying as he tried to break free of his control, watching the things he did as if he was a mere spectator. Lucifer could just as well submerge him into a fantasy or completely shut him out, but he was a sadistic bastard. He liked that Sam had some room to wiggle and that ultimately had been fundamental for Sam breaking free and pushing him into the Cage.Gadreel had been a little gentler. Of course, if he had been more forceful, Sam might have realized he was there, so of course he had always been careful when he took control over him. It felt more like a nudge, like being pushed down underwater and left to float there. It was surreal and disorienting.Sam didn’t remember much of the last time Meg had possessed him. She had been rough with him, completely nullifying him while she ran rampant murdering and terrorizing people. Those two weeks were a complete black out to Sam, but from what Dean had told him, it hadn’t been pretty.But that had been years ago. Many things had changed since. Meg had changed.She’d offered herself to be Crowley’s punching back, to distract him while Dean and Castiel retrieved the Tablet. She had understood that Crowley hated her so much he would be distracted by killing her, giving the brothers and the angel a few precious extra seconds to run away. The Meg that had done that for them, that had freely confessed to Sam that she had found a new cause to serve in the form of Castiel, was hardly the same demon that had taken over Sam because she was pissed they had exorcised her.That didn’t make it any less scary when one day, when Sam was doing something as mundane as picking up groceries, he had smelled the familiar reek of smoke and brimstone. Before he could react, the black column came sliding down his throat, almost choking him. He stumbled down and pathetically crashed against a shelf, knocking down several jars of peanut butter. The din of broken glass attracted the attention of the other costumers and the store’s employees.Before Sam had time to adjust to what had just happened, there were several hands grabbing him and trying to help him get back on his feet.“Sir? Are you okay?”That was a very good question. Sam still had the disgusting taste of sulfur in his mouth and his nose and he had to suppress a heave before he managed to find his voice:“Yes… yes… I’m sorry, I… I stumbled…”He didn’t feel different. He flexed his fingers and moved his head only to make sure, but yes, he was still in full control of his body and his mind. But what he had seen and what he had felt had been real… or was they? Was he hallucinating? Unconsciously, he pushed into the old scar on his hand and closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, he only saw the same worried and curious faces looking at him.“I’m fine,” he assured the small crowd that had gathered around him. “It’s fine.”“Are you sure? Do you want us to call someone for you?”“I’m fine,” Sam repeated. “I just… I think I’ll go home now.”He took two steps towards the door when the employee called him again.“I’m sorry, but… I’m gonna need you to pay for those,” he said, pointing at the peanut butter on the floor.Sam paid with one of their counterfeit credit cards and almost fled the store. He sat on the Impala’s driving seat, his heart and his mind both still racing. What the hell had happened in there? Hello, Sam. Sam sat very rigidly and looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. He knew that voice.“Meg?” he asked in a whisper.The one and only, she said in his head. Love what you’ve done with the place. It’s even crappier than the last time I was here. Dean wasn’t happy about it, of course.“A demon? Really, Sam? You’re letting a demon live inside of you? Don’t you think we already have enough problems?”“It’s not a demon, Dean. It’s Meg,” Sam argued.“Oh, is that supposed to make me feel any better?”Well, the devil you know… Meg muttered.“How is this any different than when you let an angel you didn’t know possess me? At least this time I know what’s going on and I can choose to let her stay.”“Come on, man…” Dean muttered, annoyed because he really didn’t have a good come back for that.And this is all your fault for not getting a new tat, by the way, Meg added. She had wasted no time in going through Sam’s memories of what had happened while she was gone.“Listen, she needs somewhere to hide,” Sam replied. “She’s right. If she possesses someone else, Crowley could find out she’s back.”Besides, you won’t let me possess someone per se, Meg pointed out. We’ve talked about this. If you need to find a new meatsuit, it has to be one that is empty. It was amazing how even as a disembodied voice in his head, Meg still managed to pout and puff.“Yes, and how is she back?” Dean asked, frowning. “I thought once demons were gone, that was it. Are you sure it’s her and not someone pretending to be her?” I’m going out on a limp here, but maybe it has something to do with the ancient, unspeakable evil you morons let loose. “The Darkness?” Sam said, surprised. “You know about Amara?”Amara? Is that what she’s calling herself now? Meg asked. When I heard the rumors about her, they called her Sheol.Dean was a little less reluctant to let her stay once Meg proved she had some information about their new enemy. Amara (or Sheol) was, after all, what Lucifer had reached into to create demons. And Meg was very old, even older than Crowley, probably one of the few older demons that remained now that Azazel, Alistair and Abaddon were all dead. Even so, the Darkness had been a legend for her as much as Lucifer or Lilith had been. She’s not a goddess, strictly speaking. She’s more like… a counterpart. “A counterpart of what?” What do you think, Sam? If she’s chaos and destruction, what could possibly be her counterpart? “Creation,” Sam guessed, his eyes opening wide and the realization. “God.” Ding, ding, ding. God had to banish her to create the universe and everything in it. He could do it again, if you asked him nicely. “So, all we need to do is find God and convince him to give a crap about us,” Dean groaned. “’Cause that worked out so well last time we tried it.”Sam had no idea how they were supposed to do that. But he had an idea of who could point them in the right direction. Wait! Sam’s finger hovered over the call button.“What is it?” Are you… going to tell him? That I’m back? Sam saw no reason not to do that, but he could feel Meg’s apprehension. It was a strange thing: sometimes he felt urges, anger or melancholy that he knew weren’t his, but they still affected him. He knew that last time she had possessed him she had been able to look into his mind, find out about his emotion and his thoughts. This time, it seemed to work the other way as well: he could feel her frustration, her alertness, her worry. Meg had never been the most open person… creature, so Sam took it as a sign of good will that she let him peak into her thoughts like that.Right now, for example, he knew she was anxious because she didn’t think Castiel would give a crap about her being alive.“That’s ridiculous. He cared about you.” Yeah, but he’s an angel. He’s programmed to care. He cares about you and Dean, too, even though you treat him like shit. She wasn’t going to say the words, but Sam could guess easily what her concern was. She had called Castiel “her unicorn”. She had died for him. She had rarely felt that level of devotion for anyone, except perhaps her father or Lucifer. But even so, she knew this was something entirely different.“He was really sad when you died,” he tried telling her. Was he? He doesn’t look it in your memories. “Well, Castiel was always hard to read,” Sam pointed out.Meg still wasn’t convinced.“Look, even if I don’t tell him, he’s gonna know you’re there when he looks at me.” You don’t know that. I’m good at hiding. “What’s the problem, Meg? Are you scared?”Meg gave him the mental equivalent of a huff, but Sam was sure he had hit the nail in the head. She was scared, both of the intensity of her own feelings and about them not being reciprocated.But she was also too proud to admit it. Make the damn call. Castiel showed up in the bunker an hour after Sam hanged up.“You said you had a clue about the Darkness…”He stopped mid-sentence, frozen in the middle of the library the moment he saw Sam. His blue eyes grew wide and his lips opened in shocked.“Meg,” he muttered.For the first time since she had entered him, Sam felt her taking control of him to say:“Hello, Clarence.”Castiel’s face started lightening up.“How?” he asked, advancing towards her – them. “It’s…”“I swear to Hell, Castiel, if you say a miracle…” Meg interrupted him. She let out a chuckle that come out a little forced. “Sam, do you mind giving us some privacy?”Sam wasn’t sure how they were going to do that, but he still thought: Yes, of course.When Sam blinked again, he was sitting in on one of the tables. Castiel was gone and Meg was no longer controlling his body. There was something in his hand. It looked like a rope necklace with a pendant hanging at the end. It took Sam a moment to recognize it, though when he did, he didn’t know if it was because he had seen it or because Meg knew what it was.It was the charm she used to wear around her neck. She’d had it on her when she’d died.Castiel must have retrieved it after they left. He must have come back to look for her and kept it, even when he had become human and been homeless.He was always a sap, Meg commented, but she sounded pleased. Castiel seemingly showed up in the bunker a lot more after that. He had organized the angels and they were putting their heads together to find a way to either find God or banish the Darkness again without him. Sam and Dean kept hunting (Meg’s commentary during such occasions was uncalled for, but she proved herself useful in figuring out this monster or the other) and investigating as much as they could.But whenever they were in the bunker, Castiel seemed to show up there as well. He always brought something for Meg: be it a magazine that then Sam had to lend her his eyes to read, or beer, and in one occasion, even a flower.“If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re feeling guilty about something, Clarence,” Meg said through Sam’s voice.Castiel lowered his eyes and it became instantly clear that he did feel guilty about something.“Rowena has the power to re-open the Cage now, thanks to the Book,” he explained, to the horror of both Sam and Meg. “Lucifer and Michael have been…”“Have you gone out of your mind?!”Sam wasn’t sure if it was him or Meg that screamed that, but the feeling was mutually shared and amplified. Of course Meg would be scandalized at the prospect of Castiel working with Crowley and Sam didn’t think he could stand the thought of even risking Lucifer getting out again.Castiel cringed and recoiled.“Dean is considering it,” he confessed, raising his hands as if to defend himself.“Of course!” Meg exclaimed. “And of course he wouldn’t tell us about it!”Dean chose the worst possible moment to walk into the kitchen.“Hey, what are you guys talking about…?”Meg proceeded to chew him up with some choice words and insults Sam didn’t even know existed for the next fifteen minutes. Castiel could probably have stopped her, but he chose to stand aside with his hands in his pockets and literally look the other way. Sam also could have stopped her, but… he didn’t feel like it.When Meg make a pause to catch her breath, Dean was thoroughly taken aback, but he still made an attempt to defend himself.“It may be the only way…”“You find another way,” Meg replied. “It’s too risky, Dean,” Sam added.Dean looked at Castiel, as if he was looking for someone to tell him he was right.“Maybe we should listen to them, Dean,” Castiel suggested, kindly. “If there’s anyone who knows just how dangerous Lucifer is…”“And how are we supposed to…?”“I don’t care,” Meg snapped. “You go anywhere near that cage – hell, I’m thinking we’re gonna have to kill the witch now. And why haven’t any of you idiots stabbed Crowley in the face yet, anyway? Have you learned nothing?”She had a point there and Sam wasn’t about to argue with her. Dean chose the less intelligent path.“He’s useful…”That earned him another string of insults. By the time Meg was done, Dean’s face was red and his fists were clenched in rage.“Fine!” he shouted. “Bitch!”Castiel appeared right in front of him.“I don’t appreciate you talking to her like that, Dean,” he said, lowering his voice an octave so it became a menacing growl.“Are you kidding me?!” Dean asked. “So what, you’re like a thing now?”Meg chuckled in Sam’s throat.“Jealous?”“I’m done!” Dean decided, throwing his hand in the air. “Done with all of you!”He stormed out of the kitchen and Meg laughed some more in his wake.“That was beautiful, Clarence.”“That was… not how I was planning on bringing it up,” Castiel admitted.But when he turned around, he was smiling despite Dean’s hostility.“I guess he was going to find out sooner or later.”“I guess so,” Meg replied, standing up.They stood face to face. Castiel lowered his eyes, leaning in closer, and Meg licked Sam’s lip, very slowly. Sam felt his cheeks burning and immediately wished he knew how to do that thing when Meg pushed him to the back of his own mind and he blacked out.But Castiel stepped backwards, quickly clearing his throat.“I should go. We need to keep an eye on Rowena.”He awkwardly turned around and fled the bunker without saying goodbye.Meg let out a groan of frustration and retreated before Sam could ask her what had been the deal with that.That was the day before Sam had the lucid dream about them fucking.Castiel returned the following morning, looking mildly embarrassed. Sam was in the laundry room, throwing his boxers into the washing machine when Castiel strolled in and unnecessarily clarified Dean had let him in.“I wanted to… apologize for… uh, disturbing your sleep.”“So it was actually you in there?” Sam asked, with a cringe. He’d suspected as much, but Meg hadn’t answered his requests for confirmation until now. Of course it was us. “Okay, why?” Because Clarence here thinks we shouldn’t do anything while I’m taking up residence in your abnormally tall body. Sam couldn’t help but to wonder when had that exchange taken place. Maybe it wasn’t the first time that Castiel walked into his dreams to be with Meg, just the first time he realized it.“I would not feel comfortable involving you in it,” Castiel confirmed.“Okay, I get it.” Sam shrugged. “You want to wait until Meg is in a female meatsuit. That’s fine.”Castiel squinted his eyes at him, as he did when he was confused.“I… don’t care about that, Sam,” he replied. “You have an aesthetically pleasing body. Please, don’t feel self-conscious. It’s not that.”Meg’s laughter echoed in Sam’s head while his cheeks burned red.“I really don’t mind in which shape or form Meg is. Who she is for me doesn’t change,” Castiel continued, apparently unaware of the awkwardness. “But there is the issue of you, uh… consenting.”Sam really didn’t know what to answer to that. He had consented to Meg staying in his body while she needed to lay low, but Castiel was right: this was an entirely different thing to ask from him. They would be using his body for something very intimate. And it being with Castiel on top of it…“No, you’re right. It would be weird,” Sam agreed, with a cringe.Castiel nodded, respecting his position.“We will try to temper our enthusiasm so we don’t wake you next time.”“Wait, there’s not going to be a next time,” Sam protested. “You’re not dreamwalking into my mind again.”Technically, he dreamwalked into my mind, Meg corrected him. Some of it bled into yours because we happen to be sharing a brain. Think about it as having noisy neighbors and very thin walls. But in this analogy, you get to come and your neighbor doesn’t because you woke up too soon.Castiel’s face was one of pure sadness as he lowered his eyes.“I apologize again. It was the only way we could be together until we have dealt with Crowley,” he explained. “But if you don’t wish us to attempt it again, we will stop.”He looked so desperate that Sam felt a pang of guilt. He could understand the need to be with Meg. If Jess had miraculously come back to life, he too would have wanted to be with her at all costs. Aren’t we getting a little sentimental here? Sam sighed.“Okay, fine, you can try it again,” he agreed. “But please try not to wake me.” They woke him up again.This time, the bed must have been conjured up by Meg, because it was a four-posts with red velvet curtains. Sam didn’t think Castiel knew enough about sex to come up with something that fancy. The curtains were thick enough that this time Sam couldn’t see directly what they were doing, but there was a bright white light coming in from the inside that projected their silhouettes into the fabric. Sam could make out Meg’s horned head and Castiel’s broken wings flapping, but little else, since they were melted into a tight embrace. Their shadows moved rhythmically over the mattress, their moans mixing with the obscene slapping of their skins.The smell of fire and rain invaded the air.Sam felt his dick getting hard, but resisted the urge to touch himself. If he woke up before they were done, Meg wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.Luckily for him, it seemed they had almost reached that point. A hot white light flashed behind the curtains as two satisfied moans rose in the air. The mattress’ springs creaked when they fell heavily into it and the silver glow slowly became fainter and fainter until it disappeared. The bed was left empty and dark, and tough their combined scent continued in the air, Sam was sure they were gone.Only then he dared to lower his hand and fist his cock inside of his boxers.“Do you need help with that?”Sam opened his eyes with a jolt.Meg was sitting in his bed, naked and demonic: her skin seemed to have grown patches of black scales and there still horns growing among her hair and her eyes were hollow sockets. Her tail (which he could see now had a triangular pointy end) whipped the air distractedly. When she smiled at him, he saw two rows of very sharp teeth.Obviously, in their shared mindspace, Meg had no reason to hide her true form. Sam still wished she had worn the skin of the last girl she’d possessed.“Wimp,” Meg mocked him, and if she’d had eyes, Sam was sure she would be rolling them. But when he looked again, Meg had the face of the girl from Cheboygan. She was still naked, though, and she seemed to have no intentions of doing anything about that.“Thank you,” Sam sighed. “I’ll… go back to sleep now.”He rolled over and tried to ignore the fact his cock was still painfully erect.“You are asleep, Sammy,” Meg reminded him. “The question stands: do you need help with that?”“Why are you asking me that?” Sam said, cringing. “Don’t you think Castiel would mind?”“Why? It’s not like it’s actually happening. And besides, we’re friends. You’re being a real trooper about me living in your head and fucking my angel boyfriend in your dreams,” Meg explained. “And you’re so sad I think you sort of deserve to have something nice. I pity you, to be honest.”“Thanks,” Sam muttered through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.”“Ah, come on,” Meg insisted. “I’m a good actress. I can impersonate whatever little fantasy you keep hidden in here. Who do you want me to be? Someone famous? That hunter chick you thought was cute? One of your dead girlfriends?”“That’s disturbing, Meg.”“Not the least disturbing thing I can do, believe me.” Meg laughed. Her hand came to rest on Sam’s shoulder. “Maybe that’s what you like, huh? Something disturbing to take the edge off?”Sam felt his cock twitched and grasp unto the sheets. This had to be one of the most messed up things he’d ever considered doing, and he had done plenty of messed up things in his life.“Well, you don’t have to tell me,” Meg insisted. “I can just find it in your mind library. Let’s see… who is Sam Winchester wishing and dreaming and praying for but would never ever confess out loud?”Sam’s first panicky thought was that she could never find that out. The second was that of course she was going to find out and it was going to go from awkward to mortifying really fast.“Wait, no!” he said, sitting up, but it was too late.Meg wasn’t sitting by his side anymore. Instead, Castiel was, just as naked as she had been. He blinked perplexed and looked down at his hands.“Well, Sammy. Who would’ve thought? I figured if one of you had a secret crush on the angel it would be your idiot older brother.”The voice was almost a perfect imitation of Cas’. Of course, he would never ha that mocking undertone and he would never chuckled in that seductive way.“I can work with this,” she said, leaning over so Cas’ face – Meg’s face was just inches away from Sam’s. Her hand crawled up Sam’s leg. “I know all of his best moves, after all.”“Stop!”Sam opened his eyes. He was in his room, alone. He patted his head and pinched the back of his hand to make sure he was awake. When he pushed the sheets aside and planted his feet on the floor, he realized that he was still very much hard.He groaned to himself and stood up to go to the bathroom. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. If someone can understand it, I guess that would be me. “Can we not talk about this?” Well, you’re thinking pretty loudly about it. “Yeah, because you keep bringing it up,” Sam snapped.He opened the faucet and washed his face before taking a look in the mirror. His eyes had dark circles underneath them and there was stubble growing on his cheeks and chin. His hair was a mess and he felt dirty. Not because of what Meg had offered to do, but because of what she’d discovered about him.Castiel was an angel. He was a creature of light and purity, and Sam was… Sam wasn’t even worth thinking about.Come on, Meg chuckled in his head. He might be an angel, but he’s hardly pure. And you heard what he said: you have an aesthetically pleasing body.“I don’t want to talk about this,” Sam repeated. He opened the shower and threw his boxers on the laundry basket. Sam, look at me. For once, her mocking tone was gone. She sounded serious.Sam lifted up his eyes to the mirror. Among the fog, he could see the dark, eyeless face that Meg had hidden by possessing pretty girls. She had no nose and no lips, just two serpent like slits and a mouth full of pointy teeth. It was almost a skull, covered in dark scales with horns like those of an ox pointing at the ceiling. This is what Castiel’s sees when he looks at me. And he still thinks I’m beautiful. He still thinks I’m worth it. Do you really think that he wouldn’t be the same thing for you? “It’s different,” Sam argued, turning away from Meg’s grotesque demon face. “He loves you.”He stepped underneath the hot water stream and let it fall down his face and shoulders, closing his eyes, letting the drops hit against his tired muscles.A sudden shiver of pleasure went down his spine and a moan escaped his lips.His cock, that had softened a little after ignoring it for so long, grew stiff again.“Meg, stop doing that.” You’re very being obtuse about this. “Really? And what do you propose we do?” Well, call me an idealist. But I do believe there’s one way for the three of us to have a happy ending. Sam didn’t even call her out for that horrible pun. Somehow, it felt like she was touching on all his pleasure centers at the same time. Unable to resist, Sam lowered his hand and grabbed his cock. Slow down there, cowboy. Let me do that for you. Sam lost control of his hands, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Meg stroke him slow and teasingly at first before she began to pump him, picking up a maddening rhythm. It didn’t take long. Sam threw his head back as he cried out. The orgasm shook through him, coming out in white spurts that stained the shower’s wall.Meg sighed, satisfied. You do look so pretty when you come, Sam Winchester. If there was one thing that Sam could admire about Meg, it had to be her persistence. Hey, Sam, look over there. “We already have enough beer, Meg,” Sam answered.A woman at the end of the aisle looked at him weird and walked away fast. Sam couldn’t blame her. He had got into the bad habit of answering to Meg out loud, even though she could hear him perfectly if he just thought what he wanted to tell her. In the bunker, there was no problem, even though Dean sometimes gave him the stink eye because he didn’t like being reminded that Sam had a demon living in his head. Castiel could hear Meg even when she talked inside of his head, so it wasn’t hard for him to follow their conversations.But when Sam was in public, like buying groceries or at a bar, it was hard to remember not everyone could hear her interjections, and so it looked a lot like he was talking to himself.Sam put the coffee he was thinking about purchasing back in the shelf and grabbed the cheaper brand instead. That’s nice, but I meant that. She made him move his head towards the personal hygiene products. Meg would sometimes insist they bought a softer soap or a better tasting toothpaste. But this time, she guided Sam’s eyes to something completely different. It took him a moment to process what she was insinuating.“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re not doing that.” Why not? Come on, Sammy. Live a little. Fuck an angel. “We’ve talked about this. It’s not happening.”I’m sure he would be on board if he knew you’re on board, too, Meg insisted. Why are you being such a prude?“Meg, I swear…”He was already standing in front of the products. He didn’t know if Meg had just lead him there or if he had walked himself, too distracted arguing with her to realize what was going on. Either way, at least he was thankful she hadn’t grabbed a handful of them, tossed them in the cart and paid for them before Sam could catch on to what was going on. Well, if we’re not going to use them it would be a waste of money. “Why do you even care, anyway?” Sam asked. “The Darkness is going to take out Crowley if he keeps prodding her. We’re going to solve this. You can have a new meatsuit soon and be with Castiel.” You still haven’t figured out this is me trying to do something nice for you? “Your idea of something nice is letting me sleep with your boyfriend?”Someone gasped down the aisle. When he turned, he saw a horrified woman covering her young son’s ears and moving him along quickly. Sam’s cheeks burned and he huffed, hoping that didn’t get him kicked out of the store.Demon, Meg reminded him. We have different standards for ‘nice’. And besides, we’d be doing it together. I don’t mind sharing.“How would that even work?” It’s a crazy world we live in. That had to be the mental equivalent of a shrug.Sam sighed. It was tempting. He supposed it was redundant to say that something the literal demon in his head was proposing tempted him, but that was the only way that he could describe it. He had held unto those feelings for so long (and having Meg messing in his head had done nothing to appease them), it almost felt great to have someone telling him it was okay. That there was a way for him to have this. You’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand your entire life, Sammy. You deserve some love. The way she said it, he’d almost believe her.The cashier gave him a weird look when he put the bottle of lube (water-based, Meg’s suggestion) and the condoms on the line along with the rest of the groceries. Sam tried his best to ignore it. Castiel showed up the following night. Dean almost seemed irritated to see him.“What’s the matter? You found out something about the Darkness? Did your angels locate Rowena?”“No,” Castiel said, and even though those were very urgent matters, he seemed unconcerned for them. “I’m here to see Meg.”“Oh, of course. You have time to make lovey eyes to your girlfriend, but…”“Dean,” Sam interrupted him. He stood up, pretty aware it was Meg who was moving him now. “Let’s go somewhere private, Clarence.”Castiel followed them down the hall. Sam thought they were going to stop there, but Meg confidently opened the door to Sam’s room and they all stepped inside.Sam could feel his nerves getting to him, but thanks to Meg, his hands were steady when he put them on Castiel’s cheeks to look at him. Castiel didn’t move, his arms hanging lose at both sides of his body.“What is it? I told you he was on board.”“I would like to hear it from him, if you don’t mind.”“You wound me, Clarence.” Meg clicked Sam’s tongue but then she retreated. Sam took a deep breath. He had to talk for himself or Castiel wouldn’t go along with this. He was too respectful for it. “Yes, I want this. I want this, Cas.”To his surprise, Castiel’s hands hanged unto his shirt and pulled him down.“Why didn’t you say it sooner?”Sam didn’t know what to answer to that. Even if he had found the words, he wouldn’t have been able to get them out. Castiel’s mouth crashed against his. His lips were warmth and intoxicating and Sam was paralyzed, not knowing how to respond.Meg knew, though. She moved his hands to put one on Castiel’s face and lassoed his other arm around the angel’s waist to pull him even closer. The familiar smell of ozone, of the air before a storm invaded Sam’s nostrils and he got dizzy on it, losing himself in the sensation while Meg slid the coat of Castiel’s shoulders and moved to unbutton his shirt.“Eager,” Castiel chuckled.“What you want from me, Clarence?” Meg asked. “Oneiric sex is all fine and good. But this is what I’ve been craving.”Castiel agreed with that idea, if the way he hanged unto Sam’s shirt and pulled it to get rid of it was any indication.It was a stranger even than Sam had thought it would be. Mostly because he didn’t know anymore who was doing what. His hands were all over Castiel: grabbing unto his hair, caressing his back, fighting to unbuckle his belt. And he didn’t know (and he didn’t care) if it was Meg or him who was doing that.Castiel pushed them down on the bed and crawled on top of them, straddling them. He placed his lips on his necks and gently suck at their skin. Yes! “No!”Castiel immediately moved back and Meg let out a loud curse.“What is it?” Castiel asked, gently placing his hand on Sam’s cheek to make him look up. “What’s the problem?”Sam looked away, the embarrassment making him tongue-tied. But Meg wasn’t about to be quiet. Oh, you gotta be kidding me. He’s worried Dean will see the hickie. “It’s going to be really hard to explain, okay?” Sam groaned. “He might think Meg made me do it.” I don’t care. “I do,” Sam argued. “I don’t want him just exorcising you when I’m sleeping or something. You can do whatever you want when you get your own meatsuit.”Castiel crooked an eyebrow and Meg remained in defying silence.Sam had thought that perhaps he had killed the mood, but then Meg’s laughter echoed in his skull and Castiel smiled wickedly as he sat up to hover over Sam.“Well, perhaps… you wouldn’t be opposed to me leaving a mark where Dean isn’t likely to see it,” he commented, sliding his hand down Sam’s chest. Sam shuddered at the touch.“I… I guess we can do that…” he blurted out.Castiel’s smile grew wider. He was wearing only white boxers, but Sam still had his jeans on. With expert fingers, Castiel unbuttoned them and pulled them down along with Sam’s underwear just a little bit to expose his hip. He leaned down and gently nibbled at Sam’s skin. Come on, Clarence. We can take a little more… Meg’s moan felt like an explosion inside of Sam’s head when Castiel sank his teeth on the tender flesh. Sam buckled and screamed out as he grabbed unto the angel’s head, relishing on the feeling of his hot breath on him. Castiel looked up and smiled again satisfied.We’re fucking this angel, right now, Meg decided.Sam didn’t argue.When Castiel moved up to kiss them again, they grabbed him and rolled with him over the bed. The bed creaked underneath them and Castiel laughed as they left a trail of kisses all over his collarbone. Sam was so busy doing that, in fact, he didn’t even realize that Meg had pulled down both their boxers.This is the advantage of you having big hands, Sasquatch, she commented. She held both his and Castiel’s cocks together and pressed. The friction make both of them gasp and Meg laughed, satisfied. That’s how I like it, boys.“I’m glad… you’re enjoying yourself,” Castiel commented, between pants. “I’m sorry, I thought I overheard something about what you wanted to do to me…?”For the second time, Sam felt his resolution disappearing.“We don’t have to do that,” he said. “We can just…”He didn’t know if Castiel pulled him down or if Meg pushed him up, but suddenly he was kissing Castiel again and all of his doubts seemed to melt away. They made a brief pause to really get rid of their boxers and look for the lube and condoms they had bought. Castiel laid on his back on the bed, sprawled out and following every one of their movements with bright blue eyes. His lips were parted in anticipation when they positioned themselves between their legs.Sam knew, in theory, how this was supposed to go, but he wouldn’t have been nearly as confident if Meg hadn’t been with him to guide him. It was her who uncapped the lube, squirted a generous amount in their fingers and then, without any sort of warning, moved Castiel’s open and pushed inside of him. The angel bucked and arched his back. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with a sob that startled Sam.“Are you okay?”“Yes,” Castiel assured them, panting heavily. “Yes… I can take a little bit more…”He interrupted himself to moan when Meg started moving Sam’s fingers, curling them and massaging Castiel’s sweet spot. There had to be something blasphemous about it, Sam thought as Castiel squirmed and breathed out curses. This has to be some sort of sacrilege. And what of it? Isn’t that what’s fun about this? Of course she would think like that.Sam felt his skin covered hot and sticky, his blood almost boiling in his veins. But even though Castiel’s neck was flushed, he hadn’t broken a sweat. Meg seemed decided to change that. She added a third fingers and moved until Castiel screamed out loud.“Meg,” he muttered. “Sam… please…”Meg was already reaching for the condoms, but Sam stopped her.“Are you sure?”“Yes,” Castiel assured them. “Please… I want this…”He didn’t have to tell Meg twice. Sam thought she was being a little forceful, but then again, he was so overcome with what was going on, so eager that he couldn’t stop her. Castiel didn’t care at all. He groaned as they pushed into him and wrapped his legs around their waist. They leaned over to kiss him and slowly picked up a rhythm. Sam stopped every time they thrust in to check in with Cas, who continued to assure them he was fine, kissed back every time their lips met and hang onto their shoulders and back so tight Sam was sure they would have a bruise with the shape of his hand when all of this was over.But when the scent of rain became stronger, when Castiel’s skin began glowing warm and silver under their fingertips, Sam got completely lost in the feelings. Meg took the reins, pumping their hips rougher and faster, letting the tension build up in their lower stomach until the overwhelming waves of pleasure drowned out everything else.They close their eyes and hid their face on Castiel neck. Their fingers stroke Castiel’s cock until he too shivered and screamed out. His skin became almost too hot to the touch and Sam was sure they would have burned if it wasn’t because of Meg’s demonic resistance.They stayed there, their chests heaving and their hearts pounding fast. Even Meg had gone quiet for the moment, but Sam could feel a deep satisfaction in the back of his head, almost like a happy purring, that he was sure came from her. He closed his eyes and he would have drifted off if Castiel hadn’t tapped him in the shoulder.“Sorry,” Sam muttered, hurriedly moving aside.“It’s fine, Sam.”“Oh, no.” Sam looked down and cringed. “We’re a mess. I’m sorry. I’ll bring some towels…”Castiel waved his hand almost distractedly. When Sam looked again, both them and the sheets were clean.“Would you relax?” Castiel asked. Yeah, Sam. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want Dean to find out? What would he say if he saw you coming out of the room on woobly legs and a hickie on your side? The image was so ridiculous that Sam couldn’t hold back a smile. Castiel also chuckled and relaxed against the pillows. The bed seemed almost too small for the both of them, but when Sam snuggled closer to him, the angel put a hand around his shoulders and pulled him.It was a strange sensation. Sam was so tall that no one had that sort of protective gestures towards him. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it.Oh, now you’re gonna tell me you’d like to be the little spoon, Meg commented.“Everyone likes to be the little spoon,” Castiel argued. “It makes you feel protected.”“You two are ridiculous,” Sam complained, hiding his face on the pillow.Castiel’s chest rumbled with laughter and so did Meg’s voice in his head. He was dreaming again.He couldn’t tell what exactly had given it away. Perhaps that he had never seen a night so blue or stars so bright above his head. He wondered if constellations were like faces, if this was a night he had seen once and forgot about. He was walking barefoot on grass that was impossibly soft, on a field that was completely plane except for a single solitary hill. There was a large oak tree growing on top of it, with thousands of fireflies on its branches, lightning it up like it was Christmas. Sam approached the hill without any rush. Somehow, he knew who he was going to find there.Meg and Castiel were sitting underneath the tree. For a change, the two were dressed and wearing their human skins. Castiel had removed his coat and his tie and hanged them from the branch right above. He had his back against the trees’ trunk and a peaceful expression in his blue eyes as he watched the fireflies coming and going. Meg was lying down with her head on the angel’s lap, her eyes closed in pleasure as Castiel toyed with her hair.“Are you guys here for real?” Sam asked.“Do you think I would have a dream as boring as this?” Meg replied, moving a little to glance at him.Sam guessed that was enough of an answer.“Sit down, Sam,” Castiel invited him. “It’s a beautiful night.”It was true. As Sam left his body slide down against the tree. He leaned against Castiel, knowing that the angel would be strong enough to handle the weight of his body. Castiel stretched his hand to hold Sam’s and squeezed it tight.And three of them stayed in silence, gazing at the stars Sam almost remembered.
11315853	untitled gift fic	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Xochiquetzl", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-27T00:00:00", "words": "100", "Additional Tags": "Gift Fic", "Relationship": "Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy/Severus Snape", "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 }	“I hear congratulations are in order,” Severus said. Lucius shrugged. “It can’t be much of a surprise. Narcissa and I have been an item since school.“ He rolled his eyes. "And you know my father." Severus did know Abraxas Malfoy, the family patriarch who gave him knowing, disapproving looks whenever he saw him. "Yes.” There was an awkward silence, and then Severus said, “Well. If we’re going to be through, maybe we should make the most of what time we have left before the wedding." ”‘Through’?“ Lucius leaned closer. "Narcissa and I have discussed this. We plan on keeping you.”
11347782	What We Need Right Now	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Nikita [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2002-07-21T00:00:00", "words": "5,452", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Mpreg, Angst, Fiction, Drama, Relationship(s), Hurt/Comfort", "Relationship": "Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement", "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 }	What We Need Right Now is Trust, Part Five What We Need Right Now is Trust, Part Five by Nikita "What We Need Now is Trust, Part Five" by Nikita Spoilers: All right...there may be a FEW references to season 8, but they are few and far between...season 7 is really all you need to know. Aren't you glad? : ) Summary: No more giving away the story...you'll just have to read it and find out!! : P Series: 5/? Pairing: M/K Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files or any characters or plot lines associated with it. Chris Carter and the wonderful actors (especially David Duchovny and Nicolas Lea) do. I'm not making any profit off this story or the characters within. Don't bother suing, I'm a full time grad student with lots of student loans...I haven't got a penny. Warning: Slash, if you don't know what that means chances are you don't wanna know, go watch an x-file repeat and stay safe from my twisted version. Contains m/m hurt/comfort, romance, schmoop, and sex. And mpreg (happy now, I've spoiled the surprise!). If this squicks you go away, go away! Archive: DitB, Slashing Mulder, Gossamer. All other ask first, please. It's my baby, I'd really like to know where it ends up : ) Author's note: ^ means telepathic communication. If you aren't from St. Louis than you might not know that 'the Hill' is a section of Italian restaurants, delis, bakeries, etc. and homes full of Italians. Kind of like a Chinatown for Italians. The fire hydrants have Italian flag colors painted on them and it's a wonderful place to indulge in the best Italian food. Come visit sometime! : ) I've never been pregnant so I'm a little liberal with it. Just suspend belief if you find the pregnancy facts a little odd...after all this isn't a normal one, anyway. : ) First of all it's a guy, second it's not completely human! Also, I've decided to make the time September. I don't care what month they say Mulder was abducted in or how long they were on the ships...just note that it is September 2000 now. Okay? And now...on with the show... XXX 9:45 a.m. 42 Hegal Place Saturday September 9th They headed over to Mulder's apartment the next morning after breakfast. Carrying cardboard boxes, they let themselves in using Scully's key, which she'd given them the night before. "So, where do you want to start?" Alex asked, walking through the living room and setting down his stack of folded cardboard boxes. Mulder set his down and sighed. "Well, the bedroom's the worst, boxes of files and journals..." Alex raised an eyebrow and went to look for himself. Opening the door he saw a waterbed and night stand and boxes and boxes and . . . boxes of dusty files. A stack of newspapers and a stack of magazines were in a corner. The waterbed itself was not in use, it was drained. There was dust everywhere. Walking back into the living room he eyed his lover sitting on the couch sorting through magazines on the coffee table. Mulder looked up sheepishly. "Well?" Alex glared at him. "What? How can you - ?" Mulder grinned, "It's research. Work. Actually, it's not as bad as it used to be. I used to 'only' have files in there. No bed at all." Alex frowned further, "Then why is there a waterbed in there?" " 'That' is the mystery. My own personal X-file. One day I came home and the room was cleared of files and there was a waterbed with leopard sheets and a mirror on the ceiling." Alex stared at him, the wrinkle above his nose deepening. "Who put that there, then? A girlfriend? Boyfriend. . .?" He was starting to get jealous. Never mind he wasn't with Fox then. Mulder chuckled, "None that I'M aware of. It was just there. No note, nothing. I was pissed to find my files gone. Until I found them stashed in the basement storage. Then I decided to just enjoy it. . .after I checked it thoroughly for bombs and bugs, of course." Alex relaxed, "Of course." Who wouldn't check their bed for bombs or bugs? "So, what happened then? It looks like you haven't used it in a long time. And I hate to break it to you, but the files are back." Mulder sat back and smiled. "I know. Well, one day it sprung a leak and it ruined my floor and the ceiling of the apartment below me. Huge pain in the ass. Landlord told me I couldn't have a waterbed, anyway. So I just went back to the couch." Mulder went back to his organizing. Alex watched him with a wry grin. 'Typical Mulder. Don't go out and get a regular bed, just sleep on the couch again and use the room for more important things like cataloging National Enquirer stories on vampires.' They spent the rest of the day cleaning and packing. Trying to get it done as quickly as possible. They ordered pizza for lunch. And wings, of course. Mulder munched away, pizza slice in one hand and tapping away at his keyboard with the other as he checked his files. Alex, meanwhile, had swept the place for bugs first thing when they'd come that morning. He hadn't found any. Either there was no one left that cared enough to listen or anyone left thought Mulder was still on the ship or dead. Even so, he had come to the conclusion that he would have to check out the situation here in D.C. He needed to know if there was anyone left here and if they would be trouble. Mulder's visit to the F.B.I. yesterday would have spread the word that he was back, alive and well. He didn't want to mention it to Mulder, yet. Wait until Scully met with them later that evening and see if there was any bad news. Make sure Mulder was okay. . .and then leave him with Scully to watch his back while Alex checked things out. Scully wasn't quite the same as having his own eye on Mulder, but she was the best one he could think of. She was fiercely loyal, protective, and a damn good shot. She'd just have to do. Alex looked up from his packing to watch Mulder. He'd moved on to packing up the disks and laptop he wanted to take back with them. So far, except for some clothes, that seemed to be all Mulder wanted to keep. He was glad Mulder was able to leave most of his belongings behind. Packing light was always best for being on the run. And who knew if they might soon be. Depended on what he found out tonight. X^X^X^X 10:00 p.m. They collapsed onto the bed too tired to move. They were both fully dressed and on top of the covers. Shoes still on their feet. Alex managed to find the energy to turn on to his side and with his head propped up he looked at Fox. "Wha - " Mulder yawned. Alex smiled gently at him. "Nothing. . ." "Mmmmhhhmmm. . ." Mulder said tiredly, eyes closing. "You know, Scully's going to be here soon." "Mmmhmmm." "Lisa, I need to - " Alex was interrupted by a knock at the door. Damn the woman, she always knew when to interrupt. He got up and with his hand on his gun checked the peephole and then let her in. Scully gave him a short nod and swept past him and into the room. Alex closed the door, locking and bolting it again. Mulder sat up on the bed, looking more alert than earlier. He was nervous. "So, what's the verdict, doc?" Scully dragged a chair over by the bed and sat down. "Well, there are some anomalies in your blood that I just never noticed before. They are so slight and don't mean anything in and of themselves, but when you put them all together it does appear that there is something 'different' about your blood. . . I don't understand how I could have missed it before. . . I've studied your blood before, but. . ." Scully trailed off, looking at her paperwork and becoming absorbed with her findings again. Alex snorted quietly to himself. 'She's more worried about how she could have missed something than if he's okay. . .' "Aa-hem, so Scully, is he okay, or what? Are these 'anomalies' going to cause him any problems, or - " Alex lifted his eyebrows at her. Scully glared up at him from her file. "Well, I need to do more tests, obviously, but-" Mulder decided he'd had enough of them talking about him like he wasn't in the room. "BUT, not now. I'm tired and if you don't see anything wrong. . ." Scully sighed. "Mulder-" "No. I've had about all the poking around I can stand right now. Later." Scully pursed her lips, making it plain that she thought that was a foolish decision, but she accepted it. "All right, no blood tests for now. But you do need to be checked up on through the rest of the pregnancy and there are other tests that you'll need." Scully hoped he wouldn't be stubborn about this. . . it was too important. "I know, Scully. Just no more tests right now." Mulder patted her hand, not wanting her to think he was putting 'her' off. Alex figured that now was as good as time as any. "Well, I'm sure you two would like to catch up and I have some errands to run. . ." Alex started for the door. Mulder stood up in shock, "Wait! What errands? Where are you going?" Alex grimaced; he'd known it wouldn't be that easy. "Fox, I need to check some things out. Make sure it's safe around here. I should have done it sooner, but. . ." "But you wanted me to have a babysitter, right?" Mulder asked bitterly. "No, no, don't say that Fox. I just didn't want to leave you all alone and I also figured you'd want some time with Scully. . ." Alex pleaded for understanding with his eyes. Mulder was still resentful and damned worried, but he took a deep breath and shoved it aside to say, "Okay. I overreacted. But you should have said something sooner." "I meant to. Sorry." Alex gave him a peck on the cheek. "I've got my cell phone. Call if you need to. I may not answer it right away. . ." Mulder nodded. "I understand. . . go on, but be careful." Alex felt his heart swell a little at that. He'd never had anyone concerned about his safety when dealing with the consortium before. He felt touched. . . and also nervous. He better be careful, for Mulder's sake. He kissed Fox again, this time on the lips and slid out the door with a meaningful glance at Scully. Scully nodded at him and he was relieved as he walked to the elevator. Mulder watched him stride down the hall pulling on his leather jacket. Closing the hotel door and turning back to Scully he tried not to let his worry show too much. He had a feeling he wasn't too successful. "Don't worry so much, Mulder. He's good at what he does." She managed to say it without scorn far easier than she would have thought she could. Krycek was starting to grow on her. She still wanted to question him about Melissa, though. She knew he wasn't completely innocent. "Not completely, but he didn't shoot her." Scully looked at him in surprise. "What?" Mulder smiled a little and sat next to her once more. "It came back, the telepathy. Not as bad, I have more control over it now. Some of it was the aliens, some of it is my own since I had nothing better to do than to learn how to focus it and block out as much as I could. I'm not always successful, especially when I'm stressed. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. . ." Scully the skeptic raised an eyebrow, but kept her opinion to herself. 'Could have been a fluke. . .' "Nope." Mulder was grinning widely now, enjoying being with Scully again for the first time since he'd seen her the last few days. Scully frowned, "Mulder - " "All right, Scully. How about we try some of those tests we did with Gibson Praise then. . ." Mulder spent the next hour proving it to her until finally she conceded that he 'may' have telepathic abilities. . . if such a thing existed. Mulder rolled his eyes and decided that was as good as he was likely to get from her for now. He was starting to remember the intense frustration that came with being her partner sometimes. He appreciated Alex's open mind all the more. He decided he needed to get back to the original subject that Scully seemed to be avoiding discussing with him. "Scully, he didn't shoot her. You know that Cardinal did." Scully didn't want to get into this with Mulder. It was plain that he saw no fault in Alex Krycek. "That's not true. He's as flawed as the next person. He did do some pretty dirty work in his time, but he realized his mistake in trusting Spender and when he learned of what was really going on he turned to the rebellion." "Mulder. . ." Scully ignored the fact that he'd read her mind AGAIN and focused on trying to get through to him, ". . .just because he didn't pull the trigger. . ." "He was there. He didn't know they were there to assassinate, though. Cardinal was in charge of the mission and he told Alex that they were to get the DAT tape. Nothing more. Then Cardinal just shot the first woman to enter the apartment. He knew then that he'd been lied to and he KNEW it was the wrong woman. He couldn't do anything about it, though. He wasn't all that high up in the organization then. Little more than a hired gun. And he regrets what happened. He had nightmares about it for a long time. He still doesn't forgive himself for it and he knows you have every reason to hate him." Scully's shoulders slumped. She's wanted to blame Krycek. Truly thought he'd deserved it. And he did, in a way. But she couldn't hate him blindly now or think him a monster. He was a human being. He seemed to genuinely care for Mulder. She didn't trust him. . . not by a long shot. But maybe. . . Mulder recognized it for the victory it was. "I forgave him for my father, Scully." Scully looked at him in surprise. "My father was dirty. In the consortium from the beginning. He knew full well what happened to my sister and he not only knew about the experiments on both Samantha and myself, but he was the one that gave us to them. He fully supported the project. He used his own children as pawns in a game. And he. . .well, he wasn't a good father, all right. He hit Samantha once. . .and me. I tried to keep him from hitting her after that one time and luckily he stopped. Just hit me. My mom was never there to see it. Conveniently. She'd take me to the hospital when I 'fell out of trees' 'fell down the stairs' I was a clumsy kid. Got worse once Samantha was gone. But despite all that. . . I still loved the bastard, he was my father. . .but I understand that it was his own complicity with the consortium that got him killed. Alex was assigned to eliminate him and he did. He did it before dad could tell me anything. . . and Alex knew that he had to kill him before he told me anything useful or he'd be told to kill me next. So really, he saved my life that night. And you saved his by stopping me from killing him that night." Scully sat quietly listening to Mulder. She'd guessed at the physical abuse by his father. Not that he'd ever told her, but there had been little clues and signs and she'd wondered. As for his mother, she'd never liked Tina Mulder much. Such a cold woman, acting like she knew NOTHING about what her husband had been up to and yet so obviously involved with Spender. And she hadn't shot her partner to save Krycek, she'd done it for Mulder. Still, maybe she could learn to live with Alex in Mulder's life. It probably wouldn't last. He'd leave Mulder soon enough or betray him. . . Mulder sighed and withdrawing his hand from hers he stood up and paced the room, avoiding her eyes. She didn't believe in telepathy, but. . . "All right, Mulder. If YOU trust him, I'll trust him. To a point. If he hurts you, though. . ." Mulder grinned, but continued to pace, "I'll sic you on him." Scully grinned a little. She was glad to be with Mulder. . .God, she'd been so wrapped up in the whole Krycek, baby thing that it hadn't really dawned on her just how long he'd been missing or how much she missed him. She stood up and went over to him, pulling him out of his pacing rhythm and into a hug. She squeezed him as hard as she could. "Ugh, Scully, a little air. . ." Mulder was startled, but happy at her exuberance. "Oh! Sorry, I forgot. . ." she loosened her embrace, mindful of his belly. His belly, he was carrying a child. Something she wasn't any longer. . . "Mulder - " "What's wrong? Are you okay?" Mulder was suddenly anxious. "Yes. I'm fine, Mulder. It's just. . .when you- when I went in for tests after I got back from Oregon. . ." Mulder tightened his grip on her elbows, then guided her to a chair. "Yes?" "I. . . found out I was pregnant." Scully focused her gaze on her lap. Mulder glanced down at her flat stomach. "Oh, Scully. . ." "I lost it a month and half later. They're not really sure, maybe stress and well, they were going to examine the. . .well, the fetus disappeared, and it wasn't a natural pregnancy anyway so there's no way of knowing if I could have held it to term anyway. . ." Mulder pulled her back into an embrace. "Oh, Scully. I'm so sorry. . ." He wondered if she would be better off if he left. Not burdening her with helping him during his own pregnancy. It had to be difficult to see your partner, a MAN having a baby when you couldn't and when you'd lost your only chance. . .and it was his fault. She'd been abducted in the first place because of him and lost her baby maybe because of the stress of 'his' abduction. Scully pulled back and looked at Mulder, she knew what he must be thinking, he always felt guilty about things that weren't his fault and he was so protective of her. It was only fair that her own protectiveness was just as strong for him. "Mulder. I don't know who's baby it was. I wasn't involved with anyone. I'm infertile and. . .god knows HOW it got there. Quite frankly it was probably better that it happened the way it did. What if it was another Emily? I don't know. . .and anyway, I've come to terms with it. As for you. I want to make sure you don't have any problems with your own. That's why I'm so worried about you and I want to take more tests-" "All right, all right, I give! You can have all the tests you want. Just not this second, okay?" Mulder smiled slightly, relieved she seemed okay. He knew she wasn't completely all right, but she was resilient and so strong. Stronger than him, he knew. She'd gone through her ordeal on her own, he had Alex. "Scully, did your family know?" "My mom. She was great about it. Actually, I feel worse for her. She was so thrilled about another grandbaby. But I couldn't have made it without her. And Skinner." "Skinner?" "Yeah. I told him as soon as I'd found out and when he came back from- he was extremely supportive. Made me take time off when he thought I looked too tired. Even offered to be there for me if I needed him, you know, doctors' visits, whatever. Mulder, he felt horribly guilty for what happened in that night in the forest. . ." "It wasn't his fault. It was mine. I just. . .it's hazy. I wondered into this. . .light and the other abductees were there and. . .the bounty hunter. His face is the last thing I remember until I woke up on the. . .well it's not important. Skinner had nothing to do with it. I hope he realizes that." "I don't know. . . He cried. He actually cried when he told me that he had lost you. He didn't do that again in front of me, but there were times. . ." "What?" "Well, he was so tired looking at work. Distracted at times. Not too much, but I noticed and I'm sure other did, too. And once. . .he came by to check on me and I thought, maybe I smelt alcohol on him. It just seemed so out of character. . .but lately he's been better. More focused. And I'm sure seeing you are okay helped. He's a strong man. He'll be okay." Mulder was stunned that Skinner would have been so affected by his abduction. Scully had told him that Skinner admitted to seeing the ship that took him. Mulder knew firsthand how awesome a sight they presented. Skinner had never really believed Mulder about aliens before; he guessed that having his beliefs shattered like that had affected him pretty strongly. Mulder glanced at the clock and realized Alex had been gone for 3 hours now. He hadn't told him when he'd be back, but surely he wouldn't be much longer. It was after 1 o'clock in the morning. They had both been working hard packing up his apartment. Scully noticed his glance. "Did he mention when he might be back?" "No. It's late, Scully, maybe you should go on to bed, I'll be fine." "Oh, no. Mama Krycek will have my neck. Besides, this isn't late. You've called me at home later than this to talk about cases." Mulder appreciated her attempts to cheer him up, but it wasn't going to happen until he saw Alex in one piece in front of him. He'd hug him and then shake him. 'Stupid man, making me worry at this time of night. . .' They waited another hour and a half, talking quietly about less weighty matters. Mulder asked her about her family and Scully asked about what he'd do with the rest of his things at his apartment. Suddenly there was a rapid knocking on the door. Scully got to it first by chance. Checking the peephole she opened the door and let Alex in. Alex passed her with a nod and walked over to Fox giving him a peck on the cheek. Mulder glanced over his lover, making sure no body parts were missing again and then growled at him, "where in the HELL have you been?" "Told ya. Had to check on some things. . ." Alex's words economical. He was panting slightly. "Alex? Alex, what's wrong?!" Mulder gripped his lover by the edges of his jacket that he noticed his lover had made no attempt in removing. Alex winced. "Okay, okay, but don't freak out on me, Lisa." He opened his jacket enough to reveal a hole in his shirt and blood seeping around it. Scully quickly moved Alex onto the bed, motioning for him to remove his jacket and lay down. She grabbed her black bag she'd brought (for Mulder). Mulder helped Alex remove the jacket with minimal movement. "What happened?!" Mulder demanded. "Relax, Lisa. Just a little mugging attempt. I handled it." Scully looked up from her task of cleaning the wound. "HOW did you handle it?" Alex grimaced at her handling. "Nothing bad. Just tied the fucker up and left him on the police doorstep with his little collection of wallets. He's in one piece. Or he was when I left. . ." Mulder just gripped Alex's shoulders harder. So relieved his lover was okay. If anything had happened to him. . .he'd kill whomever hurt Alex. He let Alex know this through the link. Alex looked up to him and smiled a little. ^Oh, you would, huh? ^Definitely. Mulder's 'thought' was a growl in Alex's mind. ^Hmmm. You're making me hot. Cut it out until Scully leaves and I can do something about it. Mulder chuckled and ran his hand through Alex's sweaty hair. Scully looked up a little startled to hear Mulder chuckling and noticed his gesture to Alex. She figured she better finish quickly and go. "All right. I put a couple of stitches. No big deal. Mulder, you know the drill, I don't have to tell you, do I?" " 'Course not. Will you be okay getting home?" "I'm a big girl, Mulder. Goodnight." She left as efficiently as possible, trying not to think about what might happen as soon as left. Mulder bolted the door after her and sat back down on the bed. "All right. She's gone. Want to tell me what really happened?" Alex's eyes had been closed, now one clear green eye opened and looked at Mulder. "Damn. I can't get away with anything now, can I? All right. One of my contacts was just a LITTLE upset that I wasn't dead like he thought I was. I was doing fine until he got a little lucky with the knife. But it's over now and I'm fine. Okay?" "And why the lie?" Mulder didn't really have to ask, just wanted to be sure. "I knew you would guess I wasn't telling the truth, but I couldn't very well confess to a murder in front of a federal agent, now could I?" "If it was self-defense. . ." "Yeah, well, no need for her to have something to look into. She doesn't need to know." Alex closed his eyes again and although he was still a little worried about Mulder's reaction, he couldn't help feeling relieved to be back in their room and with Mulder again. Mulder sank down next to him on the bed, stretching out and laying his head on Alex's shoulder. "I TOLD you to be careful." "Mmmmhmmm." "Rat bastard." "Mmmhmmm." "MY rat bastard." "MMMMhMMM. Can we get some sleep now? If I'm a rat bastard then YOU are a pack rat. I need some rest before we go rooting around in your junk again." They fell asleep with their clothes on, curled up together and dead to the world. XXX They woke up late the next day. By 11:00 they finally staggered into Mulder's apartment to get to work. As they let themselves in they heard voices. Alex drew his gun and pushed Mulder back, who glowered, but let him play He-man. Alex kicked the door open and scared the shit out of three computer geeks and Scully. "Shit! What the hell-" Alex sputtered. Scully, recovered from her shock and raised her eyebrow as she folded her hands across her chest. "Well, it's about time you two dragged your sorry butts out of bed, we've been here for hours." She turned back to the kitchen cabinets that she was cleaning out, not that there was much there for her to clean out. She was wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt, bandanna keeping her hair back. The three Gunmen were unplugging Mulder's computer and entertainment system. They resumed their work after a glare from Scully got them going again. Mulder brushed past his pissed off lover and joined Scully in the kitchen. "You didn't have to do this. . ." Scully smiled, "We wanted to do SOMETHING for you and I figured you guys could use a little help today. Those three have been pestering me for information so I told them they could interrogate you themselves if they came and helped. Fat lot of help they are, too. Langly's been playing games on your computer and Frohike's been 'dusting' your porn collection. Byers seems to be reluctant to get messy, so I'm doing all the work." Scully went back to her task. Mulder went back into the living room where Alex was glowering at the lone gunmen, who in turn were cowering over their work, flicking panicked looks out the corners of their eyes. "Relax. This'll get it done faster. We'll be home that much quicker, okay?" Mulder rubbed Alex's shoulders from behind and the Gunmen suddenly found something very interesting about their tasks as they struggled not to stare. The two men got to work, breaking for a late lunch with the rest of them. The Lone Gunmen happily prattled to Mulder about the conspiracies they'd dug up over the last few months, avoiding UFO talk for once and they all three avoided eye contact with Alex. Scully stayed quiet listening to Mulder and his friends chatter, not knowing what to say to Krycek. When they were finished for the day, Mulder took the bags he was bringing back home with him and Alex and he returned to the hotel. He'd said his goodbyes to the lone gunmen and Scully. He'd given Scully his address and how to contact him, but it was understood that it was only for emergencies. Mulder also had to promise repeatedly to contact her if anything went wrong with his health. They were going to make plans for the delivery at a future date. Scully, meanwhile, was to set up the equipment and surgeon that she could trust implicitly. In the meantime, Mulder and Alex would go back to St. Louis for a few weeks and tie things up there, making excuses to family and such. Then they were heading off to a remote beach house that Alex had set up for his retirement. It was isolated and beautiful warm weather. Mulder would stay there for the last few months of pregnancy and the birth. After it was all over they could visit Alex's family with their 'adopted' child. xxx St. Louis 2:00 p.m. Back home they enjoyed their time alone together once more. They got back into their routine, swimming, reading together in bed, and going out for a drive at night. Mulder watched sports on TV, rattling off statistics during commercials to an absent minded Krycek who read the newspaper and nodded when Fox paused for a breath. He didn't like watching sports as much and he wasn't much for team sports in general. "Go! Go! Gogogogogogo!!!" Mulder shouted at the TV as a baseball player rounded the bases. Alex watched disinterestedly and then returned to the article he was reading. "Yes!! Ha ha ha!" Mulder leaped up and then leaned over and kissed Alex hard on the mouth. Alex noted that the game was over now and decided it was time they participated in a game they BOTH enjoyed. xxx October 13, 2000 Friday St. Louis 8:00 p.m. Alex and Fox let themselves into their apartment. They had gone to Mulder's favorite Italian restaurant on 'the Hill.' Mulder had been content to enjoy their quiet little candlelit dinner until Alex had leaned over and whispered that he had something special planned for dessert back home. After that they'd eaten a little faster and rushed to their car. Now Alex closed the door of their home behind them and reaching out he helped Mulder out of his jacket. Alex had been restless all evening. He'd wanted to touch Mulder all throughout dinner, but knew he couldn't dare do it in public. Now he had his lover alone and ALL to himself. He decided they'd take it slow tonight. Stripping of the jackets, they kissed as they made their way to the bedroom. Fumbling with the light so they wouldn't break their necks as they backed into the room, Mulder suddenly stiffened as he saw the bounty hunter in their room. "Alex!" Alex whipped around to face the alien who backhanded him with lightning speed. Alex went hurtling into a wall and slumped down stunned. Mulder froze for an instant, and then leaped for a weapon in the dresser drawer. The bounty hunter grabbed Mulder from behind before he could reach the handle of the drawer. As he struggled, the bounty hunter growled in his ear, "Naughty, hybrid. Did you think we would let you go? The rebels were fools to let you live. . ." The bounty hunter began to drag Mulder out the door, intent on returning him to the colonist ship hiding nearby. xxx If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Nikita
11311374	I dont think you need my	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Tsuh", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-26T00:00:00", "words": "605", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Office, hux making fun of Kylo", "Relationship": "Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars - All Media Types", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Just one week to wait and he would be gone. He loved his job but the people working with him were just useless. Hux knew he had no other choice. Snoke wanted him to lead this project, so he would do it. There was no point to discuss this order. Hux arrived in the office, always on time. Usually he was the first and he enjoyed this time alone. Today, there was already someone in there. Hux took the time to put his case in his office, one of the perks of being in charge was to have his own office. Somedays he thought it was the only good thing, especially when he had to work with Kylo. Even more when Kylo decided to make hell of his day. A coffee and he should be good to start the day. There was a sudden noise in the silent room, soon followed by a flow of curses. Kylo... Hux wanted to sigh. He thought they agreed Hux was the first to come in the office and that Kylo could only arrived thirty minutes later ? Hux had planned this for months before he agreed to see Kylo after work. Work and private life did not work together, Hux had learnt it with his father. It was one of the only rules he followed, just because it made sense. He could not afford being distracted. There was more and more noises coming from the common room. Well, he should go and see what was happening. He did not rush to the room, no, he just walked fast and certainly not because he wanted to see him. He just wanted his coffee before he had to hear people complaining all day. “Are you going to work ? Stupid machine !”It was really Kylo. What a surprise...Hux considered offering his help but decided to enjoy the view. Kylo was lying on the floor trying to reach something under a table. It seemed it was not working. The room was a mess. How did he do this in less than twenty minutes ? He could not be here for longer, he had left Hux’s appartment just an hour ago. “In trouble Ren ?” Surprised Kylo tried to stand up, just to bang his hand against the table. He looked betrayed and tried to hit the furniture. It was not his best decision and he cursed even more as he hurted himself more. After some more minutes Kylo finaly stood back. Hux smirked and decided it was time to have a little revenge.“I hope you’re going to fix this mess before anyone come in ?” Kylo was astounded. Right, it was the reaction he was looking for. Kylo looked around him. There was water and something looking like coffee all over the floor, the coffeemaker too was on the floor. Hux wanted to know what happened here but Kylo could think he cared so he did not ask.“I think you know where the mop is ?” Hux smirked seeing Kylo’s defeat. It was too easy. He leaned on the wall and watched Kylo going around the room, trying to fix his mess. “You know”, Hux said casually “I would help but making fun of you is much more satisfying.”Kylo grumbled something, too low to be heard. “I’m not sure I understand what you said Kylo. You want to clean my appartment too ? I had other plans but if you want to do some cleaning instead, who am I to say no ?”Hux did not wait Kylo’s answer and turned back, trying to hold back a smile. It seemed this day would be perfect.
11351139	Qualcosa da non	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Karim Benzema, James Rodríguez, Cristiano Ronaldo", "Fandom": "Football RPF", "Language": "Italiano", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by AkaneMikael", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "1,734", "Additional Tags": "Kames - Freeform", "Relationship": "Karim Benzema/James Rodríguez", "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 }	QUALCOSA DA NON RIMPIANGERE - Cosa gli hai detto tu? - - Che se ti amava doveva rimanere. - Quando lo dice chiaro e tondo, mi sale da dentro uno di quegli istinti omicidi che di rado mi assalgono. Di solito non sono violento, ma ora vorrei colpire Cristiano con un pugno, sebbene so che l’ha fatto per aiutarci. Stringo i pugni e scuoto la testa alzando gli occhi al cielo. Dannazione Cristiano! - Non dovevo? - Chiede capendo che non è una reazione positiva. Lo fisso di nuovo stralunato, occhi spalancati, aria furiosa. - No cazzo! - - Perché? Non è forse vero che vuoi che resti? - Chiede sostenuto fortemente convinto delle sue idee, come sempre! - Sì che lo voglio, ma non c’entra niente questo! - - Invece sì! Perché tu non glielo diresti mai, però lui deve sapere! - E così alzo plateale gli occhi in alto e allargo le braccia cercando di calmarmi mentre mi incazzo sempre di più! - Ma non è questo, non capisci? Tu non gli hai detto che io vorrei rimanesse, tu gli hai detto che se mi ama deve rimanere! Non si fa così, non deve rimanere per questo, non deve fare le sue scelte per me! Sono scelte importanti, si tratta della sua carriera, della sua vita! Io non posso essere il motivo di una scelta così importante! Mi sto tenendo fuori per fargli scegliere la cosa giusta, liberamente! E tu arrivi e gli tiri una bomba simile? Sei fuori? - Così mi vede per la prima volta alterato. Anzi. Proprio arrabbiato. Cristiano si ferma e si zittisce, sembra che addirittura ci pensi un po’, poi riattacca. - Tu non sai cosa sono le relazioni a distanza, Karim! Io sì! - - Non puoi scegliere della tua vita in base a chi ti fai in quel momento! - Ribatto duramente, fortemente sicuro di quel che dico. Anche lui lo è, però, e mette giù i pesi mentre mi viene incontro e mi punta col dito. - Non si tratta di scopate, si tratta di sentimenti, di amore! Io e Riky la facciamo funzionare perché ci amiamo davvero, ma è difficilissima, ci lasciamo tantissime volte e stiamo di merda tre quarti del tempo! - - Ma ce la fate! - Sottolineo sempre allargando le braccia, dimentico il macchinario che stavo facendo e ci fronteggiamo a muso duro, ancora convinti di quel che diciamo. - Sì, ma è dura. Hai sentito quella parte? - Non rispondo e scuoto la testa tornando all’esercizio per le braccia, lui insiste rimanendo fermo vicino a me, arrabbiato a sua volta. - Se c’è la possibilità di rimanere nella stessa squadra dovete insistere! Perché quando è vero amore, il resto passa in secondo piano! Non è facile trovare questo sentimento e voi l’avete. Non potete lasciar perdere per il calcio! James ha sempre sognato il Real ed ora voi due vi amate! - - Ma non gioca! Ed io non so cosa fare con Zizou, non posso dirgli di metterlo altrimenti lo spedisce in tribuna! - Cristiano si corruga e mi fissa senza capire questo punto, così sospiro e mi calmo amareggiandomi: - Zizou è possessivo. Me l’ha fatto notare James ed io ho visto che ha ragione. Non abbiamo una storia, però abbiamo sempre avuto questo rapporto molto forte e simbiotico e credo che… non so, abbia sviluppato una sorta di attaccamento nei miei confronti. In generale non mi fa male, anzi. Tutto quel che fa è sempre per aiutarmi o farmi stare bene, ma con James si è accanito, l’avrai notato. - Questo ha il potere di uno sparo, rimaniamo in silenzio mentre lui si siede su un macchinario senza praticarlo, io continuo col mio senza guardarlo. - Quindi… quindi i problemi che ha con lui… cioè non lo fa giocare per questo? - Mi fa male, mi fa dannatamente male pensarlo e dirlo, ma ormai non ha più senso nascondere la testa. - Ed io non posso farci niente, perché se mi intrometto, se alzo un dito in favore di James è peggio. - Cristiano si riprende ed annuisce categorico. - No no, non prendere le sue difese. Anzi! - E con questo torno a guardarlo. - Anzi cosa? - - Fai finta di essere in rotta con lui. Tu sei capace di fingere, sei bravo a nascondere. James imparerà. Vivetela di nascosto, più che potete. Se è come dici tu, questo convincerà Zidane a metterlo in campo di più. - Non dico nulla, lo guardo corrucciato mentre ripenso alla sua idea e devo ammettere che non è sciocca. In realtà ci stavo pensando anche io a non sbandierare il mio rapporto con lui e tenerlo più per me. James è molto espansivo e fisico, non è facile, ma se gli dico che è per il suo bene forse si può fare. - Spero che funzioni. - Mormoro piano poi sempre amareggiato per questa situazione di merda. Cristiano mi batte la mano sul braccio e si alza tornando ai suoi esercizi. - Comunque non dovevi intrometterti! James deve fare le scelte che sente, non deve pensare a me! - Rimbrotto ancora, convinto di quel che dico. Cristiano sospira ed annuisce paziente. - Sì, sì, certo… e poi vissero separati ed infelici, ma almeno giocando a calcio! - La sua acidità è leggenda, ma non avevo tanti dubbi in merito! Quando vado negli spogliatoi a darmi una sistemata ed un’asciugata per cominciare la sessione ufficiale con gli altri, James è arrivato da poco, ci sono anche alcuni altri che ignoro totalmente. Lui mi nota, fa un sorriso strano e torna ad immergersi nel suo borsone per tirare fuori il cambio. Sospiro, mi avvicino e gli arrivo da dietro. Io e lui siamo seduti vicini negli spogliatoi per i numeri di maglia, ma in questo caso mi piazzo dietro di lui, dritto, ed aspetto che si alzi e mi noti. Si raddrizza sentendomi e si gira, non mi faccio indietro, continuo a guardarlo e a togliergli lo spazio vitale. Ci guardiamo seri, cerca di fare un altro sorriso forzato, ha capito che so. Sa che io e Cris ci alleniamo un po’ insieme prima di cominciare con gli altri. I nostri occhi si agganciano e non ci separiamo, il resto dei nostri compagni e del chiasso che lento ingigantisce, è un contorno che non notiamo. Comunichiamo in questo strano modo finché mi decido a dire qualcosa prima che la mia bocca finisca automaticamente sulla sua, dove solitamente deve stare. - Dobbiamo parlare, puoi venire un momento? - Solitamente non faccio domande, ma adesso ho un tono diverso. Non so bene cosa gli dirò. Lui si mordicchia la bocca e coi suoi grandi occhi da cerbiatto annuisce convinto d’aver fatto qualcosa. Mi avvio per primo, ma in corridoio sento la voce di Zizou che parla con qualcuno, così mi fermo di colpo e gli dico di aspettare qualche minuto e di raggiungermi in piscina. A quest’ora di solito è libera. Lui non capisce ma annuisce ed aspetta. Esco per primo, incontro Zizou e lo saluto con un sorriso, mi fa una carezza senza pensarci mentre parla al telefono e va oltre. James mi raggiunge in piscina, vuota come pensavo. Mi trova seduto su una delle panchine ai bordi, non mi tolgo le scarpe e non immergo i piedi, ma James chiaramente è la prima cosa che fa ed io sorrido guardandolo. - Hai deciso di nasconderci a Zizou? - Lui lo chiamerebbe mister o Zidane, ma visto che io lo chiamo sempre Zizou, lo fa anche lui. Annuisco come se me ne vergognassi, lui si siede al bordo della piscina, poco più avanti di me, ed immerge i piedi nell’acqua liscia e limpida. Le voci rimbombano un po’, guardo la sua nuca ma poco dopo si gira torcendosi tutto in un modo quasi infantile, sorrido dolcemente e sospiro rassegnandomi a togliermi le scarpe a mia volta. Mi siedo poi dietro di lui, una gamba per parte e lui in mezzo, i piedi in acqua come i suoi ad intrecciarsi insieme, lo avvolgo da dietro con le braccia, lo stringo forte, chiudo gli occhi e mi abbandono a questa meravigliosa sensazione. Appoggio le labbra sulla sua guancia e lo bacio, rimango così per un momento e lui si adagia su di me, rilassato. È un momento bellissimo e forse non dovrei dire nulla, però devo un po’ raddrizzare il tiro di Cris. - Sarei felicissimo se tu rimanessi, ma voglio che tu non abbia rimpianti e che faccia quel che vuoi, sempre. - Silenzio, lui gira meglio la testa, appoggia la nuca sulla mia spalla e mi guarda da così vicino. Io lo sguardo sull’acqua davanti a noi. - Non scegliere in base ai sentimenti e alle persone, ma solo ai tuoi desideri. È una scelta di lavoro, sii pragmatico ok? Non usare il cuore, ma la testa. Non… - La voce mi tira. - non pensare a me, solo ad essere felice a calcio. - Anche se vorrei implorarlo di rimanere. Sento un pugno allo stomaco e gli occhi mi bruciano, ma resisto stoico. Lui mi scruta togliendomi il fiato, alla fine si decide a parlare. - Sono felice se sono con la persona che amo e che mi ama. - Non me lo sta dicendo e non me lo sta chiedendo. Ma se non glielo dicessi, se non glielo dicessi ora, credo che morirei. Così giro anche io lo sguardo e finalmente nei suoi occhi glielo dico ed è la prima volta. - Ti amo, James. - Non l’ho mai detto ad anima viva e non so se lo dirò mai più, però penso che questo l’avrei rimpianto, un giorno. Lo sento tremare fra le mie braccia e tremo anche io, mi sento strano a dirlo, quasi stupido, ma poi lui piange e rende tutto perfetto. Così alza i piedi dall’acqua per girarsi, li appoggia oltre la mia gamba come se lo tenessi in braccio, mi avvolge con le braccia e nasconde il viso contro il mio collo abbracciandomi forte. Lo faccio anche io e questa sua risposta è bellissima, anche se è ancora meglio quando alza il volto, mi guarda e piangendo puro come sempre, mormora: - Ti amo anche io. E se mollassi ora, proprio ora, questo sì che lo rimpiangerei! - Con questo un peso enorme si toglie e mi sento di nuovo leggero e felice, gli metto una mano sulla guancia, l’accarezzo e poi senza aggiungere altro lo bacio. Le labbra si intrecciano, si aprono e ci accogliamo con le lingue che si fondono e giocano subito insieme. È uno di quei momenti perfetti ed anche se prima volevo dare un pugno a Cris, credo che lo ringrazierò. Penso che mi abbia appena regalato altri sei mesi di paradiso.
11323197	Companion	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Huang Zi Tao \| Z.Tao, Kim Joonmyun \| Suho", "Fandom": "EXO (Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by smarmsi", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-27T00:00:00", "words": "766", "Additional Tags": "Vampire Kim Joonmyun \| Suho, Prince Kim Joonmyun \| Suho, the entire fic is just one conversation, this was written before Zi Tao's departure from EXO", "Relationship": "Huang Zi Tao \| Z.Tao & Kim Joonmyun \| Suho", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Old EXO Drabbles From Tumblr", "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 }	The cup is warm as Junmyeon sips delicately at the liquid contents. Coffee slips and slides down his throat, tasting of relief. He’s tempted to gulp desperately, but they’re in public, and that would be indecent. A cold wind picks up, and he grips his nondescript paper cup tighter. Even wearing four layers, Junmyeon will always be cold. Hands that aren’t his own fiddle with his burgundy scarf, wrapping it tighter beneath his chin.“I don’t know why you insist on drinking coffee. It’s not like it does anything for you,” Tao complains, now on to pulling Junmyeon’s coat tighter, trying in vain to button it closed over the thick sweater and jacket that he had insisted Junmyeon wear.“It’s warm,” Junmyeon replies. Tao scoffs.“So is inside,” he mutters, hands still fluttering around in Junmyeon’s space. Junmyeon reaches up with the hand not gripping his coffee and takes hold of one. Even through gloves, Junmyeon can feel Tao’s heat. Tao isn’t nearly as bundled up as Junmyeon is, but that’s to be expected. The blood coursing through Tao’s veins keeps him burning like the embers of a fire, one Junmyeon remembers the taste of vividly, thick and hot on his tongue, down his throat, spreading through his body.“I don’t want to go back yet,” he says quietly, and Tao hears the words he doesn’t speak. I’m not ready.“Okay.” I know. “But I’ll be beside you when you do.” I’ll be beside you when you are. They walk on in silence, enjoying the gray weather of the park.“Do…Do you think he’s mad?” Junmyeon hesitates. His coffee has gone cold but Tao’s hand is still warm.“I think he’s just tired,” Tao answers. “He’s very old, he’s been ruling for a long time.”For as long as Junmyeon has known Tao, the man has smelled like cinnamon and leather. Junmyeon can remember the thick smell of the guild where they met, oil and lime and smoke creating a haze in the air. Tao’s dark eyes had caught him in that haze, unforgettable even with centuries hidden behind Junmyeon’s eyelids. Now, centuries later, those dark eyes still hold Junmyeon captive, Tao’s scent wrapping around him with familiar warmth to calm him.“Why can’t Kyungsoo do it? He’d do a better job than me.”“That’s not true and you know it. Kyungsoo is younger than you by a few centuries. The Council has decreed that an heir must have lived a millennium as—”“As one of our kind before ascending the throne, yes, I know. But Minseok’s also the Head of his precious Council, so I don’t see why he can’t change it. Or just wait for Kyungsoo to grow up,” Junmyeon huffs out.“Kyungsoo is also subject to his passions. He is not a suitable leader,” Tao says, and Junmyeon growls, eyes beginning to bleed red in anger. Tao just rolls his eyes and pulls Junmyeon into his embrace. The warmth immediately soothes Junmyeon, enough to make him slump and bury his face in the furnace of Tao’s chest. “I don’t intend to fight with you,” Tao whispers. “I understand you are afraid. This is a frightening thing to be asked of you. But you must understand that you are ready for this.” Junmyeon burrows further into Tao’s warmth, trying desperately to ignore him. “You are. You are nearing a thousand years old, and Minseok has taught you everything. You are his heir, Junmyeon. He believes you are ready, and he is very rarely wrong about anything.”After nearly seven hundred years, Junmyeon has shattered in Tao’s arms countless times, and Tao has put him back together countless more, always keeping a bit of Junmyeon and adding a bit of himself when he does.Junmyeon shatters a little now, looking up at those dark eyes. Everything in him—emotions, thoughts, fears, dreams—threatens to spill out through the cracks, but Tao already knows all of him, has seen all of him.Junmyeon has always thought that kissing Tao was like coming home. Even now, with a chilly wind dancing its way up Junmyeon’s spine, Tao’s lips are a warm hearth fire. Time slips from his grasp as Tao holds him close, heat taking seconds, centuries, to spread across his body like a wildfire. Junmyeon can feel the steady beat of Tao’s heart in his strong chest, ferrous liquid pushing in his veins, giving him life. He wants to taste, so badly. But he pulls away from Tao’s warmth reluctantly, already feeling the cold once more.“I think I’m ready,” he says, and Tao smiles.
11344206	The Fields of Summer	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Severus Snape, Lily Evans Potter, James Potter", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by genericpseudonyms", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "8,993", "Additional Tags": "Character Death, Unrequited Love", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter", "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 }	Dying was not at all like what Severus Snape had imagined. He had hoped—perhaps naively, considering his lot in life—that he might die like Albus had: Clear-eyed, with minimal suffering. Here one minute, gone the next in a flash of green. The last thing he had wanted was to linger. Still, there were worse ways to go. There was no pain, despite the thick coppery tang of blood filling his mouth, and the horrible wheezing coming from his throat. An ironic benefit of Nagini’s poison. It had coursed through his veins like liquid fire until every inch of his skin flushed with fever. Then it had settled, turning his blood to lead as it pinned him to the rotting floorboards of the Shrieking Shack. Forgive me. Exactly whose forgiveness he was asking, Snape wasn’t entirely sure. No one. Everyone. One person in particular. He remembered the grass tickling the soles of his bare feet. The sweet, heady scent of asphodel and wormwood in the fields behind his childhood home. The particles of dust waltzing through beams of sunlight filtering in through the library window. The way the light stained her skin gold as the smell of dusty tomes filled his nostrils. The feel of his stomach clenching at the sharp whistle of the Hogwarts Express. The agony of her cool hand cupped around his ear, her warm breath whispering secrets. The pleasant bubbling of a cauldron and the tightness in his chest when he first realized that Amortentia would always smell like her perfume. His past was bleeding into the present, just as his future was bleeding out of the gaping wound in his neck. If he had breath to spare, Snape would have laughed. Death, he mused, had a way of bending time to its will. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there, or how long he’d have to relive his regrets. His only concept of time was how very little of it was left. But at some point, he realized he was no longer alone. Someone was propping him up, shaking his shoulders gently. "Professor…" It was the boy. All at once, the haze of Nagini’s poison lifted. Snape saw himself rushing through the halls, looking for the Boy Who Lived, his chest heavy with the fear that once again, he was too late. And now here he was. The boy was thinner than when he’d last glimpsed him in the woods. And his eyes—her eyes—were older. Briefly, Snape wondered what Lily would say if she could see her son now. And what she would say to him for his role in shepherding the boy to his death. Fisting his fingers in the boy’s shirt, Snape forced himself upright. A clever man might have found another way. A braver man would’ve told the boy everything while he still had the chance. Snape swallowed. He had never been brave or clever when it counted. You could be now. The fields behind the mill—the first place he’d ever laid eyes on her. The thrill of holding her hand that first September on the Hogwarts Express. His humiliation when she refused his apology. Cold, bespectacled gray eyes when he’d begged for their lives on his knees. For the boy’s life. The years he spent scraping together whatever dignity he had left. His rage in Albus’ office when it all became clear just how useless his efforts had been. One by one he plucked the shattered fragments from his mind and let them go. He watched the silvery wisps curl through the air, carrying with them the last of his strength. "My memories," he rasped. "Take them." For a second, he saw pity in the boy’s eyes. Just a few hours ago, that would have irked him. "Look at me." The boy’s eyes were a brilliant shade of emerald green. He couldn’t explain why, but that comforted him. His forgetfulness should have upset him. Instead, Snape felt himself fade into those emerald depths, his soul slipping free of the weight of the past twenty years. — The rain fell in thick globs, plastering his hair to his skin. Around them, the air crackled with the promise of thunder. The wind whipped through the tall grass, and jagged white fingers of electricity streaked through a purple-black sky. It was like nature was mocking him. When he was small, in the days before his father left, his mother used to scoop him up onto her lap during summer storms. They’d sit by the window in the kitchen, tracing old runes into the condensation. He wasn’t sure why he’d told her that. Maybe because Fifth Year was looming and this was the only way he knew how to keep her close. “Do you miss him?” He shrugged, wiping away his hair—and maybe some tears—with the back of his hand. “He doesn’t miss us.” Her hand found his, her tiny fingers slipping into the spaces between his. Somehow, her skin was still cool despite the rare sticky heat. Though, it could have easily been the blush from his cheeks. Suddenly, he was glad for the rain. “Well I’ll miss you. Even if you are the biggest jerk this side of Manchester.” “You’re only going for a week.” “Yeah,” she scrunched her nose. Not for the first time, he noticed her freckles reminded him of constellations in the night sky. “But it’s a family vacation with Petunia.” “We should probably go back inside.” “Aw, Sev. We’re leaving tomorrow and I won’t see you until school starts.” She poked him in the rib. Despite his best efforts, he felt the corner of his lip quirk and was rewarded with the sound of her laughter. “Besides, a bit of rain never hurt anybody.” — He woke up to his forehead smacking against the window of the Hogwarts Express. He supposed he had fallen asleep that way, curled up with his head against the cool glass, his neck bent at an odd angle. The train was strangely quiet. In all his years, he’d never been able to sleep on the ride home. Students chattering about summer plans, promising to send owls or make arrangements for trips to buy school supplies at Diagon Alley. The air had always been thick with conversations that had no room for him. But what really kept him up was the dread of returning home—a place with no friends, no magic, and nothing to distract him from the truth of his circumstances. The ride home after seventh year had been the happiest. He’d left behind nothing in that rickety house, and now that he was a grown wizard, he had no reason to return. He had already found a flat with his friends, and finding a job was unnecessary because... Snape blinked. He hadn’t been a student in over twenty years. Glancing out the window, Snape furrowed his brows. Outside, there was no British countryside with its rolling hills and gray skies. There was only the dark walls and bloodstained floorboards of the Shrieking Shack. In the middle of the room stood the boy, Weasley and Granger, their eyes wide with shock at the body on the floor. His body. Snape’s hand flew to his neck. He remembered the sting of fangs sinking into his skin, the gush of blood oozing from the wound. But when he pulled his fingers away they were clean. “It can be a bit of a shock at first.” He swallowed. There, sitting across from him, was Albus Dumbledore in all his glory. His white beard; eyes that crinkled at the corners; half-moon glasses with dirty lenses. Everything was just as he remembered—all, except the hand that should have been charred black. Dumbledore followed his gaze and chuckled. “I don’t understand,” he said. His voice sounded hollow, almost as if it didn’t belong to him. “You’re dead.” “So are you, Severus.” “I know, but…” he paused. There were so many things he had to ask. Had they won? Did time flow the same here as there? If he was dead, why was he on the Hogwarts Express? Could he go back and watch over the living? (Not that he had any desire to). What came next? Was this all there was? “I don’t have many answers, Severus. As much as I’d like otherwise, that’s not how it works here.” “I don’t—” “Understand. Yes, I know.” Albus said, leaning back into the seat. “These trains never were all that comfortable, were they?” Snape swallowed and chanced a look out the window. The boy and his friends were gone, but to their credit—and his surprise—they had folded his arms and clasped his hands over his navel. He was still lying in a puddle of his own blood, but whoever came to collect his body would see that he’d been moved. Laid to rest, so to speak. “Albus,” he whispered. “Yes, Severus?” “What are we doing here?” Dumbledore laced his fingers neatly over his lap. As far as Snape could recall, he only ever did that when there were no satisfactory answers. The silence stretched between them for one heartbeat, then two, and finally three before Dumbledore spoke. “I’ve been dead a while longer than you, my friend, but you must understand, death…is not…” Dumbledore paused, his lips pursed as he searched for the right word. “Whatever this is, it does not belong to you. There are things we must do before we are allowed to rest.” “Things?” “Talking with people mostly. They come and go. Sometimes they help you, other times you help them. Every once in a while, you help each other.” “You must be terribly busy then,” Snape muttered. To his credit, Dumbledore chuckled. “It has been rather eventful. But I am glad to see you, if only to thank you. I imagine it’s been an unpleasant year.” Snape grimaced. He had attained everything he’d ever dreamed of—a position of power, influence, and fame—but it had been nothing like he wanted. Most days, he had woken up wishing he could go back to his cauldrons, back to the days where he had the begrudging respect of his peers and an uneventful life. The worst part was he’d died before he got the chance to see it through. “If the boy failed, does any of it matter?” Dumbledore sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’m certain she would think so.” Blinking, Snape stared blankly at Dumbledore. “She?” There was something that unnerved him about the way the amused twinkle faded from Dumbledore’s eyes. Snape fidgeted in his seat. He’d revealed himself lacking—in what way exactly, he wasn’t sure, but lacking nonetheless. “Severus.” Dumbledore’s eyes flickered down to Snape’s neck. His voice was calm and quiet. Almost as if he were speaking to a skittish creature that might scurry away at the slightest provocation. “How did you tell Harry what he needed to do?” Snape opened his mouth to answer, but the words died on his tongue. Thankfully, the train slowing as it pulled into its destination saved him the agony of having to remember. Outside, the scene of his lifeless body had disappeared. The dreary walls of the Shrieking Shack had faded into a lush, verdant hill by a babbling creek. In the distance he spied an old mill, the kind that sputtered dark plumes of smoke at all hours of the day. It was an odd, but familiar sight. He’d spent a lot of time in fields like this—back when he was still a lonely child waiting for his Hogwarts letter. It was then that Snape noticed the train had stopped. The door to the compartment slid open, and before he had time to think, Dumbledore was already out of his seat stretching his long arms and knees. “Well I suppose this is your stop, Severus.” “My stop?” “Surely you didn’t think you’d spend the rest of eternity on the Hogwarts Express.” Dumbledore chuckled. “It appears we’ve reached the end of our time together.” Snape licked his lips, his gut churning at the finality in Dumbledore’s voice. “The end?” “It depends. Sometimes you spend days with a person. Other times only a few minutes. However long is needed.” “For what?” Dumbledore’s lips curled into a slow, mysterious smile.“Your guess is as good as mine.” And in an instant, he was gone. — She was crying and he didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to be like those men on the covers of those absurd muggle novels she read when she thought no one was looking. The ones with the strong arms that a weeping woman could fall into and feel safe. But if he tried that, she’d probably punch him. “She’s stupid, obviously.” “Sev!” Her hand whipped out and thwacked him soundly on the shoulder. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about.” He tried not to wince as he rubbed his arm. He’d seen her hit James Potter a million times. Potter had never flinched. “I thought I was your best friend.” “My best girl friend, stupid.” She kicked him. “What are you, jealous?” Yes, he thought. “No,” he said. “I don’t see what you’re so upset about. It’s just a party.” “She literally invited everybody in our year! Every. Body. Except. Me!” “I guess the owl with my invitation just got lost then.” Flushing, she dropped her gaze to the grass. “That’s not what I meant—” “I know.” He breathed in sharply through his nostrils and fought the urge to rip out all the daisies blooming around them. “Have some pity. You’re the cleverest, prettiest witch in our year and she has a crush on James Potter. Let her have this party.” His lip curled. “After all, Potter’ll be mooning over you all Fourth Year.” “Blergh. Don’t remind me.” She pretended to gag. “What does she see in him?” His heart skipped. “Who knows.” — Time was an affliction for the living. Snape couldn’t say how long it’d been since Dumbledore and the Hogwarts Express had vanished, or even how long he’d been on the train in the first place. He wasn’t even sure how he’d got to be standing in the field. He didn’t recall standing up from his seat or getting off the train. The truth of it was that one minute he was there, and the next he was here. Life after death, he mused, had a dreamy quality to it: Everything felt real when he was in the moment, but it all slipped away once it was over. He had the distinct feeling that he was waiting for someone. Who, he couldn’t say. Someone important. The thought made his stomach flip, so he took to exploring the field around him. He headed north where he could still make out the smoke from the mills. Where there were factories, he reasoned, there were people. And where there were people, there was information. He walked aimlessly, past small white flowers and patches of mud until he reached the creek. He could have apparated across, but for some reason, he opted to take off his shoes and peel off his socks. The water felt cool against his skin, the stones at the bottom slick and slimy. He might have spent more time wading, if he had been inclined. But Snape was unused to idling so he trudged onward. He did, however, leave his shoes and socks next to some cattails by the bank. He had forgotten the feeling of grass underneath his feet and whatever else had been said about him over the years, Severus Snape was not a man who denied himself the occasional small pleasure. He walked until he passed a second creek, and then a third. But it wasn’t until he passed a fourth and then a fifth creek, that Snape began to feel suspicious. Surely, he’d been walking for hours now and the mill wasn’t any closer. And then, after wading through the water a sixth time, his eyes fell upon a familiar pair of shoes. “I was beginning to wonder when you’d notice.” A chill ran up Snape’s spine. It had been twenty years since he’d heard that voice. Twenty years of building a name for himself, of shedding the skin of the gangly boy so hungry for control. And yet here he was again, feet wet in the grass, walking aimlessly in circles, waiting to be humiliated. “I don’t really wanna be here either but the least you could do is turn around.” “How disappointing,” Snape snapped. “And here I was hoping death might be peaceful.” His tormentor fell silent, which struck Snape as strange. In life, James Potter would have seized any and every opportunity to spew insults and quips that weren’t nearly as clever as he imagined. Behind him, Snape could hear Potter suck in a deep breath through his teeth. “Would you…just turn around?” Silence suffocated the air between them, but Snape just imagined his feet sinking into the ground, his toes extending into earth like roots. He was prepared to stay there, until he heard a long shuddering sigh. “Please?” Blinking, Snape felt the tension seep out of his body. In seven years at Hogwarts, ‘please’ was a word Snape had never heard fall from James Potter’s lips. Curiosity scratched at the back of his mind, but another part of him relished the fact that for once, he held all the power. “Look, Severus. I get it. I do. But we can spend the next thousand years standing right here, with you ignoring me, or you can turn around and we can both move on to whatever’s next.” Snape paused, his stomach lurching as Dumbledore’s cryptic farewell on the train echoed in his ears. Sometimes you spend days with a person. Other times only a few minutes. However long is needed. Lips curling into a sneer, Snape slowly turned. He was stubborn, yes, but he hadn’t died a miserable death to spend a thousand years with James Potter. “Was that really so hard?” “Yes.” Death had been unfairly kind to James Potter. (But what else had Snape expected? Life had been exceptionally kind to Potter.) Standing on the other side of the creek, Potter looked exactly the same—tall, young, and handsome. A bit lanky, sure, but with thick black hair that fell in charming waves and dark eyes the color of the ocean. The perks of dying young, Snape mused bitterly, was never having to watch yourself grow old. And James Potter would forever retain the bloom of his youth. While he… Snape blinked at his reflection in the water. He was an awkward, gangly young man again. In an instant, twenty years of hard-earned confidence had melted away into scrawny limbs, slumped shoulders, and the distinct feeling he was too small for his body. He didn’t have to look in a mirror to know he had yet to grow into his wide-set eyes, long nose, and too-big ears. “Well,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I’ve turned around.” James’s lips tightened into a grim line. “Why do you always have to make it so hard?” Snape had no answer for that. It was a question he’d asked himself a million times since… Well, he couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t asked himself that. He could have picked a side and stuck to it, regardless of the consequences. It would have been easier. Instead, he had made his bed living on the edge between the light and the dark. And what had that gotten him? An unheralded death, a life missed by none, and a legacy that everyone would do their best to erase from the history books. A lifetime of sacrifice, and he couldn’t even remember why. It wasn’t until Potter cleared his throat that Snape realized he had been waiting for an answer. “I don’t know.” Snape grimaced and stared at the grass poking up between his toes. Why was it always his shortcomings? “Why do you?” “I don’t know either.” Potter’s breath left his chest in a heavy whoosh. “I s’pose we always did bring out the worst in each other.” Snape grit his teeth. Under his skin, he could feel years of silent injustices bubbling in his veins. How typical of Potter to paint over his sins with the brush of mutual blame. To fail to acknowledge how he, the Boy Who Had Everything, had spent every waking moment trying to humiliate the Boy Who Had Nothing. How he had taken the only thing Snape had ever wanted, just because he could. “You’re really not going to make this easy for me, are you?” Snape seethed. “Heaven forbid that you work for anything.” “Merlin’s beard,” Potter ran a hand through his hair before closing his eyes. “If I hadn’t promised her…” “Promised who?” “You know who.” “The Dark Lord is not a woman.” “Well obviously not him.” Potter narrowed his eyes. “Who do you think I’m talking about?” “I haven’t the slightest clue, nor do I care.” At that, Potter finally closed his mouth. When he was younger (and alive), Snape would have relished stealing the last word. But any sweetness from his victory turned sour as Potter’s eyes softened. He knew that look. Had seen it on Albus’s face a million times over the years. “You don’t remember her, do you?” For a brief moment, Snape could see the achingly familiar silhouette of a woman behind Potter. But then he blinked and she was gone. “No,” he admitted quietly. He wiggled his toes and tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted. “And I’m not sure I want to.” He didn’t have to look at Potter’s face to know he’d find a mix of guilt and pity. The thing was, if Snape were honest with himself, Potter had tried after the Whomping Willow. He had gone from being his primary tormenter to a bystander on the sidelines. And Snape had known that if he had just made an effort to swallow his pride, things might have been different. But by then, his hate had been a balm to the chaos raging inside him. If things weren’t going his way—and they never did—then at least he could blame everything on James Potter. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I can’t say it much better than that. I know…I know you had every right to hate me. And what you’ve done for my family—I’m not sure I could have done the same. I like to think that I would have, but…” A shuddering sigh escaped Potter’s lips, as if he realized that his rambling was falling on deaf ears. Swallowing, Potter clamped his hand right over his heart. “Thank you for protecting my son.” Digging his toes into the dirt was all Snape could do to keep himself upright. His heart thudded against his ribs and something inside of him twisted and finally snapped. He could hear James babbling and if he listened carefully, he could hear the faintest echo of a woman’s voice. Snape squeezed his eyes shut. She knows what you’ve done. This isn’t want he wanted, he thought as he covered his ears. Saving the boy had never been about James Potter. It hadn’t been about Voldemort, Albus, or even the boy himself—it hadn’t been about any of them. And while she’s sad you don’t remember her… When Snape opened his eyes again, it was dark and he was alone in the Shrieking Shack. The field was gone, the grass beneath his feet replaced by rotting floorboards and a wet copper stain, the scent of summer lingering his nostrils. She’ll be waiting when you’re ready. — She was already waiting for him underneath the oak tree, wearing a green summer dress with a white floral print. Her feet were bare and he could see she’d painted her toenails the color of ripe strawberries. In her lap were the books for Third Year because, that’s right, she’d gotten them last week with her parents during a trip to London. Snape pinched himself as he approached. He was used to her in cutoff jeans, old T-shirts with grass stains, and beat-up trainers. He was comfortable with her in diaphanous Hogwarts robes. Reaching up, he ran a hand through his hair, hoping that it would make him look neater and possibly make his ears look smaller. He straightened his shoulders and the hem of his threadbare shirt. It was summer and they were thirteen, standing on the precipice of something big. — The days blurred together until the field seemed more and more like a dream. Not for the first time, Snape clutched his knees to his chest as he lay on the dingy old mattress that once served a young Remus Lupin. In death, there was no such thing as hunger or sleep to break up the days. Instead, people came and they went. Or sometimes he was the one that went—to London, Hogwarts, or someplace he’d never been. Depending on the person, he grew old or he became young. But always, he ended up right back here. He was no closer to figuring out how Death worked. There was no rhyme or reason to the people he met and when, but it was a distraction. Sometimes, it could even be pleasant and that took the edge off waiting. But when he couldn’t drift off, he remembered Dumbledore’s voice echoing above the rumble of train tracks. “Whatever this is, it does not belong to you. There are things we must do before we are allowed to rest.” It wasn’t all meaningless. He’d gleaned a few things from his time in limbo. Not too long ago he’d opened his eyes to find himself in Narcissa Malfoy’s library. She’d been much older than when he’d seen her last, her hair more steely silver than white gold. There were crows feet around her eyes that crinkled when she smiled at him. She had died peacefully in her sleep, which told Snape the Boy Who Lived had prevailed. And her voice had swelled with pride when she talked about Draco’s son, Scorpio, who had just graduated from Hogwarts. Which meant he’d been dead for at least seventeen years. He’d learned other things, too. Like how the Boy and Weasley had become Aurors, That they’d installed a portrait of him as Headmaster at Hogwarts. That absurdly, there was a boy named Albus Severus Potter. They told him these things as if it would please him, and somehow Snape managed to smile, if only because it was expected of him. Inside, he knew that he was waiting for The Boy Who Lived. The thought turned his stomach. He closed his eyes and opened them again. Still the Shrieking Shack. For the millionth time, he reminded himself that his death did not belong to him, and there were things he must do before he was allowed to rest. Snape sighed. It was a long afterlife. — “Sev, can you believe first year is already over?” He shrugged. They were sitting along the bank, dipping their feet into creek. The water soothed his pinched feet—his mother had promised a new pair of shoes weeks ago, but he was beginning to think she’d forgotten—even if the pebbles at the bottom felt slimy against his soles. He tried curling his toes around a flat stone, but despite his best efforts it kept slipping. “Sev—” “I s’pose.” She furrowed her brows, nose scrunching like it always did when he said something she didn’t like. Which, since he’d been sorted into Slytherin, happened more often than he liked. “Is something the matter?” He dug his toes below the stone until it balanced on the top of his left foot. If he couldn’t pick it up with his toes, maybe he could lift it. “Is it stuff…” she paused. From the corner of his eye, he could see her fingers digging into a patch of grass. “Is it stuff at home?” He was being sullen and if he kept it up, she’d eventually get tired of him. Here, he had her all to himself. Here, he didn’t have to share her with the rest of the school and he was wasting it. “I just wish House stuff wasn’t so important.” He chanced a glance in her direction. “You’re my friend too.” She let go of the grass and slipped her hand into his, squeezing lightly. Her eyes were soft and it made his skin crawl. He wasn’t sure if he craved that gentleness or hated it. “We’re always going to be friends, Sev. I promise.” — He was old again. He could feel it in the straightness of his back and the weariness in his bones. The days had come and gone—so many that he’d long since lost count. But now that he was here, standing in the Hogwarts dungeons where he had taught hundreds of children the beauty of a simmering potion, Snape found himself wondering exactly how long he had been dead. Breathing in sharply through his nose, Snape knew he had forgotten many things since dying, but it always surprised him how much of his memories relied on things. Things like the feel of a well-worn pewter cauldron, or the medicinal smell of herbs mixing with damp wet stones. How many hours of his life had he spent here? And yet, it had all vanished the minute he died. “Professor?” The Boy Who Lived looked better than when he last saw him. Like he’d had a proper meal and a good night’s sleep. His hair was tamer, less unruly, but the rest of him remained the same. The mirror image of his father, except for those eyes. Those green orbs pierced through him, just as they had that fateful first day in this very dungeon all those years ago. For the first time in a long while, Snape thought of summer fields. “Mr. Potter.” “It’s…” Potter’s son raked a hand through his hair and Snape almost rolled his eyes. Like father, like son.“It’s been a long time, Professor.” “So I’ve heard.” He drummed his fingers against his thigh as The Boy Who Lived bit back a sharp laugh. “You never did let me off easy, did you?” “Your father said something similar.” The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them. Potter’s eyes widened, though not in the way Snape would have preferred. Surprise, anger, shock. Those emotions he could have accepted—respected even. Instead, his skin crawled at the way Potter’s emerald gaze softened. “I-I know. He said they’d seen you. I think that’s why I’m here, actually.” Snape narrowed his eyes. The Potter he remembered was slightly dopey, always a step behind Hermione Granger. The Boy Who Lived had always been disappointingly and exceptionally average in all things except flying—another trait he shared with his father. So for Potter to know something he didn’t? “Out with it. I’ve already spent enough of my life making sure you stayed alive. Am I to spend the rest of eternity doting on you as well?” To his indignation, Potter smiled. “Do you remember the last time we were here? You were teaching me occlumency.” “Trying to teach you, more like.” Snape grimaced. He forgot the exact reason why those lessons failed. Potter had crossed a line, that much he knew. Not for the first time, Snape wondered why he seemed to remember so much less than everyone else. “It’s where I learned about the Pensieve,” Potter said slowly, his eyes fixed on Snape’s face, watching for his reaction. “I saw something I shouldn’t have. Do you remember?” He did. Snape remembered how his blood had turned to ice and the violent twist of his heart—how he had so quickly gone from dreading another mediocre lesson to absolute terror at the sight of Potter’s head submerged within the Pensieve. But for the life of him, he couldn’t recall what it was he hadn’t wanted him to see. This was exactly how he’d felt right before he’d gone to beg Dumbledore for his help. The same feeling he’d had all those days curled up in the Shrieking Shack, staring at a pool of what he knew to be his own blood. “I’ve forgotten someone,” he said slowly. “Someone important.” Potter nodded, biting his lip. “That night. The night you died in the Shrieking Shack, we didn’t find you time. You couldn’t speak, so—” “I gave you my memories.” “Yes.” “And you’re here to give them back.” “Yes.” “What if I don’t want them?” Despite the endless monotony of his death, despite how often his inability to remember frustrated him, his body remembered how heavily life had weighed on his shoulders. Forgetting let him stand straighter than he had in years. It lightened his step. And while Snape was keenly aware of the ever-present hollowness in his chest, he found that most days he didn’t mind it. Potter gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. A small, petty part of Snape reveled in his surprise. Dumbledore wouldn’t have approved. In fact, Snape was sure Albus would have reprimanded him for being childish. The silence stretched between them, and Snape’s only regret was that the Powers That Be could be incredibly high-handed. What was the point of forcing him and Potter together? Why did he have to meet with a seemingly endless stream of people who’d made his already miserable life difficult? Why force him to live in a cage of half-drawn memories at all? “You know, Ron asked me once if I wasn’t lionizing you after the fact. Naming my son after you, lobbying to put your portrait up at Hogwarts, making sure your name was cleared in the papers. There’s a card of you now. My daughter found one in her Chocolate Frog. And you might be surprised, but that made me happy.” “For once,” Snape drawled, “Weasley may have had a point.” “But,” Potter said sharply, pointedly ignoring him, “I didn’t stop hating you until you gave me these.” He watched as Potter pulled a small vial from his pocket and set it on the very desk he’d sat at as an 11 year-old first year. Swirling inside the glass was the familiar silvery smoke of memory. His memory. “You don’t have take them back…but they don’t belong to me. They’re yours. And hers.” “Hers?” “My mother.” Snape froze. Of course, on some level he knew Harry Potter hadn’t sprung up from James Potter himself. And everyone knew the legend. That she’d sacrificed herself for him. That her love had repelled the Dark Lord’s killing curse. Snape knew he should have known who she was. That at one point, he had. “I don’t…I can’t…” Potter nodded, his head bobbing wordlessly as his eyes scanned every inch of the room. His breath was ragged from holding back a sigh. “It’s understandable,” he said. “I don’t think you intended things to turn out the way they did. I blame myself for that. I didn’t see. I didn’t want to see.” Snape could have said anything. A few retorts flitted across his mind. Easy retorts meant to make Potter seethe. Cutting remarks that would make him bleed. “I did what I had to,” Snape said simply. “Nothing more, nothing less.” “But—” “Thank you for returning them.” He curled his fingers around the vial and slipped it into his pocket. The glass was cool but he could feel his memories pulsating inside. “And for keeping them all these years.” Potter’s mouth hung open. In life, the sight might’ve made Snape sneer. In death, his stomach sank as if it were made of lead. Of course James’s son would find it surprising that the awkward, dour Potions Master could be gracious. What else could be expected of him? “I…I’m sorry for being such a prat in your classes.” Snape blinked. In six years of trying to teach Harry Potter, years spent hiding his misery and guilt behind bubbling cauldrons and sarcastic quips, he’d never expected an apology. It was right for James Potter’s son to hate him. It made protecting him easier. It struck him then that Harry had wrinkles that James never did. Creases around the corners of his mouth. Crows feet around his eyes. And if he squinted, Harry’s hair was peppered with silver near the temples. He’d lived longer than both Snape and his father. Seen more of the world than either of them. “Professor? Are you alright?” “Did you at least make the most of your life?” Harry smiled. The dungeon grew hazy around the edges, shimmering like the edges of a Pensieve before fading into the next memory. For a brief moment, Snape hoped it meant he would finally be allowed to rest. — “Sev, are you nervous?” It was August 31st. At the edge of the horizon, the sky was already starting fade from vibrant pinks and reds to a deep purple. The crickets were chirping their sad songs, and in that moment, an 11-year-old Snape wondered if she could hear how fast his heart thudded against his ribs. “No.” “Not even a little bit?” He turned to look at her. She’d pulled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs as she curled up into the trunk of the tree. “Why would I be?” “I dunno. It’s the first day. At Hogwarts.” “I know.” She bit her lip. “What if it goes all wrong?” “It won’t. We’re going to be the greatest wizard and witch Hogwarts has ever seen.” “But how can you be so sure?” He swallowed. Because it had to be better. Anything would be compared to staying home for another year. Another year of his parents fighting. Of his mother crying alone in the bathroom when she thought everyone was sleeping. Of his father stumbling home drunk in the dark. Tomorrow was the first day of the rest of his life. His real life. “Trust me. When we’re big, everyone is going to remember who we are.” She scrunched her face. “If you say so.” — When he awoke, the world was awash with sunlight. Shielding his eyes, Snape could see dozens of daisies and dandelions dotting the verdant hills like stars in the night sky. In the distance, he could make out the silhouette of smoke stacks and plumes of smoke. Snape sighed. The Powers That Be were insufferable. Pursing his lips, he chucked off his shoes and stalked off in the direction of the creek. As he walked, he could feel the vial tapping against his thigh. The narrative was clear. He’d read enough of those pulpy swashbucklers as a child to know what the hero did next. The sooner he did it, the sooner he—and, the Potters—could get on with their afterlives. Then again, he’d never been the hero. Not even in his own story. As he reached the banks, the water felt cool against his feet, the stones slimy under his toes. He flexed them a few times, reveling in the dappled pattern of sunlight through water. He’d done this often as a boy—mostly when the silence at the dinner table was too thick, or as an escape on the days his mother couldn’t force herself to pretend. He hadn’t seen her. Not once. Through the endless days, he sometimes thought he caught a whiff of her perfume. Other times, he saw a passing shadow bearing her resemblance out the corner of his eye. He supposed that was just as well. In life, his mother never had much to say to him. Why should death have been any different? And not for the first time, Snape imagined a world where his parents never met. He’d found a photo after his mother died, buried away in an old album. She’d been sitting at this very same creek, her long black hair spilling over her shoulders as her nimble fingers wove a crown made of daisies. She looked young, her skin smooth and her lips slightly upturned as if she was trying not to laugh at a terrible joke. He imagined she would have stayed that way. Free of the lines around her mouth from frowning every time his father came home stinking of gin. She would have stood tall, her back straight instead of slightly hunched. She would have married a respectable man from a good wizarding family. She wouldn’t flinch when people spoke to her. She would have greeted the world with a cool, confident smile. And in that world, her son might have been someone worth noticing. Handsome, charming, accomplished, and admired by everyone who met him. Someone more like James Potter. “I thought I’d find you here.” He knew that voice. Had dreamt of it all those lonely nights after she died. And for the first time in years, he remembered his favorite thing about Lily’s voice was how it reminded him of clear, running water. Swallowing, Snape reached a hand into his pocket only to find it empty. He supposed she learned that trick from one of Potter’s friends. (Sirius Black, most likely.) “In my defense, you were taking an awfully long time.” Behind him, he could hear her kicking off her shoes. He didn’t have to look to know she’d taken off the left first, then the right before tossing them carelessly over her shoulder. “I missed this, you know. I only came back once after fifth year. Just before Harry was born. You were already gone by then, who knows where. I sat here all by myself for a whole afternoon but it wasn’t the same.” He could see her in his peripheral now. Parts of her at least. Her feet were pale next to his, though her toenails were painted a bright shade of shamrock green. Snape fixed his gaze on a misshapen rock near his big toe. It worked for the most part, though every once in a while he could see a wisp of red hair when the breeze picked up. “Sev—” “Don’t call me that.” “Oh, he can speak.” Alive, he’d imagined this moment so many times. In the early years, he’d wrapped himself in his guilt until it became his armor. He pictured her as stone-faced as the night she’d rejected his apology. In his dreams, he’d reach out for her hand. He’d try to explain himself and she would always turn away without a word. Later, he allowed himself the fantasy that she’d greet him with open arms. She’d shower him with forgiveness and gratitude for selflessly sacrificing himself for her son. He never got much further than that. His sense of reality and disgust with himself usually won out. But somehow, in the 17 years after her death, Snape had forgotten just how annoying she could be. “What do you want me to say?” he said between gritted teeth. “A ‘Hello’ would do. ‘Long time no see.’ Something along those lines would’ve been fine. James said you’d been difficult. I hoped he’d been exaggerating.” “Ah yes, James.” Snape’s lip curled. “And I’d hoped dying meant I’d finally heard the last of him.” “Really? This is how we’re starting off?” Lily’s voice pitched. When they were children, this was the part where she’d stomp across the fields back to her house. He’d watch her go, too stubborn to apologize, but desperate for her to at least look back. She never did. “You’re absolutely unbelievable.” “Perhaps. But this?” He gestured to the air between them, but kept his eyes fixed on the water lapping at his ankles. “Whatever this is, I’m done with it. You should go now.” Beside him, he could hear Lily sputtering. If he looked, Snape was certain her mouth would be hanging open, her brows furrowed and her hands curled into fists at her sides. “We both know that’s not how this works.” Ah yes. His death did not belong to him, just as Lily’s death did not belong to her. They both had things to do before they would be allowed to rest. Neither of them would be permitted to leave until the Powers That Be deemed them worthy. Snape grit his teeth. “You’re the one who started things off the on the wrong foot.” “Me? What did I do?” “You had no right. Those were my memories.” “I had every right.” Lily’s voice was steely. “Those memories belonged to me, just as much as they belonged to you. What was I supposed to do? Wait another twenty, thirty years for you to feel ready?” “Oh, so the seventeen years after you died. All that pain and suffering. Those belonged to you too?” Snape grimaced. “Did you ever think for a moment that maybe I wanted to forget?” That shut her up. Briefly. “It’s not my fault you beat yourself up for seventeen years. Unnecessarily, might I add. I didn’t ask you to do that, Sev. I never wanted you to do that.” He swallowed. She had that magical talent of twisting his words against him. Of reflecting back to him just how selfish and narcissistic he could be. Of making him feel so incredibly beneath her, unworthy of her company. And despite his infinite shortcomings, even a young Snape had known deep down it wouldn’t last. They’d both picked over every scab until their friendship was infected by doubt. Every time he’d seen James Potter make her laugh, it’d felt like something cold squeezed its fingers around his heart. The next time he’d see her, instead of being a friend he’d say something rude. Something unkind. And he’d watch, his stomach sinking, as the warmth in her eyes cooled. The noble thing would have been to be honest with her. But despite what Albus had said, Snape would’ve never been sorted into Gryffindor. What he’d done for Harry had been easy. Courage borne from guilt wasn’t anything special. But now, after all these years, even though he knew that she knew, he would’ve rather wasted away for an eternity rather than tell her face-to-face. “You had no right,” he whispered. “Would you at least look at me?” After a few beats, she added, “Please.” This was it. The moment he’d dreamed of. Turning his head, the rapid beat of Snape’s heart stilled. Lily had never lived long enough to develop laugh lines or that crinkle at the corner of her eyes. Her skin was still smooth and pale, her cheeks rounded and full. But she’d cut her hair. It was shorter, more practical—though still curled in waves by at her shoulders. And her eyes, oh those eyes. They were older. Wiser. Those were eyes that had seen the truth of the world, but still believed in good things. She was still so very young, while he had grown so very old. “Sev.” Lily stretched a hand toward him, her fingers gently brushing against his knee. “It’s okay.” “It’s not.” His voice cracked in his throat. “It was never supposed to be like this.” She pursed her lips, eyes softening, and Snape wished he could hide under a rock. “I used to think that too. In the beginning. I thought I’d be here with James. You know. Clouds and halos and all that muggle jazz about angels and Heaven. I thought at the very least I’d get to watch over Harry. But it doesn’t really work like that. I see James every once in a while, but never for very long. I did get to see Harry grow up, though not as much as I’d have liked. Enough to get a sense of who he turned out to be. But mostly, it was just a lot of waiting by myself. Lots and lots of waiting. Sound familiar?” Lily didn’t wait for him to respond before she continued. “Then one day I’m magically here at the creek and I knew I’d see you again soon. I knew what you’d done for Harry. And I was so ready to just talk. There was so much I wanted to say. You probably won’t believe me but I’ve thought a lot over the years about what seeing you again would be like.” Pausing, Lily smiled tightly at him before wincing. “Didn’t happen quite the way I imagined.” It never did with them. It never would. The realization sank heavily into his bones. All those years, when Harry was being difficult, he’d lie in his bed and stare at the ceiling imagining this moment. He dreamt of what it would be like if none of the bad things had ever happened. They’d be back to how they were before things got so twisted. But, as it turned out, he had started forgetting long before his death. They had always sniped and bickered and poked at each other until the one of them went crazy. They’d always seesawed back and forth between affection and exasperation. He’d always disappointed her, and she’d never tried to understand his point of view. She had just realized it before he had. “Do you remember that summer before first year?” Lily scrunched her nose. “Vaguely. Why?” “The day before we came to Hogwarts, we sat here. You asked me if I was nervous about what school would be like.” “Yeah. You said everyone would remember us.” He chuckled darkly. “After that. You wanted to play tag but the sun had already started setting. If I could, I’d go back to that moment and I would do everything differently.” “How so?” “For starters, I’d have let you go.” When Lily started blinking rapidly, Snape licked his lips. His cheeks were warm and a small part of him wished the earth would crack open beneath him and swallow him whole. “It was all different after third year. If I’d been…better I’d have let you go instead of…” He waved his hand, as if he could summon the perfect blend of words that would express what he meant while preserving his dignity. “Instead of hoping you’d see me as anything more than your friend. And resenting you when you didn’t. ” The words hung between them, heavy and thick like the air just before a thunderstorm. He’d always suspected she’d known. Every time their conversations skirted too close, every time he worked up the nerve to hint, she’d always steered the conversation back to something safe. And as they grew older, she stopped whispering in his ear or looping her arm through his. Worse yet, he wasn’t blind and she was a terrible actress. Her eyes started lingering on James Potter, following him whenever he left the room. And while Snape had always looked back when they said goodnight, Lily had never once done the same. But to finally say it. Snape breathed in the sweet smell of summer grass. It didn’t help the dull ache in his chest, but when he finally exhaled, his entire body sagged with relief. “Oh, Sev.” Lily’s eyes were shut, her lips pursed in a half grimace.“I—” “You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine.” To his surprise, it actually was. For the first time in years, he could see her for who she was and not who he wished she’d be. The ache in his chest, his constant companion since the day he first laid eyes on her, ebbed. He doubted it would ever go away completely. Even when he couldn’t remember her, the echo of it had still been there. “I forgive you. For that day.” “You shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it.” “Maybe not. But I forgive you anyway.” And for the first time since the summer before Fifth Year, they sat together in comfortable silence. It was like rereading an old book for the hundredth time; he knew every sentence, every twist and turn of phrase. He knew how this story ended, had always known how this story ended. But for once, he didn’t resent his part. “You know,” he said, voice trembling. “It’s not too late.” Lily’s head tilted to the side, her brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?” Brushing off the grass from his knees, Snape stood with a new lightness in his limbs. There was no troublesome ache in his neck. His bones did not creak. His back did not ache. The air was sweet with the scent of asphodel and wormwood, and when he looked at his hands, they were smooth. No calluses from years of writing, no scars from broken glass. Most importantly, there was no Dark Mark on his left forearm. He glanced back at Lily and his heart leapt. She looked just as she had before a scarlet train took them to a magic castle in Scotland. Before she was a beautiful woman, back when she was a gangly girl with knobby knees and grass in her long auburn hair. It was the Lily Evans that only he knew—the Lily he loved best. Leaning over, he lightly tapped her arm. “Tag,” he said. “You’re it.” Snape didn’t bother looking back as he shot across the field, his feet splashing through the creek as he darted toward home. He’d never been the fastest runner. Besides, he had full faith she would catch him before long. Behind him, he heard Lily’s indignant shriek and he pushed his legs to run faster. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again. Perhaps, he was the last person she needed to see before she left for shores unknown. As for him, he had a nagging feeling he wasn’t done just yet. But this moment? This he could take with him. A smile spread across his lips as he felt her grab a fistful of his shirt. Laughing, they tumbled down the hill. This was something they could share, if only for a little while.
11322138	More Ridiculous Romance	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin, James West, Artemus Gordon", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by VirginiaMcCooley", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-27T00:00:00", "words": "8", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin, James West/Artemus Gordon", "Series": "Picture Stories", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV), Wild Wild West (TV)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	This is a terrible pun, I know, but...
11362173	ZERO The Year After	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Nigel Uno \| Numbuh 1, Hoagie Pennywhistle Gilligan Jr. \| Numbuh 2, Kuki Sanban \| Numbuh 3, Wallabee Beatles \| Numbuh 4, Abigail Lincoln \| Numbuh 5, Fanny Fulbright \| Numbuh 86, Rachel T. McKenzie \| Numbuh 362, Patton Drilovsky, Monty Uno \| Numbuh 0, Father, Delightful Children From Down The Lane, Original Character", "Fandom": "Codename: Kids Next Door", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Prettywitchiusaka", "chapters": "16/16", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-01T00:00:00", "words": "41,202", "Additional Tags": "Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Self-Denial, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Humour, Eventual Romance", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Abigail Lincoln/Nigel Uno, Hoagie Pennwhistle Gilligan Jr./Fanny Fulbright, Wallabee Beatles/Kuki Sanban, 60/362, Fanny Fulbright/Rachel McKenzie, Nigel Uno/OC, Abigail Lincoln/OC", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/M, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	August 11th, 2006 A day of great promise and malice for Earth's inhabitants, The day a young boy discovered a dark yet hopeful secret, Both about his family, and himself, Though fortunately, most casual people have forgotten such a day, And yet others could only wish for such luckA faint pant encapsulated the dark room, panting which could only describe the current state for the sleeping Drill Sergeant known only as Patton, or Numbuh 60. His legs twitched, his body shifted as it dripped of sweat, even his face looked as though it were in pain as he remained trapped within his nightmares. Though slowly did his hand begin to shake as it rose, clenching as if it were reaching out for something. Yet the sound of an evil cackle seemed to sync perfectly with his clawed looking hand before he felt himself scream. Shortly after did Patton find himself awake, though his abnormal black eyes could only indicate fear as he checked his surrounding area, his heavy panting continuing briefly before breathing a deep sigh of relief."Rise and shine", said the cheerful voice of Patton's mother Lilian as she opened the door to her son's room, causing him to cringe at the bright hallway light before allowing his eyes to adjust to his mom's gentle smile."Mom, seriously, it's 7:30 in the morning; save the pep for dad why don't you", said Patton, his tone rather grouchy sounding as he tore his covers off his legs."Well okay Mr. Grumpy pants", she replied in a mocking pouty tone. "I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready.""That is if Jeffery is ready", she said as she pointed towards his friend and second -in-command known only as Jeffery, or Numbuh 600. He tossed in his sleep as he shouted out random things, bringing a smile to the young boy's face as he opened his mouth to speak."Well, that depends; Jeff, you ready to go", he asked his friend, nudging him with his foot before seeing him flinch."Wake me up in September", Jeffery said in a sleepy tone, unaware of the large smirk that encompassed his raven haired friend."Alright fine, I guess I'm going to have to eat all that food by myself", the young boy replied with undeniable pride as he watched his friend spring up from his futon."I'm up! I'm up", the blue eyed boy screamed."Oh goodie! Well, I'll leave you two to get dressed. Tootles", she sweetly chirped before closing the door, leaving the blue eyed boy to stare in annoyance at his smirking friend."Sheesh, talk about a low blow", he replied, irritation clear in his voice as his friend's smirk never faded."Eh, what can I say; your spazouts are the highlight of my morning", Patton replied in a cocky manner, much to his friends dismay."Fine, sure, just don't expect me to save any Chocolate Chip pancakes, okay", he asked as he watched his friend's face turn pale with shock."What", the young Drill Sergeant screamed as he watched his friend's face flare up with a smirk all his own."Ha! See, don't like it when people do it to you, huh", Jeffery asked, his prideful yet cocky smile enough to irritate the young boy as he opened his mouth to speak."Just go get changed", he yelled towards his friend as he watched his face turn pale with fear momentarily."Aye, aie, Captain", the blue eyed boy replied, hesitation ever so clear in his tone as he left the room with his bag in hand.Yet what eyes could not catch, was the melancholy look upon the face of his raven haired friend as he stared at the date depicted on his calender; August 11th, 2007."I can't believe it's already been a year...", he whispered, that melancholy glaze ever so present in his black eyes even as he went to change for the day.Somewhere not far off from the Drilovsky's residence, circumstances certainly seemed much less troubling for a certain Supreme Leader as she lay curled up in her soft bed, dead to the world as the radiant sun began to reflect against her dishevelled golden locks. She seemed so peaceful, so at ease with the world as she lay wrapped in her soft sheets. Unfortunate for her though that a small figure had plans to interrupt such tranquillity as he slowly creeped towards his sister's bed, mischievous intent clear in his brown eyes and on his freckled face as his lips slowly reached her ear."You know, I hear they're cancelling Dr. Time Space", he whispered into her ear, knowing that only seconds after did her chocolate brown eyes open in wide-eyed shock."But they can't, it's mid-season", screamed Supreme Leader Rachel, or Numbuh 362 as she sat herself up in her bed, her eye filed with the type of shock one could only emote when things had gone horribly wrong.Though a quick notion of logic overcame her the instant she got her bearings, turning ever so slowly to face her little brother Harvey McKenzie, or Numbuh 363, a mischievous grin clear upon his face as he began to speak."Morning Sis", replied the buck toothed boy, a look of annoyance clear upon her face as she spoke up."Harvey...Must you always resort to this method", she asked, her tone clear with annoyance as she rubbed her temples between her soft fingers."Well it's not my fault you could sleep through a volcano erupting. Besides, sissy girls are a lot easier to scare when they're sleeping", he replied, his tone of arrogance enough to irritate her even further before breaking out a small smile."Awe, how sweet of you. In fact, I think you should be rewarded for such kindness", the young girl calmly said with a smile, a smile which turned to a devious look as she watched her brother turn pale at the sight of her hand reaching for his head."Ah, right! Well, maybe I should get going. Bye", the little boy replied in nervousness as he ran directly for the door, unable to hear the little chuckle which escaped his sister's mouth.Yet that small giggle could not withstand the sheer shock which formed upon her face as she turned her head to face her calender, the mere sight of the date enough to make her sigh in mild grief."So...it's already been a whole year it seems...", the young leader said to herself, her chocolate eyes revealed a sign of uncertainty even as she left her to change out of her nightwear.Yet even the fiercest lions could have their moments of tranquil peace, and someone such as Global Tactical Officer Fanny, or Numbuh 86 certainly proved such a case as she lay quietly in her Rainbow Monkey shaped bed. Her covers lay atop her body as she wore her signature yellow nightgown, her frizzy red hair in layers and pieces as her head rest beside a purple Rainbow Monkey. She seemed so peaceful, so at ease, much more so than one would initially believe so.Unfortunate though that all changed at the sound of a familiar Rainbow Monkey theme coming from a colourful alarm clock, stirring the Irish redhead ever so slightly. Irritation could be seen upon her twitching freckled face, so much so that she threw the covers over her head to distract from the song. Yet, it never ceased to ring even minutes after, irritating her even further. The song continued in an endless loop for what seemed like seconds, even minutes, only to end as the irritated looking girl unveiled herself from under the bed covers."Alright! Sheesh", Fanny screeched through her thick Irish accent, staring at the clock in full blown irritation before grabbing it to turn it off.Yet such irritation could only be ceased upon a quick glance at today's date, not that it did much for the Irish redhead as the surprise in her emerald green eyes could only be replaced with a scowl."Great. Today's national whiners day, give me a break...", the Irish girl said, irritation clear in both her eyes and on her face as she stood herself up from the bed before she went to change.Not far off within the quarters of Sector V, circumstances appeared to much more tranquil for its mutant resident Alex, or Numbuh 273. Though how could she not feel secure and tranquil as she lay in her dimly lit, otaku infested room? She lay face up on her bed as her curly hair lay atop her head, clothed in a pink nightgown as her head lay off to the side with her Crona plushie. She too seemed just as peaceful, or at least she would feel so if not for the presence of her cumbersome alarm clock as it did its job to slowly bring her back into reality.Here eyelids may have opened to reveal her brown eyes, but her reflexes seemed much slower than usual. Regardless, her irritation remained ever so president upon her face as she sat up to stare at the device. And yet, satisfaction became ever so clear upon her face as her eyes glowed a light pink, telekinetically resetting the alarm. Satisfaction which only lasted until she noticed the date in stunned silence."It's been a whole year today...hasn't it...", she asked herself, staring at the clock in stunned silence momentarily before letting out a big sigh."Arieu...", she said with disappointment, all the while muttering the Japanese word for "unbelievable" before hitting her bed once more to stare at the ceiling.Merely minutes had gone by as she stared at the ceiling, a disappointed yet irritable look present upon her face before finally letting out a sigh once more."Well, might as well try and make the best of it", the mutant girl said, annoyance clear in her tone even as she energetically jumped out of bed to get ready for the day.A loud yet delicate snore; it seemed to be the only sound emitting from Sector V's second-in-command Abigail, or Numbuh 5. Yet even she appeared as tranquil as ever, sleeping comfortably on her side, her usually braided hair dishevelled as it lay off to the side of her tiger-stripped pillow. Unfortunate then that such tranquillity seemed to vanish as her hazel eyes opened to the sound of an off-going alarm.Though for what it was worth, the braided beauty didn't seem to mind one bit; she stretch her arms momentarily, even let out a big yawn as she stretched to turn the alarm off. If were ever present, then a small smile seemed present upon he r face as the spunky girl got up from her bed, stretching a little more before she took a walk over to her pad's window to watch the rising sun momentarily."Looks like it's gonna' be a nice day today", said Abigail, her calm and spunky tone a sign of suggestive resolve in the day, that is until she let out a small sigh."Just too bad about the date though", she replied to her own sentence as she gazed at the calendar, a touch of melancholy to wash over such spunky hazel eyes as she began to tie her long black hair in a braid once more.A loud snore; typical yet cliche of a boy such as Sector V's hand-to-hand combatant Wally Beatles, or Numbuh 4. Though one could say that such snoring did not seem to faze him as he lay atop his room-sized boxing ring, a big grin plastered upon his sleeping face as he threw speratic punches in his sleep, delighted by the notion of such blissful dreaming.Yet all that seemed to disappear in an instant at the sound of a familiar alarm, a sound which seemed to irritate the blonde Aussie as he felt himself stir from his sleep. Though to be fair, it didn't take long for him to slowly sit himself up, unleashing a rather loud yawn before feeling his hand smash a familiar shaped object. One glance revealed surprise and curiosity as he turned his head, only for that expression to mold into annoyance upon seeing his smashed alarm clock."Ah crud, not again! That's the fourth time this week", Wally said aloud, his voice filled with irritation as he lifted his unscathed fist from smashed object, only to find himself curious as he stared at the flickering date."August eleventh...", he said to himself, feeling his curiosity become deja vu as his emerald eyes stayed concentrated on the date in front of him, at least momentarily."Oh well", he said, brushing such curiosity off as he went to change.Some find tranquillity all too hard to obtain or earn, yet for others, it is but a natural gift. Such was the case for Sector V's ditzy yet loveable nurse Kuki, or Numbuh 3. Even in such early morning hours did she display such a gift as she lay quietly in her fluffy bed, a bright, happy smile clear upon her face as she lay off to the side. Her long, ebony hair dishevelled as it clung to her slender body, even her face seem comfortable as it lay snuggled up to her special friend Mr. Tinklebottom."Oh, why thank you Mr. TinkleBottom! It's so nice of you to invite me to dinner", Kuki sweetly chirped in her sleep, her enthusiasm equal to match her waking hours she she remain living in dreams.Yet only temporarily, for no sooner had she uttered that sentence did the little Asian girl find herself awakening to the sound of a Rainbow Monkey alarm clock. Her violet eyes slowly fluttered open as she rubbed them, even yawned as she sat up from her warm bed."Morning already", she asked herself, still sleepy even as her sleeve hidden hand turned the device off, not that it stopped her from recognizing a familiar looking date."It's been a whole year, huh...", the little girl asked herself quietly, feeling a temporary silence overcome her living quarters as she stared at such a date in mild surprise."Oh well, we should get ready for our big day today, right Mr. TinkleBottom", she happily chirped, seeming ever so her happy, enthusiastic self as she went to change.Even if tranquillity is hard to earn or accept, it also seemed to have a way with free-spirited thinkers such as Sector V's resident scientist and pilot Hoagie, or Numbuh 2. In all truth, it seemed to represent itself far too well as he lay peacefully in his unusual cockpit bed. His goggle hidden eyes remained softly shut as he lat beneath his cover cozily, a bright smile upon his usually cheerful face as he unleashed soft but still evident snores. Truthfully, the morning seemed kind to him.Though such kindness could only reward a person for so long, for nearly seconds later did he hear the chimes of a familiar bell-like sound. It was enough to disturb his peaceful slumber as he murmured quietly, though not enough to diminish his happy mood as he choose to ignore such chimes. That is until he felt his being pinched by a mysterious, not that it mattered as he yelped in pain continuously, allowing this to continue for at least a minute before feeling himself become full of mild irritation."Okay! Okay! I'm up", Hoagie finally screamed as he opened his blue eyes, allowing for himself to glare at the now visible mechanical Mickey Mouse hand waving towards him before watching it return to his alarm clock.Yet it was only upon such an instant did he feel his eyes widen, even his body fill with mild panic as he stared at the time his clock had chosen to awaken him upon."Oh no, I sure hope Numbuh 5 hasn't finished making breakfast yet", he said with panic clear in his eyes and in his tone, his hand reaching for his signature aviation cap before taking a walk down the stairs.Yet for some, tranquil sleep seemed only a desperate dream crushed by suppressed grouchiness. That certainly proved to be the current situation for Sector V's valiant leader Nigel, or Numbuh 1. A good sleep indeed seemed to allude him as he lay back-up in his bed, appearing as though he had already been awake for nearly two hours as he stared at the ceiling, his eyes fraught with intense frustration as he continued to do so.Quick he was to turn over to his left side, yet even then did comfort allude his tense body as he felt himself overcome by another bout of frustration. Though no sooner had he turned over did he feel his annoyance increase at the sound of his own alarm clock. Annoyance, even tensity he felt pounding in his head and even shaping itself in his expression as he sat himself up, staring with almost a vial hatred towards the device before turning it off. Though not long after did he feel himself unleash a small sigh as he buried his face in his hand, staying in such a state for merely a few seconds before breathing yet another small sigh."How am I going to get through this day", Nigel asked himself as he dawned his trademark sunglasses, a grouchy yet irritated look still clear upon his face even as he went to change.End chap.1 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It is often uncommon to see one act at a breakfast table; everyone had their own ways of adjusting to the waking world, some more profound than others while some miniscule in comparison. And such case could not be in any more common place than at the breakfast table Sector V sat upon, and truthfully did it seem ever lively in spite of such early morning hours. Yet even the sound of Abigail flipping flapjacks over an oven stove paled in comparison to the loud, joyful munching provided by none other than Hoagie as Alex joined him as an accomplice. Though truthfully, how could smiles not graze their faces as they stuff their faces with flapjacks, oblivious to the rather unsettling look upon Wally's face as he sat on the other side of the bench, even as his plump friend opened his mouth to speak."Keep em' comin' Numbuh 5", Hoagie said, the obvious food in his mouth only being able to mask his delightful tone barely, oblivious to his blonde friend's unsettling face filled with disbelief."Found anythin' yet", Wally asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice even as Alex's own expression turned into disbelief."You know, you are free to take as much as you want, no one's stopping you", she replied in her usual snarky tone."Well I would if cakezilla here would keep to himself", he explained he guarded himself from flying food bits, only for his plump friend's expression to change from delight to disappointed ever so slightly."Hey, for your information, a growing boy needs his fibre", he explained in more serious yet still lighthearted tone even as his friend went to open his mouth before stopping himself."Nah, too easy", Wally remarked in a tone of realization."Well, you guys can have the pancakes. I'm going to have a nice bowl of Rainbow Munchies cereal", Kuki happily chirped as she poured the cereal into the bowl, oblivious to the rather unsettling look from her mutant friend as she happily chewed her breakfast."I still have no idea how you can eat that stuff after that "Soylent Green" esque incident", the mutant brunette bluntly replied, catching the attention of her bubbly friend as she did so."But that was over a year ago", the little Asian girl calmly replied."Yeah, well it still rings clear in my mind",she replied with the utmost disgust in her voice."Oh come on Two-Seventy-Three; you know the ticket to the future is always open", she said in a more sly yet still optimistic tone."Yeah, try telling to someone who has linear time on their hands", Alex calmly replied as she took a sip of her juice."Oh don't be silly; everybody sees time linearly", Kuki replied in a more sassy yet still innocent sounding tone, he words unable to fail as they sent the dark-skinned girl her own look of disbelief."Yeah...some more than others", Abigail replied, even as her voice rung of blunt disbelief she easily shook off. "Anyway, you want me ta' make ya' an extra batch fo' later Numbuh 2?""Yeah, that way I won't have to blow up the kitchen again. Ooh, and put some blueberries in them while you're at it please", he asked his friend as she began to comply to his request."It's too bad you can't come with us on that fishing trip today", the mutant brunette said in an air of mild disappointment."I know", he replied in the same tone before reverting to his natural happy state. "But, that's what being a 2x4 tech' expert does to ya'. Besides, I already asked Numbuh 4 to catch me a couple.""You can have my share; I hate fish", the Aussie said as finally took a bite of his flapjacks."Amen to that", the mutant girl replied as she took another bite of her own set."Ah, it's got it's benefits; at least Numbuh 5 won't have hear any jokes fo' a couple of hours", the braided girl said in delightful bliss, much to the dismay of her plump friend."Oh come on, need I remind you that I am the class busted eye five-star entire fifth grade", the plump boy tried to explain, even as his tone became mildly obnoxious in the process."Yeah, just keep tellin' yo'self that baby", the black girl calmly replied, flipping her last flapjack as she turned off the element."Well, at least I know you'll never put me up at Pie-point. In fact...sometimes...in my darkest dreams...I can still feel the rhubarb trickling down my spine...", he replied in a more somber, almost paranoid tone."Actually, that's just me tryin' ta' scare the crud out of ya'", the small Aussie replied with devious glee even as his friend's expression became a subtle glare.Yet such playful bliss could only cease upon an anonymous slam of an opening door, surprise the only emotion to cross the fives individual faces as they each turned to face the figure responsible. Why it was none other than their dear friend and leader Nigel, though not his usual calm demeanour for such early hours. His expression seemed flat, even his navy eyes spoke of grumpiness which brought only silence to such a gentle environment, silence only counteracted the instant his distraught friends had the nerve to speak up."Hey...Good Morning Numbuh 1", Hoagie replied, his tone a mix of happy discomfort."Ohio", Kuki happily chirped without much hesitation."Mornin' Boss", both Wally and Abigail said in blunt unison."Ohio, Nigel-kun", Alex sweetly yet hesitantly replied."Yeah, Good Morning", Nigel replied, his blunt yet rude sounding tone enough to bring even more discomfort to the five as he slammed the door shut, only to walk rather slowly towards the table before sitting down.Yet the quick reflex of taking the remaining flapjack stack could only cause his friends more discomfort as they witnessed him wolf them down like no tomorrow, discomfort they knew would have to smooth over as Alex opened her mouth to speak."So...Nigel-kun, did you have any pleasant dreams this past evening", she asked rather sweetly."I've been up since four a.m., should that be an indicator", the bald boy asked rather bluntly as he ate his breakfast."Well jeez, you didn't have to be so snippy about it", the mutant brunette replied, her annoyance clear in her tone as she zipped her mouth shut, even as her plump friend opened his own mouth to speak."Say, that's a big stack of pancakes you got there Numbuh 1-""Don't even try", the British bald boy bluntly replied, discouraging his plump friend, yet not enough to discourage his black friend as she raised her eyebrow in suspicion."Huddle", the cool African-American girl calmly instructed to her friends, soon enough formed into a small human ball as the cocky Aussie opened his mouth to speak."What's eatin' him", Wally asked, his tone one of both concern, and of curiosity."Well obviously it's his lack of sleep, did you see the lack of sleep under his eye? Eww", the little Asian girl replied in a more critical, even sassy tone as her short friend gave her a look of disbelief."Yeah, that probably only applies te' you "girly" girls", he responded in mild mockery."Well, it's got to be something else", Hoagie said in mild concern."I'll say, his aura's as red as they come", the mutant brunette replied in a cold yet observant tone."Yeah, but that ain't surprising considerin' today's date", the spunky black girl calmly stated, causing her three friends to smile in realization."Oh yeah! I can see that' who wouldn't want to drown their sorrows in a stack of pancakes the year after Operation ZERO", the plump pilot asked in a rather casual tone."That's today", asked Wally, his shock vividly noticeable in both his emerald eyes, and his tone."You didn't know", his friends asked the embarrassed looking Aussie, only to get an answer as he scurried to clear his throat."Don't be stupid, of course I knew", the small Aussie replied, his hesitant yet confident sounding tone a dead giveaway to his circle of friends."But you just said-""Forget what I said! You guys might forget, but I'm a bit more complex than that. The inner workin's of my mind are an enigma", he replied, his confident tone unable to mask the thought bubble of a lone crayon out in the distance."Yeah, that's not the only thang it is baby", Abigail replied in a teasing tone, unable to secure her laughter along with her other female companions despite the annoyance stewing inside of their short friend."Still though, we should probably get back to Nigel-kun here at our friend's expense", Alex commented as her friends nodded in agreement."You guys know I can hear you, right", asked the familiar voice of Nigel, his annoyed tone enough to bring his friends back to reality as they stared at him, their embarrassment enough to audit a moment of silence as they pondered what to say. Well, that is until Hoagie managed to break such tension."What we do now", the plump pilot asked in a nervous whisper."Ooh, ooh, let me try", the little Asian girl cheerfully replied, immediately scooting over towards her bald friend with nothing more than a bright smile plastered upon her cute face."Good morning Numbuh 1", she cheerfully chirped, yet even her cheery attitude seemed not enough to penetrate the deadpan look upon her British friend's face."Good Morning Numbuh 3", he coldly replied, feeling annoyance increase as she never once took her smile off his face. "Well, is there something to say?""Oh, don't be silly, I can say hi if I want to", she explained as he eyed her rather intensely."I suppose", the bald boy replied as he took another huge bite of his breakfast."Awe! Thanks for understanding! So, I bet you're excited about that big fishing trip today, aren't you", she asked in a more flirtatious tone, almost as if she were searching for the next big actor's scoop.Though surely, she must have hit some cord as his navy eyes widened in surprise, reverting to their mere grumpy storm seconds later."To be honest, I wish I weren't going", the British boy replied in possible his most blunt tone imaginable."Oh, come on, don't be such a sourpuss! We'll have lots of fun, we can catch fish and hang out with your dad, oh we can probably even stop by the new Rainbow Monkey fishing equipment store if we have time", the little girl happily stated as her excited ramblings pressed onward.Unfortunate for her that she was completely oblivious to her leader's annoyance as it seemed to grow. With every word, his temper grew. With every squeal of excitement, he felt the pounding of his head and the expression upon his face tighten. That is, until he finally had the nerve to speak his mind."How do you know it's gong to be such a great day", Nigel asked in angered tone, feeling completely validated before spotting the tears forming in his gentle friend's eyes, or even the shocked expression forming upon his teammates faces. Only then did his eyes seem to fill with surprise, even regret as he opened his mouth to speak once more."Sorry Numbuh 3...I think I'll just go eat in my bedroom for now", the British bald boy replied, the regret he felt clearly dominant within his tone as he left the room, leaving his friends in stunned silence before Hoagie spoke up once more."Uh...I think I'll go talk to him...", the plump boy suggested as he began to raise himself up from his seat."You stay here baby; Numbuh 5'll go talk to him", the serious looking black girl replied as she took of her apron, completely oblivious to her friend's disappointed stare as she began her walk down the corridor."What am I? Window dressing", he asked, his tone filled with obvious disappointment."No, but maybe look at it from this angle; you're more of a big brother figure for Nigel-kun. You have good intentions and genuine love to offer, but you fall more along the line of a brother who could only provoke his anger rather give sage advice. So to put it lightly, he needs a motherly touch in this case", the mutant brunette explained as she watched her friend's face soften in realization."I guess that makes sense. Still, I wish I could talk to him, but I guess I can only imagine what he's going through", the young boy said in a calm yet reassuring tone as his mutant friend patted him on the back."Yeah...", Wally replied with a nervous chuckle, his unsettling scowl going unnoticed, save for a curious looking Kuki.It took not long before Nigel found himself cooked up in his room again, his upper body comfortable in his computer chair while he used his levitated legs as a desk for his paperwork. Yet what constantly brought him great joy could only serve as a calming agent for what lurk inside his head, suppressed anger etched upon his face, even in his navy blue eyes as he stared at the print in front of him.Yet only the faint sound of a knock upon his door managed to receive a curious glance from him, and only a mere glance as his eyes returned to their studious task. He hadn't become so involved in his work as to not hear the cracked opening of his room's door, but only a quick glance from the corner of his eye revealed Abigail now standing in front of him. Her arms were laced together in a cross and her hazel eyes read of stern yet gentle intent, not that he seemed interested."I never said you could come in", Nigel bluntly said, never once taking his eye of the paperwork in front of him."Ya' neva' have to on these occasions", Abigail replied, her stern yet gentle tone only able to annoy him in the long run."You do realize I can keep to myself if I want to, right", he asked her rather bluntly, even as slight annoyance seeped into his tone."Oh really? Well I hate ta' break to ya', but since we all live under the same roof; yo' business is our business", the motherly girl explained, resulting in a surprised yet annoyed look upon Nigel's face before he let out a big sigh. He hated it when she was right."There's been an...unfortunate monkey wrench tossed into today's fishing plans...", the British boy explained, leaving himself with a disgusted looking expression, and a confused looking Abby."Monkey wrench? Like what-", she asked before having a stroke of realization overcome her, and her confused expression turn into a confident one."Let me guess; Uncle Ben wants ta' get in on a day out with his nephew", she asked in a reassuring yet spunky tone, one which Nigel could not help but smirk at slightly."Ten seconds flat' that's a new record for you", he replied in a blunt, yet almost playful tone despite never taking a solitary glance up at his friend."Nah, yo' just not as much of a wild card as ya' think you are baby", she replied rather coolly before silence overswept the room, that is until she merely spoke up nearly seconds later."Still, I don't get it; what's the big deal", the motherly girl calmly asked, only to receive an expression which read of mixed anger, even disbelief from her stern British friend."Really? And I suppose you would want to deal with your despised lineage one year to the date", Nigel asked, his angered tone not enough to startle the stern black girl."No, but if Numbuh 5 were you, she'd suck it up and go about her day", she replied in stern intent, her response seeming only to increase the anger budding inside her bald friend."Oh, that's right? Just go about my day as if nothing's amiss, why, that'll be great! Sitting on the lake, catching fish with my dad while the black hooded man who is my uncle looms in the back ground! It's the perfect idea, don't you think", the bald boy said in an unusually happy yet sarcastic tone, or at least until he uttered his last few words."Well what, you think he's plannin' ta' ruin yo' day or somethin'", she asked as her eyebrow raised itself and her tone became one of disbelief."It doesn't matter what his intentions are! Just his presence alone is merely a reminder of-""Okay, that's enough out of you", the spunky young black girl finally commanded in a stern tone, able to silence her angered friend if momentarily before speaking her mind once more."Now look, I understand this is a difficult day fo' ya, but you gotta remember that we're all in the same boat with you. No one wanted this", she sternly explained, yet her words only fit to further her friend's anger until he finally stood to his feet, surprising her slightly."Oh really? Then let me ask you something; do you have to deal with your heritage! Do you have to deal with the fact that you put your loved ones in danger", he asked her, controlled rage clear in his voice as his motherly friend stared at him in shock momentarily before speaking her mind once more."Then don't act like you know how I feel", the stern boy darkly replied before making himself comfortable in his own chair once more, unaware of the subtle yet angry looking expression forming upon her face."Okay, fine; act like a melodramatic brat...call me when you come back ta' reality", the black girl darkly replied as she headed straight for the door, hesitant to leave without speaking her mind one last time.Though quick was she to brush off such a notion as she slammed the door shut, oblivious to the storm of regret shining in her friend's eyes as he watched her leave his living quarters.Shortly after did Abigail find herself walking down the corridor back towards the kitchen, only to feel annoyed as she stopped to massage her aching temples."Hey Numbuh 5", replied a voice which revealed itself to her the instant she returned her gaze to normal height level; why it was none other than a cheery yet concerned looking Hoagie. "How's Numbuh 1 doing?""I wouldn't worry about it, he's still in crabzilla mode", the spunky black girl calmly replied as she watched a disappointed face carve itself into the plump nerd's face."Just my luck", he replied in a disappointed tone, one the motherly girl couldn't help but laugh at her friend's response before placing her hand on his back in comfort."Ah, don't worry, he'll come around", she replied as they took a stroll down the hallway, noticing a small smile graze his face once more."I guess, I wonder if the same thing goes for everyone else who's got a lot on their plate today", he asked himself in a curious manner, oblivious to the cringe forming upon his friend's face."Who can say", she replied in a somewhat melancholy tone, catching her friend's attention before reverting to her spunky sensibilities. "Come on man, let's go. We got the whole ahead of us."End Chap. 2 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 3: A Quiet MealYet that warm, bright sun still felt its as it spilled through the pane glass windows belonging to the McKenzie manor, illuminating corners and spaces once shrouded in darkness for hours on end. Yet even as such glorious rays bathed the beautifully built mansion, it only seemed a hinderence rather than a blessing for exhausted looking Rachel as she made her way down the red-velveted staircase. She groaned, even shied away from such bright rays dancing upon her face even while rubbing some sleep from her chocolate eyes, a small yet subtle yawn even managed to escape her mouth."So lets' see; we've had very few if any hazardous catastrophes these past few days, and very little adult activity, which means that our only major concern for today is ensuring our lunch rations arrive as scheduled...", Rachel though to herself in a calm yet calculative manner."Yet even with that being the case...how is it that I still get stuck with paperwork on a slow workday", the young girl asked herself, though much more irritated than her previous thoughts despite the small sigh that escaped her mouth."Oh well...maybe I'll have some time to work on my Dr. Time Space fan fiction sometime today", she thought, the very notion enough to lighten her previous irritable thoughts as she made her way into the kitchen.Yet only surprise seemed evident upon her face as walked in upon an unusual sight; it was her brother Harvey, snoring rather loudly as he slept at the table, his head tucked between his crossed arms. Why it was a sight so heart warming it could only bring a small smile to her soft face, not that it ceased the small yet noticeable grin which grazed her face soon after. Slowly she crept towards her sleeping sibling, bending down to his ear before uttering the words "cookie crisp" into his ear. Sure enough, it was all it took for him to awaken from his slumber in startled yet expected panic."Who! What! When! Where! Why!", the startled Harvey asked before calming down, only to turn as the sight of his devious looking sister came into his view."Good morning Harvey", she replied in a playful, only further her brother's confusion as she gave him a small wave hello."Rachel? What-", he began to ask, only a scowl to permeate his face the instant he understood what was going on. " Hey, no fair! You just walk in here, startle me awake and laugh at my expense!""You're point being", the young blonde asked her brother, a blunt yet joyful sarcastic tone clear in her voice as she took her seat beside the upset looking chestnut boy."Well no offence, but that's suppose to be my job", the buck-toothed boy angrily said to his smirking sister.""Really? So I shouldn't have been a considerate sister is what you're implying", she asked, still sounding somewhat sarcastic even as she watched her brother's temper cool to usual levels."Well, you already fill two nagging positions, three would just make you a banshee", Harvey replied in a more cocky yet bratty demeanour, finally managing to crack the devious smile upon his sister's face as it transformed into an angered, almost insulted looking expression."Well, keep talking that way and I'll be sure to live up to such claims by cutting your Sector's mission roster by 80% for the remainder of the week", Rachel said in a more stern tone, her words enough to make her little brother cringe in fear at the very thought."Ah...right...", the buck-toothed brat replied, a nervous chuckle enough to escape his throat before clearing it momentarily. "So...what's for breakfast?""You're in luck; today, Helga's informed me that we'll be having small fruit bowls, topped with a side of bacon and some chocolate milk to wash it down", the young girl calmly explained, even as she watched her brother's excited look fade into a disappointed looking one."You're joking?...Whatever happened to Cookie Crisp", he asked, disappointment clear in his tone."Unfortunately Harvey, even loyal operatives need to intake healthier food every once in awhile", the young blondecalmly yet maturely explained to her little brother, not that it did anything to wipe the scowl permeating his freckled face."Oh come on; you can't say that and still call yourself Supreme Leader of the Kids Next Door", he complained towards his calm looking sister."Well, yes, but with your track record, someone needs to provide the role of mother figure in Helga's absence", she calmly retorted, and just in time to as their stern yet loving maid Helga made her way towards the table, breakfast plates in toe."Your sister has a point you know", replied Helga, her tone stern yet commanding as she put their food in place of their respective views."Nobody asked you Helga", Harvey commented in a mocking tone."Grin and bear it then", the stern maid proclaimed, frightening the bucked-toothed boy momentarily before leaving him and his elder sibling to eat in silence.Yet silence could only permeate a room for so long as Harvey sat there, his brown eyes spoke of boredom as he eyed the grape rolling back and forth from underneath his fork. Slowly, he eyed his elder sister; she ate in quiet simplicity whilst eating her piece of cantaloupe, seemingly enjoying her meal where he did not. Yet not for much longer before he finally opened his mouth to speak once more."So...speaking of missions, is there anything big Sector W can handle today? I'd rather not go through boring paperwork again for a whole day", he asked, catching the attention of his sister as he did so."I can't say for certain Harvey; we've had a huge decrease in villain activity these past few days, but I presume that those percentages will increase once today passes", Rachel calmly explained to him while she took a sip of her chocolate milk."What? Why would-", Harvey asked in confusion, only to feel his face turn into disbelief upon digging up his own answer."Oh yeah, today's the big day, huh", he asked in an annoyed tone of disbelief. The roll of his brown eyes enough to anger his elder sister."Harvey, try and at least be more considerate; it's going to be more difficult for some than others", the young blonde tried to explain, her stern tone unable to mask her anger towards her brother's previous words."I know that, I just don't get why everyone's holding onto it...You'd think people would just want to forget and move on", he explained, unbeknownst to him however, it seemed as though his words had hit his sister like freight train as her chocolate eyes lowered in sadness."Yeah...", was all she could muster, her tone low, almost regretful as she stared at her saddened expression reflected in the milk.Yet such a moment did not go unnoticed by her buck-toothed brother as it painted a look of concern upon his freckled face, yet was seemingly stopped by the chiming of the grandfather clock before he could speak a word."Oh, look at the time; I should probably get going or else I'll miss the next shuttle to Global Command", Rachel said, her attitude and expression much more calm and cheerful than it had been several seconds before as her concerned brother mentally noted."You sure you're okay sis", he asked rather affectionately, even as concern ran through it as well." Oh yeah, don't worry about it. I'll see you later", she cheerfully remarked before quietly leaving the room, much to the dismay and concern of the little buck-toothed brat as he went to get out of his chair."You leave that chair, you get a one-way ticket to bed with no supper", replied the stern Helga, angered the young boy as he gave a brat huff before taking his place back in his seat.End chap.3 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 4: The Fox's DilemmaOnly thirty minutes remained until the clock struck 10 a.m., though in all fairness, it mattered very little to Nigel. Though truthfully, time really made no difference to him at this point. For in the hour he had locked himself away in his room, his body had barely moved from its initial position. True, his legs no longer sit atop his desk as they remained solid on the floor. Yet still, his navy eyes remain ever intent upon the print he came to know as paperwork Still, did his face remain as stern if ever grumpy than it had looked previously. So intent, he never once noticed, nor heard the slight crack of his door opening."Yo, Nigel-kun", replied a familiar female voice, a voice which made the surprised Nigel grimace in slight irritation as he turned to face his uninvited visitor; a happy looking Alex."So, you let me in, huh", she asked him rather curiously, not that her bald friend seemed to mind as he returned to his work."You do realize you let yourself in, right", Nigel calmly asked as his eyes remained upon his paperwork."Yeah, but Abby-sama let herself in", she quickly retorted, much to his annoyance."Somehow, you've cemented your drop-in status far better than she ever could", the British bald boy coldly observed, his calculation one which actually seemed to generate a face of understanding upon his mutant friend's face."Well, just be lucky I'm not Renge", the mutant girl calmly replied with a wink as she made herself comfortable upon her friend's bed, seemingly oblivious to the growing irritance clear within his eyes before opening her mouth to speak once more."So, looks like you're all packed, huh", she keenly observed as she proceeded to chat rather animatedly about their remaining friend's current packing status.Though in all honesty, Nigel could only feel himself getting lost between Kuki and Wally's desperate attempt for shot-gun as her voice became drowned out by annoyance, though clearly had such irritance reached its boiling point as he turned to face his chatty friend."Two-Seventy-Three, do you have any real reason for being here, aside from attempting to yack my ears off", the British leader asked in stern yet irritated authority, the raging storm in his eyes all the more clear to his bewildered friend."Well, if you must know Mr. Grumpypnats, I came to check-up on you", the mutant girl replied as she crossed her arms, her moral "high ground" tone rather expected from the bald boy."Really? And what makes you so certain I need checking up on", he asked, his tone still clearly annoyed in sound as he crossed his own arms."Because I know you...Well that and the fact that your aura was a dead giveaway", she explained.And though surprise seemed to shine clear within his navy blue eyes, the only thing he could seem to muster up was a small sigh of defeat; there was no way to avoid such a daunting discovery."Unfortunately, there's been a slight change in plan", the bald boy calmly explained as he stood up from his chair."Change in plan? Oh, you didn't cancel the fishing trip at last notice, did you", she asked in a rather concerned tone, much to her friend's annoyance."No, but I certainly wish "Uncle" Ben would take a leave of absence", he replied, a light touch of spite clearly seeping into his tone as he did so."Uncle Ben?...Oh, Father's joining us today, isn't he", the mutant brunette asked in a rather disappointed fashion." Yes, though you're usually a lot faster at guessing these things", the British boy keenly observed."True, but it's not like I know EVERYTHING that goes on in that bald head of yours", she replied in a rather snarky tone as her leader felt his irritation rise ever slightly with such a remark before letting out a small sigh."Right, I'll just ignore that one", he calmly stated."So, I take it the great hero of Sector V has a few tricks up his sleeve to get through today", Alex asked in a more perky tone from her previous one."Well unfortunately, I'm in a situation where I can't ignore him. So, I have no choice but to resort to my next best option", Nigel discreetly explained, as if he were explaining to her a mission basics."Deadpan Snarker Mode", she asked, almost confident in her answer being correct."What else", he bluntly asked as he returned to his desk area."Well...that certainly sounds like it could be fun", the curly haired brunette declared in an optimistic tone, much to the irritation of her bald friend as he rolled his eyes in clear annoyance."Well, nice to know that my problems serve as your amusement", he casually replied in sarcasm, receiving the attention of his female friend even as he began to neatly organize his paperwork alphabetically."Oh, come on, I didn't mean it like that. I meant it just might be fun to...you know...see your uncle get knocked down a peg", she explained, though never once did she receive any attention from her workaholic friend as he remained sternly attentive towards his work.."Of course, you should never judge a book by its previous covers...Even for a related arch nemesis...", the mutant brunette calmly iterated, her metaphor enough to draw out a small sigh from her stern leader."Yes, but somehow I doubt he'd be looking for peace today", Nigel said rather bluntly, his navy eyes never once meeting up with his hyperactive friend's eyes even as his words reached her."Well, so what if he's not? It's not like he can do anything to you in public sight", she bluntly remarked."Do you recall that Sousaphone incident with my dad", the bald boy bluntly asked, peering over slightly to glance at her confident face shattering upon realization."Oh yeah...Well...", she tried to retaliate, though not very well as her nervous tone suggested, at least momentarily."Look Nigel-kun, you know what my advice to you would be; don't let him get to you. Just find the things and people that will help get you through today.""Yeah, maybe if this were a different day Two-Seventy-Three", the British boy replied, his sarcastic yet blunt sounding tone enough to dishearten the mutant girl ever so slightly."Oh come on, there's got to be at least something you can look forward to today", she replied in a rather blunt tone."Aside from you guys being there to ease the tension, I think that's all been covered...", Nigel bluntly expressed, much to the confusion of his curly haired friend."What about you dad", she asked in a rather confused tone."My dad? Oh yeah...I guess that'll be fun...", he replied rather oddly.In truth, the young leader was trying ever so desperately to mask the nervous feeling which seemed to overtake his tone, even his expression. Though truthfully, his emotions lay out in plain sight for his mutant friend, her brown eyes beaming with confidence the more she observed the greyish tint of his aura."Something tell's me it's not just about your uncle today...is it...", she asked rather curiously.Such words were enough to make the British bald boy turn in his chair, unable to comprehend or even mask the startled look upon his face as he found his friend staring at him in confidence and cockiness."I'm right...aren't I...", the mutant girl asked, her calculating presence and tone enough to further surprise the stunned boy, even as he watched her make her way towards him."Well, I wouldn't exactly-""Oh, come on! Tell me I'm right. Huh? Huh", she asked in a much more chipper tone, unable to comprehend the irritated look growing upon her friend's face even as she playfully poked his ribcage."Alright! Alright! Yes! Happy now", Nigel asked, his irritation now clear upon his face and even in his tone."Well, not with that attitude", the hyperactive girl admitted, garnering only a face palm of annoyance from her bald friend.It was only then could silence overtake their conversation only momentarily, momentarily in that it only ceased the instant a uncertain looking Nigel raised his head high to face his mutant friend."I know I'm going to regret this later, but do you mind if I admit something to you", Nigel asked, his tone curious yet somewhat regretful."Of course; you know I ain't leaving until you do honey", Alex delightfully declared to her disgruntled looking friend."Yes, I know", he bluntly replied, even as he took a deep breath before speaking once more. " You see...I'm happy that you guys are going to be with me today...But to be honest, I was actually hoping I could just have some time with my dad today...so I could make peace with a few things...""No offence, but as I recall you already made peace with your dad's wishes", she said."I did...or at least I thought I did...", he tried to explain, his navy eyes clearly detailed with a smidge of confliction not unnoticed by his female friend."Hmm, and yet, you sound so hesitant in that statement...", she remarked in a rather observant manner."Well of course I am! You think I want to feel this way", he asked her, his tone an unsettling regret. "I mean, I love my dad the way he is...And yes, I respect his wishes. But...sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have both..."And as his words faded into memory, that unsettling regret seemed to etch itself upon his face. It seemed to even etch itself into those navy blue eyes as he took his focus away from his concerned looking friend, allowing for a small sigh to escape his throat as that endless abyss seemed to grow within his navy orbs with each passing second."Don't be", replied the mutant girl, catching the sudden attention of her friend as he looked up to face her determined face."What", Nigel asked, confusion etched upon his face as he raised an eyebrow at this sudden prospect."You shouldn't have to feel ashamed; instead, do what you always do and find a way around it, just like the Nigel-kun I know would do", Alex remarked with a deep sense of determination in her tone, even in her eyes.Unfortunately, it seemed not enough to faze her blunt looking friend once more."I appreciate your sentiment Two-Seventy-Three, but I doubt feelings are as easy to solve as actual missions", he calmly explained in a stern tone as he dismissed his friend's notions."Then consider it this way; "He who is lost must find peace and importance in one whom cares only about being ones self"", the young brunette sweetly explained."Wait a minute, you're giving me a riddle", he asked."Just go a long with it why don't you", the mutant girl angrily retorted, though much to her shock and surprise did her bald friend begin to laugh slightly."Oh alright; I know it must be important if you start yacking about it like a monkey, so I'll give it a shot. Thanks Two-Seventy-Three", the bald boy said with a smile, his tone one of genuine gratitude."Domotashimashta", the mutant girl replied rather sweetly, a small smile creeping upon her face even as she felt herself stunned by such a sudden change around, only to find themselves interrupted by the sound of a nearby car horn."Nigel old bean, it's time to get going", cried out the loud yet friendly voice of Nigel's father Monty, pulling them back into reality."Oh, right! Coming dad", he screamed through the window, collecting his bags as he did so. "I'll see you in a bit Two-Seventy-Three.""Certainly", the young mutant calmly replied as she watched him slowly proceed to leave his room.Though unbeknownst to him did she begin to lower her head, her once bright and lively eyes beginning to loose their luster as they began to describe deep resentment, even regret."Well...I guess it's nice to know that I'm not the only one...", she quietly muttered to herself.Yet even as she did, she only feel her words being overclouded by the reminder of an evil cackle. It was a cackle which made her grit her teeth, even tense her hands into fists as they continually shook.They couldn't believe their eyes, they could believe their luck. In fact, neither Wally nor Kuki could convince themselves of what stood before them; their arch nemesis Father, dressed in his normal attire as he too stared at them in stern contempt. Yet their shocked expressions could only pale in comparison to the scowl lingering upon their leader's face, an expression left unaware by Wally as he went to speak."Ah, Numbuh 1, just what the-""Don't ask, just get in the car", Nigel commanded in a rather cold tone, prompting to frighten Wally before he and his female friend proceeded to call shot-gun."Oh wait, Abby", he said rather calmly, catching the attention of his female black friend. "I just wanted to apologize for earlier...I shouldn't have acted the way I did.""Ah, don't worry about it. Besides, yo' good ta' go the minute ya' cool off that hot head of yo's", Abigail remarked in a spunky, even laughing as her friend felt his irritation rise ever so slightly at such a joke.Yet unbeknownst to him, the mutant girl could not help but unleash a small smile towards her friend, feeling as though everything will work itself out as she too hopped into the cramped vehicle.End chap. 4 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 5: How One FeelsHeavy panting; save from such clunky vibration emitting itself from those crimson sandal soles, it proved to be the only sound the young Supreme Leader could hear, even as she felt herself continually running through the stretched corridor. Her legs were wobbly, her breath sounded hoarse, even her chocolate eyes spoke of panic. Though truthfully, it seemed all she could do to avoid kicking herself as she finally found herself reaching her destination; a pair of twin purple doors. It lit her eyes with relief, relief which consumed her even as she felt herself run through the door, stopping only momentarily to catch her breath after all this time. Upon catching her breath, the young blonde's view became occupied by two familiar looking people; a confused looking Herbie, while a confused looking Fanny stood beside him." Oh, Good morning Numbuh 65.3, Numbuh 86. I apologize for being so late, but my space shuttle arrived much later than anticipated", Rachel replied, her tone sincere yet very apologetic."I don't know why you still take that shuttle; thanks to them, you're already late by 4.5 minutes. But, it's your call Sir. Oh also, your paperwork is sitting on that desk over there", replied Herbie, or Numbuh 65.3 as he walked away, his snooty tone and delivery enough to transform the young blonde's face into one of annoyance."Thanks Herbie", she replied, her tone much less blunt and angry sounding as her red-headed friend observed."Let me guess; ye' want te' punish him to the Amish sector for a week, don't ye'", asked Fanny, her question resulting in a small chuckle from her blonde friend and superior."Good Morning to you too, Fanny", the young girl calmly replied as she made her way towards the desk her fellow operative had mentioned previously."Oh come on; ye' know you'd resist if ye' had the chance", the Irish girl replied in her usual cocky delivery, following her friend in pursuit."Maybe, though I'd probably hand the reins to you if I were given such a chance", she replied, though never once did her irritated looking friend respond in any manner. "Now, about my work schedule-""I wouldn't get yer' hopes up lass; most of it's paperwork", her Irish friend bluntly stated, making the young blonde sigh in aggravation, her eyes becoming moist with aggravation as well."Wonderful; even on slow workdays, the grip of paperwork never seems to allude me", Rachel said in a rather sarcastic manner, her tone almost blunt sounding as she took the check board into her hands, beginning to skim the items on the list carefully before a familiar item caught her eye."Oh, look at that; it appears that you have an assignment today", Rachel said, her chipper tone, enough to catch the attention of her aloof looking friend once more."What", Fanny screeched rather loudly as she checked the paper over, feeling her curiosity being shot the instant she read the task at hand; delivering paperwork to Hoagie Gilligan of Sector V. "Oh great!""Oh, don't be so negative; I'd be honoured just to be nominated for an assignment if I were in your shoes", the young girl calmly explained to her sour puss looking friend."I'd rather eat dog food than deliver paperwork te' that dorky slob! Of course, bein' Global Tactical Officer does have its advantages...", the Irish redhead replied, her devious smile enough to indicate the dark wheels turning in her head."Right...", replied the young Supreme leader, her face a clear sign of being weirded out by such an odd remark. Though reluctantly, she could only choose to ignore it as she returned her attention to her schedule sheet.It only took so long after that before Fanny felt the silence that had overcome their conversation, yet where her fair young superior was currently occupied by material, she in stark contrast could only feel herself slipping into mild boredom even as she watched her friend overlook her assignments for today. Though only shortly after did a peculiar sight manage to raise her eyebrow inattention; shy and timid Bartie conversing with the loose and spunky Virginia. Though in truth, his timid demeanour was nothing new, especially if Virginia was involved. No, what caught her attention was their very discussion concerning the ZERO incident itself; they both seemed to stutter, even have trouble just opening their mouths to even speak a single word to one another. Truthfully, it was a sight that could only bring disgust to her already unsettling face. Yet could only bring mild concern to the face of her blonde friend as she began to eye her friend rather intently."Fanny, is something wrong", asked Rachel, her concerned tone unfortunately not enough to erase the darkened expression upon her friend's face."Don't ye' think it's disgustin'", asked the angered sounding Fanny, confusing her friend even further."Disgusting", she asked in deep confusion."How people are talkin' about the ZERO incident; talkin' about it like it's some BIG ordeal", the Irish redhead complained, punctuating the word big as she did so."That's because it was a big ordeal for some", the stern blonde replied."Oh really? And yet everyone's talkin' about it like they stole a couple of bucks from their mom's purse or somethin'! It's pathetic", she complained, her harsh tone angering her blonde friend with each passing second."Has it occurred to you that perhaps some people aren't quite as persistent to discuss their feelings on the matter", the young girl asked, her chocolate eyes now filled with a budding anger as she stared her friend down."Yeah, but don't ye' think that if everyone's bothered by it they should just say it and get it over with", she asked, her frustration now as clear in her voice as a bell's chime."Fanny I wish it were that simple myself, but you're just going to have to accept that some people aren't as willing to discuss their feelings", she tried to explain, her stern tone unfortunately not enough to diminish the stone faced look upon her friend's face."Bah, why would anyone be so stupid", she angrily retorted, annoyance still clear upon her face and even in her body language as she crossed her arms and turned away from her stern looking friend.Yet in turning away, she could not bear witness to Rachel's expression; it was stern, yet clearly anger had settled upon her delicate features as she opened her mouth to speak."Not everyone can express their feelings in such a simple manner, you and I should that better than anyone", replied the young blonde, her tone stern and commanding."And if memory serves, you don't exactly have very good memories of today yourself", she sternly replied, unable to notice Fanny glaring in silent intent before turning to face her once more."Well, if I'm such a hypocrite, then you can probably lump yourself in with me as well", she replied rather harshly, watching her friend's face turn into one of shock as she did so."Excuse me", she asked in an angered tone.Yet she could only watch as the Irish redhead walked away, leaving her answer less even as she took the files with her. Though, this itself was not merely enough to stop the stubborn young blonde as she rose from her chair, walking her friend in hot pursuit as she did so."Fanny, I order you to finish your thought", Rachel commanded as her friend began to make her way through the electronic door, watching her hesitant briefly before pressing her back up against the door."I'm not stupid ye' know", Fanny replied rather intently."What", Rachel asked, confusion clear in her voice."I saw that look in yer eye; those "sad puppy-dog" eyes were on ye' the minute ye' walked in here", she explained as her friend stood her ground and listened to her observations."Your point being", she asked rather sternly."Let's here it then; what's on your "pretty" little mind today", Fanny asked, her tone curious yet intent.Yet such a simple question was enough to send the young blonde into shock, shock that seemed persistent even as she attempted to regain her stern composure."I...I...I don't think I can say...", she remarked, her nervous tone enough to deeply anger her redhead friend."Always actin' reserved...Just say how ye' feel dammit", the stubborn Irish girl screeched as she turned to face her nervous looking friend completely."Well, you see Fanny...I would love to discuss my feelings with you...But I'm afraid that some of them, even more personal ones...well...I fear that not even you could understand", she attempted to explain, her nervous demeanour clear within her chocolate eyes even as she spotted her friend beginning to tense up."Is that so...", she began, tensity, even controlled anger clear in her tone as she felt her body shake in frustration. "Fine then; wallow in yer' own self pity!"Yet quickly did the door divide them before Rachel could even say anything. Instead, the only thing she could do was stare pathetically at the floor; her chocolate filled with regret as her mind remained on how she had handled such a situation. Yet little did she know that her stubborn Irish friend too felt brift with regret, though not as obvious considering the scowl which permeated her face."Honestly Rachel...I wish ye' wouldn't act like such a wallflower at times", she thought to herself, though clearly her tone was one of frustration, even as she made her way towards the docking bay.End chap. 5 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Only 10:30 in morning, yet by now, today's sun shawn bright with optimism. It was was an optimism which permeated the skyline, illuminating not just the magnificent tree house in its path, but even the sleepy neighbourhood of Ebeneezer Way. Truthfully, it was a beautiful sight to behold. And yet, such beauty seemed all too familiar to the little Irish redhead known as Fanny. Unfortunately, such beauty proved not enough to wipe the scowl settled into her freckled face even as landed her vehicle upon the docking bay. Yet that scowl could only deepen the instant she hopped out of her vehicle, only to look upon her destination; the Sector V tree house. A great, deep disappointment could only shine within her emerald eyes before she let out an aggravated sigh; clearly, she was not looking forward to this, even as she made her way towards the front door.Quick was she to arrive to the front door, even quick was she to ring the admittedly annoying bell chime Hoagie had installed just recently. Yet clearly what needed work was her patience. It started out simple; she crossed her arms and began to tap her booted foot, wandering into the depths of her mind as she took to the waiting game. And yet two minutes had turned into five, and eventually five minutes became ten. And unfortunately for the poor souls still left in that tree house, it appeared as though her patience had warn thin the instant her impatient expression mutated into one of pure anger."Alright, that's it", Fanny shrieked as she forcibly slammed the front door to the tree house open."HOAGIE GILLIGAN, you better-", she began, and yet no one answer. In fact, the only thing she could muster was but blank stare at the unusually quiet atmosphere surrounding the area."Gilligan?...Gilligan", she screamed at the top of her lungs.And yet, no answer did she receive but the sound of her own voice shrieking upon reverberation. Regardless she made her way through the empty tree house, yet it was clear that her freckled face indicated a sense of oddity, almost uncomfortably. The sound of a blowtorch however, caught her attention as she found herself following the sound all the way out into the tree-house hangar. Though once more did a scowl permeate her face as she found herself staring at her target; Hoagie P. Gilligan. Like any mechanic, he found himself smothered in grease stains. He couldn't even call himself safe from food stains as he took a bite of his greasy chilli dog, and though his face slump at the notion of having dropped some chilli on his shirt, it seemed of little inconvenience to him as he lopped up another bite of his food. He seemed happy nonetheless, though it was enough to make the bitchy redhead cringe in disgust even as she approached him from behind."Gilligan...", she asked, yet received no answer."GILLIGAN", she shrieked this time, her voice enough to surprise the plump pilot before he banged his head upon the vehicle hood. Yet even as he rubbed his sore spot, he was quick to turn and face the banshee he had suspected behind him."Oh, hi Numbuh 86", Hoagie said, his tone blunt yet slightly nervous despite the scawf he got from his female superior."Typical boy; never even noticin' a woman's presence, unless she's-""Hey, you try welding a rusted bolt; it not easy", he replied in a mildly frustrated tone, even as he watched her emerald eyes roll at his words."That's what they all say", she replied, her arrogant tone enough to upset the usually easy-going pilot. Yet the uneasy look in her eyes seemed enough to soften his angered expression before clearing his throat."So...what brings you here today", Hoagie asked as he approached her, his flirty tone enough to make her groan in irritation. "Oh come one; you can't accuse me of acting more "gentlemanly".""I'd rather be "romanced" by that monkey Numbuh 4", she replied."Yeah, but he'd probably be escorted to the Happy Hotel before that ever happened", he replied rather cheerfully, even giggling at the prospect despite the irritated look clear upon her freckled face."Just take it", Fanny responded, her annoyed tone clear in her voice as she shoved the paperwork into his hands."Oh, that paperwork I asked for. Thanks Numbuh 86", he responded with giddy glee."Yeah, whatever", she replied rather casually as he turned his back away from her momentarily. "If anythin' ye' should thank Numbuh 362 makin' sure they were sent down here.""Yeah, but you still delivered them despite how upset you look, so it's only fair that I thank you", the plump pilot responded, his words enough to make the Irish girl's vicious emerald eyes widen in surprise."What makes ye' say that", she asked as he turned to face her once more."Well, you may not say much, but your eyes sure tell a whole story too-", the chubby pilot began in a suave tone, only to feel undercut by the fiery look emitting in his cohort's eyes."Uh...right...", he replied, he even chuckled a little before returning to his work station.In essence, her mission was now complete. And yet, suspicion seemed to have overcome the Irish redhead as she continued to watch the plump boy go about his business. He seemed so chipper, so happy, so carefree. It was the kind of suspicion to keep her still in place, the type to mold her expression into one of suspicion, even make her raise an eyebrow as she opened her mouth to speak."You seem chipper", Fanny said, her tone low yet observant."What", Hoagie asked, turning to face a now suspicious looking Fanny this time."I mean ye' don't seem affected by what today is", she explained in her observant tone."Oh, you mean that! Well, there's not much to be fazed by", he sincerely replied, leaving her still suspicious as he turned his attention to his monkey wrench once more."Really? Not even that "closet" incident", she asked in a suspicious tone as he turned to face her once more."Well if memory serves, that was your fault", he replied, his tone much more irritated despite the angered look upon his superior's face."Oh please, I could've dusted those zombies if YOU hadn't kept on blabberin'", she arrogantly replied, emphasizing the word "you" as if to mock him."You were the one positioned with a gun to the door", he replied in a irritated tone."And you were the one with your noise hole open; end of discussion", she replied in an arrogant tone, furthering the glare her subordinate gave her before finally waving his hands in defeat."Fine; believe what you want to believe. But I can promise you this; the day I find that security tape, you regret the day you spoke those words as I finally get to say "Ha! Ha!", to your face", the plump geek replied, his confidence in such words however seemed not enough to scare the smug looking Fanny."Go ahead; maybe that'll be the day I finally admit me' closet obsession with Rainbow Monkeys,and start wearin' me' "I Heart Hoagie" t-shirt around Moon Base", the bitchy redhead replied, her mocking tone enough to satisfy the confident looking boy."Fair enough", he replied rather suavely. "But will you also eat 5 dozen chilli cheese dogs? Including a Baker's Dozen!""Let's make it 6 dozen", she replied in a smug tone, her answer enough to light up Hoagie's face with delight."Good, then it's a bet", he replied with glee, though soon was he to return to bolting a tiny screw in the COOL-BUS.Yet no sooner had he said such words did silence occur between the two cohorts, a silence which seemed not to affect the still suspicious looking Fanny before she opened her mouth to speak seconds later."Well, ye' don't have te' hide how ye' feel fer' my sake", she explained despite continuing to eye him as if he were her prey."I'm not hiding how I feel", Hoagie explained."Yeah, sure-Wait, what", she asked, surprise clear in her tone as she continually took in his words."Everything I said just now is how I feel. I mean yeah, I feel a bit upset that I couldn't manage to help Numbuh 1 or spare you guys, but I've just sort of accepted it as something I did wrong. But I guess that's just kind of who I am. So if people want to be angst y about it, I won't mind, it's just not my thing, you know?"About now is where he felt comfortable with such words, yet if only he could see the surprised look which seemingly dominated the freckled girl's face currently. Every word she took into account, every breath of tone she understood, at least until she cleared her throat to speak once more."Well, it's about time someone agreed with me", said Fanny, her tone a mix of anger and arrogance as she spoke. "Ye' see how everyone talks about it on Global Command, it's like they're afraid of somethin'.""Sounds to me like they just have a harder time talking about their feelings about it", the plump pilot said in an observant tone, even as she scawfed him once more."Now you're soundin' like Rachel, and even she's actin' like a hypocrite", she replied, her tone of disbelief a perfect match for her vicious looking emerald eyes."Yeah, but you sound like you're hiding stuff too", he said rather honestly.And with such simple words did the young Irish girl find her eyes widen with shock, her mind beginning to flash towards past images as she felt herself be overcome with shock. Images of a determined Rachel off to play saviour, images of her guilty conscious towards the secret of the Recommissioning Module, images of a crusty old woman in her own clothing terrorizing and shaping the happy-go-lucky boy seen before her. These flashes, they made her shake, they painted her face with fear. In fact, they even made her speak once more."R-Right...I should probably get going...See ya'", she replied as she began to head for the door, her shaky tone enough to catch the attention of a now concerned looking Hoagie."Hey, Numbuh 86, wait up", he cried out, his tone now clear with panic as he chased after her.Yet clearly her slim legs were in better shape than his as she quickly made her way out the front entrance and back to her shuttle. Though unbeknownst to her did she hear a cry in the distance, a surprise to her as she turned to face her cohort Hoagie; concern clear upon his face as he ran towards her. Sure, he had to catch his breath upon catching up to her, but none the less did his face detail concern, even with those goggles covering his baby blue eyes."What do you want", she asked in her usual tough tone, attempting to mask her shakiness from seconds previous."I just wanted to ask if you're going to be okay", he asked in a concerned tone, one which made her raise an eyebrow in suspicion."What does it matter to you", she asked, her tone the same as her previous sentence."Well, call me an old softie, but I just can't help to see a girl in despair", he replied, his tone genuine if not mildly suave.It was the type of sentence to make her eyes widen in realization, it even made her blush in fact. But of course, the Irish redhead could only feel her pride overtake her once more before clearing her throat."Yeah, as if any girl would be stupid enough te' fall fer' that one", she replied, her mean-spirited tone intact once more despite the clear shade of light pink now emitting from her cheeks.Slowly but surely did she walk back to her ship, yet the embarrassed look of arrogance remain as clear as day upon her freckled face even as she entered the cockpit. After safely buckling in, her last glimpse of Hoagie caught him waving at her, all the while giving her a smile. True, such a smile did feel comforting. But never once did her pride fade as the ship finally began its course back to the radiant moon in the sky. Unbeknownst to her however, such a lift off was what currently fuelled the smile clear upon the chubby boy's face."She'll be fine", Hoagie said in a tone of confidence, one which seemed to slowly fade into slightly saddened yet concerned expression. "I wish I could say the same for Numbuh 1 though."End chap.6 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- That damn ticking clock; never once did it ring a different chime, nor hum a different tune, just the same one repeating itself in an endless loop every sixty minutes. In retrospect, it seemed but a mild irritation which remained no one's responsibility, though never once did it appear to cause Patton unrest as his face indicated. Instead, he merely sat atop the comfy lounge chair Global Command, though his face indicated a disinterest in pastrami sandwiches. Yet that proved only a mild hinderence compared to what his eyes indicated; they read of sadness, of regret, of a lost puppy uncertain of where its place was in this world."Patton", asked a sweet, familiar voice which startled him, though one quick glance and his face became a mix of joy and shock upon seeing his friend standing before him, confusion clear upon her face while a small soda can lay clear in her grasp."Rachel, hi", replied Patton, his tone one of nervous unrest while he cheeks blushed red with embarrassment."Hi...Do you mind if I sit with you", she asked, her own nervous yet calm sounding tone enough to guarantee an immediate response from her equally nervous friend."Oh Rachel, you give me too much credit; of course I mind if you sit", he tried to respond sarcastically, yet the nervous tone stuck all the way through, giving her reason to smile as she took her seat beside him.For just one moment, all was silent for them. Their faces were turned away from one another, their cheeks remained ever so lightly brushed with rose tinted blush while a nervous tint remained engraved in their respective eyes. It was only upon Rachel's sudden clearing of her throat did she turn to face her dear friend once more."So, I take it you're on lunch break", she proceeded to ask him rather calmly as he turned to face her as well."Yeah, but I'm getting pretty sick of pastrami every other day", the boy replied rather casually, that is before he raised an eyebrow to his blonde friend. "Say, how come you don't have a lunch?""Oh, I already ate", she humbly replied."Let me guess; meatball sandwich", the raven haired boy asked in a rather cocky fashion, feeling his confidence resurface the instant she sent a devious smirk his way."How did you guess", the young blonde asked rather deviously as she took a sip of her soda, yet only concern became evident upon the young boy's face as he witnessed her swig gulp after gulp.Though once she finally resurfaced for a breath of fresh air did confusion become rather evident in both her chocolate eyes, even her delicate face."Is something wrong", she asked rather innocently."Well, call me stupid, but I don't think I've ever seen you swig so much coke in one sitting", he explained to his best intention."True, but then again, this is my third one today", the young girl explained in a rather casual manner, not that it did much to enlighten the young boy."Uh, don't you think you should cut back a little then", he asked in a slightly concerned tone."What? You don't think I can control my drinking", she asked him in a slightly stern tone."Well, not to sound paranoid, but I 'd think twice about slurring your mouth off at an important meeting", the young boy replied in a cocky manner, one that could only muster a smile from his friend's stern face."I appreciate your concern Patton, but I assure you that I'm capable of holding my soda", the young girl calmly explained, taking another swig of her coke as she did so."I wouldn't say that. Remember the time Chad betrayed us? You were so stressed out, you drank yourself silly enoughthat I had to take you home that night", he asked, his cocky vibrato clear in both his face and his tone as he crossed his arms, despite the minor affect it had upon his blonde friend."True, but even you have your off days. Remember last year's Christmas Eve party", she asked, her tone and expression a mere duplicate of his own as she too crossed her arms, watching his cocky expression decimate in a mere matter of seconds."Okay, fine...", he began in an embarrassed tone. "But, if you do have any problems, just let me know okay", he finished, his determined words enough to make the young blonde blush a light shade of pink."That's very sweet of you Patton, but you really don't have to do that...", the young girl explained, attempting to cover her touched tone with calm integrity even as he smiled towards her."Yeah, but...I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you", the young boy explained.Such words; they were the kind of words to make her turn the other cheek, even as a sweet smile lay permanent upon her lovely face. In fact, they were even the kind to make him turn the other cheek in embarrassment, still flattered however that she took such honest words seriously.In truth, a perfect moment for reflection. Yet unfortunate for them that such a moment could be interrupted by a passing pair of 44 twins Pete and Peter. Their mere presence proved true enough to snap both from their entranced state, yet their passing conversation is what intrigued them; the mention of the ZERO incident. Though truthfully, it was the type of topic to induce nervous laughter from both of them before they fell silent once more. Silent that is, until the still nervous looking Rachel spoke up."So...how have you been coping", Rachel asked, her nervous tone covered well by her genuine yet calm sounding concern."Not well", Patton replied rather bluntly as his answer made her sigh."Well, I guess that puts us in the same boat", the young blonde replied, her blunt tone enough to catch the attention of her upset looking friend."What", he asked in a rather curious manner."Oh, nothing important", she assured him. "Anyway, you seem to be handling your situation pretty well.""Yeah, but it still lingers in the back of my mind...I don't know, it's just like a bad nightmare that just won't go away...", the young boy explained, his regret filled tone ever prevalent as his face suggested that same emotion.Yet ever so touched was he to find the soft hand of his beloved friend upon his gloved one, enough to find his face turning to meet her concerned looking chocolate eyes, even enough to find himself blushing ever so slightly at her deep concern."Would you like to talk about it?...It might put your mind at ease", the young blonde asked, her tone was sweet yet concerned, and her words rang of sincerity.Yet unaware was she that such sincere words could only muster cringe worthy shock upon his handsome face, shock he seemed desperate to cover-up as he opened his mouth to speak."Sorry, but...I don't think that would be a good idea Rachel", he explained."Why not", she asked in confusion, even as she watched a deep sigh escape his breath."Because you wouldn't understand", the young boy replied, his words enough to make her raise an eyebrow even as he stood up from the couch."What wouldn't I understand", Rachel asked, her tone ever more stern this time as she too sat up from the couch."Look, I just think you'd be better off not knowing what's on my mind", he explained, raising his voice as he felt his patience reaching its limit."Well what are you afraid of Patton? You can't honestly believe I'd be so quick to judge", the young girl asked as she too felt her voice beginning to rise in frustration."That depends; you think I'd be this desperate to hide it if I didn't know you", the young boy asked in a rather blunt tone as he watched her face turn from surprise to one of controlled frustration."You can't predict everything on my mind", she replied, her tone one of clear frustration."I could make an educated guess", he replied in his tone of blunt frustration."Really? Then I suppose you know that I'm currently not seeing eye to eye with Fanny? Do you know that I wish I had other matters to attend to besides paperwork? Do you know that as far as I'm concerned, you have nothing to feel ashamed over", the young Supreme Leader said as her voice began to rise into one of anger.For a moment, her stern yet angered integrity seemed enough to allow the young boy's expression to waver. Unfortunately, it could only last so long before he found the courage to shake off such a nervous hesitation."Yeah, well I...I doubt you'd think that", he replied in frustration, turning to face the doorway as he did so.Yet even as she witness him walk towards the door, the only reaction it could garner from her was a small sigh as she put her hand to her forehead, the immediately after did she begin to follow in his direction."I don't understand; why would you mention an issue you have no intention of elaborating on", Rachel asked, her stern yet frustrated tone enough to make her friend sigh in frustration as he turned to face her once more."Well how was I suppose to know you'd start prying", Patton asked, his tone of frustration further outlined by his expression."Was there any doubt I wouldn't", she asked him, her frustration ever prevalent in both her expression and her tone as she crossed her arms, something her raven haired friend took note of."Patton, I can't comprehend why you're acting this way, but you need to remember that your burdens don't trump ours. We're all in the same boat as you, we all memories we regret, actions, even thoughts we regret", the young Supreme Leader attempted to sternly explain, even as her words were met by his unwavering stern expression."Do you know that for sure", he asked her rather sternly, throwing her off guard momentarily before she regained her stern composure."No", the young girl sternly yet calmly replied."Then don't act like you do", he replied in a stern yet blunt tone, only to feel himself sigh upon seeing her stern expression threaten to blossom into anger."Look Rachel, I...It goes beyond honour or even a bad memory... I'm just not sure if you're ready to hear what I have to say...", the raven haired boy explained.And as he did, his tone became soothing, his blunt mouth line transformed into a saddened frown, even his black eyes softened slightly while maintained their frustrated glisten. In truth, it was enough to soften the young blonde's stern expression into one of genuine concern as it had been prior. It remained ever so, even as she watched him turn to face the doorway once more."Well, I apologize for prying when it wasn't necessary, but I only did so because I care", she explained, her tone a mixture of stern yet genuine sounding concern."Yeah, well don't even bother", he replied rather coldly, unaware of the hurtful expression upon her delicate face before it hardened into a stern expression once more."Very well then...I'll see you around Patton...Come and chat with me when you decide to act your age", she sternly replied as she made her way passed him.Quickly, she made her way towards the doorway, her face stern yet clear with anger. Yet, unaware was she to the necessary mental smack the young Drill Sergeant delivered to his regretful looking face.It appeared all too quiet, even all too dim within the confounds of Rachel's busy office. Everywhere one looked, it seemed cloaked in shadows, the only visible light source available a small desk lamp strong enough to illuminate the paperwork laying in front of the young Supreme Leader. Yet a solitary glance at her, and it appeared believable that her mind seemed torn between the occupation paperwork, and a secondary matter entirely as her frustrated chocolate eyes depicted."Why must you be so stubborn Patton", she asked herself in thought as her chocolate eyes remained ever so upon the sheet of paper staring her down."Don't you realize that I'm suffering too?...Don't you realize that I...that I..."Yet, she seemed at such a lost to finish her thought. Though quite clear was the sorrow that slowly glossed over her chocolate eyes, the subtle drooping of her head as her hand reached over to her heart, even clenching at it momentarily. Though quick was she to dismiss such a state with a remedial sigh, and a slow collapse into her chair. All she required was a moment of tranquillity she told herself, allowing her eyes to remain shut as she felt herself carried away by the blissful silence titled nothing.She felt so calm, so peaceful, enough that remained unaware of Patton's presence outside her door minutes later. True, his face depicted a nervous expression, even allowing a quick gulp to slither down his throat. Though eventually did he find the courage to knock upon the door, unfortunate for him though he received no immediate answer."Rachel...", he asked though received no answer, giving him reason to knock once more. "Rachel...", he asked again, raising an eyebrow when no answer came once more. It was only shortly after did he finally have any sense to let himself into her office, admittedly nervous by his unwarranted welcome."Look, Rachel, I just wanted to apologize for earlier...I didn't mean to upset you, it's just-"Though one look upon the young girl, and he could only feel surprised upon her current state. There she lye in wake; her body was leaned up against her comfy office chair, her head lay off to the side, her arms remained crossed over another, even her mouth was opened ever so slightly to allow her passage of oxygen. She seemed at peace, lost within the realms of her own tranquillity. And truthfully, it seemed enough to soften the young boy's face into a warm smile as he made his way towards her, even placing a strand of hair away from her peaceful face before feeling himself become entrance by such sleeping elegance."Well, you certainly look peaceful, don't you...", he asked the sleeping girl, his tone a dreamy whisper as he felt himself falling deeper into such peaceful bliss the more he glanced at her.Though eventually, he could feel reality beginning to settle in as his mind reminded him of the responsibilities he held today on his own base. Though ever prevalent was his dreamy state as he he kept his entranced eyes upon his beloved friend, caressing her soft cheek ever so delicately before leaving an inevitable kiss mark upon it."Sweet dream my love...", the young boy replied in a dreamy whisper, his smile ever prevalent as he then made his way for the door. Though blissfully unaware was he of her quiet murmuring, that is before she spoke."Patton...", replied the young blonde in a groggy yet sleepy tone, catching his surprised attention as he turned around to face her once more in complete silence.A quick nervous "nah" however, was all it took to forget the incident as he made his way out of her peaceful environment.End chap.7 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The clock chimed 11:30 on the sunny villa known as Gallagher fishing resort; Mount Fishy Lake. And yet, such beauty the clock had reason to shine upon, for not only did the villa include such lush greenery and such steep mountains, not only did a tiny yet tranquil town rest within the mountain's crevice, it also had quite possibly the clearest lake one could find within the state of Virginia herself. Though one might never guess that with the attitude Alex took on the moment she leapt from the tiny Uno family car, her breath appeared hoarse and whispery, her eyes were wide shut, and expression made it appear as though she had undertaken a great ordeal in such short time."Land! Oh, sweet land! Oh, how I'd forgotten your sweet scent, your lush grass, your wide, open range of elbow space! Oh, I am not worthy", Alex remarked, speaking as though she were breathing her dying breath."So, I guess an hour is like an eternity for you", replied the sarcastic sounding Nigel as he watched his mutant friend deliver a frightening death glare."Hey, you try having limited elbow space; I guarantee you'd be going ape within five minutes too", she replied in a rather annoyed tone."Yeah, but not everybody's as claustrophobic as you girl", the spunky Abigail retorted, her amused laugh enough to make the curly haired girl pout in mild anger.Though somehow, the sound of Kuki's grumbling stomach was enough to grab her attention once more, transforming it from pouty anger to curiosity within a milo-second."I'm hungry", Kuki replied in a mild whiny tone, clutching her growling stomach as she did."I know Kuki, but I doubt dad will stop for a quick picnic lunch", the British bald boy replied in a slightly apologetic tone."Ah, don't about it Boss; Numbuh 5'll treat em' ta' lunch", replied the spunky black girl, her words catching the surprised attention of her mutant friend."Oh, you really don't have to do that Abby-sama", she replied, attempting to make her panic sound calm and natural."But-", the little Asian girl pipped up before feeling a firm hand smack across her mouth, not that it ceased her from attempting to speak her muffled thoughts however."Oh relax girl, it's no big deal. Besides, need I remind you what happens when you two start whinin' fo' food", the motherly girl asked a somewhat stern yet spunky tone."Well, no but...Really! Oh, arigato Abby-sama", the mutant brunette happily decreed as she glomped her friend in a tight hug, surprising her friend even as she felt her head being stroked tenderly."Yeah, yeah, I know. Now come on you two, let's get goin' before the lunch crowd gets there", she explained as she heard the sounds of joyful hoorays emitting from her friends mouths.Though a quick yet devious looking glance back was enough to unsettled the nerves of her already intense looking boss."Good luck, Nigel", the spunky African American replied, her words enough to rattle a small sigh from the bald boy."Thanks Abby", Nigel replied, a shy yet obvious smile clear upon his face despite his awkward sounding tone.Truthfully, his answer proved vital enough for the spunky black girl as she went her way, a small smile present upon her face as she did so. Though one quick glance from behind the bald boy, and already could he feel his cynicism starting to slowly kick into his system, as evidenced by his angry looking eyes and firm mouth line. There stood his father, giving his uncle a helping hand. Yet despite the kindness emitting in Monty's eyes, Ben's expression gave off more of a grumpy vibe than he normally showcased even in his Father guise."Monty, do I have to go through with this", asked Ben, his tone almost whiny as noticed by his curious nephew."Now, now Ben, you were the one who insisted on this male bonding time", the jolly old man cheerfully replied as he remained oblivious to the regretful look upon his brother's face."Yeah, but I how was I suppose to know you had fishing in mind", he replied in a rather regretful manner."You're not a pro-fisher I take it", his young nephew asked in deep curiosity."Is he not a pro-fisher? Why I remember the time you failed to catch that giant catfish, oh pappie had a field day with you", he replied with a jolly old laugh, oblivious to his brother's irritated face as he'd been previously."Well, it appears you're the family black sheep in more ways than one", the British bald boy replied, a smirk to match his sarcastic tone his irritated uncle noticed."So, you're going with the deadpan snarker approach I see", he asked in a rather blunt tone."Was there any other option with you", his nephew asked in a rather nasty tone, one his father did not take lightly to."Nigel, you are not to use that type of language with your uncle", Monty said as his tone sudden became stern."But dad-""No buts Nigel! Your uncle is a guest, so it is only fair that we treat him like one, am I right", he asked his son, his expression returning to it's normally cheery smile as he watched the bald boy sigh in defeat."Good...Alright then, let's get a move on", Monty replied rather gleefully, yet once more, he was oblivious to the subtle yet noticeable glares the bald boy and dorky looking man gave one another, even as they joined the chubby old man on his walk.Bright, refurbished, refreshed even. That's exactly the kind of feeling Wally could feel emitting from himself as he jumped out of the small car, a small yawn to go along with the subtle eye rub he gave to his left eye. Yet surprise came over him as a quick glance to the left, even a quick glance to the right could only transform his surprised face into one of annoyance, even anger."Hey! Where the crud his everybody" Wally shouted allowed, even though no one could answer save for his own reverb.To some, there is a comforting feel associated with a glowing noon sun. Perhaps it's how it's radiant rays glisten upon the sparkling lake water, perhaps it's how they seem to create unanimous patterns of light and dark throughout the forest tops, or perhaps it was because it made the world around them feel as though all was at peace in the world. Though honestly, one could only hope to interpret that given Wally's expression.Written upon face, one could decipher anger, irritation even. Though in all fairness, that wasn't surprising given his recent situation; sitting alone upon a dock, staring at the tiny bob floating in the water as his mind began to run through the possible words he could say to his friends upon reuniting with them once more. Yet quick was he to forget the moment he saw that hook take a dip, almost instantly did his face light up with optimism, prompting him to reel in whatever he'd caught.For almost two minutes did he wrestle with whatever had caught his line, but such luck for him. For the instant he tugged that string with all his might did the thin line give way, setting his pray free as his face immediately sank into one of great irritation."Ah crud! Stupid fish wire", Wally angrily stated, irritation clear in his mumbled words as he searched for yet another wire."Here you go", replied a familiar, innocent tone as they held out a wire to the unsuspecting Aussie."Oh, thanks Kuki", the short Aussie replied rather casually, only to find himself doing a double take upon hearing his own words. And sure enough, his initial reaction proved correct. "Kuki!""Hi Wally", Kuki cheerfully replied as she waved to her surprised looking friend."What are you doing here", he asked her."Well, fishing just sounds like it's lots of fun-""No, I mean what are doing here", the short blonde asked her, feeling his irritation rise with every passing second."Oh, well I got worried when you didn't show up for lunch. So I thought "Where's Wally?", and here you are", she replied in a ditzy, yet genuine tone despite him staring at her in disbelief."Was one of those places the car", Wally asked as he began to thread his fishing rod."Oh, I never thought to check there", the little Asian girl replied in revelation, oblivious to the eye rolling she was receiving from her short friend. "Wait, you were in the care this whole time?""Yeah, and with my luck, I probably would've "sufimated" to death before wakin' up to open the door", he replied in a tone of mild anger, continuing to thread his rod even as the little girl's face ballooned with genuine guilt."Oh, I'm sorry Wally", Kuki replied in a rather apologetic manner, her tone rather high and squeaky, as if she were on the verge of tears."Yeah, well you should be; it's your fault for borin' me ta' death with those stupid Rainbow Monkey stories", the short Aussie replied , completing his threading despite the angered look his Asian friend was sending his way."My stories are not stupid", she retorted in a rather defensive manner."Oh please, I'd rather watch The Room than listen to you go on about "who's cuter? Mrs. Mary Poppins Rainbow Monkey? Or I Spy Rainbow Monkey?" ", he replied, his mocking tone enough to curl her sweet face into one of anger."Well, I guess some people just can't appreciate good storytelling", the little Asian girl replied in a much sassier tone, only to hear the sounds of the small Aussie mimicking her before throwing his hook into the vast lake once more.It took her awhile, but sure enough was she to follow suit in throwing her own hook into the vast lake. Inevitably, the only thing that could follow such a conversation was silence, a silence which only had merely seconds to last before the little Asian girl opened her mouth to speak once more."So...do you want to talk", asked the calm yet confident sounding Kuki."What's there to talk about? Besides, isn't that more of a "girl thing", Wally asked as he spoke his last words in a mocking tone."Well, there's nothing that says I'm not allowed to ask out of concern-""Concern", he asked, his tone suspicious despite the lovely smile that remained plastered upon her sweet face."Yeah, because you look grumpier than usual", she said. Yet such innocent words could only send shivers down his spine as he cringed in fear at such words."What makes you think that", the short blonde asked, his tone nervous, why he even laughed a little."Well, you're not exactly subtle with how you feel", she explained, reverting to a rather sassy tone once more.And sure enough, that reassuring look in her violet eyes was all it took before a final sigh escaped his mouth before it reverted to a burrowing frown. Truthfully, there was no possible way of walking away from this now."I just...I just feel bad about what happened", explained the disgruntled looking Aussie, his tone calm despite the regret seeping through it."Oh, it's okay Wally", Kuki explained. "I mean, even I've forgotten important dates.""No, not that", he replied as his tone switched to one of mild annoyance before reverting to it's calmer tone.I mean...I can't believe I acted like such a chicken. I should have just told myself they couldn't scare me, but I didn't.""You shouldn't feel ashamed of that, it's only natural to feel fear when we don't know what will happened", she tried to explain, completely oblivious to the irritation upon his face growing tighter with every second."But we we're given a mission and I FAILED; I let my feelings get the better of me and look where it got us", the short blonde explained to the surprised Asian girl, her violet only able to communicate a shadow of regret as she turned away from his angered expression. "Who am I kiddin' though, you wouldn't understand.""I understand", she quietly replied, her words enough to send shock pulsing through the boy's system as he turned to face her once more."What", he asked, his tone clear with confusion despite its squeakiness. "Oh come on Kuki, I kept freakin' out and you kept your pretty little smile on like nothin' happened.""Yeah, but sometime's that's all I can do...", the little girl quietly replied, her quiet tone, even her violet eyes proved enough to leave her short friend at a loss for words."I mean, even I get scared sometimes...In fact, I was actually pretty scared we weren't going to be successful on that mission...But then I always remember "if I just put a smile on, then I'm sure everything will work out alright!. Maybe it doesn't work all the time, but at least I'll know I did all I could do to keep my spirits up..."Her words; they rang of such calm, yet such sorrowful vocal tone. Her words; they appeared to be the type to rip apart even the grumpiest of hearts in two. Or perhaps, maybe such a reaction seemed native only to Wally as his gaze remained ever focused on her. His mouth pouting, his body remained ever still, even his emerald eyes seemed clouded by sadness as he opened his mouth to speak."Kuki...I had no idea", Wally explained, his tone regretful, even as he put his rough hand upon her sleeve covered one. Though surprised by such a gesture, all she could do was give him a small smile before speaking once more."Well...it's not like I told anyone", Kuki explained in a mildly hearty tone."No but...well...I'm glad you did...", he managed to get out, a small smile on his face visible to the smiling Asian girl."So...you're glad we had this talk...", she asked him rather calmly."Yeah...I am", he responded in a rather calm manner as his smile remained ever present upon his face.For a moment, all seemed quiet amongst the two young friends. They felt relaxed, comfortable even in their moment of blissful eternity. Or perhaps, they would have if Kuki had not opened her mouth to speak once more."Wally...can I ask you something", she asked in a calm yet curious manner."Sure...What is it", he asked, his tone a bit more suspicious than curious at this point."Well, I've been thinking, and I wanted to know...do you think that kiss between us counts", she finally asked, her tone bright with cheeriness and optimism.Yet little did she know that such a question was enough to send shivers down her blonde's friends spine, why he even blushed a little as he appeared at loss for an answer."What", he asked, or rather screeched given his sudden reaction."I'm asking you; do you think that kiss we had counts", she asked in a more cheery mood than previously."Count as what", he asked in a rather angry tone."Oh come on Wally, the masquerade is over; the hand gestures, the rescuing, the sudden bursts of confessions. You can't tell me that you don't have something you want to say to me", the little Asian girl remarked in a rather sassy manner, despite the look of disbelief her friend was giving her."So? You've done the same for me", the short Aussie replied in a tone of disbelief."Yeah, but not on a regular basis", she replied in a flirtatious manner, watching as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and his mind desperate to search for his next response."Okay, fine. So what though, it's not like I'd kiss you anywhere else", Wally replied, his tone a desperate attempt to prove his assurance even as he crossed his arms."But you agreed to kiss me", Kuki flirtatiously reminded him."That's only cause you made me", he angrily reminded her."That's not what your eyes said", she replied, her tone, even her violet invoked flirtation.Her words; they were enough to stain his cheeks with rosy red colouring, even send surprise shivering through his spine. Her words; they were enough to stain his expression with surprise, even paint his emerald eyes with surprise as he desperately searched for his next response. Though it took several seconds, his brain began to finally compute once more as he opened his mouth to speak once more."Screw this, I'm gettin' a drink", Wally shouted rather angrily, taking his leave from the dock before he stopped to turn and face her once more. "Do you want anythin'!""Well, I could go for a Dr. Pepper", she calmly replied."One Dr. Pepper", the short Aussie angrily remarked as he took his leave once more. Yet despite the obvious touch of angered embarrassment clear upon grumpy looking face, he remained oblivious to the little Asian girl's chuckle as she watched him take his leave towards the concession stand."Two-Seventy-Three's right, he really is a tsundere", Kuki sassily remarked as she threw her hook into the lake, humming a little tune to herself as if not a care in the word existed at this moment in time.End chap. 8 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Indeed, the two thirty sun shawn upon the underwater Arctic Base, grazing it with its luscious beams despite the lack of light from below the icy surface. Truthfully, one almost say it appeared tranquil in its lack of surface concerns. Yet a quick glance inside, and one knew such thinking proved far from the truth. Inside the many walls of the base stood a group of young cadets, their faces screamed of nervous impatience. Though in essence, it was not hard to see why as Patton took his pace of silence directly towards this small group. His eyes remained ever intent with stern integrity, and his drill stick remain ever present behind his back, though it only took so long before he finally opened his mouth to speak."So Cadets Next Door...you all probably think you've done pretty well on your 45th training simulation...",said Patton, his tone loud yet stern as he never once ceased his pacing. "Probably think you'll go home, patting yourself on the back while topping it off with a nice slice of apple pie.""Yes" replied the small voice of a young cadet, one that could only usher in a stern yet angered look from his instructor."Oh, you find that funny, huh maggot? Well then, maybe you'll all be happy to know that your simulation proved to be a dud. As of 10:30 tomorrow morning, you'll be taking a redo of the simulation...All of you", the young Drill Sergeant sternly explained, a hint of cockiness in his voice as he did so."What", cried the cadets in perfect unison."But we did our best Sir", said a concerned sounding blonde cadet, even though his words did nothing to shake his stern looking superior."Best doesn't always equal successful cadet; if you want any further proof of that, look at Cadet Darwin's major screw-up today", he explained rather sternly."But how was I suppose to know that eating virtual doughnuts wasn't part of the simulation", asked the freckle ridden boy, mild regret clear in his tone as he did so."That's still no excuse cadet", the raven haired boy screamed, sending shivers down the boy's spine as he did so."Sir, I know we're suppose to be trying our best here, but I think that you're forgetting that it's just a test run. Besides, we can always try better next time", replied a young girl strangely reminiscent of Isabella from Phineas and Ferb.Though quick was she to startle the moment she saw the drill stick reach inches away from her nose, a quick glance up could only reveal then a stern, almost angry looking Patton standing in front of her."Sloppy...senile...corrupt...You keep thinking like and you go very far cadet. I've warned you all before that being a Kids Next Door operative is serious business, so either you're in, or you get left behind", the young boy explained, his eyes the perfect level of stern integrity to match his voice."Yeah, but isn't having fun part of the job", asked a auburn haired cadet, his words clearly making an angry impression upon the raven haired boy as he went to speak." Not when kids lives are at stake", replied the angered looking Patton, now standing tall before the tiny cadet who dare question his authority."But that doesn't mean we need to pretend like we can't have some fun every once in awhile", the cadet replied back, his own stern outlook was proved not a sight Patton wished to see currently."That doesn't matter, sometimes you need to take thing seriously if you want to ensure that safety of other children. It's an unfortunate priority", the raven haired boy explained, feeling his anger rise with every word he spoke."Well I guess you're all about that priority", the cadet spoke rather sternly as he watched his superior's black eyes widen in shock for a mere second.Such words would only prove to fuel his budding anger, such words could only prove to clench his hands into fists, even tense his face into one of rage and irritation. Yet sooner than never did he find himself being pulled back into the sanctity of reality as the clock chimed 2:35, allowing for him to inhale a deep breath before commencing to stare at his cadets in stern integrity once more."Fine; cadets, you are to report back in here in 10 hundred hours tomorrow morning. Until then, you're dismissed", he said with stern integrity as he watched his cadets take their leave.Yet from behind the closed door appeared Jeffery, a paranoid look on his face as he clumsily made his way through the sea if cadets. Yet quickly did his face become one of concern the instant his friend came into view; he looked shameful, as if he were regretful of his own actions."Well, that certainly went well", said the calm sounding Patton as he and Jeffery walked towards his office nearly five minutes later."Yeah, those cadets certainly came out even less witless, and all in under two hours", Jeffery replied, his tone rather sarcastic if not displeased."Enough with the sarcasm; if we're going to build a strong future, we have to roughen them up a bit", the raven haired calmly yet sternly explained."Yeah, but you seem to be forgetting something; there's being harsh and...well...just being demanding", the blue eyed boy explained rather hesitantly."And judging by today's simulation, I'd say that I've handled that balance well", he replied, much to the disbelief of his friend."You threatened a cadet with 100 laps around he base and back if he didn't complete the simulation on time", the auburn haired cried out in disbelief."Oh come on Jeff, he had it coming", the raven haired boy replied in disbelief as he opened the door to his office."So increasing the lap rate is mentally suitable now", the blue eyed boy asked, his curiosity ever present as he reached for the container of hot chocolate sitting atop his friend's desk."Standard procedure; I have no choice but to go tougher on those kids", the young boy explained as he sat himself atop one of the comfy beanbag chairs. "They go soft, I get tougher, it's only natural.""Fine, I'm just saying it's not your natural style", he explained to his friend as he poured himself a cup of the delicious hot chocolate."Yeah...", the raven haired boy replied in a whispery tone.Though no sooner had he spoken those words did his eyes glaze over, a shadow of regret ever so present in those blacks orbs despite keeping such poised contact upon his gloved hands. Yet such regret did not go unnoticed by the blue eyed boy, feeling his own feelings of concern overtake him even as he opened his mouth to speak."So, how did things go on your break", Jeffery asked rather casually, immediately catching the attention of his spiky haired friend."Ah, it went okay...I ran into Rachel", Patton began, his tone a desperate attempt to sound calm yet casual."Oh, that sounds like it went okay", the blue eyed boy casually remarked."Oh yeah, it went great. That is until I shot you mouth off and pissed her off", the young boy replied as he attempted to constrain his own anger, catching his friends attention in the process."Again? Oh no, you didn't tell her about-""No", his raven haired friend angrily retorted, making him jump ever so slightly."Okay, just asking...So, what did happen", he calmly asked as he watched his friends forehead collide with histhreaded hands, even hearing a small sigh escape his throat."The whole "Zero" incident came up...She wanted to me to talk about it and I just didn't want to...I just...I didn't handle it as well as I should have, you know", the raven haired boy explained, his whispery tone enough to explain his current state of mind."But she was questioning you out of concern", asked the curious Jeffery."Is it that obvious", his friend replied in a blunt tone."So then why would that bother you", he asked as a moment of silence overtook the room, one which could only last for so long before being interrupted by a deep yet regretful sigh."I can't do it Jeff...I just can't...Every time I see her sweet smile now, it feels like someone's tabbing a hole in my heart", Patton explained, his tone clearly whispery if not painful sounding."Because of what happened with Grandfather...", the blue eyed boy asked, yet received no definite answer; all he received was a silent hanging head."I wish you could learn to let it go", his friend replied with concern, even as young Drill Sergeant turned to face him."Oh, so you're saying that I should just forget that I damned myself, my cadets and my leader", he asked, his tone angry, almost offensive in tone."I never said that, all I meant is that you need to accept it and move on", he explained in an exasperated tone."Oh come on, you know it's not that simple", the young boy replied in disbelief."Oh fine, fight it all you want. But just know that at some point, you're going to have to accept it. At some point, you're going to have to tell her", the blue eyed boy sternly remarked.Yet, the only only reply he could receive from his friend turned out to be a deep sigh before he began to stare at his gloves once more."It's not that simple Jeff...She'd understand the feeling of losing honour...but I don't think she'd be prepared for what I'd have to say...", Patton began in a whispery tone, feeling nervous at the thought of his beloved friend's smile never to graze him again."Well, why don't you just confront her", Jeffery asked, surprising his mopey looking friend as he looked up to stare and gaze at his smiling face."Oh Jeff, I don't know; it sounds too risky", the young boy explained, his nervous tone evident as he brushed off such a thought with ease."Oh, come on; you won't know until you try", the blue eyed boy confidently remarked."That's just the problem", the raven haired boy explained rather bluntly."Ah, nonsense. Now, get a move on, you haven't been proactive all day", the auburn haired boy happily remarked as he pulled his raven haired friend off his seat and onto his feet before forcibly walking him towards the door."I'm allowed to not be proactive once in awhile", he remarked in a rather annoyed tone as desperately tried to fight off his friend's hold, but to no such avail."Not on my watch, you're not", he happily remarked as he continued to push his friend towards the door."But what about those documents I need to sign", he asked."Don't worry about it; I'll take care of them", the blue eyed boy happily remarked, much to the surprise and disbelief of his raven haired friend."Do you remember the last time you tried to forge someone's signature", the young boy asked in curiosity, watching his friend's smile fade as it was replaced by a blank stare."Oh yeah...Well, I'm sure Numbuh 362 won't notice", he confidently remarked, that is before having shivers run down his spine the moment witnessed the death glare Patton was currently giving him."Right...Well, good luck", Jeffery cheerfully remarked as he shoved his friend out of his office and into the corridor."But-"Was all the time he was given to speak before watching the door slam in his face, allowing for his expression to turn blunt before releasing a deep sigh. Yet such a scowl could only last so long before he found his friends words reverberating in his head. They seemed so confident, so uplifting, it was even enough to make him smile."Ah, what the hell", the raven haired boy remarked rather casually, a smile on his face and gloved hands buried in his pockets as he made his way towards the docking bay once more.End chap.9 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Upon her hazel eyes opening, the only object which stood in her sight line was a lone white door. With zero hesitation, she made it her priority to open that door, only to discover another soon after as she did so. Yet the word quit had no ill effect on her, regardless of how many doors she may open. And yet only a minor convenience gave her a sense of panic; the sound of chattered cackling, a cackling she could only ponder about until the final door in her path reveal a choir of familiar villains, their laughter a horrid yet harmonious sound.And who else to lead the charge but Cree, a smug smile lay ever present upon her beautiful face, a smug smile which she remained confused by. Or at least, she remained ignorant until the dreadlocks teen lifted up a mirror to reveal to her confused looking sister, revealing nearly a spitting image of herself in the mirror. And yet despite such notions, her hazel could only showcase fear as opposed to joy; her hands quivered, her face lost its colour, even her lips began to tremble before she unleashed a blood curdling scream atop the harmonious laughter."Doushtano Abby-sama", asked the quiet voice that awoke Abigail from her disturbed slumber, the concerned expression upon Alex's face enough to sooth her before she opened her mouth to speak."Oh, sorry about that girl, Numbuh 5 was just off in dreamland", replied the exhausted Abigail, rubbing her hazel before commencing to put her hands behind her head soon after."Still sounded pretty intense though...Oh, was it the one where you go to school in August, and you haven't done your homework and the whole class is laughing at you. And then you stop to realize; I don't EVER go to school in August, and we're not even living in Japan", Alex asked, her concerned tone becoming rather animated in such a short amount of time."Ah, somethin' like that", the braided girl casually replied, yet a quick glance at her aura colour revealed to the mutant brunette the true intent of such words."Oh, I see...sorry about that", she said in a genuinely apologetic tone."Ah don't worry about it girl", she replied casually as her eyes remained ever fixated upon the cloudy sky. " This day just won't go by fast, will it?"Guess not...I got to say though, it feels kind of relaxing actually", the curly brunette replied in mild enthusiasm."Relaxin'", her black friend asked in surprise."Yeah, it kind of reminds me of my days back home in Canada", she explained, her friend observant in her mannerisms in this current state."I mean sure, I like goin' on missions as much as the next guy, but...Sometimes a small dollop of nature's beauty is all it takes to remind you the wonders life has to offer...It feels peaceful...tranquil...as if the world has stopped spinning fore a mere moment", the mutant brunette calmly narrated, her words enough to release a small chuckle from her spunky looking friend."I swear girl, one of these days you goin' te' end up a poet", the spunky black girl replied, a chuckle ever so present as she spoke, even catching the attention of her embarrassed looking friend."Oh, I don't know about that; a poet doesn't really suit me...Oh, but a writer does though, especially an abnormally geeky writer", the young brunette excitedly cited with glee.Yet blissfully unaware was she of the almost deadpan look upon her wise friend's face, the uncertainty, even the disbelief reflected in her hazel eyes as they remained transfixed on the cloud ridden sky once more."Say Alex...you think people change that quickly", asked the curious sounding Abigail as she caught her surprised looking friend off guard."Oh...well...I don't know; it's not something that crosses my mind very often", there nervous sounding Alex explained."Yeah, but let's say ye' had te'; how much do ye' think a person would change", she asked as she sat herself upon the grassy hill, hugging her legs in the process as she did."Well, I can't say I deny it; there are those who grow, and those who don't, the end result is only the mere pre-determination ones actions take", the mutant brunette said in a rather observant tone, blissfully unaware of the dark anger growing upon Abigail's soft face."So it's just some means to an end, isn't it", she asked rather darkly, catching the attention of her friend before she heaved a deep sigh in realization."You just want this day to be over as much as anyone else, don't you", she asked in a low yet concerned tone before enduring a beat of silence."Who wouldn't", the black skinned girl asked rather darkly, her response enough to endure concerned looking puppy dog eyes from her mutant friend before she heaved a heavy sigh once more."I wish you wouldn't let this get to you...you did a heroic thing back there...", the mutant girl sincerely replied, prompting anger to swirl inside the spunky girl before she turned to face her friend in anger."What are ye' tryin' ta' say girl", she asked rather angrily, prompting suspicion to form upon her friend's freckled face."Nothing...all I'm saying is that you did a heroic thing by-""Yeah, well don't even bother", the braided beauty angrily dismissed, unaware of the angered look forming upon her friend's face as she did so."Look, maybe you don't want to acknowledge it, but I do! Do you know how many people would willingly save their friend first if it meant-""Yeah, and look where that got ya'll; you lost it and almost destroyed the Convention Center before goin' ta' hunt down Grandfather, Nigel practically started doubtin' himself, Hoagie didn't know what ta' make of it, and Wally and Kuki-""But you can't just hold a gun to your head as if to say "I give up", the important thing is to accept it and move on-""Oh right, and I'm sure it's easy fo' you ta' just forget all the crud you meant through", Abigail asked as she turned to face her friend, her angry hazel eyes and expression enough to leave the mutant girl in stunned silence as she proved unable to answer, even as a heavy sigh escaped her throat."I'm sorry Alex...It's just hard fo' me...I mean, if I had my way...I would've punched that old geezer...And I couldn't even bring myself ta' do that...I mean...Is that what it feels like to feel superior...", the black beauty asked in a calm yet uncertain tone, the very thought of her cackling sister enough to further tense her rough hands.Yet, the feel of a soft, almost delicate hand proved enough to surprise the braided beauty as she turned to face her curly haired friend; her eyes misty, even watery as she spoke."Don't say that...Please don't say that...", she began as her voice began to heighten, thoroughly absorbing her surprised looking friend's attention."The Abby-sama I know is kind...the Abby-sama I know is loyal...the Abby-sama I know always puts her friends first and never hesitates to do the right thing, even if we're the ones who end up hurt in the end...See?... You don't need to hate yourself...You don't need to be afraid of change..."If anything...I'm the one who should hate myself for...", was all she could say before turning away from her surprised yet seemingly concerned looking friend."Oh, come on girl; there's nothin' you need ta' feel ashamed of", the black beauty tried to explain as the mutant girl turned her attention towards her once more."But I have a legacy I can never live down; it's bad enough that he almost stole everything I've ever worked so hard for...but to know that that man and I are so similar...", was all the mutant girl could muster as she stared at her shivering hands."It just...It just...", was all she could muster before she found her quivering hand smother her face, her body shaking violently as her muffled wailing began.Truthfully; a sight which carved concern upon the Abigail's face and make her bottom lip quiver. Truthfully; such a sight itself was all it took to bring her to her knees before she caressed her wailing friend into a tight hug."Oh, it's gonna be okay girl...It's gonna be okay", the motherly girl said in a tone of attempted calmness, concern ever so laced upon her face as she slowly stroked the back of her wailing friend.Yet only could her hazel widen as a breath of revelation overcame her; a revelation of character, a revelation of growth and understanding, a revelation that could only paint her once uncertain face with subtle happiness."I'm sorry Abby-sama; I just needed to get that off my chest", the young brunette spoke as she wiped her own tears on her sleeve, unaware of the now blissfully happy looking Abigail."Ah, it's okay...Besides...Numbuh 5 thinks she just needed a breather too...", the motherly black girl replied, her casual tone enough to calm the nerves of her mutant friend as she felt the girl's aura returning to normal.Indeed, such sweet revelation could only be followed by a calming silence, one that unfortunately seemed too good to last as the motherly black girl opened her mouth to speak."Let's face it though, if I should be feelin' sorry fo' anybody, it'd probably be Numbuh 1", Abigail casually spoke, prompting her mutant friend to witness their bald leader struggling to reel in a stubborn fish."Oh yeah, I can only imagine what the hell he's going through right now...I only hope he took my advice", Alex replied, her concern tone quick to morph into bluntness."We can only hope", the braided beauty replied in a very similar tone herself."Yeah...Still, it's just too bad we can't turn this into a day for good memories", the curly haired girl said rather casually, unaware that such words had sparked a sparkle in Abigail's hazel eyes."Wait, say that again", she asked, her enthusiasm surprising her friend in the long run."Okay...I said "it's too bad that we can't turn this into a day for good memories"...why", she asked rather suspiciously, even as her friend stared at her with such a perpetual looking smile."Alex...yo' genius is showing", the spunky black girl teasingly replied."Really?...Wait how", the mutant girl asked in suspicion once more."Well it's like ya' said; if he can't think of any good memories, than we'll just bring the good memories ta' him", she replied, her spunk and enthusiasm enough to finally send a signal off to her suspicious looking friend."Oh, I get it; we'll throw him a surprise party", she happily remarked. "Wait, won't that cause confusion if his birthday's not for another few months?""Ah, we'll cross that bridge when we get there", the Abigail casually stated. "Now, how are we gonna sneak away if we need ta' get back ta' the tree house.""Makasete", Alex whispered with a wink to her friend, all the while uttering the Japanese phrase for" leave it to me" as she stood on her feet after so long."Yo, Nigel-kun", she cheerfully shouted, catching the bald leader's undivided attention almost immediately."Two-Seventy-Three, I'm kind of in the middle of something here if you don't mind", Nigel shouted, his frustration ever so clear through his thick British accent."Well fine by me, but I think Abby-sama's feeling a little under the weather...In fact to think of it, I think Kuki-chan's feeling the same way as well", she began, talking a mile a minute as her tone changed from arrogant to observant, giving her spunky friend enough time to catch on before she placed her hand to her head."Oh yeah...Numbuh 5 ain't feelin' so good", she chimed in, allowing for her leader to raise an eyebrow in suspicion."Really? How long has this been going on", he asked, suspicion clear in his tone as he did."Oh, uh...maybe a few hours or so, you know I can't ever keep track of time when those dizzy spells take over", she casually replied, throwing in a fake cough as she observed his suspicion looking expression."Are you really that sick", the bald boy asked, his suspicion ever still lingering in his tone."Yes", the duo replied in harmonious unison, their uncertainty ever so ringing in their tones as they patiently awaited his suspicious face to soften. Sure enough, a small sigh was all it took before he opened his mouth once more."Alright then. Take care guys", the bald leader replied, his frustrated tone ever present in his tone as he sat back down in the rickety boat once more."Yes! Thanks Nigel-kun! See ya later", the mutant girl happily remarked as the duo took their leave, taking caution until they found their leader's ever watchful eye out of reach."That was close", Abigail remarked ever bluntly."Yeah, no kidding...Well anyway, we got to figure out how to organize this thing; I mean, you and I can be in charge of food, but I don't know what else we can do to keep everyone busy other than decorations", Alex observantly remarked as she talked a mile a minute, her cheery attitude enough to surprise her usually calm friend."Well, you certainly perked up in no time", she casually remarked."Well of course; after all, organizing a party is half the fun of having a party. Now come on, let's go get Wallabe-kun and Kuki-chan", she cheerfully remarked, surprising the spunky black girl ever more as she took off with her hand in hand.At first, surprise could only overtake the usually silent Abigail, yet that unexpected dash, the cheerful nature, even the attitude towards such a passion, it couldn't help but make her laugh ever so.End chap. 10 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Kids Next Door is destroyed...The Moon Base belongs to you Grandfather... Those words; they were enough to surprise her, frighten her even as she saw them escape her wrinkly lips. Her chest continually tensed, her breath sounded hoarse as panic consumed her. Desperately, she reached out towards the image of the horrid blonde hag, screaming how this wasn't her. Yet her only response proved a malicious cackle from the putrid hag, resulting in a horrid scream before she found herself in a quiet, almost docile room.Beads of sweat appeared present upon Rachel's horrified expression, her breath proved fast yet slow and cumbersome as her heartbeat began to return to normal capacity. Still though, she managed to find confusion if not comfort in the figures who stood before her; Herbie and Fanny. Their faces appeared ripe with concern even as she continued to stare at them in momentary silence. That is until Herbie opened his mouth to speak."Are you okay Sir", Herbie asked his superior even as she remained in her dazed state of confusion."What...", asked the dazed sounding Rachel, that is before she regained her sense of surrounding and composure. "Oh, don't worry about me Herbie, I'm quite alright.""Really; ye' sure about that Sir", Fanny asked, the suspicious look in her emerald eyes enough to convey to Rachel her current thought process."Trust me Numbuh 86; my word is often my bond", the young Supreme leader sternly explained to her still suspicious looking subordinate. "Besides, even I've had my fair share of bizarre dreams. In fact, today I recall dreaming that I was being pecked on the cheek by someone.""Yeah right; sorry Sir, but the chances of that happening would only be 5.7%", the snooty boy began, unaware of the unsettling glare that formed upon his leader's delicate face.Yet unbeknownst to him, the only sound the Irish girl could hear emitting from his mouth was a resounding "blah, blah, blah", as was ever so potent upon irritated looking face. To put it simply; one minute, Herbie found himself pontificating the scientific facts of science rather snootily as per usual. The next, he found himself being literally booted out of his superior's office, yelping before landing face first into the floor. The Irish felt a sense of accomplishment as she dusted her hands together, a prideful smirk ever present upon her freckled face. Yet one glance at the young blonde's stern glare was enough to wipe the smug smile off her face as it found itself reforming into a nervous stare."Was that really necessary", the young girl asked her Irish friend, stern integrity ever so prominent in her tone as she did so."Are you kiddin'? I've been waitin' te' do that since cadet graduation", the Irish redhead explained, not that it did much to win her brownie points from the stern looking brown."Funny, I thought you were the kind who kept to yourself", she replied, her stern tone ever present even as she she began to glance over her paperwork once more."Well, yer' as snippy as ever I see", the Irish girl observed, her deadpan snarker sounding tone enough to catch the angered attention of her blonde friend once more."Look; unfortunately, I don't have time to argue which of us is the bigger hypocrite. So I suggest that you kindly return to your post, that way I can continue to overlook these documents", the young blonde replied rather angrily, all the while keeping her stern composure before doing just as she had said she would.At first, it seemed enough to paint a disbelieving scowl upon the Irish redhead's face. Yet a second glance revealing a trash can containing four, maybe five cans of opened pop allowed her disposition to waver momentarily, reverting to her stubborn grimace before speaking once more."Yeah, well...maybe I want te' talk about it now, did that ever cross your mind", the stubborn Irish girl asked as her friends eyes widened in surprise, she even giggled a little at such a response."I'm appreciate your sentiment Fanny. But to be honest, I don't think I'm ready to talk about it just yet", she explained,her tone calm yet soothing even as her friends emerald eyes remained ever intact upon the young blonde."Well ye' might as well; you've been moppin' about it all day", she bluntly remarked."Yeah, but so has everyone else", the young blonde replied ever so calmly as she turned to face the window containing the blue orb they called Earth."I can't blame them though...I'm as desperate as any of them to forget that eventful day...To forget that evil smile and that evil laugh...that feeling of the unexpected while raising against the clock...to look in the mirror and see someone who has your face and your voice...", Rachel explained even as her voice became shakier with every breath, causing concern to form upon the freckled Irish girl's face."But she's not you Sir...", Fanny began, her tone whispery in its concern."But she is...", the young blonde replied, her soft voice remained ever so shaky, even as her eyes never left the empty view of space."But ye' were followin' the ideals of a man ye' know ye'd NEVER agree with", the redheaded girl tried to explained, her desperation ever so clear in now stern sounding voice."That doesn't change the fact that those words came out of my mouth...or entered my own thoughts...",the young girl replied, the shakiness in her tone ever more prevalent with every breath she took, further aggravating the stern yet concerned look in her friend's emerald eyes as she went to speak."Rachel, just forget about it already", Fanny proclaimed, her voice ever prominent in its stern yet concerned integrity."I have no choice; I have to hold onto it", Rachel explained, her shaky tone still prevalent despite the stern tone she took upon her now aggravated looking friend."No, ye' don't! Look, I understand ye' want ta' make sure ye' don't make the same mistake twice, but maybe this time ye' should just accept it and move on", the Irish girl replied, her tone stern despite the obvious aggravated look forming upon her face.Yet blissfully unaware was she of the small smile forming upon the young blonde's face, she even snickered ever so slightly."That's just the problem though Fanny...you could never truly understand...", said the almost apathetic Rachel as she stood up from her seat, her feet carrying her ever so slowly towards that magnificent view of the earth.Such words though; they were enough to surprise the young Irish girl as her face depicted. Yet such a state could only last so long before she felt her freckled face twitching into anger, her eyebrows sharpened even as her emerald eyes became glazed by such emotion."Not understand?...Hello! I was there, we were all there with ye'! If yer' goin' te' start jumpin' on the "woe is me" bandwagon-""No, nothing like that...I mean that you could never know what it's like to be me...""To feel lonely...To feel as though everything rests upon your shoulders...That even one insignificant mistake could easily decimate the lives of many...including your own...", the young girl explained, her low yet calm tone a perfect match for her watery looking chocolate eyes that continually stared at such a beautiful blue orb.Not long after did she feel a soft hand gently grasp her shoulder, surprise overtaking her as she turned to discover the hands owner; it was Fanny, her bottom lip seemed to quiver, even her emerald eyes appeared watery as she spoke."Can I at least try", she asked, her tone high-pitched, almost as if she couldn't hold back the inevitable any longer.Yet such words; they proved enough to make Rachel's chocolate eyes widen in realization, enough that her tears came pouring down as she caressed her friend in a tight hug, feeling soon enough the warm embrace of friend's arms around her own slender torso."I'm so sorry Fanny...I'm so sorry", said the teary eyed Rachel."What are you sorry for", asked Fanny, tears pouring down her own freckled face as well."Because I shouldn't have pried when you didn't wish to, especially if I wasn't willing to discuss my own feelings", the young girl explained through weepy tone and constant tears."Oh don't blame yerself' for that; if anythin', I shouldn't have been so "stand-offish" about the whole thing", the Irish girl explained through weepy tears, feeling their embrace end as she came to face the sad looking smile that belonged to her dear friend."So...do you feel like discussing it now", she asked while wiping her own tears away, a small yet adorable little nod from Fanny enough to convince her likewise."But only if yer' ready ta' talk about it lass", she explained soon after."Yeah...I guess I am...", the young blonde softly proclaimed with a small smile upon her face. "Besides, it'll probably make that Ice-cream I recently acquired taste all the better.""Oh great, mixed ice-cream again", Fanny said rather disappointingly, reverting almost instantly back to her bitchy persona as she made her way to the tiny freezer in the corner, her friend not too far behind."Not necessarily", Rachel happily proclaimed as she watched her friend's face light up with such curiosity."Ye' mean...", was all she could muster as a nod from her friend gave her the answer she seaked; cookies and cream."Yes", the Irish girl said with delight, her tone enough to make Rachel chuckle as they proceeded towards their destination.Yet unbeknownst to the duo that a lone figure stand outside Rachel's office; it was Patton. True, he had only been standing for such a short period of time. Yet his black eyes, even his expression revealed budding anger, even regret as he made his way down the corridor, though not before allowing his gloved hands to transform into raging fists.End chap.11 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The 3:40 proved itself a marvel; its light was dim, yet it shawn diligently, as if to say it refused its early bedtime call. Unfortunately for Nigel, this observation proved far from interesting for him. Though in all fairness, when one has sat in the same position for nearly, boredom appeared to be the only logical progression as his exhausted face depicted. Slowly but surely, a quick glance towards his uncle revealed an irritated expression, a stark contrast to his father, whom seemed happy as a calm as he reeled in yet another batch of fish."Well, look at that; that's the fifth school of fish I've caught today", said the delighted Monty as he threw the fish into the pile, much to the irritated glare his brother was sending his way currently."Sure, rub it in why don't you", Ben callously replied, the snarky remark enough to tighten the brows upon Nigel's face."Oh com on Ben, you can't give up so easily, that's what pappie always used to say", the old cheerfully replied as his son gave him a curious glance, much to the dismay of his irritated looking brother."Why do you think I stopped trying", the grouchy louse asked, his tone verging on anger as he bit down on his pipe."But pappie was always so supportive of you", Monty kindly reminded him, unaware of his son's surprised expression almost as much as he was to his brother's brows flurrying with rage."He dunked m in fish sauce Monty, fish sauce", he angrily reminded him, not that it did much to wipe the smile off his elder brothers face."Oh that's just like you Ben; always remember things so negatively", the plump old man happily remarked as he returned his line to the sea."Yeah, yeah, sure", Ben replied rather rudely, his face filled with irritation as he returned his gaze to the lake beyond him.Unbeknownst to either of them was the look upon Nigel's face; it was so gentle, so surprised by such recollection that couldn't help but release a small fit of laughter, the first for him in an entire days span. Unfortunate for him however, that the suspicious black eyes of his uncle had caught such a reaction."What are you laughing at baldie", Ben asked, his threatening tone enough to snap the bald boy back into reality as he came to face the threatening glare upon his uncle's face, much to his cringe worthy dismay."What? Oh, nothing", the bald boy nervously replied, not that his uncle was buying it."Don't act coi, I saw the little look on your face", he replied."Well so what? You always find my misery amusing", he explained to the man who bore the unfortunate title of his uncle."That's different", grouchy louse explained to his now suspicious looking nephew. "Besides...I haven't exactly been in that mood much lately.""Really. I find that hard to believe", Nigel stern said with a scawf, catching the attention of his uncle once more. " Of anything, you probably enjoy seeing me and my friends this way."Yet even as he spoke, the stern British boy remained ever present in his own thoughts, enough that he seemed unaware of just how much his uncle's brows were furrowing, as if he were attempting to hold back excessive anger."Look kid, you don't exactly know everything about me...Besides, if I REALLY wanted to do something today, I would have brought along my Delightful Children for the ride", the middle aged looking man attempted to explain, much to the disbelief of his stern looking nephew."You really expect me to buy that", he asked, his stern tone in complete disbelief as he spoke."It's the truth kid", Ben explained."Oh come on, just admit it; this is a trip to the beach for you. If anything, you're probably enjoying seeing me squirm at a mistake I've been trying to fix for over a year", the young boy angrily retorted, an anger reflected ever so diligently in his navy blue eyes."Look kid, this ain't all about you; in case you've forgotten, I was the one responsible for reawakening Grandfather", Ben explained rather directly to his nephew, his own black eyes fierce with suppressed rage as he did so."That's exactly my point; if it wasn't for you, none of us would be going through this right now", the stern bald boy replied, his tone ever fierce with suppressed rage and anger, even as he watched his uncle breath in a deep sigh."Why do you think I came here today kid", Ben asked, his voice soft yet still sharp and callous in his delivery.Surprisingly however, Nigel could feel his mouth opening, his navy eyes widening even as he turned to face the disgruntled looking man. "Did he really just say that", he thought. Even the unsuspecting words of Abigail from earlier began playing in his thoughts, though quick was he to shake off such thoughts as his gaze returned towards the lake once more."Well, I...I...Like you really-""What, you can't see me past a one-dimensional bad guy", he asked as Nigel squirmed for an answer, only to give up upon seeing his uncle's raised eyebrow."Well...not exactly", the young boy said, rubbing his head as his voice became nervous and high-pitched, much to his uncle's sighing dismay."Well, I can't really blame you", the grouchy louse casually replied. "But it's like I said earlier; I haven't exactly been up to evil lately.""Maybe it's guilt...maybe it's karma, I don't know. All I know is that I feel uneasy about the whole incident for some reason...", he admitted, unaware of the surprised expression we was receiving from his passive nephew."I guess it's like what I told you last year; sure Grandfather's evil, and I admire that, but he's also a JERK", he further explained, even as his teeth tensed and his black eyes quenched at the very mention of the word."Shouldn't that have been your first clue", the bald boy asked, his disbelief and curiosity rather evident upon his face."Do you want the rest of the story", he asked his nephew, his rather bemused expression enough to silence the curious bald boy once more."Ah...Point taken", he replied, his voice somewhat squeaky in its delivery."Well anyway...I had some strange feeling that I needed to make it up to Monty for some reason", Ben casually explained."And you felt fishing was the only logical choice to do so", asked a calm yet observant Nigel."Are you kidding! I'd rather sit down and watch Highlander 2 than relive those days again", the grouchy louse made clear with his almost enraged tone."Oh, right, your black sheep reputation", the bald boy reminded himself, a tiny grin emerging upon his face at the very mention of such words."Yeah...Well I guess to make a long story short, I just figured it would make him happy, guess I was right", he casually remarked as his gaze made its way towards the smiling old man."Yeah, I guess you were...", the young boy replied, his calm and gentle tone reflective in both his warm eyes and expression.Little did he know however that his uncle appeared aware of his expression, allowing for his own to twitch with devious delight before opening his mouth to speak once more."Awe, what's this...daddy troubles", asked a devious sounding Ben as his nephew cringed in realization."What! What would give you that impression", Nigel asked, unable to hide the nervousness his tone nor the blush stains on his cheeks."Kid, you've been trying to spit something out to him ever since we docked, I think that would be an indicator", he explained.Truthfully, Nigel felt resistive towards such an accusation as his navy eyes indicated. Yet those suspicious black eyes, that firm mouth, even those straight eyebrows, they were all it took before he found himself sighing rather subtly, his navy eyes reverting to a more melancholy glance than they'd appeared previously."I'm just having trouble seeing him as just my dad today...", the calm yet frustrating sounding boy explained, unaware of his uncle`s widening eyes."Oh, I see...", he replied rather casually, his silence only patient enough to last merely seconds before opening his mouth to speak once more. "It's that bad, huh?""Yes", replied teh bald boy, his frustration ever so clear within his tone. "It's not like I don't want to talk to him, it's just that I don't know how to go about adressing teh subject...I odn't even know I can approach that advice Two-Seventy-Three gave me earlier"."What did she tell you", Ben asked with curiosity."Something about how we must find peace through being oneself or something", Nigel explained in a rather frustrated tone, only able to hear the exasperated sigh coming from his uncle."God, that kid loves metaphors, doesn't she", he asked in an almost annoyed manner."She must get that from your side", the British boy replied rather bluntly."Yeah, I just pray that's all she got", the grouchy louse replied, teh very notion of mutant's malevolent laugh overshadowing hundreds of work enduced Cheesecake factories across teh world seemed enough to make him cringe with fear.Yet even with such a horrid image dancing in his head, it only took so long before he shook his head, allowing himself to be drawn back into his current reality once more."So, you going to try again kid", Ben asked, his mild interst enough to peak teh interest of his uncertain looking nephew."Well, I'd like to, but...Wait, have you even paying attention to the last few minutes or so", the frustrated bald boy asked his grouchy looking uncle."Look, you want to settle this thing, right? So, just do it", he explained, his frustrated tone rather unsetling to the now nervous looking boy."But...I don't even have a plan-""Just do it", Ben replied, his frustration peaking ever so diligently upon his face as he gave his nephew a rather violent push forward.And just like clockwork did Nigel move forward, his girlish scream a perfect fit for the surprised expression settling upon his face as his feet continually carried him across the the tiny boat. Though soon enough, he found himself falling into something round, something squishy, something that managed to break his fall. Asa result, it was only so long before he looked up to face the gentle face of his father beaming him a smile."Careful Nigel old bean, you walk too fast on this boat and you might end up face first with the fishes", Monty said ever so kindly,unaware of teh nervous laughter escaping his son's throat as he stood on his own two feet once more."Yeah, sorry dad...I'll try to be more careful", Nigel said reassuringly, his tone growing ever so venomous as his gaze shifted ever so slightly towards his grouchy looking uncle."Now, now son, remember; accidents do happen", the cheery old man commented, leaving his son at a loss for words once more."Yeah...I know...", the British boy calmly replied as he crouched down to his own knees, hanging his head over the boat as he did so.Sure enough, a blanket of silence overcame the tiny little boat once more. Though to be honest, it didn't take the young boy long before he felt determination overcome his very being, feeling almost confident as he raised his head before speaking once more."Say dad...", Nigel began rather calmly, catching his father's undivided attention almost immediately. "May I ask you something?""Of course son", Monty calmly replied as his son took one last deep breath before speaking once more."Well...I have this friend of mine...", he began."Really", his father asked."Yes...He's usually very sure of himself, but...well...he's been having trouble lately...For some reason, he can't seem to see someone he loves dearly as they are, rather than who they were...", the bald boy finished, feeling unsettled by an ever present tightness in his chest as he sat there, enduring silence once more."Son, let me ask you...Does this friend of yours love this person", the old man asked in an almost uncharacteristic observant tone."Of course", the British boy explained in an exasperated tone."So then he shouldn't let it bother him", the old British man sweetly remarked, even as his son stared at him in disbelief."What", he asked, confusion rather apparent in his tone."If your friend is so worried about that happening, than he's got nothing to worry about if already cares about this person, don't you think so old bean", Monty asked his son.And even though the feeling of surprise over swept him as his father put a hand to his shoulder, the bald boy could only feel comfort as his father grazed him with a kind yet reassuring smile."I guess...Thanks dad...", the young boy calmly replied.Yet almost instantly after did Nigel begin to feel his navy eyes widen; those words, they were such kind words, they were words that could only bring him a smile when they came from the mouth of his father."He who is lost must find peace and importance in one whom cares only about being oneself..."In some strange way, those words somehow only made much more sense to the bald boy than they had previously. Slowly, but surely did a small yet accepting smile graze his face shortly thereafter, one that seemed troublesome enough to draw concern upon the old man's face as he opened hos mouth to speak."Is something wrong son", he asked in a rather concerned manner, only to watch his son's face soften into an accepting smile."No dad...everything's fine", Nigel calmly explained, allowing his father's concerned expression to soften as he returned his attention towards the lake once more.Shortly after did Nigel too find himself reaching for his own rod, that ever accepting smile present upon his calm face as he began to wind up for a nice throw.End chap. 12 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was now 4:30; the moment in which the sun began to say its good-bye to the western world, it rays ever so gentle even as the Earth's hemisphere slowly rotated right past it. "What a lovely sight" thought Rachel as she took in such a glorious view, her smile small yet apparent even with the melancholy twinkle evident within her chocolate eyes. Clearly, she appeared in much better spirits than she had been earlier."Hey Sir", replied a voice which startled her from her peaceful state, only to feel relieved upon seeing the smiling face of Jeffery himself."Oh, sorry about that Numbuh 600, I was just lost in thought", said Rachel, her tone calm despite the stained blush apparent upon her soft cheeks."Ah, don't worry about it. But Patton's right though; you really are easy to startle", replied the soft spoken Jeffery, oblivious to the stern expression she gave him response before reverting to her calm state once more."So, is there any particular reason you've arrived here so late", she asked, her tone stern yet calm and attentive."What? Oh yeah, Patton wanted me to deliver this to you; said he'd forgotten about earlier", the blue eyed boy explained as he handed to her a small folder she curiously began to open.Surely enough however, her chocolate eyes began to light up ever so gently as she observed the object in question; why it was the weekly Cadet Evaluation, an item a Drill Sergeant could only dream of forgetting in most cases."Thank you", she replied rather sweetly as a smile brightened her soft face, at least temporarily. "Did he mention any other reason why he couldn't deliver this himself?""Well, he said he wanted to lock up the base by himself tonight", he chestnut haired boy explained, even as he watched his superior's face turn dim with blankedness."I see...", the young leader calmly replied. "Well, tell him I said thank you."With a small sigh, she could only bring herself to turn and gaze at the radiant orb called Earth once more. Her melancholy expression however, did not go unnoticed by the concerned looking blue eyed boy as he opened his mouth to speak."You okay, Sir", Jeffery asked, his concerned tone enough to snap the young girl back into reality once more."Oh, I'm alright Jeffery...It's just this day...I'm just finding myself thinking about memories I'd rather not remember...", explained the calm yet melancholy sounding Rachel."Yeah, I know; it's hard hearing people talk about it. But lucky for me, I don't really have any bad memories from the incident", the blue eyed boy expressed rather pridefully, even as his wide-eyed leader turned to face him."Oh...well, how nice for you...", the young girl sweetly expressed, swarms of jealousy overcoming her before reverting to her usual passive composure."Oh, I almost forgot; how has Patton been today", she asked."Ah, he's been okay", the chestnut haired boy casually replied. "He went a little harsher on the cadets today, but knowing him, I guess that was bound to happen.""I should have known", the young girl replied in disbelief, a small sigh escaping her mouth even as her gaze returned towards Earth one more. "Why must he be so stubborn when it comes to his own feelings?...""Well, he's never exactly been the most expressive person Sir,", Jeffery casually reminded her."I know...I just wish he would realize that he's not the only one who's suffering today", she expressed, the gaze in her chocolate eyes never wavering even as her tone grew with annoyance."I'm sure he does...but his report could only go so far", the boy casually expressed."What", the surprised young leader yelped as she turned to face her subordinate, turning in time to see his eyes widen as he clamped his hand to his mouth."What? Me? I didn't say anything", said Jeffery, his nervous tone an enormous tip-off for the now suspicious looking Rachel."You said something", the young leader sternly said as she watched her subordinates nervous twitching get ever more violent with every step she took towards him."I didn't say anything, you seriously thought I said something", the blue eyed boy asked, his nervous tone increasing ever so lightly in pitch as his superior's stern looking face appeared only a few inches away from his."Jeffery, you had better tell me what's going on", she explained, her stern tone ever more apparent as his nervous twitching continued."Trust me Sir, it's nothing you need to-""Jeffery", the young Supreme Leader sternly stated, her chocolate brown eyes fierce enough to leave even the mightiest of men scared shitless.Surely enough, it appeared that the blue eyed boy's twitching had reached its peak as he opened his mouth to speak."I'm sorry Sir! I would have stopped him, but I was a Citizombie at the time", Jeffery screamed as his arms wrapped themselves around the surprised looking Rachel ever so tightly."Please, you can't punish Patton! I mean, how many other people would make a contract to save a loved one", he continued on, yet through all the wailing and screaming did only one word seem important to the young blonde; contract."Contract? What about-""I mean, really, how else-""What about a contract", asked the young blonde, her eyes and tone reflective of anger, enough anger to silence the wailing boy as his eyes widened, he even smiled a bit as he freed his superior from his tight embrace."Oh...yes...a contract...", he said with a nervous chuckle as he backed away, only to feel his body freeze upon feeling the soft yet firm hand of his superior grasp his shoulder."Jeffery...would you be so kind as to inform me of this contract", asked Rachel, her tone calm despite the venom it hid. Yet even in spite of his previous state, the blue eyed boy could only sigh as he opened his mouth to speak."I'm sorry Sir, I can't tell you that", Jeffery explained, only to feel surprised wash over him as he came to face her stern yet suspicious expression once more."Perhaps I haven't made myself clear; you will inform me under direct order. Should you disobey, I'll have you scrub the Kids Next Door Super Convention Centre five times over", she explained, her tone never wavering despite the obvious face twitching her subordinate had going on."You wouldn't", he squeaked."Don't think I won't hesitate", the young girl expressed in that same calm yet venomous tone. "Now tell me, what's going on?"Slowly but surely, he could feel his twitching peaking once more. Though this time, it only took a mere instant as opposed to seconds before he opened his mouth to speak once more."Patton made a contract with Grandfather to sell him his youth", he screeched before clamping his mouth shut once more.Slowly but surely did the young blonde's stern grimace weaken, her chocolate eyes glazing over with horror as her expression became indescribable."What", asked the despondent Rachel, her expression ever indescribably as she loosened her grip upon the boy's shoulder."See, I told you you didn't want to hear that", Jeffery replied, his nervous tone ever prominent as he stared at his superior's expression."But...But that's impossible...How could he make a Faustian pact...", she asked herself as her voiced raised in pitch even as her subordinate began to raise an eyebrow."Okay, I don't know what that means, but I can tell you that it didn't last long. In fact, it ended when Grandfather was defeated", the blue eyed boy explained, oblivious to the vigorous switch from indescribable, to suppressed emotion."May I ask why...", the young blonde asked, her tone curious yet lethal."I'm afraid I can't tell you that Sir", he explained in a regretful tone, her expression as blank and suppressed as ever."I see...Very well then...Thank you for your time Jeffery...You're dismissed...", replied the despondent leader, her words enough to widen the blue eyes of the chestnut haired boy."Really? Well, that was pretty-", he began, only to feel himself panic upon watching his superior make her way towards the automatic doors. "Hey, where are you going!"But he was too late; for by the time he could even comprehend what was happening, she had already made her way out the door. Rather briefly did she cross paths with Fanny, who's emerald eyes lit up at the sight of such an expression carved upon her superior's face as the doors closed behind her."What's wrong with Rachel", asked Fanny, her tone a mix of confusion and concern."Oh, what do I do! What do I do! Patton's dead meat and it's all my fault! Oh why did I have to tell her about that contract he made with Grandfather", Jeffery rambled on in a panicky tone, completely oblivious to the angry glare developing upon the Irish redhead's face as she opened her mouth to speak."What! Freezer Boy made a contract with that old geezer", she asked, catching his undivided attention with her shrill tone."Yes, and now...Wait, how long have you been standing there", he asked, his confused tone enough to further aggravate the Irish girl."Does that really matter", she asked in an annoyed manner."Well, I guess not. But that's not the point; Patton's a goner now that I let his secret slip out to the one person he didn't want to know about it", the blue eyed boy explained as her stern glare remained ever prominent upon her face."Let me guess; he did it for love, didn't he", the Irish girl asked, emphasizing the word "love" as she did so."Wow, you catch on pretty quick", he replied, only to get from her a subtle groan in reply."Typical; thinkin' ahead is what you boys never do", Fanny said in a rather aggravated tone, one which caused Jeffery's own face to begin budding with anger."Oh right; like you wouldn't do the same", he replied, only to revert to his regretful state shortly after. "Oh, what's the use; pretty soon, Patton's going to be decommissioned, and it's all my fault...""I doubt that", the Irish girl replied rather calmly, even as she remained oblivious to the look of disbelief he shot at her."Okay, you did see how angry she was, right", he asked as she groaned in aggravation once more."Simmons, use that peanut you call yer' brain fer' once ; if she was so gung-ho te' decommission him, why would she be goin' te' meet him all by herself", Fanny asked, her tone clearly one of aggravation."Yeah, but why would she...Oh...Oh...OH...Oh I get it now...I think", the blue eyed boy replied rather curiously, leaving the freckled redhead no choice but to raise her hand to her forehead as she unleashed an aggravated sigh.End chap. 13 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sunset was becoming more evident to the little town of Gallagher, why the mere fact that the bell tolled five o'clock was proof of that. Though to be honest, this didn't seem to bother Hoagie even the lightest. Though really, how could it when he was seated on his comfy lounge chair, his smile ever apparent as his hand reached into the popcorn bowl, even his laughter was apparent and hearty as he remained attached to the big screen.Though apparently, his attention proved not so perfect as his ears perked up at the sound of creeky hinges, his curiosity ever peaked as he wondered just who could it be coming in at this hour. His curiosity however, seemed to gradually fade however, replaced with a smile as he saw four familiar shadows enter the room."Tadaima", chirped the cheerful voices of Kuki and Alex in harmonious unison."Hey guys, welcome back", Hoagie cheerfully greeted as he got up from his seat on the chair. "You guys are home pretty early.""Well we would've been here a bit earlier if Alex hadn't stopped ta' window shop", explained the ever blunt yet spunky voice belonging to Abigail, even as the mutant brunette gave her a disappointing glare."Oh come on; they had the Apocalypse arc of Utena, plus the movie on sale! I couldn't say no to that", Alex explained in a slightly whiny tone."I know what you mean", replied the plump boy in a genuinely understanding tone. "Oh say, Numbuh 4, did you get me my-""Got it", Wally immediately replied as he dumped a bag of fresh fish into his friend's arms, watching his face light up in delight."Thanks buddie", he gleefully replied, only to feel curiosity upon realizing that something seem out of place. "Hey, how come Numbuh 1's not with you guys?""Oh don't worry about; you'll find out soon enough baby", replied the spunky sounding black girl, much to the confusion forming upon her plump friend's face.Things appeared quiet in the familiar surroundings of the tree house briefing room, a little too quiet for Hoagie's tastes. Then again, it had only been ten minutes; ten minutes of silence, ten minutes of waiting. Ten minutes of watching Wally's bored expression, ten minutes of watching Kuki humming happy tunes while kicking her feet back and forth before he finally had the nerve to speak."I don't even get it; why would you guys just come home without Numbuh 1", Hoagie asked his short friend."That's what I've been askin' fo' the past two hours; neither of them are givin' me a straight answer", Wally replied, his tone filled with obvious annoyance as he did so."Ooh, I know; maybe they want to throw Numbuh 1 a surprise birthday party", Kuki excitedly suggested."That's stupid; besides, Numbuh 1's birthday's not even until November", he explained in an annoyed fashion."Oh don't be silly; everybody knows you don't throw a surprise birthday party when someone's expecting it", the little Asian girl replied in a more sassy yet innocent tone, much to her blonde friend's dismay."Yeah, sure", he replied in a rather dismissive tone."My, how close on the mark you are Kuki-chan", replied a familiar voice which caused the three friends to turn and face the auditorium.Sure enough, their vision became engulfed by Abigail standing atop the podium, a confident looking Alex right at her side, not that it did much to bemuse the trio's curiosity."Oh sure, now you pipe up; what the crud is goin' anyway", the blonde Aussie asked, his tone now bordering on anger."It's simple man; we're throwin' Numbuh 1 a surprise party", the spunky co-leader replied, much to the now surprised expression forming upon the Aussie's face."Wait, so we're actually throwing Numbuh 1 a surprise birthday party", the confused pilot asked in mild disbelief."No, just a regular surprise party" Abigail explained rather bluntly."Oh...well then what's the point of throwing him a surprise party if we're not even celebrating his birthday", the little Asian asked as her tone became one of bemusement."Yeah, but don't you think it would be nice if Numbuh 1 can actually look back on this day and have some decent memories?...Besides the one's with his dad", the motherly girl asked in her blunt tone, watching as their faces brightened with epiphany ever so slightly."She's right, that would be nice. And it would certainly beat having a grumpy Numbuh 1, count me in", Hoagie cheerfully stated."Yeah, me too", the short Aussie replied now with enthusiasm in his voice."Okay" Kuki excitedly remarked as it brought a smile to the black girl's face."Glad ta' see ya'll are on board", she coolly remarked. "Okay, now we only got a few hours ta' ready before Numbuh 1 gets home. You guys got any positions fo' yourselves in mind?""Oh, I call baking", Alex replied with excitement as she held her hand up in excited desperation."Ooh, I can be in charge of decorations", the plump boy enthusiastically replied."Ooh, I'll go to the video store and rent a couple of movies we can all enjoy", the short Aussie enthusiastically chimed in."Ooh, I want to be in charge of cooking", the little Asian girl cheerfully chirped, oblivious to the cringe worthy looking appearing upon her friend's faces."Ah...that's very sweet of ya' Numbuh 3, but Numbuh 5 thinks she's better off bein' in charge of cookin'", replied the nervous sounding black girl."Oh, but I can help Numbuh 5; besides, you know how much I enjoy cooking", the cheerful Asian girl said with such enthusiasm, enthusiasm reflective in both her tone, and her big violet eyes."This coming from someone who watches Sandra Lee", Hoagie quietly whispered to his Aussie friend."Well what about the rice balls I made last week? You guys all enjoyed them right", she sweetly asked, only to feel a tightness lurking in her chest upon hearing no immediate answer. "You guys did enjoy them...right?...""Well, yeah...if they were from Seshuan I would I have", the plump boy honestly explained rather nervously, not that it did much to calm the nerves of the ebony haired girl as her eyes now gleamed of nervousness, even as she turned to face Abigail."I'm a good chef...right Numbuh 5...", she asked her motherly friend.Unfortunately for her, nervousness was the only feeling the black girl could feel emerging inside of her. Those big, innocent eyes looked so shiny, it was enough to make her cringe ever so before finally clearing her throat to speak."Kuki...Numbuh 5 doesn't know how ta' tell ya' this, so she's just gonna' let Alex blurt it out in the most obnoxious way possible...", said the nervous sounding Abigail as she allowed her curly haired friend stand in front of her, allowing her to clear her throat before she opened her mouth to speak."You suck at cooking", the mutant brunette said in as blunt a tone as possible for her, watching ever so observantly as she witnessed her ebony haired friend allow such words to sink in, her expression ever so crushed as it was shocked."I stink", asked Kuki, her mouth hanging open, her hands shaking, even her violet eyes glazing over in shock. "But...But I really enjoy cooking.""And unfortunately honey, that's not a point in your favour", the mutant brunette bluntly explained."But...That's not possible...You guys never said anything", she explained as her tone became ever more high pitched."Trust me, I would've told you if these guys had given me a chance", the short Aussie replied with honesty."Sure, but would have said it nicely", asked a suspicious sounding Hoagie as he watched his friend search for an answer, only to get an exasperated expression he took in full stride."Well...That doesn't mean I should just give up!...I mean...I can still try", the little Asian girl retorted, her nervousness thinly veiled beneath the optimistic tone she attempted to convey."I don't think that's such a good idea Numbuh 3", the black girl wearily replied."Well why not", the nervous Asian girl asked."Because, do you remember the time you invited us to ya' family reunion, and ya' made that Coconut Udon Stirfy", she asked."Yeah", replied the violet eyed girl."How many compliments did you get", the now motherly sounding black girl asked."None", she meekly replied."And how many people almost got food poisionin'", she asked in a sharp yet still motherly sounding tone."Eleven", she replied as her tone turned regretful."And how many people forgot they were allergic ta' coconut", she asked in a rather sharp tone."One...But that one wasn't my fault", she explained, even as her blonde friend gave her a stingy glare."Oh sure, like it's my fault that I forgot about bein' allergic to coconut", Wally explained, his tone clear with anger."But you've known that since you were like four", the plump boy reminded his friend, watching his emerald eyes widen within seconds."Well, ya' can't expect me ta' remember everythin'",he stubbornly replied, crossing his arms as he remained oblivious to the the rather subtle face palm his plump friend was currently bestowing upon himself.Though shortly after did they turn to see the darling eyes of their usually cheerful friend expanding, a few droplets forming as she began puckering her lower lip. Truthfully, it was a sight that could only form sadden looks upon their faces as they watched silently for mere seconds."Oh, it's okay Numbuh 3. If you want, you can help me set up the decorations", said the cheerful sounding Hoagie, placing his arm around his small friend as she looked up to meet his face, now with curiosity dancing in her eyes."Really", she asked her smiling friend."Sure, I'll even let you be in charge", the pudgy boy cheerfully replied as he gave her a reassuring wink, allowing for her face to light up almost instantly."Yay! Thanks Numbuh 2", Kuki happily chirped as her long sleeved arms engulfed the round boy in her grasp, the mere sight of his flustered reaction to her happiness enough to put a smile upon Abigail's face."Well, look's like we got over that bridge...Okay guys, we better get goin'. Knowin' Numbuh 1's dad, he'll be home befo' eight", the spunky black girl calmly observed."Well then what the hell are we standing around here for? There's a party to organize", the mutant brunette decreed, a determined yet psychotic motivation gleaming in her eyes as she said such words, allowing for rather odd looks to graze her friend's faces at such a notion.By 6:00, the sun had already begun to say it's good-bye to the waking world for today. Though one might never know that from the army of smells which filled Sector V's kitchen space. Smells of tomato sauce spiked with a hint of cayenne, smells of boiling pasta and even simmering buffalo wings, it was truly an aroma Abigail felt proud to be in the centre of.Why, she even took a tiny taste for the tomato sauce. Sure enough, a satisfied smile was the only thing visible upon her face before she put the lattle back in its resting place."Hey Alex, you done with that cake", asked a curious Abigail as she made her way over towards the back of the kitchen.To her surprise however, stood a beautiful white cake covered in cream cheese frosting. Its detail was flawless, with lines, even small cream puffs everywhere, it almost looked professional enough to be a wedding cake. Though to be fair, that only seemed a fair judgement considering the designer in question; Alex herself. A small smile ever apparent as she continually squeezed frosting atop the cake, her min elsewhere as she hummed "I'll Find the Light" from Magic Knight Rayearth to herself."Ooh girl, you've certainly outdone yo' self this time", the spunky black commented, catching the attention of her friend as she did so."I'll say, this is looking great...Oh no, why is it lop siding itself on me", said a frustrated looking Alex as she took her squeezing device back towards the lopsided dollop atop the cake."Okay, up...up...Good! Now just a little bit more to the left", replied a familiar cheery sounding voice which peaked the duo's curiosity.Yet shortly after they turned their attention to the lounge room did their mouths drop simultaneously. The room had been covered in fancy decorations, with pink and blue streamers atop the the ceiling, a rainbow coloured food buffet table lay smack dab in the middle of the room, even the chairs and TV had been beautifully draped in neon velveted blankets.Truly, it was a sight o be hold. It's just too bad that Hoagie's face contained an expression of frustration rather than enjoyment as he attempted to take the "Happy Celebration" sign atop the ceiling wall, sighing as he found himself being stopped by the sounds of a bull horn."No Numbuh 2! I said a little more to the left, you're going too far over", said Kuki in a demanding tone, one which seemed to only garner an eye rolling from her plump friend as he turn to speak."You know, when I said you could be in charge of decorations, this isn't what I had in mind", replied the frustrated sounding Hoagie."But you have to follow the design accordingly! How is Numbuh 1 suppose to appreciate this if it's not drawn by a skilled eye", she asked in a sweet yet sassy sounding tone, showing him the crayon sketched design plan as she did."Yeah, just how is he suppose to appreciate crayon sketches", the plump boy sarcastically replied as he returned to his duty, allowing for the little girl to fume in frustration before sticking her nose up high into the air."Decorators; what can you do with them", she replied, her sassy tone ever present as her two friends stood there, their own faces widened in rather subtle surprise."Wow, and you guys say I'm a perfectionist", the mutant girl casually remarked."I'm back", replied a familiar Australian accented voice which caught the quartet's interest."Bout time; what took you so ling", asked a curious sounding Abigail as she watched Wally walk into the room, his expression a grumpy stare as he dumped a giant bag onto one of the velveted lounge chairs."Well I got ta' the video store on time, but than I had the cruddiest time tryin' ta' find all of the movies! They really gotta' orgamize that place better", Wally complained."That, or just make the system idiot proof", the sarcastic black girl whispered to her mutant friend, causing her to snicker ever so as she did.""Oh Wally, did you get my-""Yeah, yeah. You sure Numbuh 1's gonna' wanna' watch that lovely dovey crud", he asked, all the while handing her a familiar looking Rainbow Monkey videotape."Well duh! What movie marathon would be complete without Rainbow Monkeys; Legend Aboard the Titanic", asked the little Asian, who remained too starry eyed to care that her blonde friend had been reduced to loud groaning at the very notion."Oh guys, I just thought up some new jokes to tell at the party! You want me to run them by you", asked a much more cheerful Hoagie as his feet touched the ground once more."Oh come on man; we get enough of yo' yack fests durin' the week", replied a frustrated sounding Abigail."Ah, but this is different Numbuh 5. This time, you're guaranteed to laugh your "guts" out", he explained, he even laughed a little despite the obvious groaned that escaped his female friend's mouth."Okay. So, why do they call this show Two and a Half Men? Because when you put them together "side" by "side", they make up "half" the running time", the plump boy happily retorted, howling in laughter at his own joke before coming to the realization that his laugh was all he could hear in the silent room of blank expressions."Huh, tough crowd...Okay, let me try another one-"Yet suddenly before he knew it, fear overcame the plump pilot as he found himself in the clutches of a strange mechanical arm. He even screamed a little before finding himself face to face with the wall, the impact enough to make him slide down the wooden surface before meeting the ground with an exhausted groan."Numbuh 2", the quartet screamed in unison, their faces covered in concern as they rushed over towards their comrade and friend."Numbuh, you alright man", asked a concerned sounding Abigail."Oh, don't worry about me Numbuh 5. I'm as clean an spry as a whistle", the plump boy replied, even despite the obvious air headed quality in his tone."Yeah, but what about the scratch marks", asked a curious yet concerned sounding Wally."It's a flesh wound", he dizzily explained to his friend, all the while his mutant friend's face began to turn red with annoyance."Oh Hoagie-kun, you know you're only suppose to use that joke in context", replied an annoyed sounding Alex."Speaking of which, what is the context of this situation anyhow", she asked in a much more serious tone seconds later."That's what Numbuh 5 would like ta' know", replied a stern sounding Abigail.Though surely enough, her thirst for knowledge was answered as the mechanical arm quickly slithered its way out of the tree house and through the crater, slithering back to reveal five familiar looking faces in an oddly familiar cockpit."Hello Kids Next Door. It seems you're leader is not here right now...How delightful...", said the sinister voices of none of than the Delightful Children, their sinister presence enough to gain a small scawf from the black girl's lips."Well, that figures", she bluntly remarked.End chap.14 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was only 6:30 on Arctic time, and yet already the sky had become blanketed in a thick layer of darkness, it's smaller cover of such bright stars the only light such a blanket provided upon the still waking world. Why, even the moon appeared visible amongst the vast darkness, giving off its own gentle light. Unfortunately, such a light could only bring sorrow to Patton's face as his eyes remained ever intent on the gentle orb, lost within the thoughts of his own mind as his gaze remained ever intent on such large craters. That is, at least until he unleashed a rather deep sigh."I'm so sorry...my angel", he finished in a melancholy tone as he continued to gaze at the moon, sorrow still clearly detailed in his black eyes as he did so.Sighing once more, the young Drill Sergeant's mind still seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts as he went to leave his office."Gee, I never knew you could be so melodramatic", said a soft, yet stern voice from across the room.Despite the surprise he felt at first, Patton was quick to pull out his trusty S.C.A.M.P.P. From his cargo pants as he aimed in the direction the voice came from, his gentle eyes now described intent determination as he did so."Who's there", his gruff voice low yet authoritative tone as he spoke. "Show yourself!""You never change, do you Patton", asked the possible intruder, a stern tone clear in their rather feminine sounding voice even as the young boy's grimace tightened. "If I were you, I would consider removing your finger from that trigger.""Really", he asked halfheartedly, even raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "And what makes you think I won't just shoot and lock you up any second now? I am a credible operative after all.""Enough that you would pull the trigger before proper inspection", asked the soft yet stern feminine voice once more.Although suspicion was still present on his face, the young Drill Sergeant walked over towards the lounge area of his office as he turned the lights on. But as he did so, his mouth could only drop as he came to realize just who this "intruder" turned out to be.Why it was none other than the object of his current thoughts; Rachel herself. And even though she sat perched atop one of the few stools in the lounge area, a stern expression was clearly detailed upon her beautiful face as she stared at him, her arms and legs crossed in a similar stern manner. Truthfully, his black eyes, his mouth remained wide open as his cheeks became flushed with a rather deep pink hue."R-Rachel", he stuttered, putting the gun away as clumsily, and as embarrassed as one could be. "Really, I'm sorry about that. I mean, if I'd known that that was you, I never would have-""Don't worry about it Patton; it's alright", the young blonde calmly replied, giving him leeway to take in a deep breath of relief.Yet, a very peculiar question could only arise inside his mind; just why what was she even doing at Arctic Base so late in the first place? Last minute business? NO; especially not with such an unsettling look upon her face. Though his time to ponder seemed to come to an end as the raven haired boy gave his superior a suspicious stare, opening his mouth to speak as he did so."Say", he began in a suspicious sounding tone. "How did you even get in here?""A former top spy never reveals her secrets", replied the young Supreme Leader."You snuck in through the back, didn't you", he asked, raising an eyebrow in devious suspicion before silence befell the conversation momentarily."That's classified", she replied rather quickly."Besides", she continued almost immediately. "Banter was not the reason I came here.""Oh really", replied the suspicious sounding raven-haired boy. "And just why are you here?""I'm here because I need to discuss something with you", the young girl stern explained, pausing for a brief moment before opening her mouth to speak once more. "Events regarding what happened here during the ZERO incident."Upon hearing that statement, Patton felt himself cringe in fear. Fear so fresh it sent shivers up his spine, fear so fresh he could even feel his chest tightening an his mouth felt it was unable to open itself even temporarily. Why, he could even the fear still pulsing inside him as his now nervous gaze met with her stern yet suspicious looking gaze."Wha-What are you talking about", Patton asked, nervousness clearly seeping through his voice as he did so."It's come to my attention that you didn't exactly write up everything that happened during the incident...especially if it pertained directly to you...", she sternly explained, the intensity in her chocolate brown eyes enough to make him gulp in nervous unease."Who told you that", the young boy asked as nervousness seeped through his voice once more."I have my sources", the young blonde replied in a stern yet casual tone.Upon hearing that sentence, the raven haired boy immediately cursed the name of his friend Jeffery under his breath, as if he instantly knew just who the perpetrator was exactly. Curiosity however, got the better of him once he sighed in frustration, turning to face his superior with curious intent in his black orbs as he did."How much were you told exactly", he asked in a stern yet curious tone."Well...I've been informed that you not only lied about actual events, but that you also signed a contract with Grandfather, exchanging your youth as a bargaining chip. But for what reason I'm not aware of. Is this true", she asked, her tone stern yet calm in its delivery.As soon as she answered that question however, a blanket of silence erupted over the room as she watched Patton intently, even able to see his face become regretful as his gloved hand became a tight fist. Surely enough though, the silence came to end the moment the young boy looked up to face her once more, his face more stern, almost determined this time as he opened his mouth to speak."Yes...", he admitted, his stern tone still unable to veil its obvious nervousness.As if it were prophecized, silence encased the room once more. What's more, Rachel's stern grimace never once left her beautiful face even as she uncrossed her arms and legs to be in a more comfortable position, opening her mouth in attempt to end said silence once more."Well Patton, I have one thing to ask you", the young girl calmly replied, allowing for silence to resurface before speaking once more."Are you out of your mind! What the hell were you thinking", she angrily asked, no longer attempt to hold back her rage for even a second."Look Rache, I understand what I did was wrong and stupid, but you have to understand that I was only doing what I thought was right at the time", the young boy defended, his tone stern in its determination."Oh, and I suppose making Faustian pacts falls under that category for you", she angrily retorted as her male friend raised a confused eyebrow."What? Look, what was I suppose to do, just stand around and do nothing", he asked in a much frustrated tone than he had previously done."If you really had no one else to protect, you could have come to Global Command; you could have fought alongside your fellow operatives to protect our base, fight alongside me! But instead, you decide to turn around and pull a stunt like this", the young blonde angrily retorted."Oh and you don't think I regret that? You don't think that I haven't had my moments where I just shut down, where I wish I could just erase everything I've done? Having sleepless nights for days because I don't know how to make it go away", the Drill Sergeant asked as his frustrated tone increased once more."So then do it; I took responsibility for every single one of my mistakes during the incident Patton. And even if it hurts to talk about it, at least I know I've atoned. If you really feel sorry for what you've done, then you'll atone for your guilt", the young leader explained, her tone stern yet frustrated and authoritative all at once.Unfortunately though, she failed to see the the regretful expression tightening upon her dear friend's face, even in his black eyes. His fist even began to shake a little as he let out yet another regretful sigh."Rache, I can't do that", the young boy explained, his tone low yet oozing with regret."Why? Because of your reasoning", Rachel stern yet angrily asked. "What was it anyway?""I already told you; I can't do that", Patton explained, his frustrated tone slowly turning into one of anger."Oh, I see. So you're just going to leave me in the dark; you're just going to assume that I'll accept your lack of an answer and forget this ever happened. Well I won't. After all, how do I know your reason wasn't selfish or unmitigated? How would I know if you actually did something so vile you'd rather not say?"Yet hearing such words was enough to make Patton's face tighten with anger, even his fists began to tighten grew as he listened to the continuing relentless composure he usually admired before finally opening his mouth to speak."I did it for you, okay", the young boy angrily shouted, silencing her in the process."Wha...What", the young blonde asked, a look of surprise, even confusion now clearly visible on her soft face."That's right", he sternly admitted before continuing. "I signed that contract you spare you from his wrath, all because I couldn't bear seeing you be someone you're not. But what does it matter, I was tricked and you fell at my hands instead of being protected by them.""So go ahead; call me a traitor, decommission me for all I care! All I know is that I was thinking of you" he sternly explained, taking a breath before he managed to open his mouth once more."I'm sorry Rachel...But I can't help it if I want to protect you...I mean I...I love you just the way you are..."Once he uttered those last eight words, a silence like no other swept across the room as Rachel sat there, unmitigated shock clear upon her beautiful face as she absorbed everything she'd just heard. The raven haired boy on the other hand, tilted his head down in embarrassment as his cheeks became stained with red blush. Saying such words was bad enough, but now he stood there, waiting to hear the answer he so deserved for making such a remark."Thank you", replied the soft yet angelic voice that belonged to the young blonde, causing him to look up and stare at his Supreme Leader as shocked formed upon his face."Thank you", he asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he did."Yes, thank you for being honest with me", she calmly explained. "I must admit, I was a little nervous at first...I couldn't imagine someone as sweet as you doing something so selfish without intent...But having heard your argument, I think I understand your position a little more..."Yes, it doesn't excuse what you did, but I'm sure you're fully aware of that already...", the young blonde explained, her words enough to surprise the usually calm Drill Sergeant before opening his mouth to speak."Just like that? But then what about...well...you know...", the young boy asked as he felt his cheeks being stained with red blush, unaware of the blush creeping upon his dearly beloved's face as well."Well, let;s just say that I appreciate your honesty...and I hope that you can appreciate how I feel...", the young girl sweetly yet calmly explained.And as she said those words, Patton let out a small sigh. At first, his face became drowned in sadness, yet ever so gently did it become engrossed in the acceptance he felt he could take form her words, that is until his black eyes widened as he witnessed a single tear-drop escape her melancholy looking chocolate eyes. Walking over ever so gently, he raised a single finger towards her face, allowing for the soft tear to gently splash on top of his gloved finger, causing Rachel to stare at him in surprise."If that's true, then why are you crying", he asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he did so.Although confusion was evident on her face at first, a quick check made her gas in shock as she began to wipe her face onto her orange sleeves. All she felt she could do now was give him a sweet smile of reassurance, which she did."What are you talking about? I'm not crying", Rachel calmly explained."I beg to differ, you are", Patton replied as he crossed his arms, his face now intent with suspicion as her eyes widen ever so briefly with fear."Patton, I can assure you I'm not crying", the young blonde sternly defended."I'm not buying for a second, and you know it", the young Drill Sergeant sternly admitted, his words enough to make her face twitch with anger."Well, I'm flattered by your sudden authority. But don't I have a right to keep to myself", the young girl asked in a stern yet authoritative tone."Don't I have a right to an explanation", he asked as her eyes widened in realization.A moment of silence then cut across the room as Patton sternly stood there, waiting for his answer as Rachel sat there, her eyes as wide as they had been before. She couldn't say, she thought to herself. She couldn't possibly admit feelings she buried for even longer. Yet one look at his stern face and she could feel herself cracking, she even chuckled a little before opening her mouth to speak once more."You're really the only one who can break me, aren't you", the young girl began, her soft words enough to make him raise an eyebrow. "It doesn't seem to matter; you always see through me, you always give me the support I need and the words I want to hear, just hearing you is enough to brighten my day.""You even managed to break me that day; because all I could think of was how much I wanted you back, how much I wanted to hear you laugh and tell me that things will work out no matter what happens...And that never came...And even now, all I want is for you to know that you're not alone...that you're not the only one who's suffering today...", she explained, her weak smile ever present despite the obvious squeakiness of her voice."I'll admit, your constant impulsive streak and your lack of responsibility drives me up the wall...but even so I...I...I can't help but be attracted to what a kind person you are...", she finished.All at once, her smile began to waver, her body began to shake as she buried her face in her hands, whimpering sobs beginning to escape her mouth as her shoulder continued to shake. All at once, the raven haired boy's eyes began to waver in regret, even sorrow. His chest grew tighter, even his stern grimace began to waver before he finally took hold of her moving shoulders, surprising her as she came to face hurt filled black eyes."Oh Rachel, I'm so sorry", he began in a sorrowful tone, causing her eyes to widen as he did."Sorry", she asked, her angelic tone now clearly filled with concern."I'm so sorry for not realizing your pain...I was so caught up in how I was feeling that I didn't even notice everything you were going through. I couldn't even realize that you love me, and I'm the one who always wants to see you happy...I don't even deserve to love you...", the young boy explained as his tone became shaky, even allowing a few rare tears to escape down his face.Yet what he could not see was the surprised, yet touched look that grazed her face. Slowly however, did it that sweet smile graze her face once more as she began to gently stroke his hair with her slender fingers."You don't need to feel ashamed of that Patton, it's okay to be selfish every once in awhile", Rachel said, her tone comforting, almost motherly in its reassurance. " Besides, your previous concerns over my feelings if proof enough.""Then I want to continue with that", he said in a whispery yet determined tone."What", she asked, her eyes widening in curiosity as he brought his back up to meet her gaze once more."I want to know your pain, always...And I want you to know my pain", he began. "I want us to solve our problems...together...", he finished, his tone whispery, yet determined. Almost romantic even.Almost instantly, could the young blonde feel blush form inside her cheeks. Yet almost immediately could she feel herself overcome by sorrow as her glazed looking chocolate eyes expressed."Oh Patton...That;s very sweet, but I don't know...", the young blonde calmly explained."Oh come on", the young boy said rather softly. "It's not like the rules say we can't be together.""No, but even so", she continued on. "I'm not willing to risk your safety.""I can, especially if your happiness is concerned", he expressed in very sweet yet determined manner, even as she shot him a look of disbelief."You can't promise me that", the young girl softly yet sternly decreed as she watched his assuring eyes soften in melancholy."I know", the raven haired boy said rather glumly. "But if I can, I'd like to work towards making that a goal for you", he finished as the young blonde felt her eyes widen once more."But-""Come on Rachel", he said in a soft tone as his smile remained fixated on her face. "Don't throw away the happiness you want. You work so hard, you deserve to have what your heart wants, don't you think?"A moment of silence was once again thrusted upon them as Rachel sat there, feeling tingly inside from the words of the boy that continued to smile so softly at her. Inside her, there appeared a growing resistance to such a notion, though one that proved weak the more she gazed into his gentle black eyes."Well...I suppose, but-""Just let me try Rache...I know I can make you happy...", he said as he continued to smile softly at her.And with that, the raven haired boy gently caressed her cheeks as he gently placed a passionate kiss on her lips. True, she was taken aback at first. Though eventually, she found it intoxicating as her eyes closed shut, and her lips delivered their own amount of passion to his own. After what seemed like an eternity, the two kids broke their lip lock, continuing to stare at each other dreamingly as if the moment had never ended."Well", the young boy softly asked.Shortly after did the young blonde sigh, opening her mouth to speak as she did so."Well...normally I wouldn't go along with this", replied the young Supreme Leader."But you will...won't you", the boy asked in a devious, almost assuring manner."Well I'll have to if you such desire and determination", the young girl replied, her tone reassuring as she gave him a devious stare, one which he thoroughly requited."I knew you'd see it my way" he said rather deviously, his usual devious smile surfacing onto his face as he did so."Oh really", she asked in a devious tone. "And what would you have done if I said no?""Well since you gave me the reply I wanted to hear, I would've pestered you until you said yes", he deviously replied. "Well, that or until you just hit me, whichever came first."Upon hearing his joke, the young blonde could only muster a hearty laugh. Though her laugh proved fairly infectious, for soon after did he find himself chiming in with her laughter. Surely enough though, their laughter was ceased by silence, a silence that was short lived as Rachel opened her mouth to speak one more."So", the young girl began in a much chipper tone. "Can you feel your guilt suppressing?""Well", he began. "It's going to take awhile before it all goes away. But...I doubt it'll take long now..."Smiling deviously at one another, the young Drill Sergeant leaned his handsome face into her beautiful face, leading his beloved angel into a passionate kiss once more. This time however, the kiss proved much deeper as Rachel rested her soft hands on his warm chest, giving him credence to wrap his his arms around her slender waist.As if within an instant, they broke their previous bonds, creating a new bond that would surely last an eternity.End chap. 15 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was only seven o'clock in Gallagher, yet already the night sky appeared blanketed in tiny little stars, every last one a drop of light shrouding the night sky. To all appearances, they seemed to calm Nigel, his navy eyes lost as he kept them on the stars shining whimsy. Though in reality, it was all he could do to ignore the groan worthy gags coming from his uncle in the back seat. Unfortunately for him, all he could feel was his eyes rolling over, even feeling an unneeded sigh escape his throat as he continually listened to such a horrid sound Though oddly, this didn't seem to bother Monty one bit. In fact, he even smiled."Just like old times, huh Ben", asked a cheerful sounding Monty."You know, when I think of you catching fish, I always remember it being more tolerable", Ben replied in a clearly annoyed tone."Oh, it didn't matter; why I could catch fifty fish and you'd still find the stench vomit inducing", he jovially replied, his words peaking Nigel's sudden interest."Really", the bald boy asked with enthusiasm."Like you wouldn't believe it old bean! Why, I remember the time pappie came home with at least fifty bags of salmon, he got so sick he couldn't eat for weeks after they stunk up the house", he finished with glee as his son began to laugh, much to his brother's bemusement."Yeah, yeah, hah, I forgot how to laugh", the grouchy man replied in a rather sarcastic manner, feeling his attention return as the cramped truck stopped in front of his mansion. "Well, thanks for dropping me off Monty.""Any time Ben", the old man happily replied. But only as he did did Nigel's head turn, his navy eyes filled with an almost anxious glaze as he opened his mouth to speak."Wait, Uncle Ben", cried the mildly hysteric bald boy as his words caught his uncle's attention."What is it kid", he asked in a less than interested tone."I just wanted to thank you for earlier", the British boy sincerely explained as he took in his uncle's reaction; first, he appeared surprised, almost touched even. But quickly did that look revert to his much grumpier composure."Yeah, well...think nothing of it kid...I just can't stand people acting all mopey around me, kapeish", he asked his nephew who said nothing in return at first. Why, he even smiled a little as he raised an eyebrow."Kapeish", the young boy said in a more all knowing manner."Good", the grouch said in a much more confident manner, unaware of the tiny smirk his nephew gave him as his feet carried him up the path to the front of his mansion."So, did you have fun today Nigel", asked a voice which surprised Nigel before he turned to face the gentle smiling face of his father."Yeah, I did actually", he calmly replied, only to feel concerned as he watched his dad let out a small sigh."Oh good, for awhile there I was starting to worry about you...But you know how parents are...", he jovially replied, allowing for Nigel to feel his own relief upon hearing his father's chuckles."I'm home my Delightful Children", Ben loudly announced as he entered the front door, though something didn't seem right; it was dark, too quiet even as his suspicious eyes depicted. " That's strange, where are those-"Though shortly after did he feel himself being cut off by a rather loud explosion, one that sounded very near, one that made him feel himself gulp before making a small turn around. Sure enough, he turned to see smoke rising into the air, very little debris even flying through the air, and all from a few blocks away. Though oddly enough, it was confusion that grazed rather than confusion, much like it had done for Nigel and Monty."Oh dear, I sure hope those people know it's past the fourth of July", replied a mildly surprised sounding Monty.Unfortunately though, Nigel could only feel his eyes widen upon seeing the location in which the explosion came from; why it was none other then Ebeneezer Way, directly in front of his property to be premise."Listen dad, I need to do something! You stay here", the bald boy replied, his growing ever more stern as he leapt from the car to the street, sprinting the instant he hit the ground."Wait, Nigel come back", cried the confused sounding Monty. "Nigel!"But it was too late, for the young boy was already half a block away from where they parked by the time he heard his father say anything. Hi breath was hoarse now, even his eyes grew more stern in their determination the more he sprinted, with one glaring exception dancing in his head."Dammit", the one day I pick not to wear jet boots", the British bald boy cursed to himself, ignoring his comment seconds later as he continued on his way, growing more weary of the damage that had been done.Yet, Nigel could only wish to know just how powerful that explosion was. In fact, it was powerful enough to send the GUMZOKA-weilding Abigail back a few feet, why she was lucky even to find herself landing on her own two feet as gracefully as she did. In fact, it even sent the telekinetic magatama-weilding Alex back a few feet, causing her to wobble a bit before landing to her own two feet, though not as gracefully as her friend had done."Don't these beatniks ever take a break", Alex asked in a rather annoyed sounding tone."Oh come girl, if they did that they'd be out of a job...Either way, it's gonna make that food taste all the sweeter", Abigail said in a rather jokey yet spunky tone, causing her friend smile."I concur...Even if that does sound like something Hoagie-kun would say", the mutant brunette replied.Seconds later though did the ground shake, catching the duo's attention as they looked up to face their target; the Really Really Incredibly Destructive Machine, a group of sinister looking Delightful Children calmly placed in its cockpit."We must admit; this certainly beats drinking tea for a whole evening", the creepy children spoke in sinister unison."Awe, I wouldn't count on that Delightful Dopes, we all know you can do better than that. If anythin', you look like ya' startin' ta' get bored ta' Numbuh 5", the spunky black girl replied in a teasing manner, though never once did their smirks leave their perfectly synchronized faces."On the contrary Abigail, we're having oodles of fun. And putting a final nail in your coffins will prove a most satisfying end to a perfect evening", they replied in a creepy, almost joyful monotone."OH please, just be lucky we're going easy on you. Why if I had my way, I could flatten you and that machine in three seconds flat...But I guess you probably already know that...wouldn't you", the curly haired girl asked, her tone as confident as it was arrogant, it even caused the middle Delightful boy tighten his grip upon the control sticks as she spoke."Has anyone every told you to keep your mouth shut", the children asked, their harmonious unison a tad bit angry, not that it mattered to the curly haired mutant."Well, I wold but it's not prohibited by law", she replied in a snarly tone, able to watch their enemy twitch with anger before allowing their faces to relax into evil smirks."Perhaps we can arrange that for you", the children said in sinister unison as they lifted the machine's left leg straight into the air, catching the attention of a concerned yet determined looking Abigail as she opened her mouth to speak."You take the left, I'll take the right", the stern second-in-command screeched to her friend."Hai", her friend screeched back, all the while muttering the Japanese word for "yes".Quickly, they shot off like bunnies, their timing couldn't have been any better as the mechanical arms came down to the spots they just recently stood in. The spunky black girl ran fast against the machine's right side as she took her shots, cursing as those shots merely grazed the legs and nothing more. The mutant brunette moved fast as well as she threw her telekinetic rings towards the machine, unable to dent the protective casing, but impactful enough to send the machine on a course to the ground. Unfortunately, it was on a collision course with a frightful looking Abigail.Lucky for her, she had zero time to cower as her hazel eyes stared in awe at their surprising amount of balance, only to find one of the legs being supported by the telekinetic ropes of of a struggling Alex. Seeing her opportunity, the braided beauty leapt atop the machine as she fired her dual GUMZOOKAs once more, only to stare and grimace before landing on her feet once more."Damnit! Not even a scratch", cursed the determined sounding Abigail."Well then what do we do now", asked the struggling Alex, unable to see her friends hazel eyes light up with assurance."Ooh, what indeed", she coolly replied, confusing the mutant girl before she took a glance towards the horizon.The ground began to shake as a figure ran in from the distance, its red eyes menacing yet determined in spite of its cute appearance. Why it was none other than HIPPIE-HOP itself, piloted by Kuki no less. The bunny grimaced, it growled even as it leapt into the air, landing with a great big thud as it clawed a big dent in the back of the machine's casing, catching the surprised attention of the Delightful Children in the cockpit."I told you I'd be back", replied sassy mixed tone of the little Asian girl and the mecha in harmonious unison, frightening the Delightfuls while sending a cringe worthy look to Alex's face as she let go of the machine."Okay, does that thing have a mind of its own", she asked, still rather shocked by what had just occurred."You seriously want an answer ta' that question", the cool girl asked as she watched her friend think the question over."You know, I don't think I do", she finally replied.The bunny gave another great roar before it hopped into the air, landing hard on top of the machine. Fortunately the Delightfuls came prepared this time as they grabbed the sides of the mecha with their arms, wasting no time to throw it far into the air. But luckily, Kuki was quick to land, wasting no time before charging towards the monstrous mecha once more. Quick to see this, the Delightfuls thrusted one of their arms towards the bunny, only to find it literally being ripped out of its socket by the bunny's powerful teething grip. What came next made the sassy girl's violet eyes widen as she saw another arms take the previous ones place, giving her no time to react before the machine grabbed her mecha, throwing into the ground with violent impact as it left a great big hole in the ground it collided with.Within the cockpit, Kuki could only feel herself groan, feeling the stiffness in her neck as her eyes made contact with the slightly damaged screens. Through one though, her violet eyes could only widen as she saw the Delightfuls approach her, their faces revelling in sinister intent. Though that panic in her eyes only became more prevalent as she found she could not start up her mecha. She begged, she even pleaded as she continually turned on the engine, but to no avail. For sure, she thought she was a goner. That is until she noticed a familiar looking plump figure land on top of the machine before taking a big leap off, surprising the step ford children before they came to realize what was going on."Hey guys, remember me", asked a delighted yet determined sounding Hoagie as he watched his enemies faces twitch with annoyance.Quickly, he began to fly almost as fast as lightning as he found the machine's mechanical arms begging to follow him. Though fortunately for him, he managed to catch the arms in time as he began to continually avoid at every turn. And surely enough, he saw his opponents were too late to realize that he had sent them into a lop around their own cockpit.Truthfully, the plump nerd could only give a hearty laugh to the sight. Too bad the next minute though, he found himself screaming as the mechanical arms came his way. Fortunately for him though, it was intercepted by Alex's guard shield, surprising both him and the Delightfuls in the process. Before they could react however, the mutant girl took control of the arm as she swiftly planted it into the ground. This gave the now present Wally enough time to leap onto the arm as he began to leap onto various parts of the machine, allowing his emerald eyes to shine with cockinessas he came closer towards his target. With one swift leap, he fired his towards the casing, only to feel a grumpy face settle in at the decently placed hole in the casing."Oh come on, that's all we can give ta' this thing", Wally loudly announced in a whiny tone as he landed on top of the still grounded arm."But I got a pretty good dent though", replied the cheerful sounding Kuki."Yeah, like that's all it's gonna take", he loudly explained, feeling surprised by the arms sudden movement before feeling the arms of his plump friend wrap around him, carrying him off in an instant."Numbuh 4's right; we need to crack that casing and fast", replied the more serious sounding Hoagie as he and his friend watched the machine pull its arms from out of the crater it was stuck in."Numbuh 2, you got the missiles ready right", asked the serious sounding Abigail he heard over his headset."Yeah, but we can't fire them now; we've barely scratched the surface", the plump boy explained in a somewhat panicky manner."Yeah, but that hole Numbuh 4 made was big enough, and we only got one shot ta' pull this off", she explained through the headset, unable to see the plump boy's expression softening before nodding his head."Roger that", Hoagie replied before letting Wally off onto the ground."Alex, get ready", cried the spunky black girl to her levitating friend."Hai", the mutant brunette screeched in reply, landing swiftly from the sky to the ground in a matter of seconds.Shortly after, she closed her eyes as her body became engulfed in pink energy, her hair even began to defy gravity. From where they sat, the Delightfuls watched with confusion on their faces; "just what is she doing?" the wondered. Unfortunately, this distraction gave them less time to react before they heard another loud roar; it was HIPPIE-HOP, fully fine and operational as its claws grabbed a hold of the machine itself. Realizing what had just happened, they struggled mercilessly to be free, giving both Abigail and Hoagie enough time to run across the sides again, only his time using their GUMZOOKAs to pin their arms to the ground rather than to destroy. Once they were finished, the spunky second-in-command gave a swift look towards her power charging mutant friend."Now", she screamed, giving her friend enough time to spin in a circle as the power began to move in synch with her graceful arm movements."Dividen Guard Shield up" screamed Alex as she flexed her arms out form side to side. In an instant, creating two giant shields of pink energy that reached as high as the night sky, protecting both sides of the neighbourhood block.In short, the step ford children were actually quite impressed with such a sight. Yet again, their concentration should have been focused on a cocky looking Wally, pulling out not one but two giant missiles out of literal hammer space which he aimed directly towards the towering mecha."Astalavista, baby", said the cocky sounding Wally as his fingers reached their respective triggers.With one swift pull of the trigger, this missiles were sent packing. Seconds later, they made their contact with their target of impact, allowing for a glorious explosion of fire to ensue just seconds after. Truly, it was glorious sight the now cheering friends, at least it would have been if the smoke hadn't pulled back to reveal an intact looking machine. Surely enough, the faces of Sector V could only twitch with horror while their opponents faces reverted to their usual sinister appearance."What", the five friends asked in surprised unison."How the heck is that even possible", asked the shocked yet angered sounding Aussie."On the contrary, did you really think that two measly missiles was all it would take to defeat us", the children asked as their sinister tones reached as far as their cold blue eyes.Sure enough, Abigail and her friends had very little time to react before they found themselves wrapped in the tight grip of the mechanical arms, feelings their bodies flying through mid-air before finding themselves cringing from the pain impact of the hard pavement grounds. Even Kuki had barely anytime to recover before she felt herself being lifted into the air, screaming her lungs out before HIPPIE-HOP hit the pavement. Yet even though all that remained of the great mecha was fire and smoke, the little Asian girl gave one last yelp before hitting the pavement after a forceful ejection, she even felt herself being blanked by a soft parachute as this occurred. Slowly yet surely did the quartet lift themselves at least to heir knees, giving them very little time before they looked to gaze at the mighty mecha once more.Have a nice trip Kids Next Dumb", the children said with cold malice, their opponents only able to watch in horror as they catapulted a giant fire beam towards them.Fortunately for them, Alex had appeared to have awaken from her "zen" state, her now pink tinted eyes opening to find her friends shocked faces at the sight of such a massive fireball heading in their direction. The image was enough to widen her eyes, but soon enough they cringed with anger as she dashed towards the small group, bringing the large walls of telekinetic energy to form a small shield as she blocked the large fireball with just seconds to spare. Yet despite the surprise forming in the Delightfuls eyes and the shock forming on her friends faces, she merely stood her ground, her pink eye snow fierce in their determination."Alex!...Alex, please be careful" cried the concerned sounding second-in-command."Daijoubu...", the mutant girl replied in serious, almost deadpan tone. "I'd rather watch these pests fry before they hurt-"Was all she could muster before she heard a sinister laugh echoing in her head; a familiar laugh which widened her pink tinted eyes, a laugh which made her cringe before she found herself being forced back by the ball's immense power, widened the quartet's collective eyes once more. Though her resistance proved strong, it proved futile as her mind became completely distracted, surprising her as she came to find herself being pushed away by the impact.Her friends however, shared her same surprised as they were dragged along for the ride, their screams loud yet varied as they felt their bodies being pushed further into the paved streets, only to stop upon feeling not only their bodies aching with stiffness and pain, but upon watching their mutant friend collapse to the ground in a heap. Yet despite their concern, she quickly rose to sit herself up, even as she grit her teeth while doing so."Well, well, how the mighty have fallen..." replied a familiar, sinister sounding tone the surprised group of friends looked up to gaze at; the sinister unisoned voices of the Delightful Children."Any last words", they asked in sinister yet perfect unison as they began to charge another fireball once more."Oh, I knew I should have told all my Rainbow Monkeys that I love them", cried the clearly upset sounding Kuki."Oh, I knew I should have finished watching Sailor Moon", cried the upset sounding Hoagie, his response one which not only made his friends turn with wide eyed curiosity, but also made him reply with a nervous chuckle."Actually, that was a slip up; what I meant to say was...Oh who am I kidding...I like Sailor Moon!""Oh, don't sweat it Hoagie-kun; I know plenty of guys who like Sailor Moon", Alex replied in a casual, yet reassuring tone."Really", he asked as if seeking reassurance."Oh yeah, they just don't want to admit it", she casually reassured him."Enough", the Delightful Children yelled as their tone made their enemies cringe, their cringe worthy faces remaining ever so as the sinister looking children aimed their cannon at the group once more. "You should have known you were no match for us without your leader."Yet the Delightfuls felt shock overcome them as they felt the monstrous machine stagger back at the sensation of a powerful gunshot, having very little time to react before they felt another overcome the behemoth. Though in all honesty, the five friends were just as surprised as their sworn enemies by such a lucky occurrence."I'd say they've done just fine on their own. If anything, I'm just surprised you decided to start a fight without me", replied a suave, familiar sounding tone.Though it didn't take the five friends long before their faces lit up with satisfaction at the reveal of their mysterious saviour; why it was none other Nigel himself, his cocky grin ever present as he stood valiantly before his friends and even his enemies."Numbuh 1", the four friends cried in delight."Nigel-kun" cried the mutant brunette in similar delight, their cries enough to catch the attention of the now unfrazzled Delightful Children."How unexpected to see you here Nigel...Did you have fun", the step fords asked in a monotone, almost mocking tone."I did have fun. But you know me; I couldn't possible resist a chance to kick your butts to kingdom come, especially as far as my teammates are concerned", the British boy replied as his cocky grin never faded for even a second."How sweet; maybe you'll be glad to know that we feel the same way", they replied in a sinister yet creepy monotone as they raised their foot high in the air above their target, wiping the smug grin off his face almost instantly.Nigel could feel himself yelping in a girlish tone as he moved out of the foot's way, allowing it to land with a thud as it formed yet another massive crater in the paved street. Quickly, he made a run for it. Unfortunately, this did nothing for his frightful expression as he felt a thunderous thud behind his every footstep, making him turn his head to only realize just how close his opponents were; just how was he suppose to defeat them?"Yo Boss, you got a plan", asked a familiar tone which made his navy eyes widen, only to turn and see a collected looking Abigail running right beside him."I don't know, it might be too risky for you guys to do anything in your current conditions", the bald boy explained."Ah don't worry about us Numbuh 1. Besides you should know we've been through worse", replied the optimistic tone the bald boy recognized as belonging to the pudgy boy running on his other side."I guess...but still, are you sure-""Yes! Now let's get this over with so we can go home home already", replied the annoyed sounding mutant girl, giving the the young boy all the assurance he needed as his face lit up with a confident grin."Alright then", he replied, stopping short only seconds later as his team followed suit."Kids Next Door; Hike Formation", he yelled as both he, and his team lowered themselves into football hike positions. "Go!"With that one word, they took off together in a glorious sprint, yet regardless of their speed their faces remained as fertile as ever in their determination. Truthfully, the Delightful Children were as confused as ever, not that it stopped them from merely sending yet another arm towards the sprinting children. Unfortunately for them, Nigel had anticipated such a move as he opened his mouth to speak."Two-Seventy-Three", he yelled."Hai", the mutant girl replied, jumping out of the arms way before landing safely onto it, her pink tinted eyes fierce in their determination. Quickly, he clapped her energy soaked hands to form a grand ball of energy."Six! Baruken Fusion", she yelled as she shot the energy beam towards the right leg, taking it out with one swift movement.Truthfully; this surprised the Delightful Children as they made a desperate attempt to balance themselves, only to be unaware of a determined looking Abigail sprinting their way."Five", she yelled as leaped into the air, a spunky grin clear on her face as she took out the other leg supporting the giant behemoth.The children screamed as they felt themselves beginning to fall towards the ground, only to find themselves surprised by their surprisingly cushy landing. A quick glance however could only make them cringe as they saw Wally, a cocky grin on his face as he held the cockpit in his hands."Four", he cried as he threw the machine into the air like a Frisbee, right towards a smiling Kuki the Delightfuls noticed."Three", she cheerfully chirped as she blasted the machine with a single shot form her THUMPER, causing the Delightfuls to scream once more as they felt the machine land not only on its side as it made contact with the paved street."Two", Hoagie cheerfully said as he walked on top of the machine as if it were a hamster wheel.Though it only took a few seconds before he hopped off the machine, letting it fall over flat shortly after. Soon after, the Delightfuls breathed a collective sigh as they wiped their foreheads in unison. Unfortunately, their faces were overcome by fear once more as they watched Nigel land on top of the machine. His grin was cocky, and his SCCAMPwas aimed directly at them."One", he said in a suave yet cocky manner as his finger began to pull the trigger back.With one swift pull of the trigger, it unleashed a powerful beam. A beam so powerful the step ford children could only scream as they felt themselves being forced back out of the cockpit. And even though they landed safely on the paved street, their faces reeked of of both fear, even disappointment as they turned to face their triumphant looking opponents."Remember this Delightful Children; if you ever want to get your butts kicked, you know where to find us", said the cocky sounding Nigel as his team chimed in with their own cocky grins."Nigel Uno", said a familiar voice that caught the attention of both groups; it was Monty, looking rather unsatisfied."Dad...What a surprise seeing you here", said a nervous sounding Nigel, he even chuckled a little."Phew! Talk about goin' out with a bang; I'm bushed", said a satisfied Wally, stretching his arms as he walked up the spiral stairs."I know what you mean, I feel like going to bed already", replied the exhausted sounding Kuki."Personally, I feel like taking a nice, hit bath", replied an exhausted yet happy sounding Hoagie."I hear on that one Hoagie-kun", replied the blunt sounding Alex as Abigail followed behind her, stopping short only a few seconds later."Oh come on man, it could've been worse; fo' all you know, he could have grounded you", the motherly girl tried to explain to Nigel as he came up the stairs with a mopey looking expression."All I wanted was a peaceful day with my dad...That's all I wanted! Was that so wrong", Nigel asked in a sorrowful yet exasperated tone."Yeah yeah, and I want someone to translate Rainbow Parakeet so I can finally read the damn thing. Doesn't mean it's going to happen",the mutant girl replied in a rather snarly tone as her British friend gave her a mere death glare."Would you mind if we postponed this discussion for another time", he asked as he kept his irritated tone at bay."Fine by me", she casually replied as the motherly black girl eyed her suspiciously."You sure seem pretty chipper now", the braided beauty replied rather suspiciously, catching her friend's attention shortly after."Yeah well; you win some, you lose some", Alex replied rather optimistically as her she watched her friend's face relax with a grin."I guess", she coolly said."Yes, now if you excuse me, I think I'm going to go and relax with a nice cup of hot-"Was all Nigel could say before feeling his navy eyes widen with surprise; swarms of texture, colour, even aromas filled the area. In fact, it even livened the room's atmosphere as far as his shocked disposition was concerned."Wha...What is all this", asked the astonished sounding Nigel."Oh yeah...Surprise", both Kuki and Alex chimed in cheerful unison despite the disbelieving expression forming on their bald friend's face."Uh, you guys DO realize that my birthday's not for another few months right", he asked in a rather suspicious tone."Yeah, but we figured ya' might want some good memories of today boss", explained the spunky black girl as she put her arm around her astonished friend's neck."Yeah, then that way you'll know you're never alone", the little Asian explained with a cheerful tone and a sweet smile."Yeah", replied a sweet sounding Hoagie as he put a hand to his bald friend's shoulder. And though his navy eyes remained ever surprised, the young boy couldn't help but to muster up a smile."Thanks guys...I really appreciate this...", replied a sincere sounding Nigel, his navy eyes even began to soften as they revealed his sincerity to his smiling teammates."Well, that's good ta' know...Now, how's about some of that cake. I call first dibs of course", replied the cocky sounding Aussie as he made his way towards the buffet table."Ah come on Numbuh 4, it's Numbuh 1's party, he should get to "cut", the tension", the plump nerd cheerfully replied, even laughing a little at his own joke."Ah, save the puns for later Sailor Boy", the short Aussie replied in a mocking manner."Hey, no fair", replied an annoyed sounding Hoagie."Oh, I forgot, so who's your favourite Sailor Scout Numbuh 2", asked a curious Kuki."Oh, that's easy; Sailor Mer-""It's Sailor Soldier", cried the mutant brunette.Though really, seeing such a sight was all it took before started to laugh alongside his friends as they made their way towards the buffet table. Their laughter, even their squabbling enough to light up the night sky.End Transmission
11334522	Mind The Fauna	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Ardyn Izunia, Ignis Scientia", "Fandom": "Final Fantasy XV", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Oronir_Caragai", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-28T00:00:00", "words": "1,146", "Additional Tags": "Tentacle Sex, Tentacle fondling, Drabble", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Ardyn Izunia/Tentacles, Ignis Scientia/Tentacles", "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 }	Ignis quickened his pace to move away fromthe chancellor. "Ardyn, would you cease following me!" Ardyn hopped his next few steps, trying to close the gap between himself and Ignis. The Vesperpool's muddy environment sucked at the soles of his boots, trying to keep him at every step. "Ignis, I am only trying to warn you about the--"He saw Ignis get yanked suddenly away by the ankle, making a startled noise as he fell. "Fauna..."Ardyn felt the tentacles around his ankles, and silently cursed how handsome Ignis was. Almost any other person he would have let get taken, and go on his merry way. He let himself get dragged down, a tentacle around each ankle. He hugged his arms to his chest in an effort to reduce injury to them as he was dragged forcefully away. By the time he was upright again, further tentacles now feeling their way around him, wrapping around his wrists, his waist, his thighs; Ignis was already held in a similar predicament, wrists held apart by individual tentacles, legs the same. He has called a dagger in each hand, vainly trying to slice back at the creature.A tentacle slid it's way over his neck, slipping down past his collar and into his shirt. "Ah! What...Ardyn! What is this?!" Ignis called to him, obviously concerned."Hush, Ignis. Let it do what it will." "What it will?!" The tentacle probed further down his shirt. The topmost buttons stood no chance against the tentacle's protrusion, and popped off. "The more you fight, the more it will see you a challenge." Ardyn kept his voice quiet, even tempered. He felt a tentacle, wet with mucus, push past his pants. It began to probe at the entrance of his ass. "Always there...ugh..." Ardyn tried to relax himself. He kept an eye on Ignis' predicament."Ardyn! What is the beast's intention?"Ardyn replied, voice raised slightly to be heard over the din of the beasts."Best I have come to know, they make their prey orgasm, then eat them.""They -what?- Mmph!" The beast probed into Ignis' mouth with a tentacle. "I -warned- you to keep your voice quiet. Do try not to struggle, their tentacles contain a paralytic toxin."He watched Ignis' eyes widen behind his glasses, slightly askew from the tentacle sliding around his face to gain access to his mouth. He watched them close, hard. The tentacle must have expelled the toxin. He reminisced momentarily about the sickly sweet taste, like sour rot. The daggers disappeared from Ignis' hands as they went limp in the tentacle's grips. Ardyn knew the feeling well, having succumbed to the toxin many times before. It made his limbs heavy, betray his commands. Ignis was strong, but he was no match for the fluid paralyzing his limbs, forcing him to allow the tentacles their goal.Ardyn watched as skinnier, agile tentacles worked their way past Ignis' belt, popping it open, He watched Ignis' face flush, his eyes worried. Ardyn could see the tentacles in the front of Ignis' pants, writhing over his dick.As pleasurable as the sight would have been by itself, it was made more so by the tentacle pressing inside of him finding his prostate. He made a quiet, pleasured noise as the digit wiggled against it. "O-oh...you beasts always know the best spot..." Ardyn felt his dick pressing against the front of his trousers. The tentacles felt it too. They wasted no time in coiling additional of their number around him. Thick tentacles found their way around his thighs. They spread his legs as far as they would go. Thin, vine like tentacles pressed their way into his trousers; Easy with them being propped up by the larger tentacle in his ass. He gasped as the thinner tentacles wrapped around his shaft, the mucus coating them acting as a lubricant."Hnn...that's new...Aah..." He watched Ignis as the tentacles stroked his shaft. The advisor's eyes now shut tight as the creature toyed with him, head barely held up. Ardyn watched Ignis' chest heave. Sweat coat his face, and the exposed skin on his chest.He saw the Ignis' eyes open again, a pleading concern conveyed through them. Saliva trickled down the side of his mouth as he choked on the probing tentacle. Ardyn watched his eyes roll back, and heard a pleasured scream, muffled by the tentacle. If the scream hadn't been enough indication, the rapidly growing wetness on the front of Ignis' trousers would be. The tentacles slowly slipped from his trousers, and Ardyn could see them coated in Ignis' semen, glistening slightly in the light. He felt his own orgasm creeping close, between the agile little vines working his shaft, and the damnable one pressing against his prostate. He didn't try to fight it, instead purring quietly as it came, and he felt the stickiness against the front of his own trousers. The tentacles dropped Ignis to the ground, knocking his glasses from his face.The creatures revealed themselves in full size as the tentacles dropped Ardyn to the ground. Malboros, by Ardyn's knowledge, only half grown at roughly twelve feet tall, loomed in front of the two men. Ignis looked to the beasts, barely able to turn his head to do so. He lacked the strength to turn it back to look to Ardyn. "I've had quite enough of your games. He isn't your snack tonight."Ignis didn't see what Ardyn did, only saw bright, purple flames engulf the two creatures. The creatures let out a piercing cry, and collapsed into the swamp, sizzling vines and the smell of smoky toxin hanging in the air. Ardyn walked slowly to Ignis. He picked up his glasses, and wiped them off on his shirt tail. "I presume you haven't come across one of those? Terrible beasts, I'm afraid. Hence my trying to warn you..." Ignis felt hands beneath him scoop him up. His head lulled over into Ardyn's chest as the chancellor carried him back to land. "You're perfectly safe now." He sat, resting Ignis' upper half against his lap. He fished an antidote from the pouch on his leg, and placed it to Ignis' lips. Ignis felt the warm liquid slide down his throat."Give that a moment to work." Ardyn watched as Ignis slowly regained control of his limbs. The second he did, he shoved away from Ardyn's lap. "What? No gratitude?" Ardyn grinned, voice dripping with smarm."I wouldn't have even been down here had you not been pursuing me. So no, Ardyn. I'll not thank you for getting me fondled by a monster." Ignis stormed away, and Ardyn watched him leave with a smile. "Suit yourself, dear...perhaps I can find another of those beasts wandering around to entertain me."Ardyn grinned toward the swampy water, and watched for any errant tentacles.
11332932	Amor Perros	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by La Tigre [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2001-07-10T00:00:00", "words": "2,813", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Any LGM/Other", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement", "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 }	Amor Perros by Lady JaguarYou asked for it; you got it. :) This'll have to hold you for another two months, I think.TITLE: Amor Perros BY: Lady Jaguar DISTRIBUTION: RATING: R SPOILERS: post "Tango de los Pistoleros" SUMMARY: F/B/L/O NOTA BENE: Strange Spots Universe. The title is Spanish for "Dogs' love"; Mexican slang for "Savage love". DISCLAIMER: Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox own the Gunmen, not me. They'd hang me if they caught me writing this stuff. BETA: None. Blame everything on me. FEEDBACK: Encourages bad habits. I step into our hotel room, reeking of smoke, sex, and smug satisfaction. It has been years since I made love to a woman; since I thrust myself into the slick warmth of a woman's body, and I am high on the feeling; high on the memory. Tonight, we made love, AnaMaria and I. We have made love every night and every afternoon since I walked into her laundry. Byers looks up as I enter, his smile giving away nothing about his feelings. "How did it go?"By way of answer, I flop on the bed, grinning at the ceiling. "Ayyyyiiiiieeeee... I think I'm going to die." "A happy death." His chuckle is soft and doesn't sound at all forced. I glance across the room at him. His back is toward me as he carefully packs his suitcase; the broad dark expanse of his suit coat revealing nothing. I glance toward the bathroom."Where's Langly?""In the other room. With Jimmy and Kimmy. A game of some kind."I hear it now; the short choppy sentences that betray his pain. Guilt stabs me and I rise from the bed, put a hand on his shoulder. "John...?""We'll be fine," he says, without looking up. "Langly's avoiding thinking about this right now. We're both happy for you, really. It's a chance..."The silence fills in the rest -- a chance for a normal heterosexual relationship. A chance that none of us thought we would ever have as we drifted into our ... whatever we have become. Sometimes I think our relationship is a Gordian Knot more than anything else; too complex to undo except by cutting through pieces of all of us at once. And my decision to stay in Little Havana with LaHabanera is a cruel cut for us all."Hey, we always wanted a branch office," I joke. "Today, Miami --tomorrow, Uzbekistan." The words fall flat. The shoulder underneath my hand is hard and tense and Byers will not turn to face me. I turn away from him, giving him space to grieve. I am grieving, too. Why does taking the right path feel so wrong?"I'm gonna take a shower and then finish packing," I announce, stripping off my gloves and unbuttoning my vest. Leather in Miami is a madness, but certain things are expected of El Lobo. Dying of heat exhaustion might bcome one of the traits of El Lobo, unless I can convince myself to wear something other than leather. Black leather is a part of what made the legendary El Lobo; a trace of the old machismo from the days when the Pack and I policed the barrio. We were warriors then without a clue of what justice was and our black leather and black berets made us look much taller and much more dangerous. In an era when non-whites were beaten for trying to vote, few white men tried to pick on anyone that the Pack guarded. And no one, man or woman, tried to cross La Habanera more than once. I look down at my chest, at the red stripes her fingernails left after our argument today. No, you don't cross my little Pepper more than once.I hunt in John's shaving kit for the aloe vera gel and use it to treat the red marks, soothing it over the fresh scratches and the bruise from her kick during our first discussion. Living with AnaMaria always was an exciting situation. I step under the shower, humming to myself, anticipating.####John isn't in the room when I finish with my shower, and I hesitate for a moment over packing. It would be easier just to throw everything into my suitcase and duffel bag and vanish from the room without saying goodbye. I'm not sure I can look into Ringo's eyes and say that final goodbye -- and yet, it's pretty cowardly to walk out on a close relationship without some sort of closure.I finally settle for writing a note to each of them, telling myself I will email them and do... do something. I don't know what. It's so hard to say what I feel, because I'm not really sure what it is that I feel. Underneath the elation of finding the right woman, there's a sort of horrible hollow sensation as though a part of me is off somewhere, crying. But El Lobo doesn't cry. It's not macho. I shoulder my duffel bag and collect my suitcase and head downstairs to flag down a cab.AnaMaria lives in a fairly good section of what used to be the barrio -- and probably still is the barrio, though such old segregated notions are supposed to have been shelved twenty years ago. There's a cultural and economic difference between the Latinos and the Anglos here in Miami. It blurs a little in the suburbs, where white collar workers buy little cloned houses and live clumped in monotonous housing developments, but here in the heart of Little Havana, the differences stand out. The working poor live here, in conditions as unpromising as our own headquarters. After thirty years of work and effort, niether La Habanera nor I have ever managed to make our dreams come true. It reminds me of that old song by somebody or another about the cab driver and the rich woman -- she didn't go on to be a famous dancer and movie star, and sometimes I think I could make more money and more of an impact driving a cab than I can as a publisher. My gloomy musings end when I knock on AnaMaria's door and am greeted by an armful of enthusiastic redhead. She steals my breath with her kisses, dragging me inside her small apartment, clawing at my belt with her long fingernails. I strip the dress from her shoulders and her skin feels like sun-warmed satin to my touch. She tastes salty sweet, and I'm not sure how we can be so hungry for each other after just a few hours rest. Our clothes don't make it as far as the bedroom.She's slick with sweat as I slide down her naked body, suckling at the pointed brown nipples that rise above her firm breasts, lapping my tongue at the hollow of her navel. I taste faint traces of our early lovemaking on her skin, and that arouses me more. I taste her womanhood, flicking my tongue in and out of her secret places till I taste and feel the wetness of her arousal. Then, with a swift move, I slide forward and cover her, driving into her wet heat until there is nothing in my universe but the feel of her body wrapped around me and our heat and passion. I fill her with my seed, pumping myself into her willing body. We pull apart, panting, and she snuggles up to me in the curve of my arm, tracing little circles in the hair on my chest.I stare at the ceiling, thinking I should be feeling triumphant and wondering why there's this little echo of pain inside me. The dull tiles of the ceiling remind me of the cheezy hotel where we're staying -- where I was staying. Where John and Ringo are staying. I wonder if they've found the notes yet. Maybe I should email them from a cybercafe. There's bound to be one around here.AnaMaria watches me. "You look serious," she says after awhile. "What are you thinking?""Thinking about my amigos. Wondering what they're doing," I answer. Her lips twist. "Them? Not worth thinking about. Think about me." She bites at my earlobe.I sigh and cuddle her closer, and say nothing. It's a bad move. She sits up, looking indignant. The Lone Slasher: http://www.slashaholics.org/lgm/"Look. You don't ..." she says something I don't understand. I frown. "You don't need them," she explains more slowly. Words of one syllable for the clueless gringo, I think to myself. "They are not your lovers. Me, I am your lover."Ooohboy. Let's not go there, sweetheart. There's a whole big can of worms you don't want to find out about. "Drop it," I answer, sitting up. I think I need to get away from this conversation. I reach for my underwear. "I think I'm going to go get some cigarettes." I haven't smoked in over 25 years, but I'm suddenly getting the urge for coffin nails. She reaches for my arm."They are NOT your lovers," she insists, her eyes glittering."The blonde guy. He's such a ...." she uses a word I've never heard before, but I'm pretty sure from the context that it's a pretty nasty slur."Don't say that about my friend," I snap at her. My still-rusty Spanish isn't good enough to frame a more complex argument. I shuck on my pants, thrust my arms into my shirt, buttoning it carelessly."Did you like sex with pretty boys? Does he sell himself on the corners for you?" she sneers."Shut UPt!" Anger isn't helping my verbal skills at all or my coordination at tying my shoelaces."Oooh. You couldn't find any woman who was woman enough for you, so he ..." I can't translate the slang, but her meaning is clear as she half-turns away from me and waggles her buttocks at me. With a growl, I push off the bed and grab my coat and hat."You're not leaving!" she says -- not a plea, but a challenge."Hell, yes. I'm going for cigarettes. And if I want to go for cigarettes, I'll go for fucking cigarettes! And you, woman, have nothing to say about it!" We're almost nose-to-nose now. Machismo versus machisma; Mars versus Venus. She bares her teeth in an expression that's half-grin and half-snarl."Cigarettes?? Ha! You haven't smoked in thirty years! You told me so yourself! You're sneaking off to call your whore friend, aren't you? What's the matter, El Lobo? I'm too much woman for you? We'll change your name to El PuppyDog.""It is NONE of your business where I'm going, woman!" Now there's a well-practiced phrase and one I can recite in my sleep. I sound like a fucking Neanderthal."You think you can treat me like that?" She swings her hand at me, raking her ring across my cheek. "THAT for your whore friend!" she hisses. I snarl and grab her wrist, yanking at her arm. "Don't DO that!" "YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU WEAK LITTLE WORM!!!" she screams and slaps me with her other hand.Rage burns like acid in my stomach. "FUCK YOU!" I roar and shove her away. She pulls back, panting, swearing, fingers curved into hooked claws, lunges at me again. I push her back and she spits at me and hooks those blood-red nails at my face. I barely get my arms up in time."I will BREAK that freak whore of yours!" she screams, diving for the kitchen. I grab her arm, yanking her away from the knife drawer. She swings at me again and this time my fist comes up, aimed at her face. She pauses, panting."Do it!!!" she hisses at me. "Show me what a man you are!"It's an old taunt; the one she used when we were young and I would do anything to defend my manly image. But anger doesn't burn hot in this decade of life-- it's something cold and a bit more deadly than the rage of youth. I shove my fisted hands into my coat pockets to keep from punching her.Something touches my knuckles. I pull it out, turning it over in my hands, focusing on it to calm the anger surging through my system. It's the bottle of aloe vera gel from John's shaving kit. I must have absentmindedly pocketed it when I was packing up. I stare at it for a moment, feeling oddly lost and lonely, tuning out AnaMaria's shrieks and venom. It's a mistake, because I'm jarred again as she takes another swing at my face. My glasses go flying and I finally lose my last shred of self-control and slap her --hard. She tumbles back onto the bed and her mood changes dramatically. "How could you do such a thing?" she whimpers, her hand cradling her cheek. "El Lobo, I am your woman. You wouldn't beat me, would you? You wouldn't leave me, would you? You know I don't mean it. You know I am scared I will lose you." Her eyes are large and soft and glitter with tears. Her nipples are hard little peaks, stiff with desire. We're locked in a game of hurt-and-comfort; the game that ends with my forgiving her and a session of wild, passionate sex fueled by hormones and adrenaline surges. I hurt you, you hurt me, we're a dysfunctional family... the words march through my head. Disgusted, I turn my back without answering her and locate my glasses. The mirror shows another red mark on my cheek. I open the bottle of gel and smooth it on. The scent reminds me of John and Ringo."Honey, I didn't mean it," she whimpers. "I was jealous."It's the words of her decades-old mating call. "Honey, I'm sorry" means that the fight is over and now I am to comfort her.I feel empty and nauseous and manipulated. I stare at the tube of aloe gel, tracing the lettering with a finger. Home. I want to go home to the two people who matter most to me. I don't need cigarettes. Fuck the heterosexual life. I need my lovers. No matter how bad things got with the three of us, we never played torture-comfort games. But with AnaMaria, there's a long history of this type of loving. Even thirty years agg, she needed the excitement of a fight to get fully aroused. Tonight, she craved that argument like a smoker craves another cigarette. If I hadn't snapped at her remark, she'd have found something else to sneer at until I broke down and roared at her. Breakup-to-makeup is the only sex game in town for La Habanera and her lover.Well, guess what, baby. Mel ain't playing this game any longer.I take a deep breath, turn, and hand the bottle to her. "I'm sorry I hurt you," I say mildly, and she gapes in astonishment. "I'm leaving now. I need to sleep before the quys and I drive to Virginia tomorrow." I pick up my duffel bag and suitcase . Her eyes are wide with shock. "Adios," I say as I close the door behind me.Her screams of rage can be heard clear out into the streets. I take the black fedora from my duffel bag and send it skimming across the road, to land on the sidewalk beyond. El Lobo is dead. Long live El Lobo.#########The only ones who don't seem surprised to find me at the van in the morning are Kimmy (who hasn't been hit by the clue bus yet) and Jimmy. Before I can protest, he bounds over and sweeps me into a hug and mumbles into my ear, "I just KNEW you'd be back." "Jimmy, we don't do hugs," I growl at him, more out of habit than anything else. He backs off, grinning, and tosses his gear into the van as Ringo and John arrive. I answer their unspoken questions with a brief lie about having had an early breakfast. I can see Byers' shoulders ease and Langly's tightly wary expression relax as I start talking about Headquarters and the next issue and formats and layouts. Yeah, buddy, I'm back. This may be the craziest, most un-sanctioned relationship on the face of the planet, but it's a lot saner than some of the others I've been in. Melvin's home to stay.Kimmy makes some sort of wise-ass comment about hot times and I give him an equally stupid and testosterone-laden retort. I swipe the keys from Byer's hand, and ease myself into the drivers' seat. At one time I aspired to Hugh Hefner's throne -- the girls, the print empire, the works. But today, I'm looking forward to being Melvin Frohike and seeing Miami in the rearview mirror. ############### end ##########(maybe I shoulda put a warning there about "potty mouth", too.)The Lone Slasher: http://www.slashaholics.org/lgm/ Archived: July 04, 2001
11318664	sunrise	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku", "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 wovenstarlight", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-27T00:00:00", "words": "2,082", "Additional Tags": "5+1 Things, Fluff, Don't copy to another site", "Relationship": "Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Todoroki/Deku, It's your power— isn't it!?!", "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 }	1.shouto's been at yuuei for a week now, but he doesn't really talk to his classmates much. half of it's because he doesn't see the need—he knows what he's here for, and he can't have other duties getting him off track—and half of it's because he doesn't know what to make of the others.this is very likely why, when midoriya izuku's idly waving hand bumps into him one morning, his only response is to stare blankly at his classmate."ah—todoroki-kun!" midoriya yelps. he's kind of like a startled puppy. "i didn't see you there, um, sorry!"shouto blinks twice. slowly."um. that's not how i usually begin conversations." midoriya glances around rapidly, then looks back at him and tries, "good morning?"shouto opens his mouth. hesitates."hello," he replies, nods, and moves towards his seat.(was that the right thing to say?) 2.shouto doesn't remember falling asleep or waking up, but he does remember staring out the window at the sunrise. if he listens closely, he can hear footsteps and gentle voices outside their hospital room, but inside, everything has a quiet stillness to it. the near-inaudible hum of the air conditioning. the rustle of bedsheets and blankets as bodies shift. iida's breathing, slow and regular, across from him—only iida?shouto turns his head and sees midoriya lying on his side, facing him. his eyes are focused on shouto's face, and midoriya looks... tired. there's something about the curl of his body, the set of his mouth, that says he's gone through a lot recently.it's not a particularly difficult emotion to recognize, seeing as how he saw it on all three of their faces yesterday. battling stain was an experience shouto personally would not like to repeat, he thinks, the injuries on his arm throbbing and making themselves known.he redirects his attention and blinks at midoriya, a wordless greeting in the still morning. midoriya, though, has never tried to keep himself quiet."good morning," he says, in a way that doesn't break the silence so much as gently nudge at it.shouto doesn't reply. midoriya doesn't say anything else. they lie there quietly, watching the world outside and listening as the hospital wakes up, and wait. 3.people think that todoroki shouto is a model teenager. he gets up on time, trains hard, puts effort into his studies, and strives to achieve his goals.the last three of those are true. shouto wishes hell upon the person who made everybody believe the first.dorms are wonderful in that there is an unlimited supply of (his classmates') snacks stored in the kitchen, shouto thinks grumpily, but he does not appreciate feet pounding through the hallways and laughter ringing through his door when he is trying to sleep thank you very much.he lies there for maybe another half hour. then bakugou screams something in front of sero's room, and shouto whines into his pillow exactly once before getting up.bakugou (who is lurking in front of sero's door with kirishima at his side) is easily avoided by wearing a jacket with the hood up, and the heat from the jacket absentmindedly negated by application of his quirk. he almost falls asleep again in the elevator, but kaminari joining him on the third floor wakes him up pretty quick (why oh why are all of bakugou's friends so loud...).the second the elevator reaches the ground floor and the doors open, shouto is hit with a wall of noise. he pulls the hood a little lower over his head and makes a beeline for the bathroom, patting at his pockets to make sure he grabbed his toothbrush.it's blissfully quiet once he gets inside, and he allows himself a tiny sigh before heading for the sinks. the chhk-chhk noise of brushing teeth is what alerts him to the presence of someone else (please don't let it be a stray bakugou friend)—ah, no, it's midoriya. that's fine, then. he walks over, gives midoriya a little wave, and sets about washing up.he's halfway through brushing his teeth when midoriya finishes up and says, "hey, uraraka-san and i were thinking of having a star wars marathon. you wanna come watch with us?"unfortunately, shouto is still half asleep and also has a mouth filled with foam. he attempts to ask midoriya to repeat what he said and ends up with drips of foam on his shirt and the mirror, while he stares in desolation at his reflection.midoriya—the absolute traitor, shouto can't believe this—starts laughing. as shouto carefully wipes his shirt off and spits in the sink, he's attempting to control his cackling but it just makes it worse.well. he might as well finish up. he continues brushing. by the time he's done, midoriya has calmed down."are you awake now?" he asks, a silly smile on his face."yes," says shouto a touch distrustfully."good morning, then. come to the lounge, iida-kun's making pancakes for everyone." and with that, midoriya skips out of the bathroom.well, okay, then. 4.shouto feels. heavy.there's really no other way to describe it. his thinking is slow and dull, his body is refusing to move, and it takes everything he has to just... regulate his breathing. something as simple as that, and it's taking all of his attention.is he scared? he doesn't know, but that seems likely. he graduated from yuuei yesterday, along with the rest of his class. he's not worried about his future: his father has given him enough tips for him to know how to navigate the years ahead. it's his—it's still jarring, after three years, to use the term friends. it's still a new concept, and he's only just gotten the hang of having them around after three years. and now... what now? they won't see each other everyday. some of them won't be in the same prefecture—hell, hagakure's going overseas, and who knows who'll follow her? will the others still talk to him? how? will they drift apart because they don't see each other? will they leave now that they have the chance? will they—his phone buzzes.shouto blinks.bzzt, his phone goes insistently.he focuses his attention, takes a deep breath, and... okay, he's rolled onto his side. his phone is only about a foot away from the head of his bed, it shouldn't be too difficult to grab it.it still takes him a full 90 seconds to pick it up and bring it close to his face.he turns it on and squints at the screen. from: midoriya good morning todoroki kun! :D from: midoriya are you awake?? a tiny smile is pulling at his lips.his next breaths come easier. to: midoriya i'm here. 5.shouto has never been very good at handling his emotions. he wouldn't mind taking so long to learn how to deal with them if his inability to control them hadn't landed him here.here happens to be sitting in a chair next to a hospital bed, watching midoriya izuku breathe through an oxygen mask, his eyes closed, a cast on his leg and bandages disappearing under his collar.momo came by last night and talked to him. he doesn't know exactly what happened—just that izuku had appeared out of the crumbling building with a distressed child on his back, and someone ran up to him and took the child, and shouto had called out "deku!", and izuku had glanced towards him and smiled and god that smile—and then izuku was. on the ground. there was rubble. there was blood. shouto thinks he screamed.momo assured him it wasn't his fault. shouto didn't have the energy to tell her she was wrong.he looked up, before, when he was back at the site. he saw where the rubble fell from. if he'd been paying attention, he could've noticed it before, but he didn't see it coming, and all because-shouto's holding izuku's hand. he's not sure when that happened. maybe he should loosen his grip a bit before he cuts off izuku's circulation.(it won't matter if his circulation is cut off if his heart stops, and the doctor said that they couldn't be sure—)the only sound in the room for the next few hours is the breathing of the two men. — —— he wakes up to a faceful of hospital blanket, the scent uncomfortably familiar, and a hand running through his hair.it takes him a minute to realize, and when he does—he raises his head and turns his head and there he is, eyes open and watching him with a tired affection in them, a faint smile under that oxygen mask, that special smile shouto only ever sees when he's been particularly open—"good morning," izuku breathes softly, and shouto cries. 1.izuku is notorious for getting up at unholy hours and greeting every late riser with a smile. more often than not, shouto is one of those late risers.but this morning is different. shouto opens his eyes to see izuku lying across from him, his eyes closed and hands curled close to his face. the scars on his arm stand out even in the dim light of dawn. shouto lightly curls his hand around one of izuku's and watches, amused, as the other mumbles something and twists a little closer to him. his curly hair, a dark green in this lighting, tangles even worse as izuku shifts around.he's going to have absolutely horrific bedhead when he wakes up, which is not really a fun thing to wake up to, but he's too cute like this to wake him up. shouto waits for a few hours, content to stay in his soft warm bed as the sun rises, and watches izuku with a smile on his face.he keeps mumbling broken fragments of sentences. even asleep, he thinks so much and has so much to tell the world. that's one of shouto's favourite things about him—he willingly fills the spaces in their conversations that shouto's too scared to. his voice is lively, too, spilling all his feelings into the world for everyone to see, washing over shouto and filling him with warmth and happiness. he could listen to izuku talk for hours.he won't have to wait much longer, because izuku is starting to stir. he frowns, eyes closed, at their linked hands, and huffs a warm breath over them."hey there," shouto whispers. izuku raises his head and opens his eyes, staring blearily at him."oh," he says. and there's that smile that shouto adores, spreading wide over his face until he's grinning at shouto, so bright shouto can barely look at him."good morning, izuku," shouto tells him. izuku giggles, a little overwhelmed, and squirms until his head is tucked against shouto's collar."it's a good morning, alright." izuku goes to wrap his arms around shouto and hesitates when light glints off the ring on his left hand."something wrong?""we forgot to take off our rings," izuku tells shouto a little anxiously. "they'll get damaged.""if i ever have to take off my ring," shouto replies, "my heart will get damaged."izuku lets out a shriek of laughter— "you sap—" and shoves at him. he rolls over onto his back, laughing, and tugs at izuku's arm until he's tucked against shouto's side."we should really get up, you know," izuku mumbles into his shirt, pulling shouto's arm around him.shouto squints down at his husband. "izuku, we got married yesterday. i think we're allowed a day in bed."he can feel izuku smiling into his shirt. it's rare that shouto is willing to get out of bed on regular days, and they took a day off from their jobs, so the chances of him moving are close to none."we can't tell them we spent a day in bed, though," izuku points out. "they'll all take it the wrong way."shouto rolls his eyes. "how they take it isn't important." he cranes his neck and plants a messy kiss on top of izuku's head. "it's our life, isn't it?"izuku hums in response, already closing his eyes. shouto smiles and puts his head back down, raising his hand to look at it. the sun glints off the golden ring on his finger.the two of them lie there well into the afternoon, warm, content, and finally home.
11346180	Crossing Paths	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Carla Jane [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "1999-09-30T00:00:00", "words": "39,603", "Additional Tags": "Crossover", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement", "Fandoms": "Once a Thief (TV), The X-Files", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Crossing Paths by Carla Jane29 October 1998Title: Crossing Paths Author: Carla Jane Address: Rating: I'd say 'nc17' for language and foreplay. Slash ...Krycek/Mac, with suggestions of a few other (m/m, f/f & m/f) romances too. Date: finished in October of 1998 Spoilers: A bit of movie spoilage and Alex's little problem from Terma, of course. Summary: X-files/Once a thief crossover. (NOTE: Nick Lea played Victor on that show) There's a kidnapping or two, during which Krycek's new friends cross paths with Mulder and Scully. Some roughhousing and jealous grinding of teeth ensues...then relationship stuff. Disclaimers: Chris Carter, Fox, John Woo, Alliance entertainment, and the various actors and writers own everything...no profit...etcetera, etcetera. You know the routine by now. Notes: Let's paint a picture...The trio of runaway shadow-government agents from 'Once a thief' (Li Ann, Mac, and Victor) have a house and a business in Atlantic City, courtesy of Alex and his rather powerful crime family. Alex lives with them, and sleeps with Mac...on and off. This follows my other story 'Re-established contact' which followed my 'Hong Kong' stories but you don't need to read those to understand this one. Victor and Alex are twins, separated at birth (an old stand-by, but useful) by a Russian spy network and recently reacquainted. Crossing Paths, part 1 By Carla Jane Autumn, 1998Victor had been tracking his kid sister's progress by phone and computer since the moment his twin, Alex, sent word she was headed their way. Victor confirmed that she got onto her flight in India. He knew her arrival time and he also made sure that she checked in to her hotel room in New York. That's where the group was gathering. The 'Leadership Corp' had chartered a bus to take twenty shining examples of their work to Washington, D.C. in an attempt to show how worthwhile a cause their organisation was to fund. Each one of the teens were confirmed boarding the bus on the New York representative's log, which he promptly e-mailed ahead, to an account Victor had already hacked in to. As soon as Alice arrived at the hotel in Arlington Victor intended to discreetly contact her. He knew the hotel, the room number, and her future phone extension already. Somewhere before Baltimore on I-95 everything went to hell.Victor had hauled his partners, Mac and Li Ann, out of a meeting with a high profile client in a state just short of panic to help him try and figure out what was going on. Between the three of them they turned up some garbled police radio reports, the fact that the FBI had been called in, and a location of the hospital the 'survivors' were being taken to. There were, strangely enough, no accident reports on the radio, just a slight traffic slow up being reported.So despite repeated warnings from Alex about keeping Victor extremely low profile where the Feds and the police were concerned, they drove right into the middle of an investigation."At least stay in the car, Victor." Li Ann argued reasonably. "Mac and I will go into the hospital. We'll find out what happened." She promised. "They said 'survivors'..." Victor had demanded the right to drive. He had to do something."Take it easy." Mac reached forward to brush his hand down the shoulder of Victor's battered leather jacket. "She's most likely in there raising trouble with the nurses right now." He guessed. "Then all we'll have to do is haul her out and everything will be fine."They were approaching the hospital now."We'll be back out as soon as we get details." Li Ann said. "You need to stay out of sight Victor. Alex would freak if he found out how close to D.C. you are. You're fingerprints might get you out of jail...but we don't have time for that right now." Li Ann popped her seatbelt. "Park in the first level of the garage as near the door as you can get...and wait for us.""Wait...crap." His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "I need to do more." He argued."Then try Alex's cell phone again. He should be landing soon." Mac slid over to the passenger side as the car pulled up to the curb by the main doors of the hospital. "You've got to trust us, Victor." He soothed. "Be ready to leave quickly. We may have to swipe some classified stuff...or remove someone quickly." Mac shoved the door open and awkwardly unfolded his long frame from the back seat.Li Ann had an easier time. "We could pass for officials." She remarked. They had dressed to impress their client this morning. Alex was constantly buying Mac and Li Ann expensive, designer clothes. "Maybe we should just fake out one of the cops. Tell him we're Feds.""Nay, they'll actually look at our badges." Mac shoved the car door shut. "I say we talk to some civilians...and maybe try for a written report or two."Li Ann nodded. "You sit tight." She repeated her warning to Victor one more time then knocked her door shut with her hip.They shook themselves into order, tugging their overcoats straight, before heading up the stairs into the hospital. The trick was looking like you belonged there.Without getting too close to the reception desk, Mac flipped open then snapped shut the folder that he kept his private investigator's licence in. "The kids from the bus?" He asked the receptionist, tucking the ID back inside his breast pocket.She pointed to the elevators. "Fourth floor. Go left. End of the hall."Mac nodded his thank you and gestured for Li Ann to precede him."We should have a plan." Li Ann spoke as the elevator lifted them."We do. Get in, find out what's going on, and get out." Mac smarted off.The doors opened on a semi-crowded hallway. Li Ann counted three uniforms and altogether too many suits. "This way." She paced down one of least congested corridors. "Keep your ears open." Li Ann glanced sideways into each of the rooms as they walked. She picked one by gut instinct. It had three teenage boys and no officials were present.All three of the young men straightened, probably because a beautiful woman had entered, but it might just be they were responding to the suits."Sorry guys." Mac pulled out a pad and pen. "I know it's been difficult but we need to get your statement.""Again?" One with a bandage on his forehead whined out a complaint. "Can't you people use a photocopy machine, fer Christsakes."Li Ann wasn't above batting her heavy lashes at the reluctant teen. "Where exactly was the bus...if you could start from there?" She asked sweetly."Just past Philadelphia." One of the others offered."It was too weird." The youngest looking the trio shook his blonde head. "The bus just stopped. I didn't even feel it breaking. It just stopped.""What about the other vehicles on the highway?" Mac asked. "Did one of them hit you?""That's just it. There weren't any other cars around. Don't you folk even talk to one another?" The head wounded one demanded."The driver was cursing and trying to start the bus again. That's when everything started to shake. I was thinking 'earthquake', but that can't be right.""All the gear fell out of the overheads. One of the girls screamed. The pretty redhead in the back, Rhonda."The three teens shifted the narrative between them."It got real bright.""The bus tipped onto its side and everybody fell all over.""Then there was a roar that made my ears ache. I passed out." The blonde offered."We all did." The third boy elaborated. "A fucking transport must have hit us or something." He sounded unconvinced."Next thing I knew some people were breaking windows to haul us out of there...drive-by people. They'd all parked on the shoulder of the highway.""That's when we noticed all the girls were missing...except Irene, Mrs Standish. She's one of the chaperones. Just the girls were gone." He touched his forehead gingerly. "Then the cops showed up and called for ambulances."Li Ann and Mac's expressions had both gone stony in dread. "How long do you think you were out?" Mac questioned. "Rough guess.""Don't know." The blonde's mouth crunched. "Not long, less than a half hour I guess...maybe just a few minutes. I don't know.""Excuse us." Li Ann jerked her head, indicating that she and Mac should step out into the hall. Mac considered Li Ann the master of the whispered shout, and he got it full force as soon as they were out the door. "This is a whole lot more complicated than we thought. We'll need copies of the official reports, somewhere to start looking...this isn't just a random act. It's a well organised kidnapping, Mac. We need to call Alex and get some help here. Victor's going to go ballistic. We need all the information we can get our hands on."Mac was just about to offer some suggestions when a voice from down the hallway solved their problems, as if by a miracle."No way!" A young man shouted. "I'm the agent in charge here and there is no way I want you and your wacked out ideas anywhere near this investigation.""I want his briefcase." Li Ann decided with a wicked smile.The twenty-something Suit was holding that very object behind him, as if he were shielding it from two other agents; an older, taller man that seemed vaguely familiar to Mac, and a short red haired woman."I heard what's going on up here, Spender, and I'm not going to let you sweep this under the rug for him." The older agent wasn't quite yelling, but his voice carried through the halls."This is my case. Go back to your own duties and stay out of my way.""You could use the help." The woman reasoned."I don't need your kind of help." The one in charge backed away. "I can handle this.""I'm not going to let you cover this up, Spender." The other agent stated aggressively."I don't know how you come up with these conspiracy theories of yours but I don't want any part of them." Spender pointedly turned his back on the pair and went to the nurses' station. He sat his briefcase on the desk, took a quick peek inside, and then requested. "I'd like to see...Ronald Devalley...next." The uniformed woman looked decidedly uncomfortable about the scene that had just been acted out. "Room 4039, sir." She glanced curiously over his shoulder at the other agents.The mixed pair of Feds were consulting in low tones as Spender went where the nurse had directed.Li Ann flicked her finger at the one in charge. They followed, keeping a careful eye on the rest of the officials who were loitering about. "He's wearing your suit." Li Ann observed quietly, meaning the loud one."Yeah, well...it looks like you and the redhead share the same labels too." Mac had to admit, the short one was a nice little package, if a bit on the frosty looking side.They slipped past and down the other corridor. "No need to hurt him." Li Ann halted just before the doorway Spender had entered. She wanted the man to get well into his interview and thoroughly distracted. "Any ideas?""None that don't leaving him screaming for help the moment we walk out." Mac admitted. He discreetly drew his gun. "I could cold-cock him. I'll be gentle...and we're in a hospital if it hurt him too much.""If it's like the other room, there's a bathroom just inside. The door is fairly solid." Li Ann whispered. "Toss him and whoever is in the room in there and hook a chair under the door. We don't need to get fancy." She said logically. "Here. This is a little cliche, but effective." She pulled the scarf from her collar and wrapped it around the lower half of Mac's face. "Try to keep the Fed's back to you if you can."Li Ann stood lookout. Mac wasn't nearly as quick as she wanted."That's not the best idea we've ever had and it won't hold them for long." Mac glared back into the room. "You take the briefcase so I can plead ignorance if someone stops me." He handed it over. "We should split up...make sure one of us gets back to the car to tell Vic what's going on." Mac grinned. "Promise you'll bail me out of jail before Alex gets home. I need time to pretty myself up." "Jerk. Meet me in the garage." Li Ann headed out, noting in passing that the pair of agents Spender had been arguing with were gone. She decided to duck into main washroom and ditch the case in favour of simply taking the files she needed from inside. It would be a lot less conspicuous. Li Ann locked herself into one of the stalls and shifted quickly through the papers. There was the police report, a few statements, and everything else she could use in a thick, carefully labelled folder. It was all in impeccable order for that matter. Lord, this guy was anal. Li Ann took out the case folder and left everything else intact for when Spender recovered his property.The muffled sound of a cell phone ringing and a brief word came along with the creak of the heavy bathroom door opening. "Where did you disappear to?" The woman's voice was both annoyed and resigned. "What did you need out of the car?" There was a pause, then a gasp. "Krycek...in the garage? Alex Krycek?"Li Ann froze, straining her ears. Someone had mistaken Victor for his twin brother, just as Alex had feared."Just watch him. Keep him there. No, don't do anything stupid. Don't go near him until I get there."Li Ann pushed out of the stall and went through the motions of washing her hands. It was the red haired Fed from the hallway."I'll call for back-up...but..." The agent snorted. "We have to trust somebody. No I won't tell Spender. I'll call Skinner. We'll need a safe house too. He won't last two minutes in jail. Just keep Krycek pinned down. I'll be there in a few minutes. Don't touch him." She repeated, yet again.Li Ann scooped up the file with still damp hands. She and the redhead exchanged brief nods as unfamiliar colleagues might do. The Fed then set to punching in another number on her cell phone and Li Ann departed. As soon as the washroom door blocked her from view Li Ann broke into a full tilt run for the nearest exit.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|In the first level of the underground Fox Mulder stood behind a pillar and fumed. He watched his long time opponent fidget and squirm in the driver's seat of a running car. Eight teenage girls, missing without a trace. It stank of the syndicate Krycek worked for, and his presence here at the hospital practically confirmed it. Mulder's fingers itched. He just knew if he didn't do something Krycek would be gone before Scully could get here, slipping back into the shadows he lived in. Mulder decided. He drew his gun and keeping low behind the parked cars, he edged his way forward. It was too easy. All of Krycek's attention seemed to be on the pedestrian door. He was waiting, rather impatiently, for someone without minding what else was going on. Only the fact Mulder had gotten turned around trying to find the vehicle they came in and had entered through the car ramp had saved him from walking right into Krycek's intense surveillance. Something Scully would be doing any minute. Scully would understand. He couldn't let Krycek bolt if the wrong person came out first. Mulder crawled around and crept up the side of the idling car. Nothing could feel better than resting the tip of his gun barrel just behind one of those tapered ears. "Hey Krycek." He drawled, enjoying the moment. "You know the drill. Hands where I can see them. No sudden moves."That dark head started to turn.Mulder dug into the pale skin. "Don't do it. Hands up and out of the car. NOW!" He reached forward, opening the door with his left hand. At least it wasn't that damned shit eating, 'I know something you don't know' grin of amusement on Krycek's face. Still, Mulder wanted to slap the blank expression the other had turned on him right off that too pretty face."This is a misunderstanding." Victor climbed slowly out of the car. He had been told to run like hell if anyone ever mistook him for Alex Krycek, but calm obedience seemed the safest course right now."Don't Krycek." Mulder shoved his gun hard into the other's ribs, meaning to leave a bruise. "Don't move. Don't even breath." Mulder leaned in. The first place he checked for a gun was the back of Krycek's jeans. It had been a favourite stash point in the past."You're hurting me." Victor complained in a calm tone."Good." A pat down turned up a full holster, one gun on either side of the younger man's chest and another piece in an ankle strap. "You're packing more heat than usual, Krycek." As soon as the words were out of his mouth Mulder cringed. He was kneeling before the other, face at groin level. Strangely enough the straight line didn't provoke the expected leer and sexual comeback. Mulder straightened, tossing the third gun after the others, far out of reach. "What's been done to those girls? Who are you waiting for?""I'm not Krycek." Victor stated definitely.Mulder lost it, slamming the flat of his hand into the other's forehead with as much force as he could muster. "Tell the truth, damn it." A slap to the cheek. "For once in your pathetic life..." Mulder pressed forward with his whole body, bending the other painfully backwards over the half-open car door.Sooty lashes lowered as green eyes looked pointedly down, drawing attention to the erection digging into one of Victor's denim covered hips.Mulder's jaw tightened in embarrassment. "You lying, murdering..." An abrupt pull away and a stunning backhand blow finished the sentence.Victor had enough. He blocked the next attempted smack and tried to disarm the older man with a quick thrust.The jab into his armpit staggered Mulder but he doggedly hung on to his weapon. Wincing, the FBI agent took a step back, extending his arm and aiming his gun right at the other's head. "I should kill you this time." Mulder threatened. "Close your eyes, bastard." The kick to his kidneys from behind flattened the agent to the concrete floor. His gun skidded away."Are you all right, Victor?" Li Ann settled into a ready stance, waiting for the man to stand back up."Sore." Her partner whispered.Li Ann glared down at the Fed. "Get the fuck up so I can knock you down again, pok gai."Mulder shifted, going for his own ankle piece, covering the action with babble. "New girlfriend, Krycek...don't get used to it. The guys in the Federal pen are looking forward to your arrival.""We've got to go Victor. Another one is coming." Li Ann tossed Mulder a contemptuous look then dared a brief touch to Victor's forehead. "It's bruising. What did he do to you?"Mulder finally pulled his spare and climbed to his feet. "You're both under arrest." He announced.Li Ann smiled in delight then exploded across the space between them, kicking the gun half way across the garage. "You..." She fisted into his ribs. "...hurt my..." A thump to the shoulder. "...friend."Mulder collapsed again with a broken groan of pain."FREEZE! FBI! NOBODY MOVE!" "It's about time you got here." Mulder stretched his lanky frame painfully."Step away from him." Scully ordered the other woman. "Up against the car. Assume the position." The gun in her two handed grip gestured. "You okay?""Among other things, I think my masculine pride is sprained." Mulder got up, a lot more slowly this time. "I like your partner, Krycek. Maybe we should double date some time.""Tset ha." Li Ann snarled."Find a gun." Scully suggested. "I phoned Skinner. He's calling in a team we can trust but it may take a bit of time.""Too bad we're on such a tight schedule, sweetie." Cold metal touched the nape of her neck. "No time to play, so sorry." Another gun cocked over her shoulder pointed Mulder's way. "And yes, my aim is excellent with both hands." Mac's voice was sparkling with amusement. "Disarm her Li Ann.""It's like a bloody game of dominoes." Victor straightened his jacket out. "Please tell me we've got the last piece.""Only for the moment. You heard her.""Yeah." Victor ran in the direction that his guns had been tossed, gathering them. He holstered his back up gun and one of his regular weapons."You're not going to get away with this, Krycek." Mulder snarled."They're looking for Alex." Li Ann explained to Mac as she finished her pat down of the female agent. She flipped open the badge she had found and froze. The oriental woman's eyes lifted to stare at the woman's face. "This says you're Dana Scully. It says, oh fuck...damn it to...Jesus fucking Christ!" She burst into an unusual flood of profanity that startled her male partners."Your reputation precedes you, Scully." Mulder observed, almost amused despite the situation.Li Ann spun around. "Then...you're Mulder?" She questioned.Mac's guns dipped immediately. "Mulder?" He repeated, stepping a little to one side so he could see better.Victor drew a bead on the female agent and pulled out his second gun to cover the male during the others' break in concentration. "What's going on?""You're Mulder?" Mac raked his dark eyes over the other man. "You're his Fox...Fuck!" Mac looked down at himself then back up at the agent. "The manipulative, little bastard. He's fucking dressing me like you. My naughty demon is going to pay bigtime for this one.""Tick, tick!" Victor kicked opened the car door all the way.Mulder dismissed the tall, abusive one and turned back on his original target. "I want those girls back, Krycek.""I'm not Krycek, damn it. Jeez, you and Mac both. I am not and will not be Alex for you. Get it through your thick skulls....What girls?" Victor suddenly switched tracks."The ones from the bus that your buddies took. Don't play stupid with me." Mulder growled."The girls in the bus...Someone's taken my sister?" Victor asked in confusion. "What are you talking about, Fed? Where's my sister?" Victor lunged forward, snagging hold of Mulder's lapels. "What do you know about my sister?"Mulder looked totally devastated. "This is surreal. This isn't happening" He struggled rather weakly, in shock at the words."Victor, stop it! Don't hurt him." Strange words coming from Li Ann so soon after she'd kicked his ass. "Alex will completely flip out if you hurt him, Victor." She dragged him back, planting herself between the two men. Li Ann met Mulder's hot glare without showing any fear. "You want Alex Krycek, Agent Mulder. Fine. Come with us. We'll take you to him.""NO!" Mac roared. "No. No. No. He's not coming with us. No way.""Quiet Mac.""Mulder, don't even think about it." Scully warned. "It's a trick.""Mac take shotgun. Victor, drive." Li Ann had the air of someone used to being obeyed. "Come on Agent Mulder." She invited, pointing to the back seat. "You want Alex." She stated. "We're meeting up with him this afternoon.""Mulder..." Scully warned.Li Ann frowned. "Her too if it'll make you feel better."The other doors had been slammed. Li Ann got in the back and slid all the way over. Victor shoved the gear into drive and revved the engine. Mulder's jaw tightened and he grabbed the rear door."No way. You are not going to ditch me this time." Scully moved faster, wedging herself into the centre of the back seat.Victor hit the gas before Mulder had properly closed the door from the inside. They peeled out of the garage and around the corner before his driving evened out."If Alex doesn't rip you up and back for this I will." Mac grouched angrily from the front seat without turning around. "Tuck the personal stuff away Mac. There are more important things than your jealous snit going on right now. I know what I'm doing." Li Ann pulled the file out from inside the waistband of her skirt after considerable contortions. She dropped the papers into Scully's lap. "You're the investigators. Tell us what all this means.""Where did you get this file?" Scully opened the folder."We took them from one of your guys. Pointy face, dark hair...you were arguing with him in the hospital hallway. Spender, you called him.""You stole Spender's case file?" Mulder reached, sounding amused."We needed information." Li Ann excused. "Victor's sister was on that bus.""LI ANN!" The driver shouted. "Where is Alice?""Mac, fill Victor in on what we've got so far. Victor mind the road or let Mac drive." She ordered.Scully lifted a brow at the imperious tone of the interaction then returned her attention to the papers slowly spreading across her and Mulder's laps.Mac glared out the window, dryly outlining what the teens in the hospital had told them. "Those two were trying to get in on the investigation." Mac wound down. "Maybe they know more."Victor spared some attention for the pair of newcomers. "And you know them?" He asked."Him. I know OF him." Mac clarified. "Alex has some kind of bizarre history with Mulder. Speaking of which, did you get hold of him...Alex I mean.""Out of range the message said last time I tried." Victor frowned. "Where are we going?" He contemplated possible routes. "Not back to the house, not with a couple of Feds in tow.""Get onto I-95." Mulder had obviously been listening in. "We need to go to the site and look around."Mac glared over his shoulder. "You're not in charge here, G-man." He warned.Still, Victor made the requisite turns to head for the highway.Mac sulked, pulling out his cell phone so he could try Alex again. It rang through this time.Alex's husky voice answered eventually. "Da, chto eto za?""Eh ta Mac, shalava."On the other end of the connection Alex sighed indulgently. "Cute, baby. Has Stacey been giving you language lessons?""Nyet. You always answer your cell phone the same way and I've heard it from both sides too many times. Although, Stacey did clue me in on the 'shalava' part...what does that word mean anyway?"Alex chuckled. "I'd rather you didn't know."Mac regretted having to drop the playful tone of the conversation, but it had to be. "We've got big trouble here, Demon. We're not going to be taking off out to party tonight after all. Where are you?""Customs. What trouble?"Mac grimaced. "Allegra and seven other girls got snatched off the bus, in transit. The whole situation is just plain weird. The FBI is in on it..." He hesitated. "Li Ann, AGAINST MY BETTER JUDGEMENT..." Mac raised his voice. "...has drafted a couple of Feds to help us find out what happened."Alex made a soft, distressed noise. "Feds?"Mulder was staring intently at Mac with a grim expression. Mac sneered, curling up his top lip."Will you two knock it off." Victor snapped, noticing the interaction."Yeah, Feds." Mac acknowledged to the cell phone. "An exquisite little redhead and your ex." He announced. "Where do you want to hold the happy reunion?"Alex was cursing in yet another of his vast repertoire of languages. "Where are you now?" He finally became coherent."Just onto I-95, headed towards Philly.""I'll grab a rental and meet you at a bar that's just off the highway. It's called the Red light." Alex reeled off the directions, which Mac passed to Victor."Got it, lover." Mac used the endearment on purpose, making sure Mulder heard it. "See you there." He disconnected. \|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|In the parking area of the rental agency a young blonde woman stared in shock at the man just walking into the office. When the Director had very casually asked her to come to D.C. Jackie had expected a rather dull week. It seemed to her that if the Agency's three runaway operatives went to all the trouble of playing dead and disappearing without anything more than the clothes on their backs...then they wouldn't likely to be stupid enough to show up somewhere they were expected to be. The Director wanted Jackie to shadow Victor's younger sister around on the off chance Victor would try to make contact with the girl. It was a thin straw, the Director knew that, or the assignment would be official instead of personal favour. The last thing Jackie Janczyk expected of this little jaunt to Washington was to hit pay dirt within an hour of landing. Still, she'd know that face anywhere. As clear as the day was bright, Victor, the oldest of the missing agents, stood at the counter filling out a form. She could either confront Victor right now or tail him in hopes that he would point her in the direction of his confederates.The Director's gratitude was going to be delicious. It would be a shame to wait the whole week before earning that satisfying praise and she didn't want to risk loosing Victor. Jackie decided to take what fate had handed her and turn everything official before Victor could shake her off. It was just a matter of deciding the right moment to take him. Fortunately Victor was usually pretty easy to tip off balance if you took him by surprise. Life on the run didn't seem to be disagreeing with Victor but it had altered him rather dramatically. His regulation short hair was growing out to a flattering, glossy fall.The second-skin black leather pants, satiny shirt and decorated leather jacket were a startling change from his old 'off duty cop' look. His choice of vehicles was unexpected as well. No clunky pick-up truck or practical sedan. Instead Jackie watched him stride to a 'fast as legal' sports car. He popped the trunk, dropping in a compact laptop and awkwardly shrugging out of the shoulder strap of his suitcase.Jackie drew her gun and sidled closer, using parked rental cars as cover. A quick look around showed that this part of the lot was mostly deserted. Once she was close enough for him to hear it, Jackie made her gun click out a warning. She expected a quick turnabout with a certain amount of shock. Instead, he calmly closed the trunk and casually shifted in order to look at her. With him almost leaning on the car, they faced each other. Brows lifted over cool green eyes. He swept an appraising leer from her blonde hair down to her heels then back up again to meet her gaze. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"Jackie wrapped herself in sarcasm. "Y'know, Victor, I was like...totally miffed you didn't even say good-bye. I thought we were buds."Alex smiled. Her half-familiar face clicked into its proper memory cell. Jackie Janczyk, a novice agent who had been sort of working with his trio at the Agency before Alex had liberated them. Most importantly, Jackie had assumed he was Victor so she was completely unprepared for his level of play. "Hey, short notice and all...I never got round to mailing out my change of address cards. Sorry."Her stance was loose, relaxed. "The Director is SO mondo pissed with you guys." Jackie warned. "Speaking of which, where are Mac and Li Ann?" She was pleased in one way by Victor's calm acceptance of her but his reactions were all twisty compared to what she remembered of him."Together. Somewhere. Not with me." Alexei put a full dose of bitter venom in the statement. He sulked, letting some of his newly lengthening hair dangle forward into his lashes. "It all fell apart after about a month. We were fighting all the time. They left one night."Jackie was frowning and had taken a step closer. "They ditched you to do the happy couple thing? Poor baby.""Don't." He heaved a sigh. " I've had it with running...but, listen...I had to work my ass off, literally..." A grimace emphasised that. "...to get the money for this trip, Jackie." Alexei locked eyes with her, doing his best to look tired and defeated. "Can we at least go see Alice once before you take me home?" Jackie brows had drawn completely together and her scarlet mouth turned down at the corners. "I'll have to check in with her majesty." She temporised. "Though I doubt the Director is going to be in a mood to grant you any favours, Vic." Her blue eyes had noticed his dog collar now. "Jeez, Vic. What kind of crap have you gotten into?" It blurted out.Alex actually smiled. His artificial arm slammed out, knocking Jackie's gun from her loose grip. He kicked hard into her kneecap, dropping the blonde to the pavement, then planted one foot on Jackie's chest while he drew his own weapon. The pose reeked of an execution. "Deeper shit than you've ever swam in, little girl." Alexei finally answered her question. "I'd just as soon kill you." He warned at the tensing of her body. "It's so much tidier that way. I wouldn't have to watch my back. The only down side is that Victor is such a fucking boy scout. If he ever found out I'd off-ed you without a good reason he'd climb up onto that moral high horse of his and I'd have to spend a few days grovelling for forgiveness. Personally, I prefer to save those kind of games for the bedroom." Alex laughed. "So you be a good little lapdog and take the Director a message. 'Kay? You describe this little encounter and me. I do believe she'll remember me. Then you tell her that her that Alex has extended his protection over her three wayward children and unless she stays away I will be forced to do some damage...even more, this time." The pointed toe of his footwear dug in. "Got that, sweetheart?""Ya huh." Jackie gasped out confirmation."Pity I don't have more time. You and I could have some fun, but...the M'sera is not very good at sharing her toys and I'm in a hurry at the moment. Sorry about this, little pretty." He apologised, then his boot lifted off her chest and kicked out, catching Jackie's temple.The sound of his car screeching out was lost in a daze of pain.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|Expecting a run of the mill roadhouse, the small group was shocked to be halted at the entrance of the Red Light by a beefy bouncer in a two piece suit. "I'm sorry, I think you ladies have stopped at the wrong place." The wide man said politely, concentrating on Scully and Li Ann. "Maybe I could give you directions if you're lost."Dana Scully's chin lifted and she glared an ice storm at the man. Mulder winced in sympathy. He'd been on the receiving end of her 'Doctor Scully' look too many times over the years."We're not lost." Victor defended, stepping between the small agent and her intended prey. "We're meeting someone here. We followed his directions. This IS the Red Light, right?"The bouncer finally looked past the two women to take note of Victor, Mac and Mulder. His attention lingered longest on Mac, taking in the two earrings and the sulky pout Mac was absently aiming at Mulder's back. The bouncer relented with some hesitation. "If you folks cause any trouble I'll kick your asses out of here." He warned, stepping out of the dark archway to let them enter.It was hard to be sure in the dim lighting but the bar seemed to have an antique theme. Old wood and porcelain decorations abounded. Cool music with a subtle Celtic overtone flowed through the half-light covering any quiet conversations. The sparse population was most likely due to the time of day.Li Ann broke into an amused laugh, a warm comfortable sound. "Alex is being funny." She sounded indulgently delighted. "Something about you two brings out the brat in him." She told the federal agents. "This is a gay bar." Li Ann explained in a low tone when they stared blankly.Scully huffed gently and rolled her eyes. Victor looked around, a weary sigh escaping him.Mac let spill a peal of laughter. "See anything you like Mulder?" He asked, noticing they were drawing some covert attention from the inhabitants of the roadhouse."Will you grow up." The older man snapped, glancing about. Most of the men seemed to be middle level business types. They nursed drinks in the half-light at small round tables.The notable exception to the quiet restraint was at the bar, where several men clustered around a lounging leather-clad figure. As the incoming group crossed the floor a hesitant hand settled on the curve of snug black that covered the other man's ass. The grope was batted casually away."Demon." Mac whispered, his breath catching painfully. "He's so fucking beautiful."The others followed Mac's line of sight to where five different men were hitting on Alex, despite the Russian's cool indifference to the attention. Chilly green eyes swept across the room finally noticing the arrival of his companions. Those same eyes then lit up with fire.Alex's flock of admirers drifted away, seeing they had lost any chance. Li Ann, watching for it, cringed in empathy for Mac. Alex had smiled upon sighting his lover but the Russian absolutely blazed when Mulder's presence registered."I've been waiting too long." Amazingly, his purr carried across the room."We stopped at the site." Victor ignored the double meaning and carelessly stepped into Alex and Mulder's exchange of stares.Li Ann felt like kissing Victor in gratitude at the interruption. Unfortunately, the tall Fed didn't appreciate the gesture and pushed past to walk over to the bar."You sneaky, duplicitous bastard..." Mulder snarled. "What kind of game are you playing this time?""It's lovely to see you too, Foxy." Alex closed the remainder of the distance, speaking not three inches from the other's face and matching Mulder glare for glare.Mac visually fumed, his fists clenching. Victor cut in once more, this time physically levering Alex backward to get between the two men. "You couldn't pick a ruddy McDonalds. Cripes Alex. This is serious business." He complained to his twin."I know Victor." The Russian half turned, reaching behind himself to pick his laptop off the bar. "It's not that I'm being flippant, I just knew about this place and how handy it is. I'm worried about Allegra too.""Alice." Victor corrected automatically."She told me to call her Allegra." Alexei insisted. "And I'm a great respecter of any alias, especially where family is concerned." He turned the rest of the way to speak to the bartender. "We'll be in the party room. Send back some chips and chicken...spring water and iced tea." Alex pushed away to walk over to Mac's side."Nice outfit." The tall thief commented, taking in the snug leather. "You must have had help getting into it.""And I'll need more to get out again." Alex frowned. "Hey, I was expecting us to spend the night partying with Allegra...not a kidnapping." With the briefest of side-glances at Mulder, he rocked up onto his toes and offered his mouth to Mac.The younger man took the moment to establish his claim, threading the fingers of one hand into Alex's inky hair and inflicting a bruising kiss on the shorter man. Mac caught hold of Alexei's ass with his free hand, squeezing, and grinding their bodies tight together. He didn't ease off until a gulp for air became necessary. "Your hair is getting so long, lover. I like it."Laying a steadying hand on Victor, Li Ann spoke. "They haven't seen each other in three weeks." She reminded the ex-cop when he started to look annoyed."The case Krycek." Scully prodded, unimpressed with the display."Yeah." Alex broke away from Mac to point to a shadowed doorway in the back of the barroom. "Was there any scorched earth near the site?""Yes, but no radiation." The forensics team was still working on a few more details when we left." Scully provided. "Do you have any idea what happened?"Alexei didn't quite laugh as he led the way to the private room. "Despite Mulder's theories, the consortium and I do not have a finger in every single evil thing that happens on the face of the planet.""Not for lack of effort, I'm sure." Mulder had used his long legs stride forward faster than most of the others. Entering the room right after Krycek, he took the opportunity to roughly shove Alex to one side, knocking him into a chair.Startling his newer companions, the Russian accepted the casual violence without complaint."We need to consider who was taken." Scully, unsurprised by the scene, settled at the long dining table. "This all could be an elaborate cover to grab one or two of the girls for ransom."Alex placed his computer on the table and snapped it open. "Unfortunately, she's right...although ransom might not be the motivator." He confirmed. "We've been careful but there's a chance someone made the connection and this might be about Allegra...and me.""Or another girl. There were eight of them." Li Ann pulled out the list. Mulder was frowning at the Russian, having finally noticed there was something odd about the way his left arm was moving. The sudden realisation was like a light going on behind his eyes. "Your arm, Krycek..."Alex looked up with a narrow warning glare. "What about it?""Tunguska?" Mulder asked."Big fucking surprise, eh, Mulder...I don't want to talk about it, okay."The FBI agent frowned and withdrew a short distance to contemplate his discovery. His expression twisted through a range of emotions."Do you want me to type for you, Alex?" She offered, trying to turn the other man's attention back to the subject at hand."You wouldn't be able to read the documents, beautiful. Some code, some Russia, some other languages...some all gobbled together." He shook his head. "And it tosses up password requests for almost every command. I may be slow, but I know what I'm doing." Alex lifted his real hand to the keyboard. The other one required too much concentration to move the fingers and typing was easier without it. "You might want to sift through the list of people who pulled over to help, find out if they're all valid identities. A plant in that lot would make sense. Mulder's bureau contacts should make that easy.""I'm calling the lab." Scully pulled out her cell phone. "I'll see what forensics found out about the prints they lifted."Alexei stabbed a few commands into the keyboard. "Oh Mac, maybe you should call Stacy. Tell her I ran into Jackie Janczyk at the airport.""WHAT!" Mac, Victor, and Li Ann all stopped what they were doing."Later." Alex delayed, tossing his head in Scully's direction. "Suffice to say, she now knows I'm not Victor and she shouldn't mess with me."Mac frowned, but he didn't press. He did however, distance himself from the Feds before placing the call.Mac's withdrawal coincided with Mulder drifting back over to the Russian's proximity. Fox Mulder swatted the back of Alex's head. "You've assumed we have a truce, Krycek." He settled onto the edge of the table beside Alex's laptop, smiling when the other angled the screen carefully away so he couldn't read it. "Yes, I have." Alex had to push some hair out of his eyes. "After all, we've been in the same building for several minutes now and you haven't pulled your gun." He licked his lips. "I could get used to this, Fox.""Don't Krycek." Mulder hissed, kicking Alex's chair in warning."Is it so blasted hard to say Alex?""Without gagging? Yes." They exchanged another heated glare.Alex dropped his eyes first. "After we figure this out, Mulder." He stalled. "We can settle accounts after we find Allegra.""Our accounts will never be settled." Mulder worked up to his usual rant, but it was harder this time. Between their last encounter in his living room and this completely odd situation, Mulder's response to his former partner was even more off-centre than usual. "Why did you give me the gun? Why turn your back?" The questions substituted for the one he really wanted to ask."Potomu chto ya lubitv ti." Alexei whispered softly, closing his eyes a moment. It felt good to finally say the words aloud, especially since no one in the room could understand and call him on it. "I'm not your enemy, Mulder. I've been trying to help you where I can.""By sending me out for another mind-wipe? By letting those fucking Russians torture me? By killing my father?" The rage burst free once more."I've told you and told you...I didn't kill your father, Mulder." Alex leaned back, massaging his left shoulder with his right hand. "Let's not do this now...here."A hand shot out and slammed Alex on the side of the head, nearly knocking him onto the floor. "Yes now. You want our help with this. Talk!"Mac hung up and closed the distance. He pushed out at the Fed, connecting hard and snarled. "Back off G-man.""Ramsey!" Alex bolted upright. "Don't touch him, Mac.""I should say the same to you, Demon." Mac snapped at his lover, sick of the passive acceptance of the agent's abuse Alex was displaying. "Shouldn't I?""This isn't going to work." Li Ann sighed, watching the scene unfold. "I hoped it would, but..."Victor's jaw tightened up. "That's enough!" He planted himself solidly in the centre of the conflict. "Alex, get your attention back to those files. Mac, get your contact at the DMV on the phone and run all the cars that stopped to help. Agent Mulder, eight young women are missing...stop acting like a schoolyard bully and do your job. This is not grade two, boys.""But..." Mulder objected.Victor didn't let him get past the first word. "NO! When this is over you three can brawl your problems out but right now I want my sister back before she's lost too far to find. Now get to work." Victor was making it quite clear he wasn't his twin brother and wouldn't take any crap from the agent.Scully nodded, looking up from her phone conversation. Li Ann smiled, hoisting her own P.C. onto the table.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|"So where do we go from here?" Victor surveyed the bits of paper that lay amid dirty dishes and empty glasses.Alexei dropped heavily onto one of the long, grey sofas that lined the walls. He'd been annoyed to discover that the bus abduction did fit in with the plans of two separate consortium projects. The likelihood was increased and pinpointed when Alex recognised one of the helpful Samaritans from his driver's licence photo. "We break in.""Wait a minute." Scully cut in. "Couldn't we try something a bit more legal first. If you've any proof at all we should call Skinner...get a warrant." Alex and Li Ann looked politely amused but Mac let out a bark of laughter. "She's dealing with four of the finest thieves around and she wants a warrant.""Thieves?""I prefer international entrepreneur." Alexei stated blandly. "You start paperwork on this and the whole operation will vanish faster than we can get there, Scully.""We're federal agents, Krycek." Mulder toyed with an empty glass. "Give us something to work with if you want us to help.""Fine." Alex twisted, trying to stretch out some kinks in his back. "Just by chance you saw a wanted criminal...you followed...you saw him committing a break and enter on some out of the way compound...""You?""Of course." The Russian confirmed. He raked one gloved hand back through his untidy hair. "Like I said, you saw him committing a crime...that's when you call for back-up, once we confirm we've got the right place.""So where to?" Mulder questioned."West and north." Alexei hedged. "You'll know when we get there." He glanced around the room. "Did you all come in one car?""Yeah." Mac confirmed, settling down behind the older man. "We're going to have to swing by the house to get our work gear. Maybe you could send Victor with the Feds while we suit up...his clothes will do." Mac shifted so he could rub Alex's neck."No, we shouldn't muck up the teams. I'll go with Mulder and Scully." Alex countered absently, leaning back into the touch.Mac's thumbs dug in. "Send Vic, shalava." He repeated more forcefully, skirting the edge of pain."Not again." Li Ann gathered up the scattered case file contents."I'm taking Krycek. I want him where we can keep an eye on him." Mulder stood, snagging his coat off the chair-back.Mac glowered. "Forget it Fibbie.""Don't start this again." Victor interrupted. "Alex isn't going to bail, Agent Mulder. Alice is his sister too. I'll go with the pair of you. Give me directions, Alex. Then you, Mac and Li Ann can stop by the house.""What house?" Scully questioned."Our home." Li Ann explained. "All of us could stand to change our clothes. We didn't exactly dress for a 'break and enter' this morning...and we've got some equipment that will make the job easier.""How about we all go." Mulder suggested.Alex snorted. "Like I want you to know where I live. Right Mulder.""You keep saying we're on the same side now, Krycek. Show some good faith. Let's see the rock you're living under this week."The Russian frowned. "It's not my place to expose it to the Feds. It's their home." He gestured to the scattered trio."It's a democracy." Victor studied first Mulder, then Scully, considering their behaviour over the last few hours. Except for the Alex abuse, they had been completely dedicated to the search. "I'll trust them." "So speaks an ex-cop...trust the feds, no freakin' way." Mac protested. "Li Ann this is the FBI. We don't need them knowing anything more about us than necessary."Li Ann looked thoughtful. "You once called her St Scully, the incorruptible." She reminded Alex softly. "If you can't trust a saint, who can you trust. Besides Mac, now they realise we exist they could find our place with a bit of effort. They're in. Let's go. Vic and I will bring them. Mac, you and Lexi need to have a nice long talk en route." Li Ann picked up her things. "Can you take care of the bill, Mac?" It was more of a suggestion than a request. "Agents...Vic, let's move out."Mulder paced over to peer down at Alex. "Don't even think about disappearing, Krycek...or I'll hunt you down.""A Fox hunt, sounds like fun." Alexei looked up, using his dark lashes and jade eyes as weapons. "No need to worry, Mulder. I'm through running away from you." The smouldering stare they were exchanging threatened to burst into open flame.Li Ann couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. "Agent Mulder." She needed to halt the impending conflagration. It had been her idea to bring Mulder and Alex together so Mac's dilemma was her fault. "Agent Mulder." Louder now."Mulder." Scully's crisp voice broke the interaction. "We're leaving now." Her heels clicked as she walked out the door, confident he would follow."We're not finished." Mulder warned the triple agent."I'll be along in a few minutes." Alex whispered. "I've more at stake here than you do."Mulder withdrew with Victor close behind him.Li Ann lingered long enough to apologise. "I'm sorry Mac, but you're going to have to deal with this sooner or later.""I was hoping later. Go." Mac stood, pulling out his wallet to find his credit card.Alexei had progressed to staring at a stain on the dark carpet. There was no sense denying that he knew his and Mulder's conduct was the topic at hand.Mac glanced about the room, checking to see if anything besides Alex's laptop remained by accident. "You love him?" Mac tucked his wallet away after removing his Visa card."It's not that simple." Alex scooped up his leather jacket and squirmed into it."How about we simplify it then?" Mac closed up the small computer and picked it up. "I'm not under any illusion that you're faithful to me, Alexei." He spoke calmly enough. "I know you fuck around for business...and for fun, when you're not home with us. In fact, I know you were doing Stacey not three floors away from me...a couple of times." Mac lead the way out the door and to the long bar. "I've also clued in that you and Li Ann occasionally do more than talk when you wander down there in the middle of the night because you can't sleep." The sweet-faced bartender accepted the plastic with a smile despite Mac's attention being entirely on Alex."We do talk...mostly...just..." Alexei started to answer back, then thought twice about his words and shrugged instead."As long as you're careful and you don't rub my face in it, you can fuck around with whomever takes your fancy...except..." Mac paused to sign the credit form. "Thanks for the use of the room." He said absently. "C'mon Alex. I'll drive. Give me the keys, Demon."The evening air was a refreshing change from inside the roadhouse. Neither man spoke again until they were safely sealed inside the small red car."Except?" Alex prompted as his lover inserted the key in the ignition.Mac sighed, shoving the seat back a few inches. "God Alexei. It hurts. I love you so much it's frightening...but you'd be gone in one breath if you could have Mulder. Wouldn't you?"Alex rested his temple against the cool glass of his window. "Don't love me, Mac. I've told you not to a hundred times it seems.""Jeez Alexei." Mac actually whined. "It doesn't work that way for us normal human beings. These last nine months...do you think I set out to fall for someone who spends two out of every three weeks in god-knows what corner of the world doing things most people would cringe to even consider. Fuck!" He slammed the steering wheel. "I don't WANT to love you but as soon as I lay eyes on you my brain turns to mush...and when you're gone...I just want to scream all night. It's like some kind of sick addiction.""Poetic." Alex murmured, knowing better than Mac that an addiction was actually a fairly apt description of the problem. Alexei had strange chemical cocktails pumping through his system that insured just this kind of reaction from his sexual partners and Mac was getting a longer-term, heavier, and more consistent infusion than any lover Alex had taken in years."Shut up Alexei." The younger man snapped. "It's time...you have to chose." Mac ordered. "You've got until we wrap this business up." He explained. "Then you either come home with me or you keep mooning after bloody-fucking Mulder and I toss every bit of your gear into the basement apartment.""But Mac...""I'm not expecting you to leave. I never want you to think you can't come home. You belong with Li Ann, Victor and I. We're a family now. But forget about us sleeping together. Either you cut out this little game you and Mulder are playing or you start bunking in the fourth apartment of our building." He revved the engine and tore out of the parking lot."I need you Mac." Came the whisper."THAT'S not what I want to hear from you." The tires squealed in protest at the tight corner. "You are such a self-centred bastard.""I know. I'm sorry." Alexei gazed at the scenery rushing past. "But Mac, are you sure you want me to make a decision? We've gotten by all this time."Mac passed cars, fracturing the speed limit. "I've never seen him before...seen you with him. It was obscene, Demon, like watching a peep show. Christ Alexei. Now I know how Victor felt when I used him to fill in for you...only you're doing it on purpose. You're dressing me like him, trying to turn me into him. I don't be some kind of Mulder substitute for you, not anymore. It's not enough." Alex looked over, eyes black in the faint street light. He popped his seatbelt. "Pull over, Mac. I don't want to die in a car crash." With that, he dropped down reaching for the fly on the other's pants."Fuck Alexei!" Mac swerved a bit, slowing down. "Cut that out. This isn't about sex.""Nicki programmed me thoroughly, baby. Everything..." Swift leather covered fingers unbuttoned and unzipped. "Everything is about sex." Alex nuzzled. "Especially between us."The car skidded over into the slow lane. Two tires touched the gravel of the shoulder.Alex used none of his usual finesse, instead he licked the head of Mac's cock twice to stiffen him then sucked the erection to the back of his throat.Mac tightened his grip on the wheel and forced himself to deal with the road. "You perfect bitch." His hips lifted involuntarily. One hand released the steering wheel to tangle in that fine, dark hair.Twice a faint choking sound escaped Alex but neither of them let up on the pressure."Demon whore." Mac shuddered, straining to keep his eyes open.On the highway a few horns honked their dismay at the red car's erratic speed changes but thankfully, most simply avoided the problem by a full lane.Alex pulled back a little, barring his teeth to sensitive skin, then swallowed hard once more. It earned him two floods. One, a stream of obscenities from Mac's lips, and the other a hot flash down his throat. The Russian tucked Mac carefully back into his boxers but didn't bother trying to do anything back up. Alex sat up, re-did his seatbelt and rolled down the window, effectively dampening anything Mac wanted to say with the roar of the wind.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^"I keep expecting Rod Sterling to begin doing a voice-over." Dana Scully stood at the window looking over the glow from Atlantic City. "This place seems so normal, but how can it be?" She crossed her arms and glanced back over her shoulder at her partner.Mulder was holding a framed picture at arm's length. "Bizarre." It was a wholesomely common portrait of Krycek, Victor and the other two. The only odd thing about the photo was the way they were all physically connected in the pose. Li Ann had one arm around Mac, the tall mouthy one, and her other hooked about the waist of Victor...if clothing and the smile were to be believed. Those two guys seemed to be linked behind her back. The one Mulder assumed was Krycek sat in front, leaning back against the oriental beauty. Victor's left hand was on Krycek's left shoulder. The shoulder that connected to the Russian's fake arm. Mulder suppressed a brief shudder at that train of thought and tucked it away for later study. Krycek's right arm was bent up so he could clasp hands with Mac."Alex had to be dragged to the studio...kicking and screaming but I think it was worth it. That pose...the photographer pegged us perfectly." Victor emerged from the bedroom, tucking a multi-pocketed black vest in place. "He's convinced this picture will figure prominently in some future blackmail fiasco." He took the frame gently away and sat it back down on the coffee table. "He's not what you think, Agent Mulder. At least, not entirely.""I could say the same to you." Was the grumbled response."Do you realise that Alex Krycek is wanted for questioning in regards to several murders, espionage charges, and a kidnapping...as well as a few other matters?" Scully glanced curiously into the kitchen as she recited the list of crimes."I don't believe I know Alex Krycek." Victor fudged. "Our Alex..." He shrugged. "I mean, I know he's morally ambiguous, but with us he's...different.""Yeah, I'm sure he always helped your Mom with the dishes and made his bed every day." Mulder snarked."I wouldn't know." Victor checked his pockets for lock-picks, nylon line and various other tools of thievery. "Myself, I met him less than a year ago. Mac and Li Ann, they hooked up with him for a while back in '95. He's done right by all of us.""You only met him a year ago?" Scully repeated. "You are his brother though? Have you had any tests done?" She couldn't help but suspect a more sinister explanation where Alex Krycek was concerned and Victor seemed like such a decent guy."DNA test." Victor pulled a pair of dark sneakers out of the closet. "Early January. Siblings was the verdict, identical twins ...well, no kidding." He snorted. "But it's a long story."The front door slammed, as if to punctuate the words."You are such a smug bastard." Mac's voice rang from the stairwell. Two sets of feet thumped up the steps. "A blow job doesn't change anything."Victor winced.Mulder and Scully exchanged pained looks.Krycek's husky voice responded too quietly for them to make out the words."Like I care what the fuck they think." The sounds ascended out of hearing range rather quickly."Krycek's gay." Scully observed the obvious."No, Alex is VERY bi." Victor corrected. "So is Mac. But, they're sort of a couple at the moment. They have been since December." He poked around in a drawer near the t.v and pulled out a few extra clips of bullets, stashing them into the vest. All three of his guns had to be extracted and checked.Li Ann let herself in Victor's front door. She was outfitted for a break-in as well, black gear with bits of equipment stuffed in pockets and hanging off her belt. She looked up at the ceiling then over at Victor with a grimace. "This is worse than I expected.""Mac's got to deal with it or it's going to blow up at the worst possible time...not that this was the best moment to cause this, Li Ann. We need Mac concentrating on the job and Alex at his sharpest.""We'll get their all, Victor. You know how both of them are about family.""What's going on?" Scully interrupted. "Our lives are at risk here too. What's up with all that?""Mac's angry about your partner." Victor seemed surprised at having to explain the situation.Li Ann snorted. "Understatement of the decade, Victor. He's foaming at the mouth jealous that Mulder is here.""Pardon?" Scully's brows lifted slightly.A look of disbelief distorted Li Ann's lovely features. "How could you not notice?" She shook her head. "Alex is desperately in love with your partner. He has been since before Mac and I met him in Hong Kong years ago. Are you blind?""Mulder?" Scully's cool voice seemed to demand a great deal from him. "Did you know?"The tall agent buried his hands in his pockets and slumped slightly. "I thought...there was always this thing...then while we were in Russia, I practically..." He stalled out each sentence without finishing them. "But it's not love. That's absolutely absurd.""They're both blind." Li Ann decided wearily. "Victor where's the mini-trampoline? Alex says these guys love electric fences." She considered. "And we should carry triple ammo, I think.""Truly bizarre." Scully confirmed an earlier observation.About ten minutes later someone padded down the stairs. Alex let himself in. He was more Victor's twin than ever now they were dressed similarly."I expected a power suit." Li Ann glanced at Alex's clothes. "Won't your Krycek persona work with these people? You could bluff us in.""Alex Krycek doesn't do power suits, Li Ann...besides, exposing Krycek as an outside player is a last resort here. Gentry's death hoisted me up the food chain in the consortium. I'm not ready to flush that clout unless I have to...but I will if need be." Alex assured Victor. "Mac's grabbing some password breaker programs. We might have to settle for information tonight.""I want Alice back now." Victor protested."We want all the girls." Mulder amended. "Don't forget that."Two identical green gazes turned on the Federal agent. Mulder had to look away, down at his watch."We'll take my rental as a throw away vehicle. I saw the company van outside. It'll be our primary. We'll need the tramp, Beautiful, and the heaviest wire-cutters." "In the van." Victor provided.Mac finally arrived. "There was a message on my machine from Nicki, offering her help. Stacey must have called her. Do we want her in on this?""Not yet." Alex accepted Li Ann's help strapping on an ammo belt. "If I have to crash and burn Krycek's standing in the syndicate to get Allegra out...Nicki might forbid it. Better to beg forgiveness than risk refusal by asking permission. We've all learned that lesson over the years."Mulder found the method Alex had of referring to himself in the third person disturbing. "Who the hell are you, Krycek?"Alex paused, his lips curving into a provocative smile. "Who do you want me to be, Fox. I'm flexible." Mac's hand lifted then fell in an aborted protest."If you don't stop calling me that I will shoot you, Krycek.""Alex! Damn it. You call me Alex and I'll stop calling you Fox. Deal?""Go fuck yourself, Krycek."The Russian exhaled his anger, spinning around to lead them out the door."You're an moron, Fibbie. But that's all the better for me." Mac hissed and followed his lover.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|It's amazing what a few badly constructed country roads can hide." Victor observed quietly.They had parked a fair distance back because of the lack of cover up close to the fenced compound."Are you sure this is the right place? It doesn't look like much is going on." Scully lifted the binoculars to her eyes."A lot of outside guards and bright lights would draw more attention than they were worth." Alex said confidently. "The fence is electrified and topped with razor wire. The gate works on rotating codes. The building needs a keycard to get in." He held out his hand, requesting the spyglasses. "The guards are fairly thick inside and they have electronic surveillance. They're working off internal power supplies.""Impressive." Li Ann complimented. "The fence looks a bit high...even for us and that bare earth approach is nasty.""Uh huh." Alex acknowledged. "What about that new toy Mac showed me in July, the one that shunts the electricity around the hole.""It's tricky." Mac shrugged. "Slow too. The cameras will spot us if we take that long getting inside. Best stick to the tried and true.""Then it's a jump point we need." Alex decided. "Mac, Li Ann and I will go in first and do a little cleaning up. We'll turn the fence off, then Vic can chop a hole to bring Mulder and Scully in.""Define 'cleaning up'." Scully demanded."I'll clear a path. Leave it at that, Scully." Alex warned. "Mac, Li Ann. Gear up."The three of them began pulling things out of the van."It's a steep jump." Victor frowned. "I'll boost you all then drag the tramp back out of sight once you're over."The four darkly clad figures ran swiftly forward to the tall fence. They worked seamlessly. Victor cupped his hands together in a stirrup. Mac dropped the small trampoline in place. Li Ann took a short run, used Victor's prop to boost herself even higher, hit the tramp then skimmed just over the fence. She landed with a tumble and rolled up to sprint to the cover of the building."I'll need you to push up." Alex requested and executed the same trick with a much narrower margin of clearance over the razor wire.As soon as Mac took the trip Victor grabbed the small framed piece and tore back to where the FBI agents were waiting.Inside the compound Mac slammed up to the wall beside his partners. "Which way?""The electrical is centred in the basement...the south-east corner. We need to get inside." Alex drew a gun with a silencer on it. He led them to the nearest entrance.At the door Mac withdrew a keycard attached with wires to a small electronic box. He slid the card into the locking mechanism and poked some buttons on the gadget.Li Ann leaned close to whisper in Alexei's ear. "Don't kill anyone unless you have to, Love." She requested.His voice was brittle. "Except for the girls there are no innocent bystanders in this place." Alex glanced around, impatient for the lock-pick to do it's work.A faint click was the precursor to Mac cracking the door open. "Damn, I'm good." He bragged.They peered into the dim hallway. Alex pointed Li Ann in the direction of the stairs to the electrical room then tapped Mac's arm and hitched his head in the opposite direction. The men took off at a run. Alexei was in the lead. The fierce grin on Alex's face foreshadowed trouble."We should split up. We'll cover more ground that way." The Russian suggested at the first fork in the path. Alexei didn't want his lover to see the trail of bodies he intended to leave in his wake. "Go that way." Alex pointed in the direction he assumed were offices and storage space."You sure?"Alex nodded. "If you see any computers take what files you can copy from the hard drives." His voice grew solemn. "Be careful, Baby. These people, they play for keeps." He flashed another brief smile and sprinted off.As soon as he was out of Mac's view Alexei paused to let his mood settle flat. When turning a corner revealed a guard Alex didn't hesitate to shoot, drilling a neat hole right through the man's forehead. An empty lab made a decent dumping ground for the body.Alex opened every door along the way, having to use his lock-pick only twice. He shook his head at the lax security in this place.One portal opened on a doctor and aide in surgery scrubs standing amid a clutter of equipment. Alex made a snap decision. One shot dropped the surprised nurse to the pristine floor. "You want to live...then you had better tell me everything you're doing here." Alexei eased the door closed behind himself and moved further into the room.A teenage girl lay in restraints on the table beside the doctor. Her eyes were glazed over but the slight chest still rose and fell gently.The old man's mouth opened, his attention wholly on the corpse at his feet."How many girls have you cut open so far?" When the response wasn't immediate Alex stepped closer and levelled the barrel of his weapon. "I asked, how many girls have you worked on so far?""Only one." Stuttered out. "This is the second." He admitted."Which procedure?" The others would be furious if they realised the extend to Alex's knowledge of this particular project."Embryonic implants." The surgeon tried to back away but he was trapped in place by a tray of instruments."Where are the girls?" Alexei didn't react to the news. "How many guards are on them? What kind of locks are on the doors?""I don't know anything." He stalled. His hand groped cautiously after a scalpel behind his back. "The girls...they're through that door..." His free hand pointed, hoping for distraction. "To the right.""Butcher." Alex cursed coldly then fired once before turning his eyes to the patient. He had to sit his gun down and use both hands to unfasten the straps on the girl's arms and upper legs. "I'll be back when I'm able. Stay here." Alex soothed absently then picked his weapon back up.He started with a brief search of the doctor's body, turning up a key-chain and an access card. Alex then turned his attention to the room. He popped the top on the storage jar right by the operating table and pushed it over to spill the contents onto the floor. At the left wall he turned all the temperature controls off then unlatched the doors and let them swing open.A few vials were pocketed as were some of the papers off the nearby clipboards. More concoctions received a frown and Alexei dropped them to smash on the tile. When he was finally satisfied with the level of destruction, Alex took a moment to extract and open his cell phone. He needed to be quick because the action required that he set down his gun once more. Mulder's number came easy. As soon as the other man answered Alex snapped. "Call out the cavalry. We have confirmation." He disconnected abruptly to prevent having to give details. The far door wasn't locked either. What amateurs this faction was rife with. Morley or Gentry wouldn't have tolerated the sloppy security if this project had fallen under their control. Alex used the keys from the doctor's pocket to let himself into the first holding cell, carefully closing the door behind himself. A girl, cowering at the back of the tiny room, squeaked in surprise."It's okay. I'm here to help." He needed to be sure she wouldn't cause trouble while he monitored the hallway through the slit of a window in the door. "Do you know Allegra? Have you seen her since they took you?""Allegra." Frightened eyes narrowed in suspicion. "She was first. They wheeled her by on a table." The girl supplied softly, then shrank back at the expression the news had brought to his face."No mercy." Alex turned back to the door. That's when the lights went out. Some tiny portion of Alexei's brain registered that maybe an alarm had been tripped or that Li Ann had shut down the power to invalidate the fence. Unfortunately his overpowering reaction to the sudden darkness was oil-flavoured panic.By the time Alex registered the faint emergency lighting from the hallway and a girl's voice in his ear his throat felt like raw hamburger and a wet chill had spread down the front of his black jeans."Oh please god. Calm down. Please it's just the dark." The teenager patted his face at a frantic tempo. "Breath. Slow down and breath." She pleaded.Alex struck the hand away, disgusted with himself. He swallowed several long breaths then croaked. "My gun?""You dropped it. Jesus Christ, Mister." She sat back on her heels.Alexei realised that he'd crumpled into a heap against the door. His eyes were burning so he had to feel around for the fallen pistol. "Mo'i pizdoi nakrylsja." Alexei's shaking hand found and grasped the grip of his gun. His adrenaline levels were peaked out and he needed to overpower the stink of fear with something else. Blood seemed a logical choice under the circumstances. "Stay here." Alex warned the girl, twisting the silencer off his weapon. "You might get hurt out there.""You can't leave me in here." She protested."The FBI is coming. Keep your head down and they'll get you out of here." Alex double-checked his two back-up guns were in easy reach then went out into the hallway. A fire alarm switch on the wall proved too strong a temptation. The shrieking clang it activated would bring plenty of targets to him.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|Mac had popped out the tape he'd been copying files to when the power went down. There hadn't been enough time to get much but some of it might be valuable. The box of discs out of the locked drawer below the printer was also worth taking. Mac unfolded the satchel he'd brought and piled a few paper files that he discovered by flashlight and extracted with his handy lock-pick.The sound of an alarm and the ensuing gunfire halted his ransacking the plush office. Mac wasn't surprised to discover the blasts were coming from the direction Alex had taken. Hitching his swag bag across his back, Mac drew his own weapon and lit out in the direction of the noise.The corridor was annoyingly bent in the wrong direction. Mac tried to trace the gunshots but the floor plan fought his every move. He ended up cutting through a room and out a second door on the far wall. As he neared the source of the commotion Mac slowed down to look for targets of his own. Hurrying toward the disturbance, the guard didn't register Mac's lurking presence until it was too late. Stepping over the body didn't slow the tall thief down by much.The shots trailed off then completely ceased by the time Mac reached the end of the hallway. He got there in time to see Alex step close and deliver a mercy shot at close range to a writhing figure on the floor. The Russian was splattered with blood. It showed up as damp stains on his dark clothing. Alex lifted his face to expose a devil's grin. A hand wiped across his cheek leaving a smear of red behind like a primitive decoration."Baby." Alexei lunged across the divide and stole a breathtaking kiss from his lover.Mac had to physically shove the other man off him. "Jeez Alex, go figure you're timing. What about the girls? Allegra?""Along here somewhere." Alexei shook himself, unsuccessfully trying to settle his nerves down to normal human levels. He ejected his clip and with some difficulty put in a fresh one. He frowned. "They've done something to her." Alex tossed over the keys. "Spring them all. I'll stand watch.""You all right?" Mac counted up the bodies he could see and reached the disturbingly high number of seven."I'm just fine. Don't worry. Li Ann let the reinforcements through the fence with her..." The barrel of his gun gestured absently, indicating the low light. "...little trick. Oh, if you see my other gun on the floor back there, grab it. I dropped it when the ammo got low."Mac nodded and headed for the nearest door. He opened it with the second key he tried, then had to duck a two handed blow from the girl waiting inside. "Easy. Easy. We're going to take you out of here. We're the good guys."The words earned him a sullen glare, but at least she backed away. "Give me a hand, okay? The other girls know you." Mac jangled the key ring and backed out of the barren cell.Alex glanced up from searching the bodies. "Scully's a doctor. Some of them may need her." He called down the corridor. Mac and his helper liberated three more prisoners before Li Ann padded out of the shadows. Alex inflicted one of his patented toe curling kisses on the woman and it earned him a swat across the back of the head, much to Mac's satisfaction. As soon as Alexei directed the oriental woman to another door Mac turned back to the business at hand.There was another brief cough of gunfire in the distance, suggesting Mulder, Scully and Victor were in the area. Alex shot the ceiling to lead them in the right direction."Hey...Guy." One of the Leadership Corp girls shouted. "This looks bad." Her crooked finger lead Mac to a cell that was more crowded than all the others had been. Allegra lay on a wheeled cot with several pieces of equipment wired to her. One arm was flailing weakly, shaking some of tubing.Mac ran to her side, pushing aside the girl who had released the restraint. "Allegra...easy girl." He took hold of her hand. "It's Mac." Leaning over to put his face where she could easily see it. "Your brothers are here. You must have known they'd come for you, babe. It's going to be okay."A vague noise of agreement escaped the prone girl. "Heard shots." Allegra grated out."Just our Lexi popping off the bad guys, doll. Doing what he does best." Mac examined her carefully. "What did they do to you Allegra?""Cut me open." She whispered. "Above my hips."A roar of voices lifted outside the door, with shouts of 'Alice' overpowering the rest."Moose." "Sounds like." Mac agreed. "Lay still and I'll fetch him here." He pushed past the milling knot of girls to where the shouting emanated from."You've killed everyone!" Mulder accused."They pissed me off." Alexei excused the body count lightly, edging up to place himself right in the Agent's personal space. "They hurt Allegra. I got angry. This...hey it's what I do.""You despicable excuse for..."Mulder never got to finish that particular insult. Mac should have seen it coming. He'd already registered Alex's hyped up mood.Alexei's gloved hand seized a handful of Mulder's chestnut hair to hold him still then yanked him into an open-mouthed kiss. Mulder's clenched fist flexed and lifted, as if to push, but ended up grasping the midnight fabric of Alex's vest. A wrenching whimper of a noise escaped Mulder's throat.Mac narrowed the distance in five strides. "ALEXEI, NO!" The younger man slammed them apart. He shoved Alex where his shoulder turned artificial, intending to cause pain. "Don't you do this to me, you bastard." Mac nearly screamed, not even certain himself who he was yelling at.Alexei's teeth bared in a snarl. Mulder stood in stunned disbelief, his head shaking in denial of what had just happened."They called for backup, Alex." Victor walked over to his twin. His voice was a steadying influence. "Get out of here Alex. The Feds will toss your ass in jail if you're still here when they arrive. We'll work out a cover story for this easier if you're not here when they show up. Maybe Mulder and Scully could them they mistook me for you...and fingerprints will clear me." Victor caught Alexei's chin and forced him to look away from Mac and Mulder. "Go. We'll be home soon."The Russian nodded, turning his back on the whole crowd. "I'll see you later, my Love." His voice drifted back, giving absolutely no indication of which man he was speaking to. "It's time to make some choices." The dim light swallowed up the dark figure."Sadistic bastard." Li Ann commented from near the wall where she stood supporting a dizzy teenager.Fox Mulder sat in his car for a long time watching the massive old house and trying to decide what he wanted to do. He watched the yard crew that had been working on the landscaping pack up and leave. He observed Li Ann's arrival home. She looked weary from a long day's work.All three floors were now lit up although it was hard to say if they were all inhabited. No one had moved near the windows of the upper level during the entire time Mulder had sat there.His coffee was stone cold. The sandwich he'd taken one bite of had gone hard. The bag beside him was mostly empty. The sunflower husks were overflowing another, previously empty, coffee cup. The files he had coaxed Scully and the Gunmen into helping him build were strewn across the front seat. Those sheaths of paper held a wealth of information. It told him that a company called Roman Enterprises held the mortgage on the house he was watching, as well as a number of small businesses all across the country. The closest of those companies was based in downtown Atlantic City. They installed and maintained security systems, of all things. Their customers included banks, private homes, and dealers of sensitive knowledge and materials all over the north-eastern coast.Mulder had to laugh at that. Alex Krycek and his pet thieves were protecting other people's money and secrets.Four people were supposed to live in the massive brick structure across the street and shared management responsibility for 'Roman Security'; Alex and Victor Roman, Li Ann Sai, and Mackenzie Rameriez, a quartet of New Yorkers.There was no way that the bland, unremarkable paper trails that those four names were linked to were anything more than pure fiction. Still, the identities were impressive in how solidly they were constructed.Most of the scattered sheets beside Mulder concerned 'Roman Enterprises' and it's complex connecting maze of parent and sister corporations. So far Mulder and his helpers had managed to turn up three more members of the Roman clan. Nicole, Stacey and Mary Roman had been unearthed leading the helm of some branches or otherwise working for the web of companies. At last check-in Frohike was attempting to chase down info on a couple more Roman women.Mulder couldn't help but wonder if all those people existed or if they were just spare identities waiting to be used. It also seemed strange that Krycek appeared to be working with an all-female syndicate this time, except for his thief friends of course.Considerably more relevant to the problem at hand were two other, smaller files. Mulder had heard Alex call Mac 'Ramsey' just once. That was enough. Langly had taken that name, a casual reference to Hong Kong and three hours of hacking to turn up a completely different history for the man calling himself Mackenzie Rameriez. Malcolm 'Mac' Ramsey was last known as a thief under the control of a Hong Kong crime family called the Tangs. He had been a street rat of a kid taken in by the Tangs when he was twelve. Ramsey had usually worked with another adopted kid, Li Ann Tsei, and the now-deceased heir to the Tang Family, Michael. The foreign police had them down as suspects in a multitude of Far Eastern and European break and enters but Ramsey was the only one they'd ever managed to imprison. Somehow, not explained in Langly's research, Ramsey had vanished from a high security prison without a ripple of complaint or explanation. Li Ann Tsei had disappeared from Hong Kong the year before that.So far Langly hadn't turned up any sign of what they had been up to in the meantime, but Christmas of 1997 marked Alex Roman and the trio's arrival in Atlantic City according to the accounts of a great many local businesses and a real estate agent's records.Scully had gone off in another direction, north. Considering how Victor and Alex had kept calling Allegra Mansfield their sister, Scully had done some looking into the young kidnap victim's family. The Canadian girl had three older half-brothers on record as a result of her parents' marriage. One, Victor Mansfield, formerly Victor Warden before his mother's marriage, immediately caught Scully's curious attention. He was born in Japan of American parents while the father was touring there for political reasons. The father was killed in what appeared to be a robbery when Victor was eleven. The mother rather quickly remarried an extremely wealthy Canadian businessman. Police records showed trouble with Victor running away from home several times during his teens. The young man left for good as soon as was legal. He became a Vancouver cop with a better than average record until Mansfield was fingered in an internal affairs investigation and prosecuted. Again, the vanishing act took place. One day he was in solitary confinement after a fight in the prison exercise room, the next he was gone, without a single complaint or explanation.Mulder frowned up at the house as a silhouette passed by one of the ground floor windows. That would most likely be Victor considering the level it was at, but the outline was enough like Krycek's to make Mulder tense up. Victor's sister was still in the hospital. She was in stable condition and seemed it good health except for the unexplained pregnancy. Allegra might make a decent excuse for calling on Victor at least. It's not like anyone else would come to question the man further about the incident. The trio had made themselves scare as soon as possible, after cooking up a tale of being hired by an outside source as private investigators on the case. None of them had made mention of Victor and Allegra's connection to anyone official or in the reports they had filed. Mulder pushed open the car door. Crossing the street nearly worked the kinks that sitting so long had formed in his legs.There were four bell buttons beside the impressive front door. They were labelled without any personality; basement, first floor, second floor and third floor. Mulder wasted another three minutes deciding which one he really wanted to press, then convincing himself to lift his finger and commit to the act."Talk to me." The grilled speaker box was pleasantly clear."It's Agent Mulder. Can I come in?"The silence was almost long enough to send Mulder away but Victor's voice came again before the other could step off the porch. At least Mulder hoped it was Victor's voice. "I'll be there in a second." An inside door thumped open and the deadbolt clacked as it unlocked.Victor swung open the door, caught Mulder's gaze and placed a finger to his own lips. "Shh." The outside door had to be carefully re-locked behind them before Victor gestured Mulder into his apartment. "Voices carry in the stairwell." He explained once they were inside. After a moment's consideration and a frown Victor flipped the bolt on his own door. "You've got a lot of nerve coming here Agent Mulder." The younger man picked up a remote to turn off an old John Wayne movie. "What do you want, Alex's stuff? Mac tossed what he didn't trash down in the basement. He didn't ruin anything too valuable though. I thought he restrained himself rather well."Fox Mulder stood in silent confusion. "What are you talking about, Roman?"Victor's face twisted. "We many not be exactly buddies but I'd prefer Victor...or maybe 'hey guy', rather than Roman.""Not used to the new name yet?" Mulder couldn't help himself from sounding a bit sarcastic. Alex Krycek's face brought out the worst in him, even when someone else was wearing it. "Would you prefer Mansfield?"Victor shrugged, snagging a half-empty beer bottle from the end table. "That's no magic trick. You traced back through Alice. I'd be disappointed if you hadn't scoped out the info. You seem bright enough.""We traced right back to a dirty cop." Mulder had been mildly surprised by the discovery. Scully had actually seemed disappointed. "Must be something wrong at the genetic level with you boys."Victor lowered the bottle. "First of all, it was a frame-up. My unit was dirty and I wouldn't play along so they set me up. Secondly, I don't know who the hell you think you are but I won't take this kind of bullshit from you. I'm not Alex. Now behave like a civilised guest or get the fuck out of my house." The ex-cop growled then drew in a calming breath. "Speaking of manners, where are mine? Would you like a beer, Agent Mulder, or are you on duty?"The federal agent blinked twice, digesting the difference between the man he knew and this lookalike. "Just Mulder. I'm sorry...and yeah, a beer sounds like a good idea. Thanks."Victor headed into the kitchen, returning with an unfamiliar brown bottle."Canadian beer?" Mulder looked over the label. That made sense considering the other man's country of origin."I miss a lot of things." Victor mused aloud. "Colour on my money, for example. I keep mixing up your ruddy American bills. I miss decent sports on the tube...my truck...lots of stuff." He smiled faintly. "This beer I can get without too much hassle. I might as well drink it." Victor took a swig from his bottle. "So, what do you want...Mull-dhar." The name came out with a faint slur that immediately reminded Mulder of Alex in mid-flirt. It was a weird sensation that made Mulder want to smack the other man or at least demand an explanation. The Agent attempted to discreetly study Victor as he spoke. "We could talk about your sister.""She's still in the hospital. The doctors come up with new tests every fifteen minutes, I swear. I was there this morning." Victor almost laughed, low in his throat. "Alice pregnant...the mind boggles. She's still trying to decide what to do...about the thing...the baby. It's just a regular baby, at least according to the ultrasounds it is." He shook his head. "But if you want to discuss Alice...you should go to the source, not to me. I'm not even listed as her relative on paper." He dropped into the dark green recliner near the fireplace. "What do you really want?"Mulder fidgeted. "About Krycek?""Is he all right?" Victor looked concerned. "This separation is tearing us up. I wish you'd tell him to call Li Ann or me. Would you? We need to hash this out with him, not through you."The Agent shook his head. "What are you talking about? I need you to tell Krycek that I want to talk to him. Somewhere...on neutral ground.""But isn't Alex with you?" Victor leaned forward. "We haven't heard from him since the break-in. We assumed he was with you these last few days. Mac said Alex had decided on you.""Decided on me for what?" The older man quizzed. "He lives here, doesn't he?"Victor let loose a string of oaths. "Three days and we didn't even know he was missing. Oh damn." Dark green eyes closed for a moment and the panic on his face dampened to worry. "Okay. Step by step. Did Alex contact you at all after the break-in, Mulder?""Not a word."Victor sat down his beer and scrounged up the portable phone. He stabbed in enough numbers for an international call. "Maybe you should go get Li Ann, Mulder. She's on the second floor."Fox Mulder unconsciously rubbed his ribs, recalling his first meeting with an angry Li Ann. "I'll wait for you." That woman was dangerous.Victor's expression had gone distant. "Nyet. Stop. In English, please. It's Victor. Where's Nicki?" He frowned at the phone. "Which one are you, Kate?" He guessed wrong. "Hey Cathers...do you girls know where Alexei is? We've lost track of him these last few days."Mulder listened carefully. "We thought he was with...someone, but it turns out he isn't." Victor explained. "When did he last check in?" He nodded. "Did he say anything about where he was headed?" An impatient sigh. "So ask her.""Who are you talking to?" Mulder questioned."The family." Victor hedged. "Yeah Cathers, it's important. Interrupt her then...who's Peter? No, Alex didn't tell us she'd taken in someone new. Fine. Fine. Tell Nicki to call me back when she finishes with the new kid. Bye... sorry. Okay then. Das svedanya, Cathers." He clicked off."Your family is upper class, white bread, Canadian. No ethnic overtones, certainly not Russian." Mulder recited from the file. "Who were you talking to?"Victor took a few long moments to examine the man in front of him. "They're Alex's family, our new family." Considering the information the Agent had probably kicked up already, Victor doubted this was breaking news. "The Romans. They've sort of adopted us. Nicki's acquired quite the clan over the years that way.""So his real name IS Alex Roman? Mulder's eyes were drawn to the portrait on the table again this visit. He stared down at it. "But only you get to be a Roman, out of three of you, Victor? Why not Li Ann and...him?" Mulder's distaste for Mac bordered on unreasonable. He didn't completely understand it himself."Genetics, I suppose. Twins sort of have to have the same last name or our clients and employees would find it odd." Victor glanced at the ceiling. "I should get Li Ann."Mulder picked up the frame. "She's some kind of pivot point for you three guys, isn't she? But Li Ann, she's not...attached to any of you." He frowned. That wasn't the phrasing he wanted. He didn't mean to sound like he was fishing for a date with the oriental woman."We're all ATTACHED to one another, but yeah...all three of us had... relationships with her at one point. We still do, but it's just not exactly romantic any more. Her and Mac, they grew up together. She's my best friend." Victor tilted his head to one side. "Alex, well, he trusts her. That's a big thing for him. They have these intense, middle of the night, conversations. She's his psychiatrist." Victor smiled at his own observation.Mulder nodded, almost seeing that in the photograph. The way Krycek leaned back against the woman spoke of a certain amount of dependence, although there was a hint of sensuality in the connection too."I should go get her." Victor repeated, but he still made no move to the door. Mulder shook off the mood that was tearing at him. "You all disappeared. Victor Mansfield stopped leaving paper records in 1992. You vanished right out of the Canadian penal system. Li Ann Tsei was taken into protective custody then ceased to exist. Mac Ramsey went to jail and never came out." The Agent reiterated from the records. "I'm assuming you all ended up in the same place...maybe some kind of shadow ops group. Would you care to fill in a few details?""I may be out of it, but I'm not completely disloyal to my former employers. They did fair by me for a time, better than they did for the others actually." Victor excused. "It's classified. If you don't know...then you're not supposed to know." Another brief smile took the sting out of the denial of information."Was it legal?" Mulder surprised himself by how much he wanted to believe Victor was one of the good guys."Barely, but yeah, I think it was legal." Victor gazed at Mulder for time studying the other man, then lifted his darkly outlined green eyes once more. "I should get Li Ann.""So you keep saying." Mulder sat down his untouched drink and prowled around the living room, strangely uneasy in Victor's proximity. "Doesn't Krycek disappear all the time?" He changed the subject "You seemed a bit too disturbed. He doesn't strike me as a particularly consistent person.""Alex usually tells us before he takes off...and Nicki always knows where his is, in a rather general sense, if nothing else. If Nicki doesn't have a clue on his location, then he's in trouble." Victor watched as the other man browsed through his CD collection then picked up and flipped open a book from the shelf. The Agent was mixing him up with Alex again, to act so brazenly rude and not expect any complaint. "You honestly don't realise how Alex feels about you, Mulder? Our Alexei is not subtle about his sexual affections." Victor verbally stabbed, partially to punish the other's ill-mannered behaviour and partially out of sincere curiosity.The book slammed shut. "Krycek..." Mulder winced. "It's a long story." He knew how weak that sounded. "Krycek is a lying, murdering, son of a bitch." The words were strong, but the solid assurance wasn't there."He's my brother.""Too bad for you then." Mulder slapped down the hardcover volume with enough force to rattle the shelf. "You don't understand him. I don't claim he's...a misguided innocent. I know he's waded in a lot of serious crap over the years." Victor argued very calmly. "But within certain boundaries Alex is fanatically consistent and dedicated. Has he ever hurt you Mulder?" The eruption of Mulder's complaints was forestalled with an open palm. "I'm talking tangible, physical harm from his hands to your body?"Mulder's mouth opened but the words were slow to emerge. "He set me up to...""Alex has different moral boundaries than we do. I'm talking physical harm from his own hands." Victor repeated the specification."He knocked me down and took my gun." Was the best Mulder was able to come up with. "But he's caused deaths and pain enough. He's evil Victor, or at least morally bankrupt.""But you fucked him anyway?" Victor played an ace. "Or did he do you?"Mulder flinched. That whole trip through Russia and everything that lead up to it tangled up his soul whenever he thought about it. "It was a weird situation...a mistake. It didn't stop Krycek from betraying me either.""But you're here...now...looking for him again. Why?" Victor asked.Mulder dropped onto the sofa. "Damned if I know."Victor sighed. "Christ. I swear to God I'm going to swipe his soap, after-shave and clothes one of these days." The ex-cop laughed. "We look exactly alike but he's got nearly everyone he meets banging on his bedroom door and the last time I brought someone home was over three months ago." The complaint held a note of amusement. "Or maybe I just have to stop being a nice guy. Nice just isn't sexy.""That's just not true, Victor." Mulder blurted out then stared down at his feet. "Jeez. Sorry." Sweat-spiked, untidy brown hair shook. "I don't know where my brain has gone this week." He stared at the other man, shrugging."I'm not Alex." Victor straightened up. "Don't flirt with Alex while you're with me, Mull-dhar. It pisses me off." He warned, walking over to the entrance hall. The low, husky pronunciation had returned. "You're not what I expected." Victor disappeared into the entranceway, calling back. "I'm going to get Li Ann." The portal slammed shut.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|Alex lifted his head slowly, feeling the results of a least one hard knock on the head and a lot of rough handling. Slick fabric wrapped around his head covering his eyes. His stomach was twisting with hunger and the after-effects of a drug he couldn't recall taking.Alex was sitting up, fastened to some kind of chair by duct tape if the nerves in his good wrist were reading it right. His ankles were restrained as well but his socks dulled the sensation of what held him. Most likely it was more tape by the width of it.No gag. He licked his lips, tasting blood and a hint of lipstick. There was little sound but the distant rush of air through vents and his own breathing. There was the faintest suggestion of electrical humming from not too far away.The last thing he remembered was sitting in the booth of that Toronto cafe waiting for the contact that was supposed to give him ten thousand dollars for a disc he had liberated from an office in New York. He'd been so careful. Not picking out the diner until five minutes before he'd set up the meet. He'd cased the joint before going in, watched for any odd behaviour from the waitress, kept his wits about him. Fuck. The coffee was probably responsible for his passing out since he hadn't touched anything else. Still, that didn't explain the lipstick.A gentle whoosh warned him that a door had opened a few feet away. It closed again promptly. Alexei inhaled. One expensive perfume, a Chanel fragrance, and fresh soap with cheap herbal shampoo mixed in. He heard two sets of heels and the faint squeak of hinges and leather.Someone, the perfumed one, bent into his personal space. Alex felt long, soft hair brush against his face. He kept his silence, waiting. It wasn't likely the consortium, that was quite the old boys club as far as he knew, except for Marita and she was out of action at the moment. Besides it was the wrong perfume."I don't like to be threatened Xander." She whispered into his ear. "You made me so angry that I wasted valuable resources I've been saving for a rainy day to reel you in. Aren't you flattered, darling?""Enjoy it while it lasts, M'sera." Alex was annoyed to recognise her voice. His trio's former boss shouldn't have been able to move quickly enough to set up the trap that had caught him. He had underestimated her, a fatal error perhaps. That the mission had come to him top priority, straight from Nicki, bothered him more than he dared show. "Let me go now and I may not feel the need to trash your whole staff.""Liar." She accused. "Murderer. Kidnapper." She kissed his cheek. "I'm extremely cross with you, my pretty leather baby." Fingernails tickled up his jaw, stopping behind his left ear. "I want my people back...willingly. I want you to stay away from them." The Director shifted to straddle his lap. "And of course, I should punish you for your little...stunt.""In your dreams.""You killed Porterguard.""He was running with a nasty crowd, M'sera. He got into bed with...then crossed the consortium. I was doing my job. You know that."The Director ran a finger across his mouth. "I want my team back.""They won't come willingly. They're mine now." He argued calmly."He is like, so, not Victor." Jackie's voice grated from the far side of the room, providing her identity."Yes, Xander is such a special boy." The Director agreed. "Where have you stashed my team?"Alex turned his face away from her intrusive caresses. She responded by running her tongue up one side of his face."So what's the deal with this guy, Boss?" Jackie had changed position again, circling him. "Xander first turned up as a party favour at a rather exclusive gathering I attended years ago...in the late eighties, wasn't it Xander?" She smiled at his complete lack of response. "One of my mentors had escorted me there. A close friend of his, another Director, took a fancy to the dear boy and brought him back from Europe. Porterguard was such a generous soul when it came to entertaining. I spent the better part of the next two months in Xander's...proximity...sharing some quality time in the process. Xander disappeared one day while his lover was at work without any explanation. Porterguard was absolutely devastated. I was...disappointed. You were such a delectable playmate.""Wild." Jackie commented."Imagine my distress when that same docile pet showed up a few years later to assassinate Porterguard ...the Agency's senior East coast Director. Xander also managed to escape the country unharmed, badly damaging several of our best operatives along the way.""Your Agency was getting ready to clean the bastard anyway. I was doing you a favour." Alexei defended."By stealing restricted files? We know you copied out his entire database while he lay bleeding to death on the floor, Xander. There was a surveillance camera. The entire assassination was taped. That good-bye kiss you gave him...was distinctly sadistic." The Director swatted the side of his head. "Naughty boy." She considered her captive. "Play nice now, Xander or I shall be forced to do something quite unpleasant to you. Where is my team?""Out of your reach." He crossed bluntly.She rose to her feet. "I could turn you over to the Americans...former Agent Krycek...or perhaps the French. They were rather eagerly searching you out back in '95." The Director unfastened his blindfold and let it fall away.The room was almost barren. Besides the two people and the chair he sat on all Alex could see was a small video camera on a tripod. That's how they had known he was awake. The door was a blank panel set in the wall with no handle or hinges in sight."Which way should we go, pain or drugs?" The Director mused aloud. "Considering what I know of your history pain wouldn't be the ideal tool to convince you to share your secrets with us. So, how about we start with a few little chemical persuaders and if that doesn't work...I've a doctor who'd like to take a run at you."Jackie dropped into a crouch and setting her satchel on the floor, she popped it open. A wicked looking needle was extracted."I sent them to Hong Kong." Alexei blurted out at his first look inside the bag. His long-term, carefully engineered chemical alterations protected him from a lot of truth drugs, but it didn't hurt to throw up other screens as well."Liar.""But Victor wasn't happy so they headed out to London in April." Alex continued. "No wait. I'm mixed up. Li Ann's with Victor in California and I took Mac to my Mom's place in Russia. We're getting married next spring, a garden wedding. Mom just adores him."Jackie's expression showed her confusion at their captive's sudden admissions. "What's up with this?""No really. They ditched me, all of them. So I was going to shadow Allegra for the week and see who turned up." Alex offered yet another scenario."If he tells us enough lies..." The Director explained. "He thinks we won't realise the difference when he switches to the truth. A nice try, but futile for the most part. Still, I'm impressed. Have you been tortured before, Xander?""Yes. No. I saw this in a movie. No, I've got it. A shadowy government agency trained me for this eventuality.""Brat." The Director paced over to Jackie's supplies and selected a vial. "This one first."Alex watched as the Director filled then tapped the air out a needle. "I've a lot of allergies, M'sera. What's in that?""Home brew." She didn't elaborate. "Don't worry, baby. There's a doctor standing by for when you go into convulsions."\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^Li Ann had to use a key to get into Mac's apartment. She searched the quiet flat, finding evidence of a few partially eaten meals on the kitchen counter.Her ex-boyfriend lay in the dimly lit bedroom, half-dressed and staring at the ceiling. Mac acknowledged her presence with a brief glance."Mac." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "Mulder is downstairs, at Victor's." Li Ann dove right to heart of it. "He's looking for Alex because he hasn't seen him since the break-in.The narrow face turned her way. "What?""Alex didn't leave you for Mulder, Mac." Li Ann clarified. "He's missing.""FUCK!" Mac sat straight up."Victor's waiting for Nicki to call back. She might know where he's gone. Don't get too upset yet." Li Ann touched his leg. "Get dressed and come downstairs...if you want to.""Have you tried Alex's cell phone?" Mac scrapped his short curly hair into some semblance of order, realising it was limp and greasy."No service, out of range, or turned off." Li Ann's nose crinkled. "Maybe you should shower first.""But...yeah, I guess."She nodded, climbing to her feet. "Don't borrow trouble Mac. Nicki most likely sent him somewhere.""He would have called." The tall man argued. "He hasn't been cruel, not lately.""What do you call that shit he pulled in the hallway?" Li Ann was a much better acquainted with the boundaries of Alexei's loyalty to them. The devotion was extensive and intensely emotional, but it had very specific limitations. "I cornered him, it got his back up." Mac excused his temperamental lover. "That's just one of ways he defends himself. You should know that, Li Ann."She sighed then broke into a smug smile. "You really should come downstairs. It's quite the floor show they're putting on."Mac stopped at the bathroom door. "Pardon?"Li Ann laughed softly. "Mulder and Victor...it takes some attention to detail. I'm not even sure it's a conscious thing." She teased, delaying until he began to look impatient. "They're flirting.""Whoa! Back up the bus. Victor is flirting with the Fibbie, or is it the other way around? What's Mulder doing, bitch smacking Victor?" Mac's opinion of the Agent's technique was bleak."It's mutual and terribly subtle. Mulder keeps pacing around, sort of on display. Victor's got one of those long neck beer bottles of his and he's drinking it for effect. At least that how it looks. It's mostly glances and posing."Mac glowered. "This should make me happy, but it doesn't.""I'm not even sure they realise they're doing it. Guys aren't usually Victor's first choice. He could just be messing with Mulder's head...knowing how it is between the Fed and Alex. Although, he may be serious. You might not think so Mac, but except for that nose, Mulder's a elegant piece of work." His partner inclined her head and grew serious. "You think the Fed will hurt Victor?" She guessed."You saw him with Alex." Mac un-knotted the tie on his trackpants. "That's hardly a healthy relationship.""Oh please. Don't get high holy with me, Mac. I know the paces you put Alex through yourself. I've seen the marks where he's struggled against restraints...and worse. For pity's sake, my bedroom is right below yours." She shook her head. "He confides in me, Mac. I wish the pair of you would actually talk more often. There's things you should know about what you and Lexi do." Li Ann almost bit her tongue at that slip. Alex would be pissed if he knew she'd said this much."What we do is consensual." Mac defended. "Alexei wants rough trade.""Which is exactly what Mulder was giving him...in a rather less sexual fashion than you." Li Ann reasoned. "I'll reserve judgement until he and Victor do more than preen and show." She withdrew from the bedroom.Mac got cleaned up and dressed in record time. Pulling on some simple off-the-rack clothes to distance himself. Mac had no desire to look like Mulder today. All of the European designer suits had been tossed in a heap during a temper tantrum when Mac woke the morning after the break-in and Alex still hadn't returned.Mac padded gently down the stairs and opened Victor's door with extreme care. He edged in the hallway wanting a chance to study the scene before they noticed his arrival.Mulder was leaning, back to the windowsill, biting his bottom lip. The Agent was listening to Li Ann while his eyes shot all over the room, flickering Victor's way more often than not. Victor sat on the edge of his favourite chair with his legs slightly spread. As Li Ann had said, the beer bottle's neck was rubbing an intriguing path up and down Victor's jawline.Li Ann was talking about Hong Kong. "...didn't get to know him very well. Our foster father didn't approve of me dating outside our circle so Alex and I had to stay pretty low profile." The oriental woman shrugged."But you know him best of all of us now, Li Ann." Victor said firmly. "Probably better than anyone has for a long time.""That's not exactly right." She countered. "All three of us...we just get different sides of him. You get the best of his daytime self, his family face. Me...well. It's easy for Alex to strip himself emotionally at three AM in complete darkness. Especially after Mac's just put him through the wringer, physically. "Mulder frowned.Victor shook his head. "Let's stay away from Alex and Mac's sex life, thank you very much."The phone rang right then, making all of them jump in surprise."Maybe you should talk to her." Victor suggested to Li Ann. "She respects you.""But she likes you." Li Ann crossed. "Answer it Victor."He pushed the button and lifted the phone to his face. "Yes."Mac slipped the rest of the way into the room. He completely ignored the federal agent, choosing to lean on the sofa back, behind Li Ann. Victor winced at whatever he heard over the telephone. "I'm sorry Nicki, but we're worried about Alex." He kept his voice even, not wanting to whine like Alexei sometimes did when the Russian talked to his foster mother. "When was that? Shouldn't he be done by now?"Mac let one hand rest on Li Ann's shoulder."Can you at least give me a city and a day?" Victor asked, then paused. "Nicki, he wouldn't have stayed in New York this long without a good reason. He would have checked in by now." Victor sighed. "I'm worried, Nicki. No I don't think he's gotten side-tracked boffing someone in the city. There was some heavy stuff happening here at home."Li Ann hit her limit. She stood up, crossed the rug and took the phone. "Nicki, Li Ann. Tell us his mission, please. This is important." Her tone was nearly a growl. "Uh huh. Yes. What was he swiping? Yes. Who was the connection?" Li Ann's back was stiff. "How solid is that contact?" Her lip curled. "We need to track him down, Nicki. Outline the trail for me." She sighed. "Dead serious. Lexi had some things happening that he would have hurried home for. You must have got the full 'I don't want to go' treatment when you ordered him out of town. Yeah, I thought so."Mac dug his fingers into he fabric of the couch.Li Ann grabbed after paper and a pen to scribble down information. "And he hasn't checked in since? Could you E-mail us Truman's file Nicki, please. We'll throw some gear together, then we're going to New York." She hesitated a moment. "Nicki, Mulder is with us. I just thought you should know." Li Ann pulled the phone away from her ear in surprise.The words coming through the connection were loud enough that the whole room could make out the woman's annoyance.Victor took the portable back as the outburst subsided. "How about we get Alex home first then deal with everything else." He suggested calmly. "We'll keep you informed. Yeah. Das Vadanya, Nicki." Victor sat the phone down. "Everybody throw a bag together. This might mean some travelling."Li Ann nodded. "Passports and cash." She reminded the others needlessly.Mac straightened. "If you'll excuse us Agent Mulder. We've got work to do.""I'm coming too." Mulder's feet were planted and he crossed his arms."Forget it Fibbie." Mac sneered. "You've no place in this.""Krycek owes me answers.""He might come in handy." Victor began.But Mac was quick to cut him off. "Just because you want..." The younger man drew in a calming breath. "I don't want this to get nasty Victor. Alex is our priority here and the Fed has other issues besides Alex's safe return.""I'll give you other issues." Mulder growled. "Try spending your time dodging a city wide warrant on the three of you in New York and see how much you get accomplished then?""Asshole." Mac snapped."I've a bag in my trunk. I won't slow you down." Mulder assured them. "I've just got to let Scully know where I'm going." He pulled his phone out of his jacket."Fucking wonderful." Mac headed for the door.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^Alexei fought awareness, fearful it would bring more questions and pain. Small mercy, he was flat on his back instead of fastened to that damned chair. No clothes. He vaguely recalled soiling them. He felt chest, forearm and leg restraints, made out of some harsh fabric this time. No blindfold. This place smelled like a hospital.Paper rustled off to Alexei's left. He closed his eyes and concentrated, dampening down on the pitch and roll of his stomach. Judging by the scent of her soap and shampoo, it was Jackie. No hint of the Director's perfume lingered in the room.Alex opened himself up to how awful he felt and drew on a few panic provoking memories to make it worse. He needed full access to the chemical soup that contaminated his body. Pain and panic were the fastest ways to coax his genetically altered chromosomes into producing high levels of his engineered pheromones. Instead of playing dead Alex twisted against the restraints, trying to hurt himself even more.Jackie's chair pushed back and she got up to stand beside the stretcher Alex lay on. "You've got one hell of an imagination, dude." The blonde held up a steno pad full of notes. "My favourite version was the one where Victor and Mac got abducted by aliens and Li Ann is in a New York mental ward three months pregnant with your baby. Way kewl."Alex kept his silence, intent on cutting the straps into his skin. Flowing blood would slick the bonds and intensify his body's manufactured attractiveness."Of course this..." Long nails flicked his nipple ring and the tiny tag that hung from it clinked gently. "...tells it's own story." Jackie observed. "Mac's demon." She quoted the engraving. "Bitchin'. So, like, you got a THING...happening with Mac? He's such a babe, isn't he."Alex stared up. His green eyes darkened to almost black by his efforts."The Director, she's checking out three of the least bizzaro stories you spewed out. She is like...rabid that you could still screw around with your story even after all the shots she gave you." Jackie giggled. "You should lay still. You're gonna hurt yourself." Fingers stroked across his chest and down his ribs. "Nice definition, but you don't look like Mac's type, y'know." Her touch lingered, playing.What little movement Alex had was now focused on straining up to Jackie's caress. The pheromone release worked both ways. It did make him more desirable to others, but it also got him painfully aroused. A whimper escaped when soft fingertips traced a lazy path across his stomach."Wow." Jackie giggled. "Yummy. This is, like, so nice a change from the first time we met...you think?""Jackie, please. Just give me my one hand. I want to touch you." Alex pleaded.She leaned over him. Her lengthy mane tumbled forward to curtain them from the room. Jackie brushed her mouth across his. "Duh. I may be blonde, but I'm not stupid. Lay still and enjoy the ride, hon." Sharp nails threaded into his hair, skimming the curve of Alex's skull. Jackie closed the distance for another kiss. Alexei turned the gentle touch of lips into something decidedly more savage. A throat clearing near the door broke them apart. Jackie startled backwards.The Director frowned at the pair of them, clucking her tongue. "Jackie dear. I thought you had better taste than this. Tsk.""He...I mean..." The blonde shook her head hard. "Fuck! What am I thinking?""You aren't, thinking, that is.""Son of a BITCH!" Alexei writhed in his bonds, frustrated along with everything else now. "We can deal, M'sera. LET ME UP!" The scream he was holding in underlaid the demand. "I can get you things...information.""The only thing I want from you is my team." The Director stayed well back. "Los Angeles was a complete wash out. There is no Rue Darche in Paris...so Victor and Li Ann aren't there." She complained. "And the superintendent of that building in New York has never heard of Andrew Arntzen or Mathew Ramsey.""Sans deconner!" Alex snapped, lapsing into French. "Pick another chip you want to bargain for connasse ...because they're MINE! You can't have them back." He thrashed, then whined when the strap holding his prosthetic arm down held tight while his shoulder shifted slightly. The internal connections between flesh and electronics strained painfully. Jackie gulped in a breath, flushing. "I need to...umm...go to the bathroom." The blonde fled the room."Xander..." The Director began."Alex, goddamit." He snarled. "After what that bastard did to me I never used Xander again. It creeps me out.""Alexander." She conceded. "Let's make a deal. Just give me Li Ann. You can keep the boys. That's a more than generous compromise." The Director drifted closer.Alexei shuddered, seeming to consider. "I can't M'sera. She's...Li Ann, her and Mac, they ditched me. I don't know where they went after New Orleans. I swear. I only know where Victor is...and I need him."Fingers pinched his bare leg. "You can't help it, can you Alexander? Every time your mouth opens lies just spill out." Her expression was severe. "They're together. I know it...all three of them.""Putain! No, no. This time it's the truth." His head shook. "I was sleeping with Mac. I fell into bed with Li Ann. They both freaked on me and split. If Vic hadn't stayed with me..." A sob escaped. "We've been looking for them ever since."Her hand pounded down on the mattress beside his head. "Damn it boy!"Alex let loose a strangled laugh. "The boy who cried wolf." He whimpered pathetically. "It's the truth this time, M'sera. I swear it is. Mac took off and Li Ann went chasing him.""Don't fuck with me, Xander.""I know you don't mean that, M'sera."Her jaw went tight and she backed away. "I'm not playing by your rules, Xander. You cheat. You always did." She accused. "Porterguard never realised it but I knew. You'd pick the lock on your cuffs and get into all kinds of crap when he was asleep or out of the house.""Just doing my job."She snorted. "I may not be able to keep my mind straight around your sweet lying tongue...but I've got just the men for the job flying in." The door slammed behind her.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|"Slouch a little Victor." Li Ann recommended then withdrew to a table within clear sight of the barstool Victor was perched on. She didn't want to leave the ex-cop alone but Mac and Mulder together at a table was just asking for trouble. Besides, Victor was attempting to impersonate his missing twin and Alex worked alone when dealing with Celeste Truman according to the file.Mulder was frowning at Mac. "I can tell he's not Krycek.""He's not tying to be Krycek." Mac sneered. "He's doing Andre Alexander." The younger man sounded superior. "You read the file."Mulder didn't look impressed. "It's the same damned person."Li Ann settled between the two men. "That's why you'll never understand Alex, Mulder. He's compartmentalised to a degree. He doesn't bring his work home. He can close off whole chunks of his past and set them aside if they aren't relevant to the image he's trying to project at the time.""Closing events off doesn't make what he's done disappear." Mulder argued. "The consequences have already torn through the surrounding situations...like ripples. If you knew the extent of...""Heads up." Mac interrupted. "That would be the target."A pleasantly rounded black woman in a non-descript grey suit rested a hand onto the shoulder of Victor's leather jacket. She settled onto the stool beside him while Victor ordered her a drink."Small mercy Alex keeps such careful records on his contacts." Li Ann said softly. "I can't wait until Nicki finishes the relocation. I'm looking forward to browsing through her database.""As if." Mac snorted. "Alex says Olga's paranoid protective of their contact files. You'd have to crawl a damn sight higher up the ladder before she'll trust you enough to let you free range through her repository...before she'll trust you...us...that far.""Who exactly are Nicki and Olga?" Mulder quizzed.The pair looked up in surprise, Mulder's presence at the table forcefully recalled to the attention."Our Aunt...and a cousin." Mac deadpanned. The younger man concentrated on Victor and the woman at the bar. "Should he be smoking...and flirting?"Victor accepted the offer of a cigarette then lit his companion's and his own with a flourish. Surprisingly enough, Victor handled the both the lighter and cigarettes like a man with experience.Li Ann nodded. "It's the exception to the separate personas rule. Alex flirts with everyone. Every single alias Alex adopts uses sex as a tool."Mulder made a strangled noise and sat back as far as his chair would allow. "Or a weapon." He muttered, half to himself.The three of them watched in silence for a short time while Victor attempted to wheedle information out of the contact. The ex-cop seemed fairly comfortable in the deception.After a half hour the woman kissed Victor on the cheek and departed. Victor then picked up his drink and paced over to the table that his partners were seated at."What did you get?" Mac prodded."She was surprised to see me so soon, but not shocked. I doubt she was in on the disappearance. I got the phone number for the next connection Alex made. Celeste helped him with some kind of computer related information theft. I couldn't get details without blowing the deception." Victor excused. "Here's the scary part. She got the impression that he was headed to Canada to finish the deal. She wanted to know if I'd been up there already or if I was on my way so I could smuggle something up.""Canada. So what?" Mulder asked."So soon after running into Jackie." Mac frowned. "That is an odd coincidence. But then Alex's guard would have been up all the higher because of it. How would they have taken him?""What's the big deal, Victor?" Mulder turned to the most sympathetic of the trio for an answer. "Krycek has a problem with the Mounties or something?"Victor hesitated, glancing at his partners for some sign of approval."Basic outline." Li Ann allowed."The Agency that we defected from is based in Canada. Alex ran into one of it's operatives the day Alice was kidnapped." Victor explained. "They could be involved.""A black ops organisation based out of Canada?" Mulder grimaced. "That's an X-file all by itself." His tone grew mocking. "Put the litter in the trash-can, sir, or I'll have to shoot you. Please and thank you." A bark of laughter escaped."Pok gai." Mac grumbled.Li Ann reluctantly nodded.Mulder sobered. "I looked that up." The Agent warned them.Victor's mouth was a tight line. He was undecided on how to take Mulder's comments on his adopted homeland. "So how do we find out if he made it across the boarder?" Getting back on topic seemed the safest route."Do we even need to bother?" Mac interjected. "This reeks of the Agency. Why don't we just go and get him out?""And if it isn't...or even if it is...It could be another branch handling the matter. Where do we go?" Li Ann reasoned. "Besides, that's just like pinning a great big bull's eye on ourselves and screaming 'come and get us' at the top of our lungs." Her head shook. "Another suggestion would be good." She looked to Victor."Our game of playing dead is toast." Victor held out his hand. "Give me your phone, Mulder." His own was in the car. "I'm going to try the direct approach.""So what's your story?" Mulder passed the cell phone over with a brief brush of fingers."What do you mean?""Do your employers know you three are together or are you going to try and convince them it's just you looking for Krycek?" Mulder elaborated."We don't know what Alex has told them." Li Ann pointed out."Alex Krycek is a deceitful little bastard who wouldn't know the truth if it slapped him in the face." Mulder's lip curled. "If they're smart they haven't believed a word he's said. He lies with every second sentence as a matter of habit."Victor looked as if he might argue, then shook his head and punched in the phone number for the Director's office."I wish I could listen in." Mac mumbled.Li Ann leaned, placing a finger against his lips. "They'll tape and filter this." She whispered then sat back to watch Victor."It's Mansfield." He announced dully into the mouthpiece. His lips twisted into a half a smile. "Well, I've been busy. I seem to have misplaced something a couple of days ago. Does she have it, Dobrinsky?" Victor asked, purposefully vague. "If you guys have it...you tell me what it is." He reasoned with the person on the other end of the line. "Yeah. Is he all right?"Mac's mouth started to open but Li Ann halted the vocalisation with a firm grasp on his wrist and a warning look."What's it going to take to get him back?" Victor asked, grimacing. "No can do. It's just me and Alex right now. I can't offer what I don't have."Li Ann nodded."Shit happens." Victor's voice was grim. "Ask Alex. He tells the story better than me. So...I want my brother back. What's the deal?" A few head nods later Victor mimed writing.Mulder passed over a pen and pad."I'll head in your direction. No way! I'll call back. When will she be in, Dobrinsky?" Victor questioned. "I've lost a lot of things in my life. You hurt Alex and I've got nothing left to lose. I'll make her pay for it." He threatened.Li Ann silently applauded the warning.Victor scribbled down some numbers. Something the other said made him frown at the phone. His dark head shook. "It seemed like the best idea at the time. It was what we needed to do. Yeah, I'm sorry too. Later." He disconnected. "Let's get out of this neighbourhood." Victor gave the phone back to Mulder. "Thanks.""Anything you need, Victor." Mulder flushed, realising he'd actually said that out loud and stood quickly."So where are we headed?" Mac interrupted the exchange of guilty glances."Vancouver. They want a meeting." Victor supplied. "We'll have to fly though, damn it all. Airport x-rays...we'll have to stash our pieces here in New York."No problem." Li Ann assured the others. "We'll stow our hardware here then call ahead and have Steven meet us at the airport to re-arm us. Alex told me where his weapons cache was and what his password is. Blondie will honour the codeword, even if he doesn't much like us."Mac frowned. "Alex didn't tell me anything about that.""You two never talk." Li Ann remarked. "You're too busy fucking each other raw then passing out." She scolded, faintly playful but half serious.Mulder glared and walked faster to distance himself from the conversation. After a breath Victor picked up speed to stay at the Agent's side.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|Alex was aware of the limits he could push his body to and he was teetering on the brink of the abyss now. He was hungry and painfully thirsty. His extremities had gone numb in the tight restraints. His head throbbed with the bright light burning into his eyes over the past few hours, but he had to admit a certain amount of gratitude for the torment. If someone turned off the light Alex was sure his sanity would have snapped. The door sliding open was both a threat and a relief.Alex shifted his eyes to gaze at the new, tougher interrogator that the Director had warned of. It had to be a mistake. There was no way his pride would let him break for such a sweaty faced, timid looking, scarecrow of a man."Victor..." The voice was hesitant. "Is that really you?" The new comer skittered over to the cot. "When they told me to stay out of here I knew it had to be something big...maybe wreckage from an alien craft or the larva of the new queen...but I didn't expect..." Eyes darted warily to the door and back. "Where have you been? Did they take you to the home hive?"Alex swallowed with some effort. A least it was a sympathetic nut-case. "Help me." The Russian managed to scratch out.The stranger was still muttering. "...eat my eyeballs but...hey. They cut your arm off, didn't they?" Trembling fingers probed the seam. Concern was obvious in the man's expression."Unfasten the straps." Alexei pleaded. "They're going to torture me." He threw what was left of his energy behind the request. "Please."The scarecrow shuffled foot to foot, chewing his lip. His fingers skated the skin of Alex's shoulder."Just undo the straps. No one will know you helped me. Please." Alexei squirmed. "I can make it worth your while." He wasn't sure what would be the most effective bribe with this man so he left it vague.Hands reached for buckles. "Can you get me an audience with the high council? Do you still have that kind of influence.""Get me out of here and I'll get you in anywhere you want to be. I swear." Alex promised."Things around here have been so strange since you disappeared." Shaking hands released the strap holding down Alex's prosthetic. "The new people, they're all drones, I think.""Hurry." Alex awkwardly flexed the artificial limb, trying to shake off the stiffness in the stump that controlled it. "You've got no clothes on." The observation held a hint of shock."Get me loose and I'll take care of everything else." Alexei lied in a hoarse whisper.When all the straps were finally released Alex dragged himself upright with a hiss of pain. He swallowed the stream of Russian obscenities that attempted to erupt, not wanting to blow his impersonation of Victor."What hurts?" The gangly man asked."Everything." Alexei admitted. He flexed his fingers and toes with a grim expression. "I'm thirsty and hungry. I need to use the bathroom and I've got no clothes. Every square inch of my skin is pins and needles." Alex noted the look of alarm was growing stronger on his liberator's face. Alexei reached out and caught the shirtfront of the other man and drew him forward with a jerk. When all else failed, Alex reverted to Nicki's careful programming and chemical tampering. "My saviour." The Russian pulled the other man into a searching kiss, stealing moisture and trying to bind at the same time. Alex kept up the oral assault until the other's knees started to buckle.The scarecrow stumbled backwards with a gasp when finally released. "Jeez, Victor...Jeez." His eyes were wide."Look out the door and see if it's clear." Alex slid off the table, keeping his feet just barely. "If it is...take me some place quiet. I need a little time to pull myself together.A wobbly nod, then the newcomer did as he was told. "Nobody's there." Came the whisper.Alex pushed off and staggered over to lean on the other man."The library then?" The scarecrow's voice cracked in the middle of the question."Yeah. Great."By some twist of luck they managed to make it into a stairwell, down two levels and through a hallway without being seen. The man lead Alex into a cavernous room criss-crossed with metal beams. Under a spotlight, near the centre of the hall sat a table and chairs. Ladders and dim paths radiated out from the centrepiece."I've an office." The scarecrow pointed down one corridor in the labyrinth.Alex followed. The entrance was a narrow pathway through two rows of towering metal shelves which were loaded down with thick books and old newspapers."We're trying to computerise..." He rambled. "...but it's hard. I wasn't sure where to start, what was the most important. I'm trying.""Bathroom?" Alex requested.The maze concluded at an open area with two desks, a table, a kitchenette and several trolley carts of books and files."Through there." It was a small door near the computer desk.Alex stumbled into the cramped little room. A few minutes later the door pushed back open. "Do you have a glass?" Alexei had tried scooping water from the facet up with his cupped palm but it was too slow."Umm..." The scarecrow stooped and dug into the bar fridge. "I'll get my lunchbox."Alex dropped into the office chair behind the research table. His arm shoved aside and open book on botany and an asthma inhaler."Here." A fair sized, brightly coloured tin box was offered up. Serious looking, jump-suited figures stood out against a painted starfield and spacecraft background. The words 'SPACE 1999' were blazed across the lunchbox in garish yellow. The name 'NATHAN' was neatly labelled in masking tape and black marker near the handle. Long fingers reached to pop the latch. The scarecrow slid the offering closer to Alex. The case held two juice boxes, a couple of sandwiches, a banana, and a pudding cup.Alex grabbed one of containers of apple juice, stabbed the straw in, and practically inhaled the contents with a few sucks."Wow!""I was thirsty." Alexei gathered his wits back around him to look beyond mere survival. His index finger traced the writing on the lunchbox label. "Is there someone else here that has the same box as you?""My mother made me put my name on it. I told her I had my own space to keep things in but she..." Rounded shoulders shrugged. He was staring anywhere but at Alex's naked form. "Victor, what happened? Why did they turn on you?""Don't worry Nathan." Alexei soothed. "I know the real masters of the world and they're behind me. None of this..." He gestured to the surrounding building. "...matters." Alex reached up, catching a handful of shirt fabric. Forcing himself to stand again, the Russian leaned in close to the other man. Alexei stretched out his hand to touch one hot, damp cheek. "Nathan, I need some clothes, a blueprint for this place, and a telephone." If all else failed he could snap this one's neck, but a helper would prove convenient.Nathan's adams apple bobbed. "Tony or Ross. They're on the Director's new first team." His voice was a quiet little squeak. "Their lockers...I could go check their lockers for spare clothes." Nathan was almost panting."Yeah. That's a good idea." Alexei's mouth hovered a nail's width away from the other's lips. "And the phone on the desk?""It's..." The scarecrow shuddered. "It's an intercom. No outside line.""Pity." Alex pulled away."I'll be right back." The lanky frame shook once, a hand shot out seize his inhaler, then Nathan scrambled for the exit.Not one to waste an opportunity Alex gazed about the cluttered office space. He ripped open the top sandwich and devoured it, barely noticing the taste of peanut butter. Alexei then opened the second one to munch on a bit more slowly while he ransacked Nathan's desks and files for anything of interest.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|Scully was already waiting at the terminal, rental car keys in hand, when Mulder and the trio arrived. She and Mulder used their FBI credentials to keep Li Ann and Mac out of the public areas of the airport. No sense in tipping off any observers that Victor wasn't alone. The Roman family's local representative met Victor as soon as the ex-cop disembarked from his flight. The young man handed over a set of keys and whispered that the required equipment was in the trunk. Victor sent the young man on his way promptly. Steven was an accountant. He had no place in an armed confrontation. Victor pocketed the keys and pulled out the cellular he had borrowed from Mulder, stopping off to one side of the flow of traffic."I'm listening." Li Ann's voice was easy on the ear."I've got two tails on me." Victor didn't waste any words. "I could try and shake them but I have a feeling they're going to try and take me as soon as I'm somewhere just a bit quieter." He angled himself to catch a reflection in the window of a nearby gift shop. "Maybe three." Victor upped his estimate. "Two guys and a woman that...Jeez. It's that other team I saw the Director with once. I recognise the girl." He glanced at his watch to cover a nervous twinge.Li Ann seemed to be conducting a hurried conversation. "Victor, Mulder's coming out to arrest you as if you were Krycek. Play up the protesting enough to draw an audience so the team will keep their distance. Mulder will pull you into the security access halls.""Steven's already passed me the car keys. The guns are in the trunk." "Agent Scully has a rental." Li Ann explained. "We'll meet you one block north of the Agency building...on the service road...by that green garage."Victor nodded. "Sounds good." He dared a quick glance around, making sure they weren't moving in on him yet. "Later." The phone disappeared back into an inside pocket.Mulder appeared quickly enough to indicate he'd run the entire way. Victor pretended not to notice the Federal agent until Mulder's voice barked out."FREEZE KRYCEK!" Mulder commanded, gun extended in one hand while the other flashed his badge towards an extremely startled security guard who was standing nearby. "FBI." He explained without taking his eyes off Victor."You're making a mistake." Victor turned cautiously, arms raised. "I'm not who you think I am."The crowd around them had pulled back and come to a halt.Mulder tucked away his badge and paced up to his target. The pat-down that followed was thoroughly done and a bit on the intrusive side. Victor glared down when Mulder's hand lingered to long inside his leg. "Listen, my name is Victor Mansfield.""Shut up Krycek!" Mulder growled, forcefully shoving the other man as he straightened up. "I was told I would find you here." A handful of fabric was seized at Victor's shoulder and Mulder jerked him around, dragging him towards a distant door. "We're going to the security office...then as soon as I clear it with the locals I'm taking you back to D.C. and you're going to get what you deserve." "But..." Victor dragged his heels, earning himself a hard shake."Don't." Mulder warned. "Don't even breath funny or I'll blow a hole in the back of your head. Now move." Another hard jolt followed.As soon as they were hidden from public view by the closed door Victor twisted around and slapped away the gun that Mulder had been jabbing him with. "Enough with the method acting." The ex-cop glared. "You worry me.""Sorry..." Mulder holstered his gun with exaggerated care, fighting to control the snarl that had leap to his lips." I'm sorry. I lost track for a few seconds. Krycek and I..." His voice faded out."I am not Alex." Victor stated carefully, yet again."I know. It won't happen again.""Damned straight it won't or I'll have Li Ann kick your ass." Victor teased, lightening the mood. "The car is parked in the underground." He turned his eyes away. "Steven gave me directions but this could take some looking. Let's get moving."\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|"Heaven help you if this place ever needed to be evacuated quickly." Alexei looked up from the blueprints spread out in front of him. Exits from the complex were few and far between.Nathan shrugged, chewing his lip.Alex pushed away from the table, hitching his pants up, yet again. The trackpants, tank top and shoes that Nathan had turned up were too large. "I've got to get out of here." He announced. "I'm surprised alarms aren't ringing as we speak. They must have noticed I'm loose by now.""What are you going to do?""I'd try for the motor pool to steal a car...but that's going to be heavily guarded, so..." Alex tipped his dark head to one side. "The labs have an emergency exit. I think I'll try for that." He lied. "I've never met a lab mouse I couldn't handle...and I've handled a few over the years." Alex laughed softly."What about me?" Nathan questioned, twisting his fingers absently."Stay until your shift is over, then go home as if nothing has happened." Alexei instructed. "Give me your address and I'll catch up with you later." It might be worth collecting the bookworm. Olga was in need of staff for the archives at the new compound."Cabot drive." Nathan provided. "257, but my mother doesn't allow me to have company and if you showed up when I wasn't there, she'd panic and call the police. She doesn't like strangers." He grimaced."Don't worry, baby." Alexei crossed over and ran a soothing hand through sweat dampened, murky brown hair, causing Nathan to shiver. 'I'll wait for your arrival." The Russian promised a great many things with his tone of voice.Nathan swallowed and groped after his inhaler again. He had been doing that quite frequently over the last two hours. "Stay quiet and don't draw attention to yourself, baby." Alex cautioned again then withdrew. Navigating the maze took a few precious moments, but he didn't want the librarian dogging his steps. He needed to ghost his way towards his goal. His face and the clothes he wore clearly marked him as an intruder. Alexei had to duck into a few doorways and crevasses to avoid passing people in the hallways.Half way to his destination, Alex ran into unavoidable company. A two handed fist, real hand inside the fake, bashed into the back of one man's head. It flattened the well-dressed man to the carpet. Alex dragged the limp form into an empty office. A search of his prey turned up a small handgun. Unfortunately the man's suit was too small to be worth the trouble of stripping him. Alex did however take his wallet and some change from one of his victim's pockets. Once Alexei escaped this place he would need to make some calls and maybe pay for a taxi ride or even some decent clothes.After securing the man with ripped out phone cord Alex set off once again. His goal was actually the Director's office. It was the gateway to one of the few emergency exits this place had.A conference room contained a stairwell that lead up to the Director's private office. Voices drifted down those very stairs to Alex's ears."I want to know how he got off the table." The Director was complaining. 'And if he gets out of the building I will be holding you personally responsible." She warned someone.Alex frowned about the room, despairing it's lack of hiding places. He settled for wedging himself under the steps, hoping the deep shadows would be cover enough."Someone had to have helped him. We may be dealing with a traitor in the Agency." A male voice reasoned."Jackie!" The Director snapped. "Tony, Laura and Ross still haven't tracked down that supposed FBI agent that arrested Victor at the airport. Give them a hand." She ordered wearily. A chair scraped. "Now go, get me some answers...both of you."Two sets of feet descended, one in heels. Alex shoved tight into the crevasse he had found and held his breath."Y'know Dobie..." Jackie mused aloud as they crossed the meeting room. "If she gets any bitchier about this we'll both have to..." The outside door closing cut off the rest of Jackie's threat.Alex squirmed out of his hiding place and padded silently up the stairs. A phone ringing inside the room halted his entrance. The door was still wide open so although Alex couldn't see the Director her voice was crystal clear."You took your time calling me back. What happened?" She demanded of the caller in a mildly annoyed tone. "But you've escaped custody now...or did they release you?"Alex kept a wary eye on the conference room door while he eavesdropped."A straight trade isn't enough." The Director argued. "I've been deprived of three agents for almost a year. I want compensation for that...and besides, as eager as I am to get you back, Victor...that still leaves me two agents short."Alex grimaced at the idea of Victor exchanging himself for Alexei's freedom. He couldn't let the Director seal the deal or his honourable brother might actually comply with the terms no matter that she was bluffing to some degree."How about you just present yourself at our front door and we'll talk this over face to face, Victor."Alex eased into the room, gun out and pointing. The barrel gestured for the woman behind the desk to lift her hands.To the Director's credit, she didn't startle or even make a noise of surprise. Dark auburn brows lifted slightly and she smiled. "Oh please, Victor. You can trust me." She leaned back. "I thought you and I understood each other. Don't our years together count for anything?""Stop." Alex ordered. "Put him on the speaker.""Hold on a moment." The Director pressed the required buttons and settled the handset back into it's cradle."Victor." Alex spoke up, closing and locking the door behind him. "I'm in her office and I've got a gun.""M'god, Alex. Are you okay?""I'll live." Alexei motioned the Director back from her desk. "I'd like to get out of here. Have you got wheels?""Yes." Victor assured his brother. "Fast ones.""We haven't concluded our business gentlemen." The Director interrupted. "I'm still short a team...and Xander, you've seriously annoyed me." She didn't appear humbled by her shift in fortunes. "I will be compensated or you won't leave here alive.""You overestimate your power, M'sera. You always have." Alex snarled."And you, Xander, underestimate both my staff and the level you've pushed my anger to."Victor was whispering to someone, a situation both the Director and Alex noticed."They're together." The Director announced triumphantly. "You've both lied. I knew it."On the line, Victor suddenly silenced."They aren't together." Alex argued. "I've told you Mac and Li Ann left. It's just Victor and I." He raised his voice even louder. "We can hear you, Victor. Who are you talking to." Alex hoped the other was good at picking up hints.Victor drew in what sounded like a deep breath. "Alex, don't get upset. Mulder is with me.""FUCK!" Alex's grip on the gun spasmed tighter. "Putain de bordel! Fuck!" The Director actually began to look concerned for the first time since the encounter began. Some static crackled then the voice on the phone changed. "We don't have all day, Krycek."Alex shuddered at the sound of Mulder's voice. He had hoped that Victor was bluffing."Can you get out of there alone or do we have to come in after you?" Mulder got straight to the point."There's a fire exit." Alex walked over to the wall unit across from the entrance. "As soon as I figure out how to open the passage...It lets out at a manhole beside the road just north of here.""We'll find you. Haul ass, Krycek." They disconnected the conversation."You've got two choices." Alex smiled. "Either you show me the exit or I kill you so I can search without having to watch my back." He stated in a matter-of-fact tone."You won't find it, Xander, and there's no other way out of here for you. You're just going to have to deal with me." The Director wove her hands together and her chair swivelled slightly."Now you want to deal...but when I was lying flat on my back, screaming..." Alex sucked in a calming breath. "I could never trust a deal you made at gunpoint.""As if I could trust you." She laughed. "Somewhere in this process we are going to have to accept each other's word of honour or we'll never get anywhere."Alexei's jaw was tight. "Make me a reasonable proposal, M'sera.""You're a wanted felon." The Director observed. "You could use the network of support that the Agency could offer you, Alexander." She smiled. "Why don't you do a double-back on those devious old men that you're working for now and come join my staff? They've turned on you before...and they will again...not to mention how disgracefully they waste your innate talents. In the last report I happened across about you the Englishman was using you as a chauffeur, a thug." The Director made a tsking noise. "Do you want to spend the best years of your life with a pack of tired old men hiding outdated secrets?""Why M'sera, I'm shocked that you think I would desert my employers so easily." Long lashes batted. "After all they've done for me."She shook her head. "Victor put in five years with us without too much complaining. He had a nice apartment, a new vehicle every year and a challenging job he wasn't ashamed of. If it weren't for Li Ann and Mac he never would have left. What have you got to offer him, Alexander? You're constantly on the move. You've got nothing to share but roach infested rooms, greasy fast food, and a job that Victor finds, at best, morally distasteful." She stood up. "I will take you and Victor, hook you up with Jackie...make you my first team and forget all about past grievances." During the speech the Director crossed the room to stand in front of Alex. "Make me a counter offer, Alexander. I know there's one percolating through that pretty little head of yours.""Your Agency isn't strong enough to shield me from the Consortium. What I did to Porterguard is proof of that. If I walk away they will find me and kill me." Alexei kept careful hold of his Krycek persona."The Agency will shelter you. The Consortium isn't what it used to be...and even then...only you could have got to Porterguard...and you are the defecting element. They're under attack from without and splintered within.""I'll take..." Alex corrected himself purposefully. "Victor and I will take work from your Agency on a contract basis. I'll give you a phone number, a contact that you can reach me through. But you have to keep your distance so my other employers don't get nervous." He countered."Would you become my mole in the Consortium, then?" She requested."Why should you care about the outdated secrets of a pack of tired old men, M'sera?" Alex threw her words back at the Director."Xander." Her expression was tipping toward annoyed. "I will take the pair of you on a contract basis, for now." The Director conceded. "But you come when I call as quickly as you can. I get full access to what you know of the Consortium...and any other organisations you've worked for in the past...including disclosure on what you were up to when we first met.""You stop hunting Mac and Li Ann." Alex cut in. "But if they ever come home you take them in without questions." He qualified. "And if at any time Victor needs it, he can come running to you and you give him every protection within your capabilities. I want them all to have a safe haven...if ever THINGS...fell apart. I mean after all, I'm the one dancing on the edge for you."The Director seemed to consider. "All right, but I want all your reports to be made while you're hooked up to a lie detector." The Director demanded smugly."Fuck you."That got an evil leer. "Yes, that would be a nice perk.""No lie detector. You'll have to trust me." Alexei stepped forward into the Director's personal space. "Threesome, with Janczyk?" He suggested."Eventually.""I think we have the framework of a deal, M'sera.""Who's Mulder?" The Director's dark lips almost brushed his when she spoke."An FBI agent who's trying to topple the Consortium...rather unsuccessfully." Alex explained. "Nobody special, except for his rather thick-headed honesty. I guess Victor needed some help finding me...someone he could trust."She nodded. "I think he's mentioned in your file. I will be researching him. If he has Victor's confidence, he matters." She warned."They're waiting for me." Alexei hooked his head towards the wall unit."Don't even think about leaving town. I want a meeting with you and Victor tomorrow morning. Be at our front door at nine AM.""No threats, no posturing...I'm impressed." Alex smirked. "Noon. I've had a rough couple of days and I want to sleep in. Where's the switch, M'sera?""Who freed you, Alexander?" She tested."Your library geek, Nathan. He thought I was Victor. You going to discipline him, M'sera? I could get rid of him for you, M'sera, as my first job...a freebie." Alex offered."Cleaners, I've got. I'm in need of more creative things for you and Victor.""Is that a yes or a no?""No. I'll see to Nathan's punishment myself." She dropped into a crouch, trailing one hand down Alexei's body as she lowered."I'm flattered, but pressed for time." He quipped."Noon will do." One long nailed finger stabbed into the narrow space between the bottom of the wall unit and the floor. A section of the sparsely filled shelves swung back, tipping over two figures as it moved.Alex nodded his thanks and ducked into the dark tunnel.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^Alexei fell into the back seat of the car with instructions to 'drive quickly'. He didn't want to give the Director time to put a tail on them. Mulder twisted around to look into the back seat while Victor drove. "What happened?"Weary green eyes raised. "You'll have to be more precise than that, Mulder. It's been a long...how many days have I been out of it? The last I recall clearly was a diner in Toronto on Wednesday.""It's Friday and we're in Vancouver." Mulder provided. "How did you get free?" He asked.Alexei scrubbed at his face. He needed a shave, he was still hungry and the complexity of his lies had just gotten another layer deeper. Why was it he and Mulder so often crossed paths when Alex was at his worst or most strung out? "I made a deal with the Director. You...we...work for her again, Victor.""The Director was our boss at the Agency before we went AWOL with Alex." Victor told Mulder before the Fed had a chance to question the statement. "Where are we going now, Alex?""Fuck..." He sighed. "The company house, if you're sure we're not being followed." Alex qualified. "Where are Mac and Li Ann? We should let them know where we're headed.""They're with Agent Scully in the rental." Victor swung onto another street. He fished out his cellular and tossed it over his shoulder."Christ! Scully too?" Alex groaned. "I would've gotten out alone, Victor. I always have." Alexei scrupulously repressed the exception to that statement, the silo. "You guys worry too much." He sighed. "Thank you."Victor grinned. "We're family, Alex. So...who's back with the Agency?""You and me...on a contract agreement, which we have to finalise with the M'sera...I mean the Director...tomorrow at noon." Alex dragged himself upright. "Mac and Li Ann ditched us in New Orleans over a sexual issue. I'll explain the details later. We've been looking for them for the last month. Okay?""Sounds interesting.""We're also going to have to explain Mulder too." Alexei said in a rather fatigued tone of voice, then perked up. "How about the worried boyfriend angle?""Piss off, Krycek." Mulder grumped. "I'd rather jump into a pit of scorpions. It would be safer than a roll in the sheets with you.""And I though I was the liar." Alex hooked his fingers into the back of Mulder's seat and pulled himself forward. "You know you want it." His breath teased across the other's cheek.Mulder snarled and shoved the flat of his palm to Alex's forehead, knocking him backwards hard enough to bounce the other man against the springs of the seat."Get rough with me, Foxy. I like that." Alex taunted."Whore." The elder accused."If you want me to be one, I can play that game." Alexei flicked the tip of his tongue over one of his canine teeth."KNOCK IT OFF!" Victor roared, rather aggressively. "Both of you. Alex, call Mac. He's been worried sick...since the break in." The ex-cop glared into the rear-view mirror. "You're lucky he still wants to hear from you...after you took off without a word, like that.""I was in a hurry. Nicki said it was urgent.""And a phone call would have stalled you out? Crap." Victor took another hard turn. " You can be such an inconsiderate bastard, especially to Mac.""I'll make it up to him." Alexei slumped, pouting over Victor's accusation. "I always do.""You're my brother and I love you but I don't know why Mac puts up with your shit, Alex.""Trust me, Victor. He gets revenge in the bedroom." Alexei shrugged and punched Li Ann's cell phone number in. "Hey beautiful, it's Alex. It's okay. I'm with Victor and Mulder now." He nodded. "Just meet us at the house and I'll explain everything. I know. Thanks. See you in a half hour. Bye." Alex cut her off and stabbed in a different number. His head fell back, exposing his throat to Mulder's intense surveillance. Heavy black lashes lowered over green eyes. "Eh ta Alexei." He switched over to Russian, not wanting Mulder to be privy to this conversation. <Is Nicki free?>One of the Catherines responded. He couldn't tell their voices apart. <She's kind of busy right now. Are you all right Lexi lover? Your brother called here in a bit of a panic.><I stumbled into a trap.> Alexei admitted, watching Mulder's reaction to his use of Russian through slitted eyes. The other man wavered between annoyance and anger at the language barrier. <But I'm out and hooked back up with Victor again. Noah Collins is rotten, Riene.> He guessed at which one of the four girls it might be. Riene was the one most likely to call him 'lover'. <He's hooked into the Pacific Agency somehow. He never showed for our meeting and I ended up in the Vancouver Director's hands. Nasty.> Alexei underplayed it. <I'm going to pop him off next chance I get...something ostentatious and extremely painful I think. We have to set an example.> He laughed. <Warn Stacey in the meantime that he's tainted. Oh, and tell Olga that I found her a librarian for the new compound...although I won't be able to extract him for a few weeks yet.> He smirked at Mulder, who growled and turned away in feigned disinterest. <We're all headed to the Vancouver safehouse. I'll email in a full report the first chance I get.><Lexi lover...> Riene spoke up before he could break it off. <Nicki's not happy that those Feds of yours are inside on this. You better have a nice bit of tribute to offer up before you talk to her.> The teen warned."Don't fret over me, Bodkin. I always land on my feet...eventually. Kisses, baby doll." He signed off in English just to annoy his audience. "Bye." A glance out the window suggested the ride wasn't too near it's conclusion. Alex tried one more phone call. At the family's house, Steven answered. "Hello.""It's Andre, Stevie." With a grin, Alex flipped languages once more, dropping into halting Dutch this time. <Steven, we need the house for a day or two.> He told the caretaker. <Pack a bag and go to hotel tonight.>The young man's tone was sulky but obedient. <As you wish, Andre. When can I come home again?>"Tomorrow, maybe. Call first." Alexei hedged. "It's for your own good." <We have American cops with us.> He explained. <Be quick><I'm gone.> The other end cut off abruptly.Alex sat the phone down on the seat beside him and eased forward to hang onto the back of Victor's seat. "Slow down a little, Victor." He recommended. "Maybe we should stop and grab some take out.""Couldn't hurt." Victor acknowledged. "What's your preference, Mulder?""I'm easy." The older man looked over, concentrating on the driver. "Whatever you want Victor."Alex actually flinched at Mulder's casual use of his brother's first name."Subs then...it's been a while." Victor spotted a submarine shop not too far ahead.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^Li Ann sat in the rental car beside the red-haired Agent. They were parked in the driveway of the Roman company's house. Mac had given up sitting still a few minutes previous and was now pacing up and down the sidewalk, frowning at the quiet street. Li Ann envied him the escape from the atmosphere of borderline tolerance that permeated the car but she needed to stay. Li Ann wanted to open a dialog with her silent companion but she wasn't quite sure where to start. The possibility of getting a different, and presumably more accurate view on some of the things Alex had told her was tempting. Cultivating a source of information inside the FBI could only be to her and the guys' advantage. Unfortunately the small woman wasn't giving Li Ann any openings at all."I'm sorry you and your partner got pulled into this." Li Ann ventured. "It seems Agent Mulder is a bit too curious for his own good."Scully let out a slight huff of air that sounded like agreement."I suppose you spend a lot of energy reining him in, like I do with Mac." Li Ann attempted to pinpoint some shared ground. "Every now and again I wonder if I'm not substituting for their Mothers...between Mac, Victor and Alex."That earned the oriental woman a hint of a smile before the Fed looked away."From what Alex has told me, Agent Mulder is quite the problem child all by himself.""Sometimes." Scully admitted quietly. Her gaze wandered down the street.Li Ann shifted. "They won't be much longer, Victor will keep them on course."The redhead frowned at some internal musing just as Li Ann spoke Victor's name. Li Ann tested. "Even if they ran into trouble...Victor's a good man for Agent Mulder to have at his back."That rated a sideways glance, clearly flavoured with scorn, from Scully.Li Ann changed her approach. "Where do you get copping this attitude, Agent Scully? You don't know the first thing about us."Scully's expression was chilly. "I know Krycek and I helped Mulder put together his file on the rest of you...a murdering traitor, two thieves, and a dirty cop. How awe inspiring.""Victor. Wasn't. Dirty." Li Ann defended the most of innocent of them with a fierce snarl. "His squad was bent. They turned on him because he wouldn't play along with their game. Victor is the most upright man I've ever known." She said vehemently. "I realise what Alex is...I know what Mac and I were...but don't you dare think for a second that Victor is anything less than a decent man who got tipped up by other people's mistakes." What attempted sincerity hadn't incited, righteous indignation earned. Scully shifted behind the steering wheel to look straight at the other woman. "You actually believe that.""I know integrity when I see it. I think you and agent Mulder have it. Victor has it. I'm working on it for myself..." Li Ann explained. "Hanging around with Krycek isn't the way to seek out integrity, Miss Sai." Scully suggested in a level tone."We're attempting to curb the worst of Alex's excesses...at least Victor and I are. It's an uphill battle but I think we're having a certain amount of impact. I'm open to suggestions on how to handle the brat...that don't involve a chaining him up in the basement for the rest of his life...or euthanasia." Li Ann restricted, with a smile.The arrival of another car halted whatever response Scully may have been framing. Both women popped open their doors.Mulder and Victor disembarked then went to the back doors. The Agent extracted a couple of plastic bags while Victor held the door for his brother.Mac was quicker, diving in to pull Alex out by his wrists. Mac gathered the shorter man close, scattering kisses onto Alexei's face. "...missed you...worried..." Mac's complete sentences were lost amid his feasting on Alex's pliant mouth. Long fingers wove into the elder's dark hair."Don't make me turn the hose on you." Victor threatened them without heat. He caught hold of the shoulder of Mac's shirt and tugged him off Alex. "Let's take this inside, boys.""This place is closed up tight, Alex." Li Ann inserted herself into the thin space between the lovers, distancing them even further apart. "No sign of the blonde anywhere.""I sent him packing for the night." Alexei looked up at the house. "We'll go in through the back. It's locked electrically and I've got the code." He turned his eyes to where Mulder and Scully had drawn aside to talk.Li Ann followed his gaze. "They're a double edged sword." She commented softly. "But if we had been forced to spring you by violence...they might have come in handy.""They still may, beautiful. We're not finished up here yet." Alexei allowed. "Mulder's like a force of nature...everything gets tossed to the four winds when he and I collide...and change is growth."Li Ann laughed. "Attempting to be philosophical, Lexi? It doesn't work for you, darling. Stick to brooding and dangerous.""I missed you too." He took Li Ann's hand and lead her around the back, confident the others would follow.Alexei was settled on the living room floor amid the wreckage from two submarine sandwiches, an empty carton of chocolate milk, and several crumpled napkins. The Russian still ate, nibbling his way through a pudding cup, although everyone else was finished. Alex had related an edited version of what had happened to him after their paths had diverged days ago."So what happens now?" Mac slid across the carpet to tuck himself up against Alexei's back. At the realisation of support Alex immediately went limp into the embrace. "Victor and I play nice with the Director tomorrow. We set up some kind of deal...do some odd jobs for her." He outlined vaguely. "You and Li Ann ditched us a month ago. The Director has agreed to forfeit all claim on you." Alexei let his head fall to one side and received the expected kiss on his exposed shoulder. Mac's mouth lingered pleasantly, dusting over the pale skin that Alex's oversized shirt failed to cover."What about Mulder?"Victor's question had the same effect as a bucket of ice water. Alex sat up straight, escaping Mac's attentions. "What about him?" The Russian echoed, quizzically."Maybe we should we take him with us?" Victor defined. "The Director knows he's with us...and that he's been assisting in the search.""There's no reason that the M'sera and Mulder..." Alex cleared his throat, a nervous gesture that he'd been trying to get rid of for years. "I'm sure the dynamic duo want to get back to DC as soon as possible.""And miss an opportunity to see inside yet another shady government organisation?" Mulder's mouth quirked. "Perish the thought, Krycek. I'd love to tag along with you boys."Alexei's narrow brows drew together. "The meeting is to set up a service contract. We don't need an FBI witness." He curled his lip. "Mulder already knows too much about my business." An implied reprimand shot out at Victor."Sounds the boss has handed down his orders...Can't argue with that." Mulder observed dryly."I want him to come along." Victor rose to the taunt, then tried to soften the demand. "Please Alex." He knew his brother responded better to a request than a challenge.The Russian chewed his cheek in, sharing a long look with his twin, then glanced too casually over at the Federal Agent. "I suppose it might surprise her." Alex reasoned. "And setting the Director off her stride is always a good start point during negotiations.""Thank you, Alex." Victor took a sip of his coke, leaning back into the generous cushions of the loveseat. His head settled against the arm Li Ann had extended across the back of the small sofa. Li Ann, sitting sideways with her legs tucked up, absently petted her ex-lover's hair."If we're staying tonight..." Dana Scully wiped at her mouth with a paper napkin. "I wouldn't mind a chance to clean up. This little adventure caught me off guard and I'm beat.""There are three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs." Mac announced loudly. "Alexei and I will stay in the basement.""That still leaves us one bed short." Li Ann pointed out. "How about I crash in the basement too." She suggested.That drew looks from all around the room, all of them different. Victor pulled away slightly so he could see her face, surprised by her timing more than the suggestion itself. "You don't have to Li Ann." He gave her an out. "The master bedroom has a bed and a couch...you remember that set up by the balcony...I'll take the sofa." Victor didn't clarify who could share that room with him, leaving it open to both Li Ann and Mulder. Agent Scully wasn't a very likely option."I usually sleep on a couch anyway." Mulder cut into the discussion."That works then." Mac climbed to his feet. "Let's go downstairs Alex." He suggested to his lover."It's still too early, Mac. I'm wired from the week I've been through." The Russian took another spoonful of pudding. His attention was on Mulder as he licked the spoon clean. "You go ahead, Baby. I'll catch up later." Dark green eyes never left the Federal Agent as he spoke.He didn't see Mac's glare sweep the room, considering the audience. The tall thief frowned and shook his head once. "NYET! Now Alexei." Mac reached down, caught a handful of blackish-brown hair and pulled.Alex came to his feet with a sharp moan of pain, dropping his dessert. "You're hurting me." Came the husky whisper."No shit." Mac smirked. "And this is just the beginning. GET GOING!" The younger man heaved, shoving Alexei ahead of him."Mac..." Li Ann began levelly. "Maybe you shouldn't...not tonight. Alex has just...""HE'S MY LOVER!" Mac's shout halted the rest of her objection. "I know what I'm doing.""I don't think you do." Li Ann shook her head. With a little moue of disapproval on her lips, Li Ann switched to Cantonese. <Alex has a lot of damage that you don't know about, Mac. This isn't good for him.>Before Mac could respond, Alex did, catching both of them by surprise with his grasp of the language. < I thought I could trust you, Li Ann. Would you betray my confidences, beautiful?> Alexei looked to Mac, noting that his lover's aggressive stance had vanished at Li Ann's revelation. <If you can't give me what I need, lover...I'm sure Mulder can.> He jeered.The snarl returned to Mac's lips full force. <I own you. You belong to me.>"Prove it." Alexei dared. His eyes shone with reckless fire."With pleasure, my Demon." Mac surged forward, pushing Alex ahead of him into the hallway.Victor sighed and shook his head. "Let it go, Li Ann. Neither of them are in the mood for a reasonable discussion right now.""Lexi seldom is." She frowned at the empty archway as the basement door slammed. Li Ann rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I need to use Steven's office for a while.""Okay. I'll show Agent Scully her room." Victor offered, standing up. "You want me to toss your bag into Stacey's room or the master bedroom, Li Ann?" He asked."Stacey's room, I think. Thanks anyway, Victor." She offered him a sad smile then arose and departed."I know a clinic that would give you a fair rate on group counselling." Mulder murmured."Only if you sit in on the session too, Mulder." Victor argued. "You're part of the problem. You're playing the game with Alex too, maybe not exactly the same way Mac does...but you're playing. Where are the keys to the rental, Agent Scully?" Victor redirected. "All the bags are in the trunk, right?"Scully dug into her pocket then tossed the keys across the room. "Be careful of my laptop.""I'll help." Mulder stood. There were five bags to bring in. "I suppose the 'gear' in the other trunk should come inside too.""Only if it's wrapped up." Victor walked out the front door, glancing up and down the quiet residential street. A few steps took him to the company car. Opening the trunk revealed two rolled up blankets. Steven had been discreet."That's non-descript enough." Mulder commented, picking up the top one.The bundled weapons were one trip. They had to go back out for the actual luggage."Pack horse duty." Victor remarked. He hooked Li Ann's bag over one shoulder, his over the other and took Mac's up by the handle.Mulder caught up his own and Scully's baggage. Once inside again, Mac's got dropped by the basement door. A voice raised in either intense pleasure or pain dissuaded them from lingering nearby.Scully joined them climbing the stairs. "This Director person, is she dangerous?" Scully asked Victor."The short answer is yes." He opened the first bedroom door. The location and its blue-grey theme told Victor that this one was Stacey's. "But it's more complicated than that." He wiggled out of the shoulder strap of Li Ann's carryall and laid it on the bed. "She's dedicated to her job and I suppose you could say she's an ethical woman, but..." Victor considered. "On the other hand she's EXTREMELY dedicated to her job." He laughed at the repetition. "And she's closer to ruthless than honest."Scully frowned. "Maybe, Mulder, you should stay out of this one."Victor progressed down the hall to the third door on the same wall. "The bathroom is between you and Li Ann. You both have a connecting door to it.' He stayed out of their conversation. "That's the door to the master bedroom." Victor pointed. "It's got it's own en-suite so we won't be walking in on you ladies. That door is just a closet.""It's a completely unknown organisation, Scully." Mulder argued. "I've never even heard of this 'Agency' before." He grinned. "The gunmen are going to go into a jealous froth if I tell them and they haven't got a clue about it either.""We're out of our jurisdiction." She crossed.Victor pulled back from the discussion, retreating to the monstrous bedroom to drop off his own gear. He wanted a chance to check out the furniture grouped near the balcony door. His memory was hinting that despite his suggestion the couch might be too little and uncomfortable to sleep on.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|Victor was drying his short hair when Mulder finally let himself into the bedroom. "So what's up? Are you coming with Alex and I tomorrow or not?" The younger man tossed aside the damp towel and quickly pulled on a fresh T-shirt. It snagged and struggled against his still wet skin."I'm coming." Mulder dropped his bag to the floor beside the bathroom door. "Scully wants to wire me for sound but I talked her out of it. We don't have the equipment with us and we don't want the local cops in on this..." He trailed off. "She's just worried about me. Krycek has led me into some treacherous situations in the past. Not that I'm the most careful of men when left to my own devices.""No kidding." Victor shot back in mock disbelief. His attention drifted to the couch, almost by accident. "It's a bit on the short side." Victor observed. "Mulder, I don't see the need for one of us to get a neck crick when the bed is nearly the size of a football field." He ventured. "We're grown men. I can handle sleeping in one bed if you can."Mulder's shoulders tightened up. "I have nightmares. I'll probably end up bashing you over the head in my sleep." He excused. "I'll crash downstairs...in the living room." Mulder corrected quickly."You don't want to do that." Victor offered up a pained look. "It's going to sound like a triple X movie down there once Mac and Alex really get going.""I usually sleep with the TV on anyway." Came the next excuse.Victor walked over to a fancy cabinet and pulled the main doors open. "Voila." He picked up the remote control and turned on the television set that had been hiding in the cupboard. Victor then tossed the clicker onto the bed, near the pillows. "But seriously, if this bothers you...I'll go sleep with Li Ann tonight. She'll understand.""If you're so sure of your chances..." Mulder crouched down to dig through his overnight bag. "Why are you wasting your time in here?" A faintly petulant tone tinged Mulder's voice."It's not like that." Victor countered. "Li Ann and I...we're past the physical part of our relationship. She declined earlier is because she thought there was plenty of room and besides...she's pissed at Mac so she's going to be up for a while, brooding." He grimaced, his mind wandering for a moment. "Really, she's my best friend. Friends like us, we can handle sharing a bed without tripping over sexual hang-ups."Mulder laughed quietly. "Point taken. Okay, I can pretend to be a grown up...if you don't mind the TV staying on all night...white noise helps me sleep." Mulder shrugged."Just remember to pick a channel that doesn't go to bars and tone at 3am." Victor qualified. "That noise makes my teeth hurt.""Fair enough." His shaving kit was extracted. "I'm going to get cleaned up too.""Sounds like a plan." Victor settled onto one side of the bed and picked up the remote control.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^Dana Scully picked her watch up off the nightstand and glanced at the face. She had indulged in a shower, then a leisurely bath. The bathroom was well stocked with oils, bath beads, and huge fluffy towels. Afterwards Scully had pulled on green silk pjs, wrapped herself into a patchwork quilt and tried to read herself into the mood to sleep. She just couldn't get past feeling bone weary and into sleepy.Dana kicked out of the fabric nest she had built up and bare feet touched the plush carpet. Maybe a warm drink would help. She had noticed packets of hot chocolate sitting out on the kitchen counter. Out in the hallway she noticed flickering bluish light and the faint noise of music and strange voices coming from the room Mulder and Victor were sharing. Hopefully Victor had a high tolerance for bad television, because she didn't think her partner watched any other kind.Down in the kitchen, Scully was surprised to find the kettle warm to the touch. A pot of what smelled like herbal tea sat nearby. She reconsidered her earlier craving and poured some of the fragrant brew into a mug.Once the overhead light in the kitchen was off Dana followed the glow to the only room on the first floor that was illuminated. Peering in the door she saw Li Ann sitting in a massively built desk chair watching a mosaic of male bodies build on the computer screen.Scully pushing the door open caused the younger woman to startle upright in the wooden chair. The mouse shifted at the impact of Li Ann's knee and a 'Windows' desktop, three quarters covered with icons, appeared.Li Ann rubbed her palms up her cheeks and over her eyes. "I thought everyone had turned in." The oriental woman pushed back a bit, away from the glow of the monitor. "You surprised me.""Sorry." Dana held up her tea mug. "You made this, I suppose."Li Ann nodded then winced as a male voice intruded, begging breathlessly. "It's a trick of acoustics." She explained. "You can hear just about everything downstairs in this room."Now her attention had been caught Scully noticed the subtle, continuous soundtrack. One voice pleading, another laughing softly, and the jingle of metal on metal."Mac and Alex." Li Ann said, unnecessarily. "Round two." Pitch black hair shook. "You'd think I'd be used to it after all this time. Their bedroom is above mine back home."Dana took a sip of tea so she could blame the flush creeping across her cheeks on the heat of the beverage. "They are..."Someone, most likely Alex by the tone, screamed."...enthusiastic." Scully concluded.Li Ann sighed. "He never lost control like that when he was with me...neither of them did." The office chair creaked as she leaned back.Dana tilted her head. "Neither." She repeated. "You've slept with Krycek?""And Mac, and Victor." Li Ann mused aloud. "I tried to run off with Mac and nearly married Victor. Alex...lord, Alex and I are just a chemical thing." She chuckled. "Nothing like those two however."The words and the demeanour of the woman in front of her clashed, in Scully's opinion."I suppose your opinion of me has just dropped another few notches." Li Ann said wearily. "I'm sorry." She straightened in the chair. "Just...I'm in a weird mood. I admit it." Her foot tapped. "Being back in Vancouver has twisted me around."Scully chewed on the inside of her cheek and stared at the floor. The other woman's emotional admissions weren't something she expected or had much recent experience with."Just over a year ago I had two men and woman competing fiercely for my attention and I just put them all off...so blissfully certain they would all just wait on my timetable.""They didn't." Dana ventured after a moment, needing to drown out the voices below them. "They didn't." Li Ann confirmed.The redhead nodded absently. The few relationships she had made a stab at over the last six years had all fallen apart too. Dana hadn't had the time or the energy to spare. The work had sucked up her personal life until all she had left were a few casual friends, who required little maintenance, and her family.Li Ann laughed. "I've gotten to the point where I'm telling you...of all people....Jeez." She caught herself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be dumping on you. I mean, we barely know each other and what I do know of you says you don't need this.""No. It's all right." Dana assured. "I think I understand. Everyone needs to unload to someone...and sometimes an outsider is the best choice.""We're back to that 'mother' thing again." Li Ann observed. "My three boys lean on me. Agent Mulder leans on you...doesn't he?""Mulder..." Scully frowned, feeling strange about returning the other woman's confidences. "Mulder has a lot of pressure on him." That was reasonably honest, without giving anything away. "Mulder and I have had a rough few years. We've lost..." The urge to let it all explode out had to be carefully suppressed. "...almost everything..." Dana gripped her mug painfully. "...and found too little. It does wear on a soul." She admitted.A screamed declaration of love cut into the silence between the women.Li Ann leaned, shutting the computer down with a few clicks and pushed buttons. "I've got to get away from this." She stood up, stretching out gracefully. "It's frustrating enough to know that kind of jungle rut is going on without having to listen to it twice in one night. I mean, did you ever have a lover devastating enough to rate..."A stream of babble in Alex's ravaged voice rose to a previously unreached level almost as if on cue.Li Ann's head cocked to one side. "Russian, French and I think, Spanish. Mac's got him speaking in tongues now. Colour me impressed." She giggled."Upstairs?" Dana suggested."I think so." Li Ann flicked off the desk lamp.They had to wait for their eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. Below them, Alex had been reduced to sobbing one phrase over and over again."It's Russian." Li Ann whispered an explanation. "I've heard this routine before, although not lately. Lexi translated it for me. Mercy. He's asking for mercy.""Christ." Scully murmured to herself. An entire spectrum of emotions flitted through her, arousal and envy being the two that disturbed her most.Li Ann slipped by, gently catching hold of Scully's arm to guide the older woman. "You do not want to hear what comes next. Trust me.""Why didn't you marry Victor?" Dana turned back to an earlier curiosity."You don't pick easy questions, do you Agent Scully?""Dana." The elder corrected. It felt good to use her first name for a change, and even better when Li Ann repeated the name aloud."It's kind of complicated, Dana. It's not that I didn't love him. I did, really. I still do. Victor is the sweetest, most caring man I've ever known. He treats me like a princess...was my rock during a confusing time...""But?"Li Ann chuckled low in her throat. "I wasn't ready to give up that much of myself, so I pushed him away...too far, I suppose." She mused. "So now I've got a best friend, but that's all. Sometimes I'm sure it was the right thing to do. Other times I could kick myself for being for being so stupid.""When you're alone at night." Dana guessed.Another husky giggle by Scully's ear. "Yeah, and those two are being particularly dramatic." Li Ann still continued to guide the other woman although they both had the same amount of light to rely on. "Stairs." She warned. "So are you and Agent Mulder a thing?"Dana coughed, verbally stumbling. "Ah...no. That's against the rules. It might damage our partnership and neither of us is willing to risk that right now. We work too well together. Besides, it's not like it could bring us much closer than we are now, I think we've gone beyond that point.""Maybe we should trade off." Li Ann chuckled. "You get Victor and I'll take...oh wait..." She hesitated. "Does he ever shut up and sit quietly?""Hardly ever." Dana admitted.A laugh underlined Li Ann's words. "Never mind then. He may be decorative, but eventually we'd have to get out of bed and a murder trial would be so awkward."Scully made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh."You're a tough audience." Li Ann teased, opening her bedroom door. "Keep me company a while." She invited. "I'd like to hear you really break up."It may have been her imagination, but Dana suspected there was something more to the request. "It's late." She hedged weakly.Li Ann leaned in the doorframe. "I need to shake the boys loose...think of something else." She explained. "Girl talk, you know." The younger woman's mouth hooked up at one side. "Just for a while?"Dana nodded, earning the rest of Li Ann's smile. "Sure, but I'm afraid my 'girl talk' is a bit rusty, so bear with me.""Hey so is mine. The only person I've had to practice on lately is Alex." Li Ann led the way inside. "And his opinion on make-up and hair care is a bit skewed." She joked.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^"Li Ann."A man's voice and weight on the edge of the mattress woke Dana Scully. Her first thought was that if a man was going to sneak into her bedroom in the middle of the night, the least he could do would be to get her name right. The realisation that she had fallen asleep in someone else's bed came hard on the heels of that. Li Ann's bed, considering the silky fabric and slight curve Dana was snuggled into. Their impromptu pyjama party had turned into a sleepover. That explained the man and his query."Li Ann I need to talk to you.""She's asleep. She's tired. Come back in the morning." Dana supplied blandly. Li Ann was right, these guys were as bad as children.The tall form pulled away swiftly at Scully's voice. "Uh..." He backed into the faint light trickling in the window.Victor or Alex, wearing nothing but a pair of track pants, Dana decided. A glint of light caught her attention. A nipple ring, that was an interesting clue.The figure withdrew further back to the door and out of the light. "Um, Agent Scully. Sorry." He apologised. "I was...it can wait."Scully squinted, trying to make out some details in the left arm, but the shadows were too deep for more than a vague outline. It had to be Victor, Dana decided, noting the use of her title and his seeming embarrassment. Krycek would surely be leering and tossing off suggestive comments. She shifted a bit out of Li Ann's embrace, causing a faint whimper of complaint from the other woman. "We were talking and we dozed off." The blanket fell away with a subtle push to reveal Dana's long sleeved pyjama top and a bit of Li Ann's nightgown."S'okay. I'll catch up with her in the morning.""Victor?" Dana tested."Yeah." He responded in a natural tone."Just checking." Dana settled back down, too comfortable to bother changing rooms. "See you in the morning." Krycek seeing her like this wouldn't do any real damage, but Scully couldn't help but be grateful it was Victor."Goodnight, Agent Scully." The door opened and closed quietly, the narrow slice of illumination was too brief to confirm his identity however.It had to be Victor. Mulder's all night TV habit was probably disturbing the man's sleep. She should have mentioned that he could have her room, but her clothes and toiletries were strewn across the bed.Dana rolled onto her side, gazing at Li Ann's faintly outlined profile. Strange, to feel so comfortable with someone she'd spent so little time with. The combination of Li Ann's complete, rather intense, attention when Dana was speaking and the younger woman's unsolicited confidences were intoxicating, almost addictive. Falling asleep in the other woman's bed had been a natural result. The pleasure she was feeling at listening to Li Ann's breath was something else entirely. Without thinking Dana extended her hand and touched one high cheekbone. Her fingers trailed down and Li Ann leaned into the caress with a sigh. After a moment's consideration, Dana pulled the covers back up and settled herself back against the other's long body. Li Ann's arms lifted and wrapped comfortably, without hesitation.It had been a long time since Dana had shared a bed with someone so tactile. Even Mulder was more physically comforting than the last two men that she had slept with. It was a nice change.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|The television was still on, as it had been all night, quietly spewing unfamiliar upbeat voices. The noise registered in a corner of Mulder's brain but made no real impression. His attention was on other things; the golden heat pouring in the balcony doors, the clean perfume of the material under and around him, and the peculiar sensation of Victor's arm and leg draped over him. The slow, steady breathing against Mulder's ear suggested that the other man remained asleep and unaware of how tangled his and Mulder's bodies had grown overnight.The questions nagged at the older man's mind. Did he want to extricate himself before Victor awoke? Did he want to play possum and observe how Victor would squirm away? Or did he actually want to deal with the embrace? The last time Mulder had awoken with someone else's arms around him was two years ago and a half a world away. Krycek. Mulder shuddered."Whatever you're thinking...stop it." Victor suggested softly, right against the other's ear.He was an echo of Krycek. Mulder tried to roll away but the arm across his chest tightened, restraining him."Can you tell me the problem? I got the impression you were interested."Mulder glanced sideways, reaching up to touch Victor's earring. He needed to impress the slight difference between the twins into his fingertips.The arm cushioning Victor's head shifted. Victor wove his fingers into Mulder's hair, petting awkwardly. "I'm not Alex. Feel. Two hands." Victor guessed."Krycek had two...before...then..." When Mulder struggled a second time he was released immediately. The older man drew away, sitting up but not leaving the bed. "There hasn't been anyone else...not since Russia.""Bloody hell." Victor swore softly. "What did he do to you?"That earned a pained laugh from Mulder. "Krycek didn't do anything. That's just it. He simply accepted everything willingly...the abuse, the sex..." Sleep spiked hair shook. "I was the aggressor every time. I don't know where my head was." Another laugh. "Strike that. I know exactly where it was. I just don't understand how I let it get so far out of control. I'd controlled the attraction for years, buried it."Victor sighed."I almost avoided it that time too." Mulder continued. "I started to leave him in New York, at the airport...but I didn't get ten feet away before I went back to get him. I don't think I ever intended to leave him behind but...Fuck." They sat in silence for a brief while.Mulder stared down at his feet. "Maybe given time...if you're still interested. We could try later.""I don't what you think of me...but I'm not after casual sex. This isn't a whim, Mulder. Take your time." Victor climbed off the bed and scooped up his bag. "I don't want you while you're thinking about Alex anyway." He explained. "I've played that game before and it doesn't work out."Mulder looked up with a frown. "What's that mean?"Victor winced. "I tried...Mac and I got together for a little while. It didn't work out and upon reflection...I've figured out that Alex was a factor, although I didn't know it at the time."Hazel eyes closed. "The odd thing is that I'm not surprised. The four of you are all tangled together in a rather intricate pattern."Victor offered a brief smile. "The five of us, Mulder. I've told you that before. Welcome to our incestuous little muddle. I hope you enjoy your stay because nobody escapes easily." He shouldered his duffel and slipped into the bathroom.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^Everyone except Li Ann looked uncomfortable to some degree as they wandered in and out of the kitchen.Scully was trying to decide if either Victor or Krycek looked at her differently this morning. Victor and Mulder tiptoed around each other rather warily. Mac, lounging in a kitchen chair, glared at Mulder whenever the Agent was near. Alex leaned on the counter trying to eat toast and drink coffee despite a darkly bruised jaw and swollen lips. Li Ann picked up her juice and snuggled herself up against Alexei's side. "Is there anything I can do while you're at the Agency?" She offered.His nod was barely perceptible. "Can you e-mail Nicki a summary of the situation for me? I meant to last night but..." Alex shrugged."No problem." A peck on his cheek caused a wince. "Do you need..." Li Ann whispered, aware he wouldn't want a fuss made over his injuries. "I mean, are you hurt?""Just bumps and bruises, Beautiful?""Liar.""Christ Li Ann. There's only a little broken skin and Mac did the disinfectant thing this morning." Alex admitted. "I've had worse."Li Ann's dark head shook. "The Director is going to be curious as to why you won't sit down during the meeting Lexi.""I could blame Mulder." Alex kept to the bare whisper that Li Ann had instigated."Don't." She warned. "You've got a slightly deranged, but steady relationship with Mac. This self-destructive need that you have to fuck it up...I've told you and told you..." Li Ann sighed. "You'll never get anything more than cheap sex from Mulder." She hissed out the caution."That'll do." Alexei remarked.Li Ann slapped his shoulder lightly. "You and I are overdue for a long talk, Lexi my dear.""I tried last night..." Alex pulled even further away from Mac, the door and any possible audience. "What's up with you and Saint Scully, Beautiful?""Not that it concerns you...it was girl talk." Li Ann glanced back over her shoulder, noting Mac's frown. "I'm allowed to have a life."They were whispering nose to nose now. "No argument there, just concern." Alex murmured. "Scully isn't comfortable with the shady edge between right and wrong, beloved, and that's exactly where we live.""I can handle it." Li Ann withdrew from the intimate pose they had fallen into as Mulder entered the kitchen with two empty coffee cups. "We should be going soon." The Agent prodded. "We'll be late as it is.""Not if I drive." Alex sat aside what was left of his breakfast."You're in the back seat where you belong, Krycek." Mulder set the mugs in the sink."Gee Fox, most guys prefer a hotel or at least an alley, but if that's what turns you on I'm game.""Alexei!" Mac growled. "Don't.""Of course we never did get fancy in Russia. Only one proper bed out of all the times we went at it." Alex purred out."Shalava..." Mac's teeth ground.Mulder was scowling, his hands clenching. "Knock it off, Krycek.""It's time to go guys." Victor slipped up behind Mulder, frowning as he took in the tension level. "Alex, please behave yourself." The ex-cop guessed at the source of the trouble."The car belongs to Roman Enterprises, that means me." Alex announced. "I drive."Victor shook his head. "Is that...Jeez. I'm a Roman too now Alex, besides, I've still got the keys." He pulled them out of his pocket with a flourish. "I'll drive. Now let's go.""He's learning." Alexei left Li Ann's side, making for the doorway but Mac seized the Russian's wrist as he passed."Demon." Mac stood, drawing the older man close to his chest. "Be careful. The Director, she's a liar and a cheat.""So am I lover." Alex gave the other a brief kiss. "Don't worry. I've enough guile to make up for those two babes in the woods. We'll be fine.""Are you calling me naive?" Victor objected, right behind Mulder's shoulder."It's part of your charm 'o brother of mine." Alex extricated himself from Mac's grasp. "If we weren't so closely related I'd be tempted to boff you just to see the look of astonishment on your face."Exclamations of disgust came from Mulder, Victor and Li Ann.Alex turned to look back at his lover. "What? No grimace of distaste from you, baby?""Nothing your twisted little imagination can produce would surprise me, demon...and I'll play along with almost anything." Mac vowed in a harsh whisper. "That's why you belong with me. Remember that." A tap on the bruised portion of Alexei's face emphasised the declaration.Alex offered up a half-smile but no words, before pacing out of the room.Victor's palm smoothed down Mulder's sleeve. "Let's go."\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^Alex got a thick rush of pleasure at the annoyance on the Director's face when Mulder entered the conference room hard on Victor's heels. Between making her wait on them and bringing an unexpected spectator Alexei had rattled her just a little."You boys have a rough night?" A long black fingernail tapped against her leather mini-skirt."It's been a hard few days." Alex shrugged.Victor settled himself into the left of the two chairs on the near side of the table, looking around as he did.Alex hesitated a bare moment then left the second chair for Mulder by choosing to slide gracefully up and sit cross-legged on the table, perfectly cloaking the protests of his roughly used backside. "M'sera Director..." Alexei began casually. "...meet Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI." His real hand gestured. "Mulder, this is the Senior Director for the Western Canadian branch of the Agency. I'm sorry, I don't know her name.Mulder nodded a greeting as he dropped into the seat beside Victor.The Director's lips pursed. "What a delightful surprise. I don't believe we've ever had the pleasure of a Federal Agent visiting our offices before." Her tone was brittle. "However will I thank you, Xander dear?""Just trying to save you some research. You were interested in more information on Mulder after all." Alex smirked, picking up the folder that lay in front of him. He flipped through the papers inside. "My signature on this isn't worth anything.""It's merely a list of points we need to be clear on." The Director waved a hand absently. "Although, I'm curious which name you would use if I did ask you to sign it.""It wouldn't be Xander." Alex reprimanded.The Director scooping up the folder interrupted Mulder's casual reach towards the second copy of the document."Tell me Agent Mulder." She tapped her sharp nails against the spine of the leather folder. "Do your superiors at the Bureau approve of your association with former Agent Krycek?""I have no 'association' with Krycek. I'm inside this as a friend of Victor's. On my own time." Mulder added. "I do have to admit to a certain amount of personal curiosity as well. Who exactly has authority over this organisation? Which government do you answer to?""Well, well..." The Director smiled, settling into the chair on the far side of the long, shiny table. "Aren't you the inquisitive one.""I've always been under the misguided impression that the public has a right to know what their taxes pay for." Mulder met the woman's stare in blatant challenge.The Director stabbed out to the keypad on the phone in front of her. "I'm not one to stand in the way of such a noble cause.""Ya-huh." The speakerphone was loud in comparison to their voices."Jackie sweetie, could you please come to the briefing room." The Director requested, still concentrating on Mulder. "I've a little task for you.""On my way, boss."Alexei cleared his throat, waving the folder. "My history is not going to suddenly become an open book for you, M'sera. You only get the relevant bits.""You push and push." The Director complained. "You hate to give anything up but you want everything in return...like a spoiled child." Auburn hair shook. "I won't accept that kind of behaviour from one of my Agents, Xander dear. You want to deal, then you have to make a few concessions."The door opening silenced the retort on Alexei's lips. He had no desire to put on a show for the Director's underling.Jackie swayed across the floor on high, chunky heels. "This is like too cool for words. You guys are mirrors." She stared at the twins. "Xander babe, you SO have to get a butch haircut like Victor's and your ear pierced. Can you picture the scene we could score if I took the pair of you out clubbing. Wild." The young woman leaned casually forward on the back of the Director's chair to show off her cleavage and grinned."Agent Mulder..." The Director flicked her fingers to indicate whom she was naming. "...meet Jackie Janczyk. Jackie, be a doll and give the nice FBI Agent the dime tour.""Oooo...a real live G-man." Jackie gave a theatrical shiver of pleasure, an awe-inspiring sight considering her brief, snug clothing. "And so handsome too. I am in heaven."Mulder rose to his feet. His expression had more than a hint of a leer as he looked over the well-endowed blonde.Alexei sneered. "I think she's a little more complicated than your usual Saturday night date, Mulder. No pause or rewind buttons." The Russian snapped. "Then again, maybe she's not."Mulder's head turned and the long-time adversaries glared at each other, the elder edging closer. Alex saw the backhand coming but did nothing to avoid it."Mulder!" Victor shot out of his chair and pulled Mulder away with a handful of his jacket."Foreplay. Yum." Alex's tongue cleaned up the smear of blood at the corner of his mouth. "But your timing sucks Foxy. Go play with the pretty inflatable girl while the grown ups do some work.""You scum-sucking piece of filth. I should..." Mulder began."Stop it!" Victor stepped back, pulling his captive with him. "Alex! Knock it off. I'm tired of the way you two snarl and tear at each other...and I'm tired of being the referee."The Director rose gracefully to her feet, briefly whispering something into Jackie's ear as she stood. "I suppose we should separate the hooligans and get down to business." Dark lips smiled. "If you will follow Jackie, Agent Mulder, she will handle satisfying your curiosity while Victor, Alexander, and I firm up a few details.""Sounds like a plan." Alexei purposefully turned his attention down to the document in front of him.Mulder turned slightly, meeting Victor's eyes. "Will you be all right dealing with these two?""Been there, done that." Victor joked. "Go look around. It's not everyday they let G-men poke around in their shadowy government installation." He laughed, then his voice lowered. "You'll see more if you manage to ditch Jackie."Mulder nodded, straightening out his jacket. "I know. I might try." With a final glare at Alex, Mulder followed the blonde out the door."I don't suppose..." The Director's chair swivelled so she was facing Alexei straight on. "...you're going to explain this little scene."Victor dropped heavily back into his chair. "You always said you liked sexual tension, that it kept the team sharp.""Ah yes." She leaned back. "But ideally it should be between team-members. I should think you and Alexander are excluded for obvious reasons.""There's always sibling rivalry for the same object of affection." Victor mumbled absently.Alexei's head snapped up. "That's. My. Fox." He declared in a chopped flat voice."Your plate is full. Don't be so greedy, Alex." Victor teased, extending his hand as a request for the file.A fleeting pout crossed Alexei's face then with a pointed look at the Director his expression went completely blank. "The first thing we have to work out is how we contact each other." Alex passed the file over to Victor as he spoke. "I don't want you tripping up my cover with the Consortium." He was all business.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^The Director made her wishes rather clear. When the discussion had started to drift to rather trivial concerns she put a stop to the meeting and dismissed Victor. Alex had nodded his agreement and slid down off the table.When Victor departed, under orders to find Mulder, the two of them were just climbing the stairs to the Director's private office.Walking down the barren halls of the Agency took Victor back in time. He had spent six years of his life with the Agency and not quite one in his new home. The pull of the past was strong.Victor tapped a warning on each door that he passed before trying the knob. Some doors were locked but most opened on half lit, empty rooms. He wandered through medical centre, a few interrogation rooms, and a chemistry lab of sorts before descending a flight of stairs. It always struck Victor as eerie, how the hallways never seemed lived in when he knew the Agency had a large support staff. As usual he had to chalk it up to the odd hours and weekend meetings that the Director seemed to prefer.The heavy silence and dim illumination encouraged him to keep his steps light and his movements cautious. Victor could have blamed his stealthy approach, but he doubted his quarry would have noticed his arrival in the gymnasium if he were banging a drum and waving a flashlight.Mulder was flat on his back on the matted portion of the floor with Jackie straddling his hips. Most of their clothing was strewn haphazardly about the gym, although Jackie had retained her high heels and Mulder's dress shirt was tangled up below them, still caught on his wrists.Victor halted a reasonable distance back, leaning into the solid bulk and odd shape of the weight machine. The scene laid out before him caused a twist of emotion he wasn't quite sure how to name through his chest.Jackie dropped forward onto her hands and gave a hard twist to her hips, provoking a strangled groan from the man under her. "Scream for me, baby." The blonde demanded. "The place is deserted." Her tanned body undulated. "Make some noise for me, damn it." Jackie nipped at his open mouth.Mulder let loose another gut wrenching moan. "So fucking good.""That's it. That's what I want." Jackie rewarded the admission by straightening up suddenly, tossing her hair and arching her back hard.Mulder howled, struggling to escape his entangling shirt. "I want to touch you." His wrists wrenched uselessly, caught in the buttoned up cuffs.Jackie laughed. Her dark eyes lifted, catching the motion of Victor shifting uncomfortably in place. A pleased smirk broke across her pink lips at the realisation that they had an audience.Victor hesitated on the edge of flight, but something in the blonde's expression held him in place. He tracked the motion of her hand as it snaked up, gathering sweat from her neck, face and brow. Jackie paused dramatically then, when she had his eyes locked back with hers, she licked her palm. Victor shivered. His fingers wrapped around a nearby bar of metal and squeezed tight."Jackie please. Oh god!" Mulder pleaded, his hips trying to lift of the mats despite her weight holding him down. "S'close."Victor felt Jackie's eyes burning into him as her hips rose and thrust down harder but he couldn't help but drop his own gaze lower. Mulder had been reduced to writhing helplessly under her taunt form, babbling three or four words continuously. Victor's knuckles whitened, holding tight to the bar to prevent him from doing something about the rush of arousal the scene was provoking in him. When Mulder finally let loose a shout of release, Victor lifted his eyes back to Jackie's face. They locked gazes and held as the blonde's frame shuddered in reaction. A quake ran down Victor's backbone. It was too easy to picture himself in either of their positions."Stay here." Jackie insisted softly. The fingers of one of her hands reached to brush Mulder's eyelids closed while her strong legs flexed, lifting."Bloody hell..." Mulder whimpered as their bodies slowly separated once more, Jackie's other hand easing the process."Stay." Jackie repeated. "I'll get something to clean us up." Her fingers swirled in the sticky dampness a moment before she stood straight up.The nude woman walked over to Victor, halting silently at his side. They stared at each other for a breath then Jackie lifted her messy right hand. One dripping finger painted Victor's lips. Victor didn't hesitate. His tongue flicked out cleaning first his lips then the fingers she pressed against and into his mouth. Her bare hip dug into the straining denim of his crotch.Jackie pressed close to whisper in his ear. "I could use you for the third inning. The G-man's near on wiped out." Victor shook his head. "No, not like this." He stammered. "Tell Mulder it's time to go. I'll be waiting in the briefing room." Victor's fingers un-knotted from their hold on the equipment reluctantly and he pushed the lean blonde away. His body screamed it's protest but he forced himself to withdraw from Jackie's proximity and retreat.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|"We're being followed." Alexei observed from the passenger seat. Mulder had climbed into the back seat, rested his head lazily, and not said one word since they had left the Agency."I'll loose them." Victor offered."Don't bother." The ever-present cell-phone was produced. "Just stall. Take the longest way back you can think of." Alex ordered, lifting the phone to his ear. "Hey Li Ann. You three need to pack up, take the rental, and head home right away." He spoke into the phone.Victor took a left turn."We've got to cover our tracks." Alexei explained. "The three of us will hang on until Steven gets home. I want to make nice with him on the front steps so whoever is following us thinks the three of us were just staying with one of my boyfriends. That should explain this car and the house without drawing too much attention down on Stevie." The Russian glanced in the outside rear view mirror. "Always." He responded to her warning to be careful. "We'll be about a half day behind you...depending on the flights out of here. Love you, Beautiful. Get moving." Alex disconnected. He glanced sideways then over his shoulder to note Mulder seemed to have dozed off. "Are you okay with the deal we made, Victor?"His twin nodded, turning the car again. "I have to admit, I'm surprised by how much weight you put on the Agency taking Mac, Li Ann and I back in...if we asked." Victor looked over, searching Alex's expression, but finding nothing. "Don't you trust us to look after ourselves?""Khue"vye den'ki nastali." Alex sighed, glancing into the back seat yet again. "There are more things in heaven and earth..." He began again."Shakespeare never really did much for me." Victor interrupted, wincing.That earned a bleak chuckle. "What I'm trying to say is that there's a lot of weird shit going on in the world. I can't really explain it right now." Alex frowned. "And having multiple bolt holes...and more than one organisation backing you...well, it could save your lives someday.""A war in heaven, Krycek?" Mulder commented, proving he hadn't been asleep despite his posture.Alex clamed up, shifting to stare out the window with single-minded determination."I still don't get it. What the hell are you two talking about?" Victor demanded."History." Mulder chopped out the word to Victor, then turned his full attention on Alex. His tone was dangerous. "Your riveting little performance in my apartment set it all in motion didn't it?" Mulder questioned. "Since they burned us out I've seen so much more than I ever expected. The scope of their plans is daunting. I learned things that couldn't help but shake me up. I've been played like a chess piece. I've been moved around the board without any choice...and only the barest understanding." He stalled out, glaring at his inattentive audience. "I can't help but believe in extreme possibilities." Mulder stated. "But that resist or serve speech you subjected me to. After all that's happened between us, how can you expect me to take anything you tell me seriously? Whose side are you really on, Krycek?" The Agent straightened up in his seat.By contrast, Alex slumped down. "The side you should hope and pray wins, Mulder. I've been taking care of you and Scully as best I can, Mulder, as best as the restraints I'm under allow. You may not see it, but I'm one of the only allies you have right now. ""Alex Krycek, freedom fighter." Mulder said sarcastically. "Right.""Now is not the time for this conversation, Mulder." Alex fiddled with the door latch. "Timing is not one of your strengths.""And honesty is not one of yours." Mulder countered. "But evasion is. If you think I'm going to waste the time that you're trapped in my company while we go home...You're going to give me some answers.""Shut up Fox." Alexei exploded. "Can't you ever just be fucking quiet and do as you're told. E"b tvoju mat'! I can't do this right now. You don't realise all the shit that I'm trying to juggle." Alexei's tone dripped venom. "Don't keep fucking pushing me." "You don't scare me Krycek." Mulder snapped back."I should." The Russian hissed. He looked back over his shoulder, his green eyes narrowed to slits, his expression feral.Mulder fell silent, studying his opponent in a new light."Later..." Alex stated, soothed by the temporary compliance. "I promise, my nosy Fox. Very soon, just not today." His manner took on his customary oily flirt once more. "I'm not in the mood to expound on aliens for Victor, Mulder. Why don't you do it? It's your speciality after all.""Aliens?" Victor asked. "As in illegal immigrants?""Extraterrestrials." Mulder corrected, watching the rear view for Victor's reaction."As in UFOs from outer space?" Victor winced."Scully and I have worked on the X-files...at the Bureau..." Mulder began, leaning forward to speak directly into Victor's ear.Alex crossed his arms and stared out the window as Mulder explained.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|Mulder's explanation continued on in fits and starts throughout the ride to the house, the wait for Steven, the trip to the airport and most of the check in procedures. Alexei listened in with only half an ear at the beginning. He knew most of the story and Mulder wasn't giving up any secrets. His covert concentration on the tale grew more intense when Mulder got to his last encounter with Gentry and the vaccination that the old man had given over to save Scully. It was fairly easy to hide his interest since Victor had taken the plane seat between Alex and Mulder.Victor was proving himself to be a good audience. Only a few winces of disbelief and several leading questions disrupted his attention on the monologue. Victor's interest was slowly drawing everything Mulder was prepared to share out for Alex to hear. The Russian kept himself as unobtrusive as possible and listened in.Mulder's honest wonder at the craft he saw in Antarctica made Alexei smile. By the time Alex had first met Fox Mulder that kind of delight at the unknown had almost faded from Mulder's personality. Alex had seen only the occasional, blindingly seductive, spark of it.Mulder gradually wound down, settling back in his seat. "This is the point where most people contemplate looking up the phone number for the nearest mental institution." Mulder finished in a dry whisper."Actually..." Victor smiled. "I should think we reached that point over an hour ago.""Yes, well, no one ever said my expectations were reasonable." Mulder allowed.Victor looked sideways to Alex. "How much of this do you know?" Alexei shrugged crookedly. "Most of what Mulder told you.""And more?" His twin prodded.The grunt Alexei emitted was non-committal."Alex." Victor cautioned. "Don't stonewall me.""Not now. Not here." Alexei closed his eyes in denial. "Not for Mulder, not for you. Not yet." He repeated."Alex, please.""Nyet!" Alexei snapped. "Ni khuya, Viktor." The Russian crossed his good arm over the fake and huddled as far against the window as his seat allowed. " Poshe"l v pizdu, a to jebnu." Victor shook his head. "He's gone all Russian on us. That's the Alex equivalent of shutting his eyes and plugging his ears." Victor explained to Mulder. "It's immature and as annoying as hell." The last was spoken at a slightly louder level."How do you live with him?" Mulder glowered.Victor rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Alex never usually stays around long enough to wear past the 'we're so glad to see you' phase." Victor said. "That and...to be honest, Mac and I don't ask the tough questions and Li Ann's methods of information extraction...well...I'm not exactly sure how she handles Alex." A glance confirmed that Alex was still ignoring their existence. "When we land are you headed straight for home?" Victor asked."I suppose I should show up for work sometime this week." Mulder joked lamely.Victor nodded. "We could meet later..." He began awkwardly. "Maybe you could free up some time next weekend."Mulder's slight smile was grim. "Well, there were those three blonde playboy bunnies that have been leaving messages on my machine and that pesky presidential gala...but I could shake that all off.""Saturday night?" Victor guessed."It's a date."Alexei's dark head popped up at the last sentence. His upper lip curled.Victor consciously ignored his twin. "Where do you live, Mulder?""Alexandria, near DC" Mulder said. "But, no offence Victor, considering who you look like...it would be best if you kept well clear of my place.""Neutral ground then?" Victor suggested."Starbucks?"Victor grimaced. "Rooker's cut. It's a billiards bar in Atlantic City...south end. I've done some business meetings there.""Bad idea, brother of mine." Alex whispered softly.Victor shot Alex only a brief glance. "This has nothing to do with you." He explained gently.Alexei's eyes were cold. "Don't count on that. Talk to Li Ann.""Tell me yourself." Victor dared."Nyet. Li Ann." Alex hunched back in on himself once more.Victor thumped his head back into the padding of his seat. "What the hell are we doing?" He hissed. Mulder's bottom lip pushed out. "We don't have to.""Rooker's cut, Saturday at nine." Victor's tone was firm. "Do you want directions?""I'll find it." Mulder assured him.Alex sneered but said nothing further the rest of the flight.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^When Alexei and all his housemates got together they usually ended up gathering in Victor's apartment. For some reason Victor's place seemed to have the aura of a family home about it that the others' lacked. It was interesting to note that Li Ann and Mac seemed to be waiting in Mac's minimalist living room rather than Li Ann's clean elegance when the twins arrived home. At least that's what the light spilling out the top floor windows suggested.Alex parked the rental behind the car that they had searched for in the New York airport parking lot. Between the glow of the windows and the returned vehicle Alex and Victor knew Li Ann and Mac were already home."Are you coming in?" Victor asked his twin, releasing his seat belt."Yeah, I suppose so." Alexei pushed his door carefully open. "I've got nothing pressing...and overdue for a session with Li Ann." The Russian jested. He pulled open the back door and scooped up the briefcase he had borrowed from Steven. It held only a few odds and ends.Victor mirrored the action, retrieving his duffel bag. His green eyes watched as Alex locked up the car and stashed the keys. "You going to stay awhile?"They paced up the wide sidewalk to the front door. Victor pulled ahead, digging out his house keys. Steps squeaked under their combined weight."I suppose, if work will leave me alone for a few days." Alex caught the door after Victor unlocked and opened it. "I'd rather you stayed away from my Fox." Alex stalled in the doorway, his gaze wandering down the half-lit street. Victor hiked up the shoulder strap of his duffel into a more comfortable position. "He's not your Fox, Alex." Victor kept his voice soothing and non-threatening. "Your lover is waiting upstairs." He reminded the other. "I don't think Mulder wants you Alex." Victor continued mildly."You don't know anything about it Victor." Alex snapped defensively. "We've got history. He wants me. He's just so fucking repressed."Victor sighed. "Compared to you Alex, everyone in North America is repressed." His head shook. "If I meet Mulder..." Victor stepped into the stairwell. "What are you going to do?" The question was meticulously intoned to avoid it sounding anything like a challenge.Alexei brushed past. "I don't know." He padded up the stairs. "Anyone...anyone at all but you...I'd slit their throat." The threat hung in the air as Alex ascended.Victor swore to himself and followed. At the peak of the stairs Mac's apartment door opened. Victor sped up.Li Ann had drawn Alex into the apartment and her embrace. Their foreheads pressed together and her hand cupped Alexei's jaw. "We were worried about you two." Heavily lashed eyes raised and Li Ann opened the circle of her arms to welcome Victor into the hug.Victor dropped his bag on the landing and shifted forward. Dark lips pressed to his cheek as he joined them."I'm glad you're home safe." Li Ann murmured against his rough cheek. Her body moved, releasing Alex and pressing into Victor, a smooth exchange.Alexei turned, looking over to where Mac waited by the wide, dark windows. "Hey baby." Alex peered up through heavy lashes. "Mind if I crash here for a couple of nights?"Mac's hands were thrust deep into his pockets. "Stay the rest of your life, my Demon." He invited."I'm not really the marrying kind." Alexei joked.At the entrance Li Ann eased Victor out the door and closed it behind them."You're not laughing." Alex looked over Mac's shoulder and out the window at the city's lights.Mac crossed the room to stand right in front of his lover. Long fingers lifted to touch Alexei's nipple ring through the cotton of his shirt. He let the reminder of his home piercing speak for itself.Alex arched into the fingertip caress with a breathy sigh. Mac's lips brushed the other's small nose."I love you." Mac whispered.Alex stole a kiss. "Sweet baby." Alexei's thumb raised to stroke under Mac's ear. "I love you too.""Liar." Mac accused sadly.Alexei shrugged. He hooked his artificial arm around Mac's narrow waist and tugged their hips into contact. "Does it matter?"Mac's brow furrowed. "Yes." He grated out. "...but not that much.""Liar." Alex returned the accusation. He pressed for another kiss to avoid more words, opening his mouth in invitation.When the kisses gave way to panting Mac broke the clinch. He rested his hands on Alex's broad shoulders and pressed down. The Russian resisted the physical command long enough to make Mac snarl. Mac pushed harder.Alexei's smirk was as clear as saying 'you can only dominate me because I let you'."You're in a mood." Mac growled.Alex nipped at his lover's cheek. "What are you going to do about it?" He taunted. "Spank me?" Jade fire burned in Alexei's eyes, challenging.One of Mac's hands gave up on pushing. His fingers skimmed up Alex's throat and wove into the hair behind Alexei's right ear. He kissed the path his fingertips had taken, reverently breathing in the scent of leather and sweat. "You need another piercing." Mac teased his lover's lobe with one fingernail. "I want to get you something long and dangling that I can use as a leash." A handful of blackish-brown hair was seized. Mac pulled back admiring the way the other's neck arched. He then planted a kiss on the underside of Alexei's chin. "Bedroom. Now." Mac ordered. "And if...Alexei my love...if you make me happy, you'll get your spanking."Alex giggled, a strangely childish noise from a man his age, and rubbed his body obscenely against the other man. "And if I don't behave myself, Daddy?"Mac didn't dare let himself react to word 'Daddy'. It was just one more odd curlicue in Alexei's twisted psyche. "You know where the door is, brat." Mac threatened unconvincingly.Alex pulled away, leaving a few strands of hair in Mac's grip. "I'll go lay out the toys." The Russian headed for the bedroom door, shaking off his leather jacket as he went.Mac delayed long enough to lock the stairway door followed.\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|^ Milk and cookies time...Translations: pok gai Cantonese asshole tset ha Cantonese stupid fool Potomu chto ya lubitv ti Russian Because I love you. Mo'i pizdoi nakrylsja Russian I'm out of whack. (I think) connasse French cunt, bitch, etc Sans deconner! French No shit! putain French bloody hell!, fucking hell! Khue"vye den'ki nastali. Russian Bad days have come. e"b tvoju mat' Russian fuck you! Khue"vye den'ki nastali. Russian Bad days have come. e"b tvoju mat' Russian fuck you! ni khuya Russian No way! poshe"l v pizdu, a to jebnu" Russian Fuck off or I'll kick your ass
11305620	Silly Love Songs	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Allura (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron)", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by pixie_rings", "chapters": "5/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-26T00:00:00", "words": "7,466", "Additional Tags": "Allura Ship Week 2017, One Shot Collection, Dates, Gift Fic, Books, Storytelling, Memories, Digital Art, Grief/Mourning", "Relationship": "Allura/Shiro (Voltron)", "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 }	He wakes her up with a brief kiss and a wild grin she isn’t used to seeing on him, but she’s learnt that Shiro has a youthful streak the other Paladins don’t often get to see. She does, however, get to see it, and she loves it. It is the side that gives her the insatiable lover and the sweet, funny friend, the side she adores (though, of course, she loves every facet of him she knows, and each new one she discovers).“Get dressed,” he says, his tone strangely excited, and she wonders why.“What’s all this about?” she asks, slipping from the covers and reaching for her gown. She notices, with surprise, that he’s wearing his armour.“Maybe something a little more… practical?” he suggests. Her fingers falter, and she raises an eyebrow at him.“You’re taking me somewhere, I presume?” she says with a hint of amused suspicion, opening the sliding hidden door of her wardrobe and rummaging around for her combat suit, easily slipping it on like she’s done a thousand times before.The moment she steps from the wardrobe, Shiro’s face is an endearing shade of pink. She laughs as he bites his lip.“You’ve seen me in this a hundred times!” she says, a little incredulously.“You’re always so pretty,” he says, sounding breathless. She giggles again, stepping closer to him, pressing her hands to his chest.“It does wonders for my self-esteem when you look at me like that,” she says, and he leans down to kiss her, just as she wanted. His lips are soft, his hands broad on her waist, and she loves it when he kisses her, so reverent, yet so certain. She hopes she kisses back with the same intent.When they part, he takes her hand, the mischievous grin back on his face. “C’mon!”She lets him lead her along the corridors of the castle, trusting him to never guide her wrong even in such a silly moment as this. She can feel giddiness bubbling in her belly, excitement and anticipation – because, and she can tell from the low lights of late nightcycle, he would not have woken her this early were it not important.They reach the Black Lion’s hangar, and the Lion lowers her head, allowing them entrance. Which means they must be leaving the castle.“What is all this about?” she asks, using a little of her strength to halt him. He looks embarrassed now, as if he’s been caught doing something naughty. She likes the look on him: the slight flush, the way his hand rubs the back of his neck, the arch of his shoulders. He’s sweet like this, and it reminds her that he is indeed still young, despite the years his experiences have placed upon him.“Um… it’s a surprise?” he says, tentative, as if he’s worried she won’t agree to it. It breaks her heart to have to remind him that she trusts him, effortlessly, wholeheartedly, completely. She smiles reassuringly, rising up on her toes to kiss him again.“I’ll wait, then,” she assures him, and with a giggle skips up into the Black Lion’s cockpit.Shiro sits in the pilot seat, the console before him illuminates in bright purple, and he eyes her, one eyebrow raised. He clears his throat, glancing at his lap, and she bursts into a fit of giggles.“Fine!” she concedes, unable to even pretend to be annoyed, settling in his lap, swinging her legs over the arm of the seat. He nuzzles into her hair, chuckling foolishly, a sound she loves to hear, and with his hands on the control sticks and the hangar door opening for them, the Black Lion runs and rises out into the sky.They’ve settled on an uninhabited planet for a while, to catch a breath (which they can’t really afford, but desperately need), and it’s rather lovely. Different from Altea and, according to the Paladins, to Earth as well, but also just familiar enough to be comforting. But Shiro doesn’t land on the surface of the planet: rather, he takes to the sky, burning through the atmosphere until they breach it and have made it beyond.Out here, it is quiet. There are two moons, small ones, ahead, one a noxious green and the other sort of white. It is the second one that Shiro heads to. The satellite is too small for its own atmosphere, but Shiro lands the Lion with practiced ease.“Right, here we are,” he says. Allura stands, completely lost at sea and yet still excited, and waits for Shiro to open the hatch atop his Lion’s head. He pulls himself up first, then offers a hand to her, which she takes, allowing herself to be hoisted up. He is nowhere near as strong as an Altean or a Galra, but there is a certain thrill to the knowledge that he must make an effort to take her weight, even though it is minimal. It’s silly, but it almost feels that much more special when he carries her, knowing that it causes some exertion on his part.She chases away these silly notions and looks around at the surface of the moon. There are dull spires of some sort of mineral, pallid and perhaps somewhat translucent. Not far beyond them is the planet, purple and green and quite lovely, stretching over the moon’s horizon. Shiro sits atop the Black Lion’s head, legs dangling, and she sits next to him, snuggling against his side, enjoying the heaviness of his arm on her shoulders. It’s awkward, with their helmets on, but not uncomfortable.“So,” she murmurs, voice soft as if in fear talking too loudly might break some perfect spiderweb moment, “what are we here for?”“Shh,” he says, squeezing her shoulder. “You’ll see in a minute.”The planet they’ve chosen orbits a star much like the sun of the Paladins’ Earth, unlike Altea’s twin suns, and as they wait, it begins to peer over the horizon of the planet.Then, with a dazzling glint, its light touched the surface of the moon, and Allura’s breath is stolen from her.She can do nothing but gasp as the pale spires of crystal are lit with a thousand sunbeams, bouncing from column to column in a magnificent light show. They sparkle, they glimmer, they glint with a myriad of refractions, rainbows spilling over the moon’s surface, dancing like light on water but in too many colours to name.Allura raises her hand, and the light skips over her gloves. She kicks her legs, and the sunshards ripple over them. She laughs, joyous and full of wonder, clapping her hands in delight. She turns to Shiro, and she sees the light spill over him in a hundred pieces, so lovely, illuminating him, making him even more handsome and blinding than he already is.“Shiro, this is…” She’s lost for words. It’s breath-taking, beyond description, something so beautiful she could never have dreamt it, even in her wildest flights of fancy. She gets to her feet, spinning on herself to take in the entirety of the moon’s surface, every flicker and flutter of light and colour.Shiro stands beside her, takes her hand again and twirls her, laughing more happily than she has heard for a long time, and it’s contagious. She falls against him with her own laugh, feeling more full of joy than ever, and she looks up, meeting his eyes through the blue tint of their visors. Their helmets don’t allow them to kiss, and she desperately wishes she could, but pressing their visors together will have to suffice until she can kiss him senseless later.“Thank you,” she murmurs, and he hums in response.“You needed it,” he says. He doesn’t elaborate, but she’s been so nervous, so scared recently, and she knows exactly why he did it. Not for the first time, she wonders what she could have done to deserve a lover so caring, so loving, so sweet and kind and wonderful, to not only notice her anxiety but to try and help her through it. Tears prick the corners of her eyes as they flutter closed, and she sighs.“Thank you, arlnath,” she says again, winding her arms around his chest and holding him close, feeling safe and happy with the weight of his arms around her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Are… are you sure you don’t want to take Coran instead of me?”Allura sighed to herself. Shiro had been nervous about this diplomatic mission ever since she’d told him about it, and while she could understand it… she also couldn’t. She shook her head.“The Formorians care greatly about hierarchy. I can’t take Coran, he’s not my equal.”“I’m technically not your equal either,” Shiro mumbled. “I mean… you’re our commander.”Allura fixed him with a steely, unimpressed gaze, her eyebrows high. “Don’t be foolish.” She stepped closer to him, placing her hands on his chest, using him as leverage to kiss him. “You are the Head of Voltron, the Black Paladin and my lover. You are most certainly my equal.” Her expression turned mischievous, all bitten lip and sultry eyes. “Especially in bed.”Shiro’s cheeks turned a brilliant shade of pink and she pulled away, giggling. She yelped when Shiro grabbed her round the waist, pulling her back against him and nipping the tip of her ear.“You’re a menace.”“You love it!”He kissed the side of her neck, and hummed his agreement. She melted into his embrace, reaching back to weave her fingers in his fringe and hold him closer, tilting her head to the side to allow him more room. He continued to scatter kisses over her skin, his hands sliding down her body to settle on her hips.“We should… we should be preparing…” she breathed, even as she eyed the bed longingly. He hummed again, and the low rumble sent shiver through her. Oh, damn it all.She turned in his arms and pulled him into a searing kiss, guiding him back. He chuckled against her lips and fell back onto the bed with her. There would be time to pack later.The moment they set down with the Black Lion on Formoria, Allura found it hard to breathe. Her chest tightened as the First Elder greeted them, welcoming them to the planet. She closed her eyes, allowing herself a mere tick to compose herself, before smiling warmly and accepting the salutation.“We are honoured to be here, First Elder,” she said.She noticed Shiro looking at her, traces of worry in the crease of his brow and the tilt of his lips, and for the first time, she ignored him.“It’s good we get to share a room,” Shiro said, placing his helmet on the dresser and looking around in admiration. Allura sat on the bed, trying to ignore her surroundings, to quell the rippling memories that lapped at the edge of her mind. It was all too… familiar, and it hurt.“Allura?”Shiro’s voice dragged her back into the world, the warmth of his hand on her knee enough to anchor her to reality. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was grateful or not. She smiled, trying for reassuring but only really managing strained. He wasn’t buying it.“You’ve been distant since we arrived,” he said. He reached up to cup her cheek tenderly, and she felt a swell of deep affection in her chest, the gentleness of his touch waging war with the sense of emptiness inside. “What’s wrong?”She took a deep breath, pressing her hand against his, leaning into his touch. “Everything’s… everything is fine…”Shiro sighed. “Everything is not fine. You talk to me about my problems, why can’t I talk to you about yours?”Allura opened her eyes, meeting Shiro’s grey ones. He was right, of course: she was so used to being strong and unwavering… She let out a long, trembling breath and bent forward, pressing her forehead to his.“This place is too much like Altea,” she said, her voice quivering as she struggled to keep the wave of emotion from overpowering her. Everywhere she turned, there was something just close enough to home to remind her of what she’d lost, what she could no longer go back to. The clothing, the people’s faces, the architecture, the nature, even the twin suns… it hurt. It hurt to know something like this existed, and wherever she looked, she would see flashes of familiarity, echoes of towering cities of shimmering stone and metal, colourful buntings and flags and banners, the laughter of children, the debates in the College courtyard, the roar of the castleship’s engines as it left for the yearly change of capital…Shiro wound his arms around her, and she clung to him, her eyes shut tight against the tears. “It’s ok, Allura. It’s ok. You can cry, you can grieve. We have time.”So she wept. She wept into his neck, her shoulders heaving, her chest bursting with sorrow, with loss, with emptiness. She would never have Altea back. It was lost, lost forever, and throughout the universe there were places which would remind her of home, of what was gone and would never be found again.She cried for what felt like forever, until all she could feel was exhaustion. She pulled back from his embrace, back straight, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling. Her face was tight with salt from her tears, her eyes ached, her heart hurt. But her hands in Shiro’s kept her grounded, focused. He was there.She lowered her head to look at him, and smiled, small and weak but sincere. “Your knees must be awfully sore,” she mumbled, reaching up to rub the soreness from her eyes. Shiro chuckled, soft and sweet.“Yeah, but it’s ok.” He kissed the knuckles of the hand he still held. “It’s ok.”“We have a banquet to attend tonight,” Allura remembered with a sigh. She allowed herself to look around the room, to take in the architecture, the décor, the fabrics and the materials. It was all slightly different, but still similar, and she found that now it didn’t pain her as much to look at it. She admired it.Shiro groaned. “Don’t remind me… what the hell am I gonna wear? My armour?”Allura made a disgusted face. “Certainly not!” She shooed him away and stood, opening one of the two cases she’d made sure they brought. “Here we are!”Shiro blinked. “That’s… I didn’t even know we had that.”“Of course you have dress uniforms,” she said, as if the very idea of them not having them was both ludicrous and offensive. “We knew how to do things properly on Altea, you know. Go get ready!” She threw the tunic at him and turned to her own luggage, knowing exactly what she was going to wear.She had to take a moment when she finally saw him in full regalia. He always looked handsome, with his broad shoulders and military bearing, but this was the first time she’d seen him in something other than his armour or casual clothing (naked didn’t count) and… she really did need a moment. He’d slicked back his hair, and was adjusting his right sleeve so it didn’t catch in the joints of his prosthesis. The tunic clung to him, emphasising the sharpness of his muscles and the breadth and bulge of his chest. The leggings were also sinfully tight, his legs long and powerful and in all honesty, all she wanted to do was tear it all off him again.“Is it ok?” he asked.“Do you even need to ask?” she said, silently begging the Ancients for strength. Not only was he the handsomest she’d ever seen him, but he was also wearing something Altean, and not for the first time she wished they’d met in a time a which was more carefree, more forgiving.“Well, I mean, it’s always good to kn-” He stopped mid-sentence, and she raised a curious eyebrow. “Wow,” he breathed.She twirled, unable to resist, her lilac skirts following her movement like the dancing waters of Western Temzora. “I take it my attire is to your liking?” she teased.He chuckled. “Do you even need to ask?” he said, and the reverence in his voice was humbling. The way he spoke, the simple breathlessness… it made her still, tuck her hair back, her face flushed, shyer than she could remember even being in front of someone who found her attractive. Shiro always did this to her, his sincere adoration breaking down every ounce of confidence she had and building it up again, even stronger than before.“We should go,” she mumbled, and he offered her the crook of his arm. It took her a tick to understand what he wanted her to do, but she figured it out, and tucked her arm in his. “Do you think there’ll be dancing?” he asked. “I’m… not a great dancer.”“If there is, I’ll lead,” she said breezily. “I don’t really know any dances from this planet anyway, we’re going to look ridiculous whatever we do.”“Yeah, I’m thinking the band won’t know any waltzes,” he said with a laugh.“I don’t know what a waltz is, my love,” she replied, and his laughter deepened.Although the banquet was mostly a discussion of war, Voltron, the Galra and a myriad of other, horrible things, the food was delicious, and Allura could almost lose herself in the laughter and hum of voices in conversation, the soft accompaniment from the musicians, the crystalline chandeliers spilling light through the banquet hall. It was almost like ten thousand years ago, ten Altean lifetimes past when the Castle of Lions would ring with music and mirth, when times were happier.When she looked to her right, however, whenever she heard his voice or their legs brushed beneath the table, she remembered that ten thousand years ago, there had been no Shiro. It grounded her somewhat, keeping her from chasing memories to where she couldn’t return.After the banquet, she was invited to dance with the First Elder.“Do forgive me any clumsiness, I find myself lacking in knowledge of your dances,” she said. The First Elder chuckled courteously.“Do not worry at all, Princess,” he said. “Our dances are not that difficult.”Not far from them, Shiro stood with a handful of other Councilmembers, and he would occasionally lose the thread of conversation as he watched her, and their eyes would meet. The First Elder chuckled again, this one with more of a conspiratorial tint.“He is certainly handsome,” he said. “And the Black Paladin of Voltron. A wise choice for a spouse, Princess.”She couldn’t help blushing. “I… Thank you, First Elder,” she stammered, unsure of how to respond.“We are going through a tumultuous time in the history of the universe,” he said wearily. “Allow yourself to build the foundations of happiness that will come after.”She looked up at him, and for a fleeting instant, she could see a shadow of skin like hers, hair like hers, a pointed beard and eyes that brimmed with wisdom and kindness. She couldn’t look at him for too long.The music ceased, ready for another, and a throat was cleared beside them. “Mind if I cut in, Sir?”The First Elder nodded graciously. “Not at all, Black Paladin.”Shiro took Allura’s hand with a grin, and she smiled back, unable to stop it. The musicians began another piece, sweeter, gentler, and made for lovers. Shiro’s hand curved around her waist, pulling her closer. Allura gathered her skirt, and let him guide – for all his lack of confidence in his dance skills, he wasn’t bad at all. The dance was simple, a one-two-three that required little concentration, and it let her revel in the moment. It was almost too easy to imagine them in the main hall of the Castle of Lions, dancing to Altean music, surrounded by Altean dancers. He would have been extraordinarily attractive with pointed ears and purple markings, she thought, but then cast the thought aside. There was no Altea anymore, but there were other things: there was Voltron, and Coran, and the other Paladins. There was Shiro’s closeness, his strength and warmth, his touch, his scent, his familiarity. There was the music, and the voices, and the dancers, and it was enough. It was enough to still have points of joy and happiness in the middle of war. The man she loved was with her, what more could she have ever wished for?“You ok?” he asked softly. She looked at him, a smiled spreading over her face.“I’m more than ok,” she said, and it was sincere. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Ever since they rediscovered it, she’s been spending much of her time in the library. The books, a hoard of traditional knowledge preserved impeccably for ten thousand years by the environmental stabilisers, are a precious memory of the importance her father placed on their heritage, and of him. She can no longer ask his memories for advice, but perhaps there is advice to be had here, hidden between the shelves, nestled among the pages.However, and she feels somewhat guilty about it, she finds herself drawn to old novels, beloved tales of childhood and adolescence she remembers daydreaming about. It’s like finding old friends: characters she loves, plots she’s forgotten the details of, little stylistic quirks of her favourite authors. She tries not to think about how they are all long dead, and focus on the familiarity of them, the embrace of the words, soft and comforting.It’s where she goes when she wants to escape from the endless succession of combat and hardship. And Shiro learns to find her there.“What are you reading?” he asks, every time. Sometimes she blushes, a little embarrassed to be found reading a children’s book, but he never judges her. On the contrary, he listens intently, remarking on things, picking up on the same details she always did – and some she never considered. And he remembers them outside the library, referencing little shared snippets that make her giggle and confuse the others, in-jokes based on shared knowledge she jealously hoards.They’ve taken to curling up together on one of the reading couches in the library, his warm weight behind her such a comfort, the only noise to be heard the shared rhythm of their breathing and the soft crisp snap of pages as she turns them. He usually naps, which is something he desperately needs, and she usually just reads, losing herself in worlds that, after so much time and so much strife, she loves to rediscover. It’s peaceful and beautifully intimate, and sometimes she pretends that there’s no war, no Voltron, no Galra, and this is all they ever need to do.She never reads to him, since translating the nuances of Altean literature would be terribly finicky and give her a headache and the castle’s inbuilt translator wouldn’t be able to share the load, so she just describes the plots and characters. His favourite, so far, is the Ayzadi the Were-Lion series, and Allura’s overjoyed about that, since it was always her favourite too.“You know, I’m always telling you about my favourite stories,” she says one day, just after she’s finished telling him about the third book. “You should tell me yours.”They are lying on their usual couch, Shiro’s arms around her as she leans back against him, between his legs. He chuckles.“I don’t know any Altean stories,” he jokes, and she nudges him playfully.“No, silly, tell me your favourite Earth stories!” she says. He hums thoughtfully.“So, like… books or movies?” he asks.“What are movies?”“Books it is, then. We’ll talk about movies another time.” He is quiet for a moment, and she waits patiently, oddly excited. It feels like they’re going to share something secret and intimate, something special.“Well, there’s The Lord of the Rings, I always really liked that one,” he says. She snuggles back against him, looking up hopefully, and he chuckles. “Ok then.”He tells her about Frodo, Sam and the Ring. He tells her of Gandalf the Grey who became Gandalf the White, of Aragorn, of Legolas and Gimli, Merry and Pippin. He tells her of Éowyn, King Théoden and the Rohirrim, of the Men of Gondor, Lothlórien and Rivendell, and of Mordor. The grand themes are familiar enough: good and evil, darkness and light, the struggle of good people against forces that would take their freedom and their lives. It hits a little close to home.“I like Aragorn,” she says. “I like how certain he is of his duty. He’s very relatable.”Shiro laughs. “Well, back on Earth, the Hobbits are the most relatable. The little people thrown into something much bigger than they are. Kind of like me and the other Paladins.”She purses her lips thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s understandable… I am annoyed by the lack of female characters and characters with other genders, though. Why are there only three women and no, what do you call Pidge?, non-binary characters?”“Uh, well… back when it was written, no one had really figured out what non-binary was. We… kinda thought your sex dictated your gender.”Allura turns to stare at him, and he has the decency to look sheepish. “Humans bewilder me,” she says, settling down again, still somewhat perturbed.“Well, we’re kind of stupid,” he admits with a chuckle. “When Tolkien was writing, women didn’t really have many roles outside being wives and mothers.”Allura shakes her head in disgust. “And you say this was only one hundred years ago, in Earth years?”“Yeah… we try not to think of stuff like that,” Shiro admits, his tone slightly gloomy. Allura thinks it’s probably wise to talk of other things.“Oh, I did like Aragorn and Arwen’s romance!” she says. “It’s… also relatable.”“Oh? Well, I guess Alteans are kind of like space elves,” Shiro admits. “You guys live longer than we do, right?”“Our oldest recorded Altean was 4364 Earth years old,” she says. “But we don’t live forever. That seems awful.”“Yeah, it does. Humans have all these stories about people who live forever, it’s like… we’re desperate for it.”“Your lives are very fleeting,” Allura says. She takes Shiro’s hand, traces his fingers, the fine scar at the base of his thumb from a childhood cat scratch, twining her slim fingers with his to enjoy the contrast of their skin. She doesn’t dare to state the obvious the knowledge that Shiro’s life is also fleeting, and how she will outlive him so easily. The thought is horrifying, so she chases it away, ignores it, pretends she never had it.“We do ok with what we have,” he says.“That’s a positive outlook to have,” she concedes. She turns her head slightly, her nose touching the edge of his collar, feeling the sliver of warmth from his skin. “Are there any more stories you could tell me?”“Well… there’s a lot of Tolkien to cover,” Shiro says. “He wrote so much. His son was forever finding new bits and pieces in his notes. But there are other things too. There’s Dune, and Gormenghast, and A Song of Ice and Fire… I think I remember all the names.”“Are there a lot of characters?”Shiro’s chuckle is slightly strained. “You could say that, yeah.”“I like Tolkien’s stories. You can continue with those, if you want?”“I like those too.”Shiro continues his tales, and Allura listens intently, cradled by the sound of his voice as he weaves the words to half-remembered stories, doubling back, meandering, wandering, stuttering. Maybe one day, when she can see all the things the Paladins describe, she can read these stories for herself. Until then, the rumble of Shiro’s voice and the warmth of his embrace are more than enough. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Hey, Allura…”She hums, just to let Shiro know she is listening. It’s quiet in her room, in their bed, with her head pillowed on his chest and only the sound of their breathing to break the silence. She is close to drifting off to sleep, her eyes gently closed and her limbs lax.“Have you… have you ever considered having kids?”At first, she thinks she’s misheard, but the words jolt her awake, make her rise to look at him.“What?”His expression is guilty, and he cannot hold her gaze. He looks away, to the side, his fingers slipping from her waist.“It’s nothing, never mind…”“No, no, it’s all right… I just… I wasn’t expecting it.”She settles back down, leaning on his chest, her chin propped up on her hand. Now that she thinks about it, she has no idea. She’d never considered motherhood before, not even in her wildest dreams, and to think about it now, in the eye of the storm of conflict, is slightly surreal. How could they bring a child into this broken, war-torn universe? What parents could they call themselves if they did that?“I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it before,” she admits, trying to be tactful. “Have… have you?”Shiro seems to find the courage to look at her again, and his fingertips meet her skin, spots of warmth she’d missed when they’d gone.“I like kids,” he says, and it sounds vaguely like he’s avoiding a real answer. She pokes him.“Be sincere,” she orders, and it gets her a chuckle, at least.“Well… I mean, I do like kids. I guess I always kind of wanted to be a dad? I wanted to have kids, take care of them, raise them, teach them, bring more people into my family.” His wistful look clouds over, shadows of regret falling over him. “Now I’m not so sure.”As always when he retreats inwards, she reaches out to tuck his hair back, to gently trace his scar with her thumb. When he starts to turn away, to go where she cannot follow, she calls him back as best she can.“Why the doubt, my love?”Shiro’s eyes flutter, and he comes back to her, his eyes seeing her again. “I… I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of, you know…” He flexes the fingers of his prosthetic, taps his temple. That makes her scowl.“I fail to see how your trauma could affect your ability to be a good father,” she says.“I could… you’ve seen what it can get like. What if I did something that-” “Are you forgetting I’d be there?”His eyes widen, almost as if he hadn’t factored her into the equation in the slightest. It hurts, but she quashes the pain for a time more apt to addressing it. Shiro has a tendency to forget that he is her arlnath, sometimes, and that means she will be with him for as long as she can.“I would be there, and I would keep both you and our child safe,” she murmurs, cupping his cheek. “What good would I be as a mother and a lover if I couldn’t protect either of you?”Shiro closes his eyes, tight, pressing his hand to Allura’s, keeping her warmth touch close. She can see the tremor of his chin and the crease of his brow, the faint shine of a tear threatening to fall. She leans forward, presses her lips to his, to let him know he is never alone.“So, you’d… you’d want to have children? With me?”To her, it is a foolish question, one that barely requires an answer because it is so obvious, but Shiro doubts, and she knows he doesn’t mean to.“I… I must admit, I never thought of it before now, but…” She allows herself to imagine a time when the war is over, when the universe is free and at peace and they can build a home together, wherever they wish. She imagines a child, with his nightsky hair and her eyes and it’s an image so humbling and yet so uplifting it almost steals her breath. “I would happily create a new life with you, Shiro.” He finally smiles, as if she’s given him the greatest gift she ever could. “Are we even compatible? Biologically?”She smirks. “Alteans are compatible with almost every species that reproduces via intercourse. So yes, I definitely think we are.”He laughs at that, and his laughter is always the most welcome of sounds.“Well, that’s good, then,” he says, and he sounds lighter, less weighed down by everything. “You gotta admit, we’d make some damn fine kids.”It’s her turn to laugh, and she does, sniggering behind her hand. “Oh, certainly… but only if they had my ears. I wouldn’t wish these hideous things on anyone.” She reaches out and tugs on his for emphasis. She still finds them terribly bizarre. She catches herself staring at them, sometimes, bewildered at their round shape and tiny size. How can they even hear with those things?“My ears are perfectly fine, you,” he mutters, but he cannot mask his grin with faux-annoyance. “I’d like for them to have your eyes, though. They’re so pretty.” She smiles at that. “Your hair, I do love how dark it is. I’d love for our children to have that.”“So… would you want more than one?”There is a stutter in her mind then: the laughter of children, a rainbow of hair hues and facial markings, playing together. Children that could never grow up, who’d seen so little of life.“I’m not sure yet,” she admits, biting her lip. “We should start with one.” She toys with the idea of keeping her thoughts to herself, but… but that’s not what a relationship is, is it? “I… I’ll admit that before we lost Altea, I never thought about it. But now… now I wonder whether I have a duty?”“Allura… don’t. Don’t think of it as something you have to do. I wouldn’t want our kid to think they weren’t wanted.”She gives him a horrified look. “Never! Never, Shiro! What do you take me for?” She shakes her head. “No, I would want this child. Our child. I’d never…” Her hand trembles as it goes to her stomach, flattens upon it. “I’m not trying to repopulate the universe, I want to make a family with you!”He winds his arms around her, pulling her close. He kisses the tip of her nose. “I know. I… I want that too.”She closes her eyes, sighing. Now that thinks about it, she wants it terribly. And perhaps… perhaps it is good to think of what the future can bring, if only to get them through this alive. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It doesn’t take too long for Shiro to realise Allura is as broken as he is.He envies her composure, her strength, her unwavering determination, at first. She has it together, more than he ever will, and he’s grateful for the fact he doesn’t have to shoulder the burden of leadership on his own. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, when has he ever? He may be an adult, but he never really felt like one, and now he feels older, but even more lost. His time in the Arena has added years, even as it stole one away. Allura, though… Allura knows what she’s doing. She’s confident, certain, controlled, and everything Shiro wishes he was in this situation. He wants to know what to do, but she does know what to do, and it’s such a relief.Even when they start this… thing, she appears to have it sorted. She’s a master at not revealing it to the rest of the team, sneaking around behind their backs like it’s something to be ashamed of, but he finds himself wishing he could develop such a detachment to what they have even as his remaining hand longs to thread its fingers with hers in front of everyone and murmur his affection in subtle displays. But he keeps himself together because she keeps herself together, and for a while, it’s not great, but it’s fine.It’s only once they’re finally in this for the long haul, together, with words of love and loyalty exchanged, that the cracks begin to show in her façade.He finds her in the hologram room which once housed King Alfor’s AI. She sits there, legs tucked beneath her, back to the door, and so distant she might as well be a hundred lightyears away and ten thousand years ago. There is still some shattered glass around, like scattered diamonds. He steps forward, his heart aching, his tread light but present so as not to take her by surprise.“Allura?” he murmurs, kneeling beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder.It’s like she’s being dragged back up from the depths: she re-emerges from the ocean of memories, taking a breath like she’s breaching the surface, and she turns to him. Her eyes barely see him, still very far away, and her smile is placid, a little disconcerting.“Sorry, Shiro. I was miles away.”He smiles comfortingly. “It’s ok. It’s late, shall we go to bed?”She nods, slow and uncertain at first, before her movement gains in strength. Her smile broadens, brightens, but her eyes have yet to regain their sparkle.“Of course.”He takes her by the hand, walks slowly, keeps respectfully quiet, and his heart breaks anew when he sees her glance over her shoulder at the shards of all that is left of what was once her father.She never strays often, but when she does, she strays achingly far. He knows that when his mind takes over, envelops him, begins to clog his brain with memories real and false and painful, he goes very far away, but Allura… Shiro’s disappearances are confined to a year: Allura vanishes to ten millennia ago.And it’s not just these moments of distance, where a chasm opens between them and he has to walk a high wire with no safety net to get to her, it’s cacophonous bursts of horror during the night. He has his own to deal with, and her presence is a comfort that has settled his screaming mind as it tries to rattle the cage of his mind, but hers are insidious, and very different to his own.Sometimes, the most frequent times, she wakes up, face streaked with tears, sobbing, from dreams of her lost homeworld. She says things in Altean the translator won’t capture, lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, hands trembling as they clutch at her chest. Her markings glow, her eyes are dull, and she’s in a trance that is a whirlwind of things she can never have back. When these times happen, he can only wait, feeling powerless, murmuring empty words of comfort, stroking her hair and trying to coax her back to him like a skittish deer.Other times, she tosses and turns and whimpers, awakening with a cry and he has to fight to keep her with him, to remind her that Altea is no longer burning and its people no longer scream in the flames, long reduced to ashes. And when she remembers, when the knowledge of the ten thousand years between this moment and the day her people all died, she cries: she buries her face in his chest, clinging to him, younger and more afraid than he’s ever seen her, sobbing desperately. These times are fewer, thank God, but they’re there. They happen, when the weight of her loneliness is as crushing as the void, but they’re fewer. They only occur when she’s been reminded of Altea and the fact it’s gone, the family and friends gone with it.Shiro has his own demons: they haunt him, stalk him in the day ready to tear his psyche to shreds at night, and they’re painful. But he isn’t alone: he isn’t one of only three left, one of which can barely be counted. Earth is still there, the little blue planet on the edge of the universe with its eight billion people, still a tiny, bright, living, breathing speck in the infinite. Allura is alone: there is Coran, and there’s the witch, but there is no one else. And what was left of Altea, the ashes of an entire civilisation, has dispersed into the vacuum of space long, long ago. Shiro can’t imagine what that even feels like.But she is always there for him, when the weight of existence knocks the air from his lungs during the night and spreads darkness in his head that leaks from his pores, and so he’s always going to be there for her. If he wasn’t, he’d been a shitty friend and an even poorer boyfriend. So he’ll hold her. He’ll put his own demons on hold by sheer force of will while she fights hers, but it hurts to see her attempt to keep it inside, to see her try to remain strong when her bones are brittle and her resolve is crumbling.“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks once, after she is calmer, after she can breathe without panting and the tears have dried.“About… about what?” she croaks, her voice raspy and strained.“Just… Altea?”She pulls away just enough to look at him, her eyes red and puffy. She blinks quickly, as if she’d never even considered that a possibility.“I…” She reaches up to scrub at her cheeks with the heel of her hand. It takes her a while to figure out how words work, and how she can make them fit with what she wants to say. “Yes,” she breathes. “I do.”Shiro settles them down. He cradles her close, forehead pressed to hers, arms around her, needing to remind her she is safe and secure. He waits, as long as she needs, and then she starts talking.She tells him of her father, and her mother, and Coran, her tutors and friends. She tells him of childhood pets. She tells him of adventures and mischief she got into, that make him laugh, and of sad moments, of little flickers of loss that with hindsight seem so insignificant, which make him sad for her.She speaks of prior lovers, of royal duties and moments she could snatch to just be Allura, a young Altean with hopes and dreams and likes and dislikes. She tells him of when her mother died. She tells him of when Coran came into her and her father’s lives. She tells him of Zarkon, and how they trusted him. She tells him of the Lions, of Voltron, of Altea’s nature and its cities and flora and fauna and festivals.She tells him of Altea, the only remnant of it her memories and the castleship around them, until her voice is sore and she has to stop, until she’s falling asleep with exhaustion.“Thank you,” she mumbles, nuzzling into his neck drowsily.“You’re welcome,” he murmurs back, kissing her forehead.The next morning, it feels like she is close again. She is tangible and beside him, the shell of the woman he loves once again filled with the bright, beautiful essence of her soul and mind. She sits on the edge of their bed, hair cascading down her bare back, looking at her hands on her legs. He gently moves her hair, kisses her shoulder, and for the first time in a while, she looks at him, not through him. She smiles, and her eyes are brighter, like the stars he saw when she first stepped from the cryopod.“Feeling better?” he asks, soft, afraid to break the spun-glass moment. She nods, leans into him, pressing their foreheads together. “Much better,” she says, her voice still rough. She takes his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry, Shiro.”“Don’t apologise,” he says fiercely. “You were hurting.”She places a hand to her chest, over her heart. “I don’t think it will ever stop,” she says. “But… it isn’t hurting as much.”He understands. She will still cry. She will still mourn. She will still wake up the names of the lost on her lips and salt-tracks on her cheeks, but she will no longer be in a place he cannot reach.“Thank you,” she says, winding her arms around his neck, her body soft, smooth and warm against his. His arms encircle her, holding her close, and their kiss is soft, more than chaste, but it is full of gratitude and affection and Shiro holds it dear.“You’re welcome,” he replies, again, like the night before, the unspoken assurance that he would do it forever if he needed to more than understood.
11370798	Being Grisha	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "G Callen, Anna Kolcheck, Michelle Hanna, Sam Hanna, Nikita Alexsandr Reznikov, Alexandra Reynolds, Jake Reynolds", "Fandom": "NCIS: Los Angeles", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Jo_Raven", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-01T00:00:00", "words": "5,670", "Additional Tags": "grisha alexandrovich nikolaiev, cause he deserves to be called by his actual name once in a while, callanna, mattress conversation, callen deserves a break, also they're in love but they're not ready, No Smut, Shoulder Kissing, spoiler last season ending, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Grisha Callen deserves more hugs, mention of cloth thievery, Bathroom Sex, not explicit though, Family, otp: maybe being broken is normal", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "G Callen/Anna Kolcheck, Michelle Hanna/Sam Hanna", "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 }	He’s already pretty much gone cause she’s a smartass who can fight and also never asks silly questions such as ‘what does the G stands for’ and ‘why do you sleep on a mattress in your living room while your house has several functioning bedrooms’. The mattress conversation ends him. And it’s not like he’s never had the mattress conversation, okay? He’s had it several times already, with Hetty, with Sam, with Joelle at the time, literally with every single person who’s been inside his house because apparently where he sleeps and in which conditions is everybody’s main concern and can they all just give him a fucking break and mind their own damn business? To be fair, he’s the one who starts the mattress conversation. Which should have hinted him off that something was up cause he’s never been the one to initiate the mattress conversation ever. He hates the mattress conversation. He fails to see the point of the mattress conversation. He blames Hetty for the mattress conversation? - Hey, do you think we should get a room? Literally I mean. He’s aware that she’s already half asleep. He’s aware because 1) his mattress is not made for two people to sleep on it (also two people sleeping on it while naked is pretty fun if one of the people is him and the other one a beautiful woman so like… Cool.) and 2) he’s been an active participant in the activities of the last hour which led to an half asleep Anna and an insomniac Callen over thinking stuff. So he’s not exactly expecting any coherent answer. He doesn’t get any coherent answer and appreciates the knowledge that his brain is still working at two in the morning. - ...чем черт возьми ты говоришь...? He swallows a giggle because he doesn’t giggle, and kisses her shoulder as an apology for not letting her sleep. He loves her shoulders cause they’re the softest thing he’s ever touched in his whole entire life. She’s the softest thing he’s ever touched in his whole entire life. Which makes him both grateful and worried. Soft things don’t tend to hang around him for very long and it’s been a while already. A year in fact. They’ve been seeing each other for a year. The realization kind of let him breathless for a minute. He gathers his shit together so she doesn’t notice, clears his throat and carries on. - It’s just… I was just thinking we could use one of the upstairs rooms if you wanted… And, you know, use an actual bed. She turns around to face him and for a moment she has that sleepy fog in her eyes which means she’s not completely focused yet. He thinks it’s adorable. Then mentally slaps himself because he never finds things adorable except very small children and animal shaped lollipops. The fog clears out and she asks : - Are you breaking up with me? Which makes him both suffocate and burst out laughing and in case anyone was wondering no, that’s not practical. - Are you kicking me out of your mattress? she clarifies with a fake-annoyed look. He manages to get his lungs working normally long enough to answer something like : - The fuck are you talking about? - I don’t know, what the fuck are you talking about? - I’m talking about sleeping in a bed, in a room. - Why ? You don’t like your mattress and your living room anymore? It hits him that it’s probably not the kind of conversation you have at two in the morning. Then it hits him that most normal people don’t have conversations at two in the morning cause they’re asleep. He’s so not normal. - No, he answers carefully. I still like my… I still like my mattress and my living room. - Great. Then why are you asking…? - I don’t know, I thought maybe you wanted to! She looks at him very seriously for a second, then sighs. - Callen, did I say anything about wanting to sleep in a bed? He thinks about it for a minute in case she did say something and it slipped his mind, comes up blank, and allows himself a soft : - No. - You want to know why? - Why? - Because I like your mattress. On that she turns around and falls back asleep. It’s like a superpower she’s got, she can fall asleep really quick. He admires her for that. He knows he won’t be sleeping for at least a few hours so he should probably get up and do something productive like practice his French or take the coffee maker apart. Instead he kisses her shoulder one more time because he fucking can because he’s been seeing this woman for a year now so that means he’s allowed to kiss her shoulder from time to time, especially when she’s asleep, naked, on his mattress. He puts an arm around her and let his forehead brush her back and think yeah, I get it, you’re a keeper, alright. (He later thinks ‘you’re fucking perfect is what you are’ but he gets an other mental slap for that so he tries and never thinks it again.) ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- He stays alone with Michelle’s body for a while after Sam has left. He doesn’t know why. He’s been crying and he doesn’t cry much. He’s not mad about it though. Michelle is worth crying for.(Why why why why why why why why why why why…)Sam’s car is long gone by the time he gets out of the morgue. He can’t stand the empty dark street ahead of him, neither the building in his back, so he gets in his car and drives. He doesn’t pay attention where he’s going until he finds himself parked down Anna’s building.It’s stupid.He’s gonna wake her up.And even if he doesn’t he has no right…But someone should tell her. She didn’t know Michelle but she knows Sam.He could tell her tomorrow.He could call.He calls.- Hey…- Did I wake you?- No, I was reading. Are you okay?He waits. He wants to hang up. Instead his hand clutches the phone so hard it hurts, like he’s afraid of what would happen if he let go.- No, he says after a while. Can I come up?She couldn’t have known he was calling from down the street but she doesn’t sound surprised, doesn’t even pause before saying :- Yes, of course, I’ll buzz you in.He keeps the phone to his ear while he climbs the stairs, ignoring the elevator –he’d lose the connection, and besides he doesn’t like elevators. Her apartment’s door is open. She’s wearing one of his shirt and not much else. He hangs up and tugs his phone back in his pant pocket.- Are you okay? she asks again.He knows he must look like shit. He hopes she can’t tell he cried. He stands in the doorway like a moron and when she touches his arm he kind of staggers on his feet.- Callen, what’s wrong? What happened? Come in…He lets her pull him in and into her arms, and she closes the door behind him without letting go. He buries his nose in the crook of her shoulder. She smells nice. He likes that she’s wearing his shirt to bed.He shouldn’t be allowed to think and feel like that right now what the hell is wrong with him? Shit he’s going to cry again. He closes his eyes to keep the tears in but he can’t help the little shake that run through his whole body and she feels it, wraps her arms around him and cradles the back of his head in one hand, rubs his back with the other with a soothing sound. He hears himself croak :- It’s Sam…She immediately pulls out of the hug and holds him by the arms with a worried look.- What’s wrong? Is he hurt?- No, he’s…He was gonna say ‘he’s okay’ but that’s the stupidest and least accurate way to describe Sam’s state right now so he bites his tongue almost to blood, swallows and makes himself say :- His wife died this morning.He looks down at their feet but not fast enough to miss the veil of sadness that shapes her expression –sadness at the thought of someone close to them dying, sadness for Sam, and by extension sadness for him, and he hates it, he’s so mad at himself, that’s why he shouldn’t have come, this is not about him, why the fuck does he have to make it about him while Sam is…His brain shuts up for a minute when she takes him back into her arms, whispering against his shirt :- I am so sorry…He wants to answer something but doesn’t know what to say so he just holds her very tight and tries and fails to keep himself from shaking. His eyes still burn.(He hates himself so bad right now.)- Sam’s not okay, he chokes out.That’s so stupid, of course Sam’s not okay, what else is new?- Do you think I should call him?- No… I mean… Tomorrow maybe, he must be with his kids right now… Or… On his way there…He has to stop in between sentences cause the crying is still trying to crawl up his throat and out of his mouth and eyes each times he blinks or speaks and he really doesn’t want to cry in front of her. Anna takes a few steps back, pulling him with her, turns them around and sits him on her couch. They’re kind of in the dark except for the street lights and the one coming from her room, and it occurs to him that she probably expected them to end up there pretty fast if she didn’t bother to light up the living room. He wants to joke about that. Realizes that if he opens his mouth now all that’s gonna come out is a sob so he keeps it closed. She doesn’t say anything either and sometimes he’s so thankful for Anna Kolcheck if he was a believer he would make a fucking huge donation to his local church.It takes him a minute to gather his shit together and that’s when he notices that she had taken off one of his shoes and is working on the second one.- What… are you doing?- I’m taking off your shoes.- Yeah, I can see that. Why are you taking off my shoes?She’s avoiding his gaze which means she’s being nervous which means he’s gonna kiss her at some point within the next few minutes.- I am making you comfortable.He honestly doesn’t know what to answer that and she finishes taking off his shoes while he’s busy being taken aback. By the time he remembers how to English she’s taken away his jacket as well.- Do you want to tell me about it?She throws his jacket away and straddles his laps and oh, okay, they’re going back to the hugging thing. Okay, he’s not gonna question that part, she still smells nice and in that position he can slip one of his hands up her thigh and under his shirt and okay this is grounding and comforting on a scale he has no memory of. He’ll be concerned about it tomorrow.- I’d rather… Can we… Can we talk about it tomorrow? Can we… Not talk right now?She kisses his neck, his temple, then the line of his hair, whispers :- Okay…And kisses his hair one more time before making them lie on the couch with his head on her shoulder. He keeps one hand on her thigh, drawing little circles on her skin with his thumb while she pets his hair and they don’t talk, don’t do anything, don’t go anywhere, just lie there together, and he lets it wash over him like waves in the Pacific. The pain. The loss. Michelle was his friend. He liked her. She had two children. She was Sam’s life, his sun and stars. She was such a nice person, why, that’s unfair, why, Sam didn’t deserve this…(He doesn’t cry, but he lets himself hurt a little bit and that’s okay.)(He also lets himself hold Anna while he thinks ‘I’m so glad you’re alive’ and he doesn’t give himself a mental slap for that one, because he had a hard couple of days and he’s allowed nice things from time to time.) ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- His birthday used to come and go unnoticed even by him.Especially by him.Birthdays ain’t any fun when the people supposed to be so happy you were born they have a celebration every year about it aren’t there.As a little kid he used to sit by the window of whichever house he was staying at, on his birthday. He would watch the street until night fall and his eyes start burning, and if nobody sent him to bed he would watch some more after that. Waiting. Hoping without hoping cause he already knew hoping was a bad idea. But he was too young to fight against the delirious fantasies developing inside his head. A car stopping by. A man or a woman (sometimes both) getting out, rushing to the door, banging it open, fighting the assholes trying to keep him from them, scooping him in their arms to take him home with them.One year someone threw a brick through the window while he was watching. It didn’t hit him but he got some broken glass on his face and had to be driven to the hospital. The foster lady yelled at him like it was his fault, what business did he have sitting by that window all day long, uh?He stopped after that. It was useless anyway. Since he started working for the NCIS his birthday’s become something that actually happen, not just a regular day flying by unnoticed. Granted nobody ever tried to throw him a party –they all know him too well to imagine he would show up. But his birthday is a thing in the quiet “Happy birthday” whispered by Nell and Eric when he’s on his way out, in Kensi’s knowing smile, in the way Deeks can’t help but joke about him being old every single year. It’s a thing in Sam’s stupid habit to get him a birthday card since he told him he’d never got one –Sam always have the kids sign it as well, which means he gets the card early enough that Aiden was home at some point, and Callen tried not to think of it too hard. Kamran always draw something, a sun or a heart, and writes “happy birthday Uncle G” and Callen pretends he doesn’t give a damn about the card, but he has a box at home where he put them all for safekeeping.At the end of the day Hetty summons him at her desk and pours them both a glass of her finest whisky. They drink either in companionable silence or in companionable conversation. She doesn’t tell him happy birthday but he gets the point.He likes the years when he doesn’t have to be at work on his birthday better, though. Less feelings about it if he can go through it at home, alone, in peace and quiet. That’s what happen this year. He’s up so early it might be called late, and throws himself into an heavy sport session –he has a lot of things not to think of this year, keeping his mind empty and quiet is not gonna be easy.Anna shows up unexpected around 8 o’clock with a greasy paper bag, kisses him and makes a bee line for his kitchen. He follows, curious, and a bit unfazed. Anna drops the pastries on the kitchen counter, and throws a pack of lollipops alongside it. It has become sort of an habit, her stopping by in the morning to bring him food when they're both off. They usually end up having breakfast together and, if nobody is getting kidnapped or killed this morning, a very long shower.She only ever brings him lollipops when he’s injured though.- What’s up?- I brought pastries.- I can see.- And lollipops.- Still not blind, Anna.- Happy birthday.He doesn’t answer anything for a minute. He’s been so busy trying not to think he forgot he had slightly more people who might want to wish him a happy birthday this year. His silence and blank look are worrying her because she gets it, birthdays are complicated. For most people they are an excuse for celebration and gifts and stuff, but for broken people like them it’s never so clear, each year a reminder that something’s a bit wrong with them. She doesn’t know if Callen is into birthdays. She figured the only way to know was to check, so here she is, checking.- Callen?She startles him out of his thoughts and he’s grateful for that. It hits him that he’s grateful for a her generally speaking –obviously none of this shit will last, but he’s making a shit ton of good memories out of it and he doesn’t have enough of those to be difficult about details, so he uncrosses his arms, strolls across the kitchen and kisses her softly, with an arm around her waist. Her fingertips at the back of his neck almost make him purr like a fucking cat.- Thank you.She just smiles against his lips. They eat the pastries, check their phones to make sure the world isn’t ending within the next hour, then take that shower. The stall’s not big enough for anything fancy but she still manages to fit there on her knees while she blows him under the hot water and it’s as awesome as it is unexpected –then again that woman keeps surprising him so… He’s still pretty much floating by the time they get out so she makes him sit on the edge of the bathtub they never use, while she dries his hair. He stops her halfway to kiss and lick the soft skin of her stomach and that’s how they end up having sex on his bathroom’s floor.(He thinks, “Best birthday ever,” and doesn’t mentally slap himself for it because it’s the fucking truth.) The world is still there and not ending, nobody tried to call them at work, so they cuddle on his couch and are halfway through their fourth re-watch of Chicago (sue them) when someone knocks at the door. They look at each other in confusion for a minute because Anna is already inside. Occupational hazard makes them take out their guns while checking who it is through the windows, before frantically hiding them because Alexandra’s here and she brought Jake and they don’t know shit about kids but they’re pretty sure they don’t go with guns.He waits an extra moment with his hand on the doorknob cause that’s not exactly how he’s been planning to introduce Anna and Alex. To be fair, he was not planning to introduce them at all anytime soon. He takes one more look at Anna, who just shrugs with an amused smile. Then he opens the door and Jake launches himself against his legs.- Happy birthday!He carefully unwraps the boy from around his legs and takes him in his arms so he doesn’t run around. Alexandra is holding a cake box in one hand. She smiles at him.- Happy birthday, Grisha.- We brought cake! Jake shouts like it’s the most exciting news of the century.Which probably is, considering he’s eight years old. Callen tickles him –he won’t shatter his eardrums if he laughs instead of shouting, hopefully.- I can see that, thanks guys.The kid is struggling to escape him so Callen puts him back on the floor and warily watches as he rushes in Anna’s general direction. Alex’s eyes go back and forth between them.- I’m sorry, I should have called, are we interrupting… ?- Nah, it’s fine, we weren’t doing anything productive. Come on, let’s put that in the kitchen. How did you know it was my birthday anyway? I didn’t tell you. Or Jake.- Our father told us.Alex has embraced the whole ‘having a father and a brother’ much better and quicker than he did –he’s still processing while she’s that close to calling Nikita ‘Dad’ when they have dinner together. Thanks God for Jake who’s not calling him Uncle Grisha, he’s not sure he could deal with that just yet. He’s enjoying having someone else than Nikita calling him by his first name, though.Anna’s never been at ease around children, especially young ones. She finds them unpredictable and difficult to read. Callen’s recently found nephew doesn’t seem like a difficult one though, he walks straight to her, extends his hand and introduces himself.- I’m Jake.She crouches to be at eye level and shakes his little hand as gently as she can.- I’m Anna.- Are you Callen’s girlfriend?- I am.- Cool! Do you know coin tricks? Mum’s and Callen’s father, the Russian man, he’s teaching me coin tricks, do you wanna see one?Anna takes a look toward the kitchen but Callen is speaking with Jake’s mother and they don’t look like they’re imminently coming back. She shrugs.- Sure, show me. It turns out that Jake is the sweetest kid except when he’s had sugar. Callen is pretty sure the cake wasn’t e that sweet but then again, he did give the kid a couple lollipops when Alex wasn’t looking –if he’s gonna be someone’s uncle he’s gonna be a cool one. Anna ends up taking Jake for a grocery run because apparently they’re having a barbecue. He lets Alex take care of it because he’s never lit a barbecue in his life. When his phone rings he’s sitting on his front porch, pondering over when exactly he lost control of today’s program. He picks up without checking the ID.- Callen.There’s pause at the other end of the line. A familiar one. Nikita doesn’t call him much, and when he does he always sounds hesitant. Callen can’t help but feel guilty about it.- Hello, Grisha.- Hey.He’d be lying if he pretended he hasn’t wondered about Nikita today. Callen never tells people when it’s his birthday because he doesn’t see the point. His coworkers know because it’s on his file, and Anna asked at some point. Nikita is the only person alive who does not need to ask or check, who knows what his birthday is since he was born, who was actually there that day. It’s not like Callen was expecting him to show up or manifest in any way but… Well.- Today is your birthday.- Yeah, I know. Thanks for telling Alex, by the way, she showed up with Jake and a cake, and I don’t know what happened but now we’re having a barbecue.- Are you having a good day?Callen seriously thinks about it for a moment before answering :- I think so. Surprisingly.- That’s good.They stay quiet for a minute or two after that. Callen can hear his father’s breathing and he tries to figure out how that makes him feel after decades not knowing if he even had a father at all.- I have a something for you, Nikita says eventually. If you want it.He doesn’t say it’s a birthday gift and Callen has never been so glad for an unspoken thing in his life.- Sure.- Who’s that?Alex has gone around the house to look for him. He covers the phone with his hand before mouthing :- Nikita.- Tell him to join us.He has thought about it. Nikita’s never been in his home.Does he want Nikita in his home?On his birthday?He tries to shake himself into sanity. He didn’t think he’d want anyone in his home, especially on his birthday, except maybe Anna, but Alex and Jake are here and he’s not completely unhappy about it…Fuck it.- Hey, you still here?- Yes.- You wanna come over? Alex and Jake are here, we’re having a barbecue.He’s already said that.- Anna’s there too.There is an other pause while Nikita remembers who Anna is.- The daughter of Arkady.- Yeah, well don’t call her that in front of her cause I’m not stopping her from punching you, she’s scary when she’s mad. Come over if you want, okay?He hangs up without waiting for an answer because he doesn’t want to have a conversation about anything, especially not Anna, especially not with Nikita. Alex gives him a dark look that he’s learnt means ‘you need to stop being a little shit to our father’. He ignores it.- Did you manage to turn on the barbecue?- Did you ever turn a barbecue on without coal?- Alex, I’ve never used a barbecue.- Oh my god, I’m so teaching you things tonight. Step 1 : we need coal, so we can’t go to step 2 until Anna’s back. I was just putting it together. When was the last time you used that thing?He doesn’t know how to explain that the last time he saw that thing he was fourteen and a kind man was manning it while he pushed a little girl on a swing. The swing is gone now. He wonders if he should put an other one up, for Jake, if Alex takes the habit to come over unexpected.- Hey, listen…She sits by him on the front step and he clutches his phone in his hand, not hard enough to break it but close. He can go through the evening without openly freaking out but he’s already uncomfortable and that’s not going away without his guests.- I know I should have called, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in like that. Nikita mentioned your birthday to Jake last time they saw each other, and you know how that kid is, he got excited and this morning he kept jumping around, asking if we could go see you. He didn’t let me call you, he wanted it to be a surprised. You’d think I would know better than to listen to my eight years old’s suggestions by now…A gentle laughter escapes him like bubbles, softening his anxiety a little bit. He puts an arm around Alex’s shoulders to comfort her.- Don’t worry about it. We really didn’t have any plan except watch musicals all day. Cake, a coin tricks show and a barbecue work too.- Yeah, sorry about Jake. Did you give him lollipops by the way? she adds with a suspicious look.He takes his arm away and gets up just to be safe.- You said not to.- I did, did you listen?- Uhu. By the time Anna and Jake come back, a Fedex truck almost gave him a heart attack –what now? It was Sam Hanna’s fucking birthday card and he used the excuse to isolate himself and text him. Sam is still on leave, away from LA with Aiden and Kamran, so Callen wasn’t expecting an answer. He got one. This is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to you. Tell Anna to send me pictures. Then, before he had time to type an answer : Never mind, I’m texting her. Callen finds himself smiling, sitting alone in the dark in his bathroom. He wants to ask how Sam is, how the kids are coping. He doesn’t, and puts his phone away. Despite his best efforts Jake did not manage to talk Anna into buying cardboard birthday hats and balloons. Callen couldn’t be more thankful if he was trying. Nikita shows up in time to help cook the meat. He and Alex look like they know their way around a barbecue so Callen makes sure everyone has a beer or something, then escapes to sit in the grass with Anna. The sun has started to come down. Jake is trying to climb in the tree.- I thought about going to help him, Anna explains when he collapses on her right.- What changed your mind?- Nothing, I didn’t want to go help him.He bursts out laughing, not just because he can relate but because it’s been a stressful day, all in all. He forces himself to go from lying on his back to actually sitting and whispers :- Just so we’re clear, I wasn’t planning any family reunion today.- I’m not blaming you.- But… ?- But… Alex and Jake are normal. More or less. They’re going to want to do that every year.- Can we spontaneously go to Hawaii or something next year?She laughs and scratches his hair, and he gets five minutes of quiet before Jake falls from the tree. (Later, while Anna is walking Alex and a sleeping Jake back to their car, Nikita gives him a story book in Russian.- Your sister… She used to read those to you sometimes.He opens it and a black and white picture slips out. He recognizes himself, he must have been three or four years old, not much more. He’s tucked against the side of a small girl who’s reading aloud from the very same book, open on both their laps. He takes an other look at the book. It’s not very large. They must have been very small children, Amy and him.He silently hands the picture back to Nikita. Nikita makes no move to take it.- Happy birthday, Grisha.- Thank you.He feels like he should say something else but he can’t figure out what, so he just watches Nikita climb in his car and leave.He smiles a little bit, and tells Anna it was both the most normal and the strangest birthday he’s ever had. She smiles back, like someone who understands because she can relate. He kisses her for that.) ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- They don’t have many days off, and when they do they hardly ever get them at the same time –the perks of working for two different agencies. Somehow it works for them. Callen’s never been good at taking on new habits. If they had a lot of free time, weekends off and shit like that, regular time together would be expected. Well he doesn’t know if Anna would expect it but… At any rates they would have to think about it, maybe even talk it out, and he hates that kind of conversation, so he’s kinda happy with the fact that their professional situation allows them to bypass the question of how much time they’re supposed to spend together entirely. Any actual date is a funny accident, never planned more than a few days in advance, improvised more often than not. They both like road trips so when they get more than a whole day for themselves they usually get out of Los Angeles. They keep mentioning Disney World but they would need a few days at the very least if they want to drive there and since terrorists do not take holidays, that’s probably not happening before the next time their respective bosses force them to take days off.They live as a couple inside the small pockets of common peace that happen like miracles every once in a while. She comes home very late on Saturday night, so late that she just crawls on his mattress with him and immediately falls asleep, and when they wake up it’s Sunday, their phones are blissfully silent, and the world is being washed by Californian rain. They eat what little food Callen keeps in his kitchen, if it’s not freezing outside they open the back door and drink coffee with their bare feet in the wet grass of his garden.(“I swear I will take care of it, but if you are not trying to grow a rain forest in your backyard, please, buy a lawnmower.”)They go running under the rain because they were born stubborn assholes instead of quitters. They shower together, she borrows sweatpants from him and wears the hoodie he lets her keep cause apparently that’s a thing he’s into now, his girlfriend wearing his clothes. Some days they watch more musicals, or Disney movies. They bitch about the lameness of Netflix program until they discover Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt and pretty much adopt Titus Andromedon.Some days they don’t even turn the laptops on. Mugs of cold coffees and out of batteries phones lay forgotten on the kitchen island. It’s getting cold with the open windows and backdoor, but they can’t be bothered to get up and close them. They’ve been in the backyard too long so their clothes and hair are wet but the towels are upstairs in the bathroom and it’s too late to go fetch them once they’ve collapsed on his mattress, so they just press against each other. They speak in Russian or they don’t speak at all, content to just lie there and kiss. Their lips taste like rain and coffee, hands wandering under wet clothes, seeking warm skin, tracings patterns and now familiar scars. Callen has more, but he’s been alive longer. She laughs against his mouth when he says so. He goes and tastes the ever so soft skin of her shoulders like an obsession he can’t get rid off. Doesn’t want to get rid off. He lets waves of panic wash over him and go away. She kisses his neck and hair when he tenses up against her.They don’t even make love, don’t even fool around, they just kiss and touch and hold while listening to the rain, because that’s something that happens in there, in their pockets of peace in between the wars. Moments that are both too much and not enough, left them wanting more and knowing they wouldn’t be able to handle more, not just yet.(They go through rainy days pretty much unaffected by the weather up until they don’t and have to call in sick on Monday because they both woke up with the flu.)
11330580	One Night at the Wolf I	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Jennie [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2001-12-31T00:00:00", "words": "4,176", "Additional Tags": "Crossover", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement, TER/MA", "Fandoms": "Once a Thief (TV), Highlander - All Media Types, The Commish (TV), The X-Files, Moloney (TV)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	One Night at the Wolf by JennieOne Night at the Wolf by Jennie This one is a WIP PAIRING: Well... eventually we'll have Mulder/Vic, Skinner/Cory and Krycek/Methos UPDATED: 2nd November 2000 Feedback: to WEB SITE: http://fullhouseslash.slashcity.net/hosted/Jennie.htm#other SPOILER WARNING: Not a one RATING: Oh, PG for language, maybe. Eventually, smut will occur. COMMENTS: Any and all comments gratefully received - as long as they're constructive. DISCLAIMER: These boys belong to someone else. No copyright infringement intended. SUMMARY: A small gathering in a bar NOTES: You see, I was struggling with this dreadful 3-way sex scene for another story and started this in an effort to avoid said scene. It's pure silliness! Not beta'd. Consider yourself warned.One Night at the Wolf by JennieOkay, I admit it - it's a sick hobby. But, it's the only one I have. You see, I like to follow Mulder. He's just so damned amusing. You never know what he'll get into next.This time though ... well, even I was shocked. Oh shut up, you. I was shocked. I suspected we might be in for a fun evening when he appeared dressed in tight black jeans and a leather jacket, looking hotter than hell. When he walked into the Wolf, which just happens to be a gay bar in downtown DC, I smiled in triumph. Watching Mulder on the prowl is more fun than I can even begin to describe.I gave him a couple of minutes to get away from the door and followed him in. He was easy to spot, standing by the bar, scanning the crowd. Then, he seemed to recognize someone and smiled widely. I followed his line of sight and just about dropped my teeth.It was me. Well, it was a man who bore an uncomfortable resemblance to me. Except for the fact that he had two arms and was maybe a year or two younger, he could easily have been my twin.Damn. I scowled as I watched the stranger rush over to meet Mulder with an embrace and a very hot kiss."Pretty, aren't they?" A husky voice whispered in my ear.I turned quickly, automatically reaching for my gun and then froze in shock. My jaw dropped. Literally. The whisperer was another copy of me.What the fuck?For a moment I thought I'd said that aloud. But then I heard it again."What the fuck?"The whisperer and I turned to see a very confused young man staring at us in stunned amazement."Vic?" He asked, looking back and forth between us.The whisperer smiled and shook his head. "Sorry, kid. I'm Cory."The kid turned his big brown eyes on me and frowned. "You're not Vic.""Nope. I'm Alex.""Oh." He looked adorable, actually. A slight frown folded his forehead and his full lips pouted enticingly. "Are you his brothers, maybe?"We both shook our heads and pointed at the man with Mulder. "Is that your Vic?" Cory asked.Brown eyes widened as he saw Mulder's companion. "Jesus," he moaned. "I can't believe this. Three of you... I must be dreaming. Or hallucinating.""Raines!" An angry voice interrupted our little group.The whisperer gulped and looked at me in mute appeal. I grinned and moved to stand at his side. A large hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. 'Cory' turned with me and we couldn't help but smile at the reaction we garnered from the newcomer."Shit!" A large and rather attractive man stood before us, his face wearing what was quickly becoming the typical shocked expression our appearance seemed to bring about. I raised my eyebrows at him and smiled widely. He glared at me in accusation. "Raines, what the hell-""Get your hand off of me," I growled in warning. Hell, the guy was okay to look at, a little too pretty for my taste maybe - though his long hair was awfully attractive. But, he had his hand on my left shoulder. I don't care how pretty he was - I did not - still don't - like anyone to touch me there.He slowly released me and turned toward the whisperer. "Raines?" He asked tentatively."Mac?"Jesus, now what? We all turned to see just who was joining our happy little group this time."Yeah?" Responded both the pretty one with the ponytail and the young one with brown eyes.Naturally enough, the newcomer was Mulder's friend ... and, right behind him... You guessed it, Mulder."Krycek!" Mulder started for Cory then saw me and stopped in confusion. He glanced down at our hands. Luckily, both of us were wearing gloves. Mulder growled in frustrated anger and glared at both of us."Take it easy, Fox."//Fox?//Well, shit. It seemed that Mulder and his friend were rather closer than I had imagined. I couldn't remember ever hearing anyone call him Fox."But," Mulder protested, "one of these guys is Krycek, Vic."Ah ha ... the mysterious Vic revealed."Vic," said brown eyes, "what's going on here. Who are these guys?"Vic shrugged. "I dunno, Mac." He turned to Mulder. "Fox, this is my partner, Mac Ramsey. Mac, this is Fox Mulder.""Fox?" Repeated Mac with a smirk.I was beginning to like this kid.Mr. Ponytail stepped forward. "I'm Duncan MacLeod," he said, offering his hand to first Mulder then Vic then Mac.Eventually, everyone had been introduced except Cory and me. We maintained our watchful silence, still standing close together."Mac!"We all groaned as yet another man joined us. MacLeod and Ramsey turned together to greet the newcomer. "Yeah?" They asked.Oh my. Well, things were looking up! This one was gorgeous. Tall, slim, black hair, dark eyes, mid-thirties maybe. I even liked his nose - it was a little on the large side but regal, you know? Hmmm. I stood a little straighter, watching him as MacLeod introduced him as Adam Pierson to the group. He nodded pleasantly at everyone then turned to look at Cory and me."And these two gentlemen?" He asked politely.MacLeod and Mulder snorted. Bastards."Well, we think one's Raines," MacLeod said doubtfully. "The other-""Is Krycek," Mulder spat out."Ah," Adam grinned at us. "And they're not telling, right?"I eyed him closely and got the distinct impression that he knew exactly which of us was which. He winked at me and turned to MacLeod. "So, what? You're just going to call them pal or buddy or something generic?""There's an easy way to identify Krycek," Mulder said triumphantly."Oh?" Everyone turned to look at us. "How?""His left arm is fake."Cory shifted a bit closer on my right side and Adam moved to my left. Mulder moved forward and all three of us backed up a step."Vic?" Asked Mac-with-the-pouty-lips. "What the hell is going on?"Vic shrugged. "Not a clue, Mac."MacLeod looked at Adam. "Me... Um, Adam, can you tell which one is Raines?"Oh ho. So, tall, dark and slim had a secret too. I raised my brows at him and he grinned. "Sorry, Mac.""But-" MacLeod started to protest. "Surely you can... " He shrugged, "You know.""Surely I can what, Duncan?" Adam frowned at him repressively.MacLeod mumbled something under his breath and subsided."Are you two together?" I murmured into Adam's ear.He laughed. Loudly. "Not in a million years."Ponytail glared. "What?""Nothing, Mac," Adam answered. "Nothing that concerns you, anyway."Mulder took another step forward and Adam and Vic moved too. Adam ended up between Mulder and me and Cory while Vic grabbed Mulder's arm."Not now," Vic said urgently. "Not here.""Fine," Mulder said. "Let's go.""What the fuck is this?" An angry voice cut in.Another collective groan from the group.Mulder stared at the newcomer in horror. "Sir?" He squeaked. "What are you doing here?"I had to bite down painfully hard on my lip to control the laughter that threatened to escape me. Skinner! It was Skinner. I lowered my eyes and fought to keep my breathing even. Adam must have noticed my sudden tension, because he shifted his weight back until his back was pressed up against me.Oh yeah.After yet another round of introductions, Skinner turned his attention to Cory and me. "So," he looked us over. "One is Krycek, you think." He met my eyes and I could see that he knew exactly who I was.Uh oh. This could scotch the deal rather quickly."Yes, I'm sure of it." Good old Mulder. I wanted to smack that self-satisfied grin right off of his face."Hmmm," Skinner made a motion to Adam and I frowned. "Well, Agent Mulder, how do you propose we identify the real Krycek?""His arm, sir.""Ah." Skinner nodded gravely. "I see. And just exactly how do you propose to check that, Mulder?"Mulder cleared his throat, looking at Cory and Adam appraisingly. "Well, sir. If you grab one and Vic grabs the other, I'll check their arms.""I don't think so," Vic protested.Smart man, that Vic."I'll help," MacLeod offered with a wolfish grin."Fucking Scottish boyscout," Adam sneered. "Even you might be out of your depth here, MacLeod."Skinner grinned at Adam. And winked at him. My mouth almost dropped open, let me tell you. "Mulder, I don't really care if one of them is Krycek, but if you insist on investigating, be my guest.""But he-" Mulder started to protest."Mr. Mulder ... or, should I call you Fox?" Adam said with grave innocence.Mulder flinched.I grinned and moved against Adam's back. //Do it!// I urged him silently.One of his hands moved slowly behind him and long fingers wrapped themselves around my belt.Oh yeah. I grinned happily and waited. One quick look in Skinner's direction revealed that he too was expecting great things from Adam."So, anyway, Fox, what is the problem with this Krycek person? I mean, if you make a habit of threatening to assault strangers in order to identify him, he must be a blackguard of the highest order."Now, you might think this a rather ponderous speech, and under ordinary circumstances I'd probably agree with you - But Adam pulled it off with ease. That sharp upper crust British accent was what made it possible, I think. 'Course, the hand at my belt distracted me a bit, so I might not be the best one to give an impartial impression of his speech patterns."I wasn't going to assault anyone," Mulder sounded aggrieved at the accusation. "I just want to touch their left arms.""Did you know that in the ancient cultures of North America, such a touch would have been considered an invitation to death?" Adam asked with perfect seriousness. "The Anasazi in particular had an absolute horror of being touched on the left side by a stranger.""What?" Mulder's eyebrows migrated upwards. "No one knows enough about the Anasazi to make a call like that.""Oh?" Adam was oh so disdainful of Mulder's comment. "An expert on ancient southwestern tribal cultures, eh, Fox?""No," Mulder snapped, "I'm not. But any idiot knows-""Any idiot, indeed." Apparently considering the topic closed, Adam moved on. "Considering the current ah... correctness of the political climate in this country, I should think that even an FBI agent would think twice before laying hands on protesting strangers in gay bars with their bosses looking on.""How did you know I was a -""You'd be quite surprised at what I know, Fox."Skinner had turned so that Mulder couldn't see his face. So, I had the pleasure of watching the look of unholy glee on Skinner's face as he listened to Adam and Mulder go at it."Don't call me that!""Fox? Isn't that your name, then? I could have sworn I heard that Fox was your name. Dear me, do let me offer my sincerest apologies for making such a mistake." Adam's voice oozed insincerity.Skinner grinned wickedly. "No, Adam, Fox is his name. He just doesn't care much for it.""He doesn't?" Adam shook his head. "Oh dear, Fox. But, it's such an interesting name. Many myths surround the fox, did you know that? Unfortunately, the fox still carries a reputation Aesop depicted over 2600 years ago; clever, cunning, but always the villain. And then, there are the legends of the Werefox. Whereas the werewolf is known throughout the world, the werefox is basically and Eastern belief. However, unlike the common were-tale, which tells of some cursed person of witch turning into a creature, a werefox is exactly the opposite: the fox turns in a human! I find that quite fascinating, don't you?"Mulder's eyes had widened in horror as Adam expounded on the mythos of the fox. I was having an increasingly difficult time controlling my amusement at seeing Adam turn Mulder's own game on him so effectively. From all appearances, Skinner was having the same problem. His eyes were positively twinkling with suppressed hilarity. "Of course," Adam continued, "The most popular human shape is the female variety: the fox will take the form of a beautiful woman to entice a human male. It is said that no human female is as seductive as the werefox. It's believed that foxes live to be eight hundred years old. Once they his five hundred they can begin taking the human form. Fifty to one thousand years are also popular ages for the fox to begin transformation."By this time, Skinner was studying the floor with every appearance of fascination."And," Adam drew a deep breath, apparently intending to continue in the same vein at some length."Stop!" MacLeod, Mulder and Mac-with-the-pouty-lips all exclaimed rather desperately.Skinner coughed to hide the laughter that he apparently could no longer hold back, and Cory was breathing with studied care. I'm not sure, but I suspect he was biting the inside of his cheek just as I was in an attempt to control his amusement. Vic had turned his head away, to hide his own smile, I guessed.Young and pretty Mac was hiding behind Mac-with-the-ponytail. He peered over the larger man's shoulder when Adam subsided. Such an expression of relief came over his face that I just couldn't hold back my own smile. He really was a cute young thing."That's him," Mulder announced, pointing at Cory."Oh?" Skinner looked at Cory dubiously. "How can you tell?""Because he," the finger moved to point at me, "is smiling. Krycek never smiles."Cory immediately directed a sunny smile at Mulder.Mulder growled.I laughed. Huge mistake. Once I started, I couldn't stop. I finally hid my face in Adam's shoulder in a vain attempt to control myself. I might even have been successful, if only Skinner hadn't chosen that moment to lose it.Skinner has a great laugh, by the way. Infectious even. Pretty soon, everyone - except Mulder, of course - was chuckling.When I dared look up again, Mulder was pouting. That set me off again and I leaned against Adam's back, laughing helplessly. Even Vic, I saw, had a grin lurking at the corners of his mouth.Mulder turned and started away in a high dudgeon. He stopped and turned back to glare at everyone. "Krycek," he said warningly, "I will get you one of these days. You can't stay permanently attached to your twin forever, you know." With that, he marched away, dragging the still smiling Vic along with him.Skinner snorted. "Well, old man," he said to Adam. "I see you haven't lost your touch."Adam shrugged."I suppose you just had to do that, didn't you, Adam?" MacLeod asked."I didn't like him," Adam said simply. He looked around. "I need a drink.""Come on," Skinner offered, "I owe you one. That was priceless. I seldom see him outdone in the smartass department."Young Mac stepped away from MacLeod. "Um, I'm gonna head back to my hotel room," he said. "Do you suppose the bartender would be willing to call me a cab?"MacLeod turned to look at him. "I'm heading out of here myself. I'll drop you off, if you'd like."Brown eyes smiled. "That'd be great, man. Thanks.""Well, guys," MacLeod looked at the group. "I'd say it's been nice meeting everyone, but that wouldn't exactly be the truth. Raines - whichever of you is Raines - I'll be looking for you."Cory and I exchanged an amused look. "So long, Mac," we said in concert.Ponytail grimaced and turned to leave, followed closely by brown eyes. He paused and turned to look at Adam. "I'll uh... see you later."Adam waved him away negligently. "Yeah, Mac ... later."I stepped away from Adam. "I guess I'd better make tracks before Mulder rethinks the situation and comes back with a gun in hand."Skinner shrugged. "Hell, Krycek. He'll be busy pouting for hours yet."Adam reached out and grabbed my belt again. "Come on, man. Join us for a drink." He looked at Cory. "You too, Raines."I paused, looked at the hand at my waist, and nodded. "Okay," I agreed. "But, Skinner's buying."We found a table and Skinner walked over to the bar with our drink order. That's all for now, gang. I'll write more later... Title: Wolf 2: What Krycek is THIS? Author/pseudonym: Jennie Fandom: X Files/Highlander/Once a Thief/The Commish/Moloney Pairings: Methos/Alex Krycek, Ricky Caruso/Anson Green, Mac Ramsey/Cory Raines, Skinner/Doggett Rating: PG for language Status: complete Archive: Yeah, sure E-mail address for feedback: <> Series/Sequel: Sequel to One Night at the Wolf. Dammit - I s'pose there will be more... Other websites: <http://fullhouseslash.slashcity.net/hosted/Jennie.htm#other> and <http://fullhouseslash.slashcity.net/hosted/Jennie.htm#other> Disclaimers: None of these boys are mine - no money made here - no copyright infringement intended. Notes: I just HAD to do this - and, FYI, this is not only holiday fic, it falls into the Wolf AND First Date universes. If you haven't read Wolf 1, you'll be very confused! Summary: Another small (well, maybe not so small) gathering at the Wolf - a very short, very silly little snippet.Wolf 2 What Krycek Is THIS? by JennieHow the hell did he manage to talk me into this? I DON'T do gay bars. But, he'd been so eager - and so determined that I should attend whatever it is he has planned for tonight...I just couldn't let him down.He returns to the table - a large table - that he appropriated as soon as we arrived at the Wolf - bearing drinks for each of us. Settles next to me and smiles that VERY irritating smile he's been sporting on and off ever since I agreed to accompany him tonight. Fucker won't even give me a clue as to what this is all about - what devious plan he has up his sleeve.We've only been together for a short time now - and I've realized that he has a wickedly evil sense of humor. Not to mention an amazingly persuasive nature. The man has me wrapped around his little finger and is all too aware of that fact.Every time the door opens, he looks at the newcomer. WHO are we expecting?"Walt, couldn't you at least give me a hint as to who'll be joining us?""Nope," he says firmly. And there's that smirk again.Bastard.Well, nothing to do but wait. I sip my beer, studying the growing crowd. Never having been in a gay bar before, I'm damned fascinated. I see everything from butch leather daddies to screaming queens to guys that look as far from gay as I'd ever imagined.Interesting.Walter straightens beside me, smiling towards the door. Seems our party is starting to arrive. I follow his eyes and... FUCK - it's Krycek.Isn't he dead? I could swear I saw him laying on a cold garage floor - dead as a doornail. The not-dead Krycek spots us and waves. He even smiles, as does the man accompanying him.Once they've gotten drinks from the bar, they head over to join us."John," Skinner says, "you know Alex, and this is... Adam Pierson. Adam, this is John Doggett."I nod reservedly, mind still spinning at the appearance of Krycek. I'm not even close to accepting his presence when two more men join us.SHIT! Another Krycek. I blink and shake my head. Look again. Yep - they look so much alike that they MUST be twins."Gentlemen, this is John Doggett, John, meet Cory Raines and Mac Ramsey." Cory sits down and smirks at my stunned expression. Mac looks at me with sympathy."Kinda hard to take, isn't it?" Mac offers me an understanding smile. "I was in shock the first time I saw all of them."My eyes widen in horror. "ALL of them? You mean there are MORE?"Everyone but Mac laughs at me."Just you wait," says Adam.I groan.Skinner pats my shoulder in an irritatingly condescending manner. I wonder if I could get away with killing him...As murderous thoughts run through my mind, two more join us - both of them Krycek lookalikes.JESUS!More introductions. Ricky Caruso and Anson Green.What the hell? Did their mother deliver a fucking LITTER of them?The table is full - all seats taken - so I assume that our party is now complete. God, I certainly hope so - don't think I could take yet another Krycek copy. In numb silence, I listen as they play catch-up. Apparently they haven't seen each other for a while.Which is a good thing, I think. They must all live in various locales - not getting into D.C. very often. Yes, a VERY good thing - don't think I could deal with seeing this group too often.Skinner orders a couple of bottles of champagne when a waiter wanders by and offers to take orders. He's back pretty quickly, and pours each of us a glass.Standing, Skinner raises his glass. "A toast, I think."Everyone nods in agreement and watches him expectantly."To friends. To resurrections. To our extreme luck in finding partners. And, last, but not least, to the holiday season. May we all have a Very Merry Christmas!"A chorus of 'hear, hear's' follow, then we all take a sip of our drinks.Walt leans over and whispers in my ear, "You holding up okay?""Yeah, sure, fine... just don't expect me to be able to walk anytime soon. I'm still kinda in shock, here."He chuckles.Have I mentioned what a smart-assed SOB he is?I'm slowly relaxing, just taking in the conversation around me, when Krycek stiffens in his chair. "Oh fuck," he says, staring at the door and the two men who've just entered.Mulder. And ANOTHER Krycek.Jesus Fucking Christ! How the hell many of them are there, anyway?It takes practically no time for Mulder's sharp eye to spot us. His jaw clenches, his lips tighten and he makes for our table, shoving through the crowd with no care for who he pushes out of his way. His Krycek copy follows more slowly, offering apologies along the way."FOX!" Adam exclaims cheerfully. "Damn, it's good to see you - been too long, don't you think?"Mulder grinds his teeth, jaw visibly clenching."What the HELL is going on?" Mulder demands of Skinner.Walt slouches down in his chair and smiles affably. "Just a small gathering - in honor of the upcoming holiday."Mulder's partner finally reaches our side and lays a hand on Mulder's shoulder. "Calm down, Fox. You don't know...""Oh yes I do. One of them is Krycek - I KNOW it.""But, you said he was dead," the man protests quietly. "You told me Skinner shot him - in front of your eyes."Adam snickers. "C'mon, Vic," he says, "you know FOX better than any of us. Are you really surprised that he'd come up with something like this?"Mulder growls.Skinner laughs."Which one of you?" Mulder asks in a dangerously low tone. "Which of you is the RatBastard?"In unison, all of the clones stand up and smile brilliantly in Mulder's direction. "I am," they chorus.By this time, Mac is practically falling out of his chair with laughter. Gotta admit I'm finding this rather amusing myself. Nice to see Mulder -that pompous, overly impressed with himself bastard - at a loss for words."Hey," Adam says generously, "grab a couple of chairs and join us.""I... you... FUCK!" Mulder sputters. With a look of disgust, he grabs Vic's arm and turns to leave. "I WILL get you some day, Krycek," he spits.Then, dragging Vic along, he storms out of the bar.After we stop laughing, Walt passes the second bottle of champagne around the table."To Mulder," he says heartily, raising his glass."To Mulder!" Everyone agrees, each with a smile.I lean closer and whisper to Walt, "You knew he'd show up, didn't you?"His only answer is a VERY evil smile.*****And there you go. Archived: December 26, 2001
11325600	In Which Selina Kyle is	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Poison Ivy, Selina Kyle, Harleen Quinzel", "Fandom": "Batman - All Media Types", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by crazyfangirl221b", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-05-27T00:00:00", "words": "1,072", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "A Universe Made of Stars", "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 }	There are very few places an internationally wanted criminal can crash on a moments notice. That number goes down significantly when said criminal occasionally helps out her maybe-boyfriend in his heroic hobby. When she's just acquired a gorgeous statue of Bastet from the Gotham Museum of Antiquity, the number goes to three. 1. Gotham International Airport, on her way outta dodge. Currently closed due to Killer Frost's fallout with Mr. Freeze. 2. Gotham City Central station. Ditto. Apparently nobody planned for a blizzard in July. 3.Â Gotham City Park and Botanical Garden, most likely the closest green house to the swing sets. Current hideout of Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. Despite the snow storm the temperature hovered at about 50F, so the walk across town wasn't too bad. Just long. And boring. Catwoman reached the park after about two hours of walking and another hour and a half of making sure she wasn't followed. She approached the right area of the park just as the sun was rising, bathing the world in radiant, golden light. She pinched the bridge of her nose and hoped she could find a bed in the shade. As soon as Selina spotted the secluded greenhouse she knew it was the right one. Half a dozen partially melted snowmen stained with what she hoped was tomato juice and great, leafy plant bent unnaturally to keep them in the shade. Trying not to step in any of the red snow, she made her way to the door. As she stepped onto the concrete stoop the door opened to reveal Poison Ivy, wearing an "I Survived Gotham" t-shirt. "You on our side or his today?" she asked in the exhausted tone of a woman who had been up all night making snow zombies. "I'm on the side of whoever gives me a place to sleep and a jug of coffee." Selina replied almost the same tone. Ivy stepped aside with a sigh. "I'll grow you a bed of moss, but you'll have to fight Harley for the coffee." Selina snorted, and entered their kitchen. She stared at the bushes holding plates and mugs. "I'll settle for a snack." "Those jars are deadly nightshade jelly," Ivy gestured to a row of jars the counter "Everything else in the kitchen is safe. Don't eat anything in the lab, though." Selina looked at a row of home canning jars with skull and crossbones labels. Then she noticed two extension cords in different outlets, spliced together and plugged into the stove. "Should I ask?" "Whatever your question is, the answer is probably Harley," Ivy replied with a shrug walking into the atrium. She waved her arm at a spot across the room and almost three feet of moss grew at her command. Another twiddle of her fingers and woody vines wove themselves into walls. "See ya at noon!" Selina waved halfheartedly as she closed the still-growing door. Then she dropped her sack on a handy shelf and flopped onto the best bed she'd ever known. She fell asleep almost instantly and slept deeply through the morning. She woke to the sound of breaking glass and tumbled out of bed with a thud. Selina wandered groggily into the atrium and found Harley laughing to some kind of plane crash documentary and Ivy swearing the kitchen floor. "Should I get a mop or body armor?" Selena said sarcastically as she grabbed a mug from the least thorny-looking bush. "We don't got mops!" Harley shouted from the couch. Selina looked back at Ivy to find small vines cleaning up the mess for her, "But can they cook?" "See, Harley," Ivy said ignoring the question and picking up a knife from the counter. "Nobody respects me." "You mean nobody fears you." Selina sat down on the recliner across from Harley. "I have powers beyond belief!" Ivy went on, gesturing with a knife the size of her forearm. "I am the mast of Kingdom Plantae! I am an abomination to mankind." "You're cutting the crusts off of your girlfriend's sandwich." Selina pointed out. "Crust is an abomination!" Harley shouted. Ivy just sighed and brought over the plates. "I just miss the days people fled at the sight of me." "You know what you need?" Selina asked, "A nice little bit of mayhem." Harley leaned forward eagerly. "Got any ideas?" "I'm just saying," Selina shrugged with a false air of innocence. "Batman just took down two metas, he's got to be pretty tired by now." "And the police all out Â are looking for whoever robbed wherever it is you robbed last night?" Ivy finished with a grin. "It'd be a real shame if someone messed with Bruce Wayne's big gala this evening." Selina looked over at Harley and saw she was grinning too. "And I do need a nice distraction to get out of town safely." "Please, Red!" Harley leaned forward so far she fell off the couch. "Well, if it's a favor for a friend," Ivy pretended to consider it. "Why not?" Harley squealed with excitement. "What time does the party start?" "About seven," Selina replied, "So you two should get there about eight to catch any late arrivals." Harley stood up. "I'll polish my explosives!" "Lunch first," Ivy handed her a plate and Harley sat down to eat. "Any for me?" Selina asked. Ivy snorted. "You're not banned from the kitchen." Selina just raised an eyebrow. "She set the last hideout on fire making cereal!" Ivy said shaking her head. "Everything is better with birthday candles!" Harley insisted. "I see," Selina said heading to the kitchen. Then she noticed the stove again. "Is that a fire hazard?" "Probably!" Harley called cheerfully. "It's perfectly safe," Ivy countered. "I covered all of the exposed wires." Selina continued staring at the stove, then she came to a very logical conclusion: a graduate degree just might actively discourage a person's sense of self-preservation. It certainly would explain most of the people she hung out with. Bruce probably had one too. Speaking of Bruce... Selina pulled her burner phone out of her pocket and turned it on to shoot off a quick text. "H&I r bored pls invite to party" The reply came only moments later. "Selina, no." She grinned and typed, "SELINA YES!!!" Like she said, Batman's got to be pretty tired by now and he really should get some sleep, someone ought to let him know he can.
11382996	A Bridge to a Greater	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Peggy Carter, Diana Prince, Angie Martinelli", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by sgamadison", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "6,723", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Coffee and Pie", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Agent Carter - Fandom, Wonder Woman (2017)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Diana stepped through the library doors into the fading light and paused at the top of the stairs, considering her options.It was a lovely evening. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Yes, there was still the exhaust fumes from the motor vehicles and the sulfurous odors belched out of the factories across the river, but if she concentrated, she could pick out the dank scent of the docks, as well as wet earth and green grass. Demeter’s power might be diminished among the mortar and brick, but it was still there if Diana paid attention. The land called to her, as did the hint of autumn in the air. The nights had been cooler lately, enough to warrant a coat, and a stiff breeze came off the water with the setting of the sun. She welcomed the change in seasons. With summer’s end, the city air was no longer stifling. It also meant she could more easily tuck her shield beneath her coat, and no one was the wiser.Not that she needed to carry the shield. Sometimes she did so simply because it reminded her of who she was and where she’d come from.The smoggy air had one benefit: it made for breathtaking sunsets. This evening's was spectacular. That decided her. Though she was well-supplied with reading material to keep her occupied for the next week or so, she missed the physical activity of training. She also missed riding across open fields at a gallop, the wind causing her eyes to tear as she leaned down low across her mount’s neck and called out encouragement as his hooves pounded in ground-eating strides. One of the advantages of relocating to New York City after the war was the presence of Central Park and the ability to rent a horse on a regular basis for an hour or two. It paled in comparison to her rides across Themyscria. Here she was expected to ride sedately, as befitting a lady. No thundering over fields of waving grass, a sword in her hand, ready to strike. Nor were there serene mornings in brilliant sunshine, practicing katas before breakfast. No heart-pounding afternoons in the heat of the day, blocking punches and exchanging blows with her companions.She could really use a sparring partner. She was getting soft.Very well. She would walk home this evening. A tiny part of her hoped someone would stupidly challenge her, would assume a woman wearing spectacles and carrying a bag of books might be an easy target for harassment—or worse. She punched down that wishful thinking, knowing that it rose in part out of boredom. But only in part. That path, the one of superior self-righteousness, took her perilously close to the edge of anger. She could feel it still simmering there, just below the surface, like a font of lava loosely covered by a thin, black crust. Even after all this time, which was disconcerting.Since the war ended, she’d found herself at loose ends, that’s all.Her boots clicked authoritatively as she strode along the sidewalk. She liked the clothing of this era better than the previous time she’d faced global war. Though there was still a ridiculous impediment to serious fighting, the styles were flattering to the figure and far less likely to compromise breathing. The remembrance of that first shopping trip in London, when Steve and Etta had helped her blend in, swept over her suddenly. For once, the memory was untainted with sorrow. She only felt a sense of wry amusement, knowing what she did now and how very gauche and naïve she must have seemed to Etta back then.It was only when she recalled exactly why she’d relocated in New York that the grief punched her in the gut. For a while after Steve’s death, she’d kept in touch with the old team. She’d even collaborated with them for other missions, to help tie up ‘loose ends’. She’d needed their guidance, their humanity. And if she was completely honest with herself, their connection to Steve. She’d become friends with Etta, both of them mourning Steve’s loss in their own way, though they had very little in common. Etta’s world views had been edifying, however, and had gone a long way in helping Diana decide the best course of action in the following years.There may have been a time when the gods walked the Earth among the mortals, but no longer. Nor did the world of Man appreciate the existence of demi-gods. Or demi-goddesses, as the case may be. Such beings and their abilities had been relegated to mythology. Diana found herself more isolated than she could have ever imagined: not biddable enough to fit in a world where women were still viewed as scarcely more than property, and too independent to make friends easily with either sex. Any scholar as well-read on the classics as Diana often refused discourse because she was a woman—and of course, she could wipe the floors with any of them in a physical match.And while she enjoyed many of the conversations with the women she met, too often these women allowed themselves to be subjugated by the men in their lives or the societal norms. It often struck her as odd that growing up in Themyscria, protected from the rest of the world in such an insular existence, had made her more enlightened, not less.It made her appreciate her upbringing all the more.When the ‘War to End All Wars’ had ceased, it had been hard to maintain the relationships with Steve’s team. One by one, the others drifted away. Chief disappeared first, gone without a forwarding address. Sameer took a job in the States, presumably opening a restaurant, though Diana was never entirely sure if that was the real story or an elaborate cover. Charlie clung the longest, only to lose his way deeper and deeper into the bottle. The longer she’d stayed in Steve’s world, the less Diana felt like she could go back to the island. And then another war had broken out, and leaving was no longer an option.Not to mention, it was hard to return to a place that was hidden in space and time. Even for a demi-goddess.An envious comment from Etta, who’d remarked how Diana never seemed to age, precipitated the move to New York after the end of WW2. It seemed to make sense. Only Steve’s team had any inkling of her true nature, and even then, they thought of her as some sort of charmed, inexplicably well-trained fighter rather than a demi-goddess. Belatedly, she’d learned caution about revealing her origins. Either that, or the strictures of the society in which she lived were rubbing off on her.She snorted at that thought. Perhaps not. But it wasn’t just Etta who would notice her perpetual youth if she stayed in one place too long. So would everyone around her. If she wanted to keep her real nature a secret, it meant relocating every so often. Outside of Themyscria, all of Diana’s friendships would necessarily be short-lived, more so if she kept her immortality a secret, moving on when it became obvious, as with Etta, that she wasn’t aging. Even if she chose to share her secret, the thought of watching friends grow older and die while she remained the same was nearly unbearable. It would also take the right sort of person who could accept Diana’s gifts without resentment. Without knowing the full truth, there was envy in Etta’s voice when she reflected on Diana’s unchanging nature.It would have been better if Diana had returned to the island, but she couldn’t. Especially not after all she had experienced helping Steve end his war. Her mother had been right about many things. Her inability to go home was one of them.Nor would it have been the same without Antiope. She could almost forget that her aunt was also dead. Easier to banish that memory than it was with Steve because every day she still walked in his world. Somehow it was easier to imagine everyone alive and well in Themyscria without her.That there had been another world conflict after the one she thought of as ‘Steve’s War’ had almost broken her. She had destroyed Ares. Surely that should have been the end of it, yes? What good was she if she couldn’t end the evil that was war?But no. Man didn’t seem to need Ares to instigate his aggressions now. Perhaps he never did. Maybe all along, all Ares had ever done was take advantage of a weak, degenerate species. Certainly the history of mankind indicated he was more than capable of creating his own nightmarish situations, his own evil. His own personal hell.Every time she nearly lost herself in the horror that man could inflict upon his fellows, she remembered Steve’s shining example. He’d been no saint. Far from perfect. But somehow that made his ability to rise above his inherent nature all the more heroic. Her time among the mortals had made her realize just how fragile they were. Their lives were so brief compared to hers. She had the wisdom of centuries of civilizations behind her. The average man had what—sixty, seventy good years? No wonder they were so selfish and protective of their time on Earth. Which made Steve’s sacrifice all the more breathtaking. Even though she replayed the sequence of events leading to Steve’s death a thousand times in her mind, she knew it couldn’t have ended any other way. His love—and his death—had ultimately kept her from being seduced by the anger that Ares had planned to consume her. If only it had been a battle fought and won the single time.No one told her that she would have to fight that anger every day the rest of her life.She wouldn’t think of that now. She shook off the dark thoughts with long practice. Around her, the rosy glow of the fading sun painted the sides of the tall buildings, reflecting back the warm light from thousands of glass windows. She could still admire a sunset, and savor the planned evening ahead.Which of the books she’d chosen would she read tonight? For edification, there was Darwin’s The Origin of the Species. Peal S. Buck’s Pavilion of Women had been chosen because the title reminded her of home. For sheer entertainment, there was Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, and Josephine Tey’s Miss Pym Disposes. She looked forward to curling up on the couch in her little apartment and reading to her heart’s content.Books had long been her friends, the one constant in a world she sometimes didn’t understand. Especially when she no longer felt as though she belonged, or understood her place in the universe. She could count on books.So what if part of her suggested it was a lonely and pathetic existence? She was between wars. She had a right to rest for a while.The streets were relatively quiet. Most people were probably at dinner or getting ready to go out for the evening. The fishy scent of wet wood and mud assaulted her as she approached the bridge, and yet her lips curved appreciatively. One of the hardest things about giving up Themyscria was the loss of connection with nature. Diana needed to spend some time among green, living things to feel truly connected to the world she’d sworn herself to protect. She missed the murmur of the sea, and the clear, clean light of the moon on the beach. She missed the deep, earthy smell of damp leaves and dirt beneath her feet, and the brilliance of the sun on the whitewashed buildings of Themyscria in the mornings.But most of all, she missed the communion of her sisters-in-arms, her comrades, her companions.That, and Steve Trevor. Time had blunted the loss of both, and yet there were evenings when, like tonight, she still mourned as if only weeks had passed, instead of decades.Deep within her thoughts, she didn’t notice the figure on the bridge ahead of her at first. The sight of a stranger triggered a rapid threat assessment, but she quickly dismissed the idea this person was dangerous. For one thing, it was a woman, and though Diana had known many formidable warriors in her time, rarely had she encountered a woman outside of her Amazon clan who knew how to fight. There was also an air of sorrow in the woman’s posture as she stood at the railing that belied any risk to anyone but herself. In fact, the sight of the woman alone on the bridge, looking out over the river, sent a shiver of concern through Diana. Surely she wasn’t contemplating suicide? Diana picked up her pace, hoping to intervene without precipitating foolish action on the woman’s part.As Diana approached, she could see the woman was stylishly dressed, despite having come out without a hat. That was unusual enough to suggest she was too distraught to remember it. The sunlight glinted off her watch as she rotated her hand, dumping the contents of a small vial into the river. Blood-red nails gleamed, matching the liquid that flowed from the vial. For the briefest of moments, Diana recalled Dr. Poison and her treacherous concoctions that had ultimately killed Steve. A well of anger boiled up within, and Diana’s fists clenched as she hurried to intercept this stranger on the bridge. It might be too late to prevent her from contaminating the river with that mysterious vial but the Lasso of Truth would force her to reveal the contents.Her hand slipped beneath her coat to rest on the golden rope coiled at her hip.But then the peach-colored light of the setting sun kissed the woman’s cheeks, highlighting the tears trailing down them. And as Diana instinctively slowed her pace, she heard the woman murmur, “Goodbye, my darling.”The words hit Diana like an unblocked kick to the chest.She pulled up abruptly, like a horse suddenly faced with a ditch too great to leap.It’s possible that had Diana continued walking, the other woman would have remained cocooned in her grief and ignored her, but Diana’s sudden halt forced the woman to take notice of her. The narrowing of the well-dressed stranger’s eyes sent a little fission of recognition through Diana. She was being assessed, by Hera. Assessed by this stranger, who subtly shifted into a position of defense, one leg back, body angled sideways. Making herself a smaller target while adjusting her weight off her kicking leg. The vial was no longer in sight.Diana smiled, hoping to make the other woman feel less threatened.It didn’t work.She cleared her throat, pushing the unnecessary glasses up the bridge of her nose. She’d often found such a gesture made her seem less intimidating for some reason. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just—” Something about the other woman made Diana realize anything less than completely honesty would be useless here. “I couldn’t help but notice you. There at the railing. Is everything all right?”The woman inhaled sharply. Lips painted in a deep, rich red parted in surprise, and then suddenly curved into a smile. “Oh dear. You thought—? No. I’m fine. Really, I am.”Her accent was British, and for a moment, Diana was reminded of Etta. Other than the lilt in her voice, however, the two women couldn’t have been more different. Etta was short and round, pragmatic in a comforting way. This woman possessed a kind of preciseness about her, elegant and fashionable. Dangerous. But vulnerable, too.“If you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t exactly look fine. You seem… pensive.”“Pensive.” The dark-haired woman repeated the word, rolling it off her tongue as though savoring the sound of it. “Now there’s a nice fine word you don’t hear often these days. But you’re right. It suits the occasion.” Without a shred of self-consciousness, she wiped the corner of her eye with the tip of her ring finger, brushing away the last tear. “All better now. Thank you for your concern.”“Very well. If you’re sure.” Diana smiled again, a polite smile that begged pardon, and dipped her head in a short nod as she went around the woman to continue on across the bridge. She adjusted her book bag over one shoulder to disguise the somewhat bulky shape of the shield on her back. Perhaps the average person on the street would pay no mind, but something told her that this woman would notice.Diana had only taken a few steps when something made her stop and look back. “I say. I don’t suppose you could recommend a place where one could get a good cup of coffee?”The tension was back in the stranger’s body again, muscles poised to act if threatened.Curiouser and curiouser. Who had taught this woman to be so defensive? More importantly, what woman had given her cause to be ready to fight at the drop of a hat, so to speak? It was an interesting puzzle, and if Diana was honest with herself, an exciting one too. Another long moment passed between them, and then the woman relaxed ever so slightly.“The L&L Automat isn’t too far from here.” The woman shrugged. “The coffee’s only tolerable, but they’ve got decent pie.”“Pie?” Diana perked up as though she were a collie who’d heard the Master’s whistle. Pie was good but… “Would they by any chance serve it à la mode?”The stranger’s face broke into a real smile, not the shadow image of before. “It wouldn’t be apple pie without ice cream.”“Ice cream.” The words came out in a little moan, and Diana blinked at herself, startled at how orgasmic she sounded. “I mean, that would be wonderful, thank you. And this automat is located…?”To Diana's surprised delight, the woman came away from the railing. “I’ll show you. I’m headed that way.”Nothing was more natural than for the two of them to fall into step together. Drawn by the pleasant sound of the tapping of their heels on the pavement, Diana glanced down. A small sound of admiration escaped her. “Oh, those shoes are lovely! Where did you get them?”“These?” The woman briefly lifted one foot out in front of her, showing off the blue peep-toe shoe. A neat little strap fastened around her ankle. “Would you believe Woolworth’s? These are just a cheap copy. If you want the originals, they have them at Macy’s.”They continued walking. “I’ll have to look for them.” Diana frowned at her own boots. “I tend toward the practical, but I confess, sometimes I long for pretty things too.”“Most women do.” The woman spoke lightly, but there was a hint of coolness to her voice. Diana wondered what she’d done wrong but shrugged it off. Whatever had this woman on the defensive, it was unlikely it had anything to do with Diana herself.A moment later, the woman seemed to have come to some sort of decision. “It’s nice to have things in strong colors again. Everything was so drab during the war. My name’s Peggy. Peggy Carter.”The memory of the first time Diana introduced herself to someone in this world was suddenly there, as though it had happened yesterday. She’d been in the process of identifying herself as the Princess of Themyscria when Steve had cut her off mid-word, and her new persona had been born. “Diana Prince.”She could smile at the memory now, just a little. Why her ghosts were haunting her this evening, she had no idea. That was the funny thing about ghosts, though. You could make your peace with them and they still showed up from time to time. She stopped and held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Carter.”Miss Carter seemed a little taken aback, but shook Diana’s hand. Her grip was firm, decisive, brief.On the other side of the bridge, they continued for several blocks until Miss Carter paused at a side street. “The restaurant is about ten blocks this way.” Miss Carter pointed. “I happen to be going that direction, but if you’d prefer not to walk—”“It’s a lovely evening and I don’t get the chance to walk as much as I’d like these days.”With a nod, Miss Carter headed down the side street. Diana matched strides with her easily.After a bit, Miss Carter shot her a sideways glance. “You’re not from around here, are you?”“No more are you.” Diana had the sense of being interrogated. Subtly, expertly, but interrogated just the same. She wondered what would happen if she gave the wrong answer. “My family was originally from Greece.”Well, that was more or less true.“Ah.” Miss Carter’s tone was light. “I wondered. I was having trouble pinning down your accent. Why did you come to the United States, Miss Prince?”“Please. Call me Diana.” She hardly knew who ‘Miss Prince’ was. As for the other… “What can I say? After the war, I was tired. I sought a new beginning. And you?”“If I’m to call you Diana, you must call me Peggy.” She gave a little laugh. “I was assigned here during the war as a liaison officer for one of the American military bases. I liked it so much, I decided to remain on after the war ended.”Her hands, still gloveless, bore no wedding ring. It was unusual for a single woman to find employment now that the boys were back home from the war. Perhaps she was still with the military. Pity they were unlikely to use her to her full potential. She was probably some sort of requisitions officer. But her actions on the bridge made more sense now. She’d been holding her own private memorial service.“That explains it.” Diana deliberately kept her tone friendly, so there would be no misunderstanding as to her intent. “Explains what?” There was curiosity now.Diana waved slightly in Peggy’s direction. “You seem so polished, so efficient. Yet you carry yourself like someone who knows how to fight.”That earned Diana a lifted eyebrow. “I could say the same of you.”Diana shrugged, but chose her words carefully. “My family believed in teaching women how to take care of themselves.”“Interesting.”The sun went behind the buildings, casting long shadows down the street in front of them. Withered leaves skittered along the sidewalk as the evening breeze stirred them playfully. Diana was glad for the brisk walk as well as the conversation. When Peggy asked her about her book bag, and the subject turned to literature, Diana grew animated as they discussed their favorite books. Peggy was well-read, and not just in the classics of literature, but the math and sciences as well. All too soon the neon light of the restaurant appeared.“This is it.” Peggy came to a stop outside the diner, showing no inclination to go inside.“Are you sure you won’t come in for a cup coffee? On me.” It wasn’t fair to ask Peggy to join her without offering to pay. For all she knew, Peggy couldn’t afford the treat.“I think I will. Thank you.” Peggy’s acceptance had an odd air of reservation after their previous lively conversation, but Diana paid it no mind. With a wide smile, she opened the door to the diner.She stopped just inside the door, a little bemused. The small diner had the usual booths she’d seen in restaurants before, this time upholstered in a kind of avocado-green material, but everything else was different. Behind the booths was a long, well-lit row of little shelves behind glass, divided into categories of Pies and Pastries, Beverages, and Sandwiches in Art Deco lettering. There was a waitress at the counter, who tended the coffee and manned the till, but there was no other staff. A heavy-set man sat at the far end of the diner reading a newspaper, his fedora on the table beside his empty plate.“I don’t understand.” Diana turned to Peggy. “How does it work?”Peggy delicately arched an eyebrow. “You’ve never been in an automat before? You select your food or beverages from these vending areas here.” She indicated the glassed partitions. Diana could now see each little cubicle held a food item. “Come with me.”Diana followed her over to the bank of food items. Peggy perused the pie selection, only to moan with pleasure. “French silk pie. My favorite.” She opened the little door and removed a generous slab of chocolate pie on a small plate. “If you want fresh coffee, Angie will bring it to the table.”Diana scanned the selection of pies and pastries. There were more offerings than she expected for such an arrangement. Though she was tempted to see what made Peggy hum with delight, she had her heart set on ice cream, and for that, she needed apple pie. She spotted a slice, and opened the little door. “But the ice cream?” She added hopefully.Peggy grinned. “You have to pay extra, but Angie will fix you up.” She picked up some forks, handing one to Diana, and headed back for the booths, selecting a table at the opposite end of the diner from the other customer.The waitress, presumably Angie, was at their table before they had time to take a couple of napkins from the dispenser. Her eyes were shoe-button bright: she obviously knew Peggy and was bursting with news to share. She shot Diana a quick, envious glance as she poured them both coffee without asking, her lips pressed together with the effort of not speaking outright.“Angie, Diana here would love some ice cream to go with her pie.” Peggy’s smile was indulgent, and for the first time, Diana saw a much softer side to her.“Can do.” Angie finished topping off the mugs. “Vanilla or chocolate?”“Oh.” It had never occurred to Diana to have chocolate ice cream with pie before. Maybe this was an American thing? “Both.”“Both.” Angie laughed. “Must be nice to not have to worry about your figure. You’re smashing though. Are you a model?”“Um, no.” Diana wasn’t entirely sure if she was being complemented or not but Angie’s demeanor seemed to suggest that she was. “I work at the Met.”“Huh. Waste of talent, if you ask me.” Angie couldn’t hold back her news any longer. She turned to Peggy with an electric expression. “I got a call-back!”“Oh, Angie!” Peggy’s pleasure was genuine. She reached for Angie’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. “That’s fantastic! Is it the one you were telling me about?”Angie nodded vigorously before making an obvious effort to reel in her enthusiasm. “It’s only an off-Broadway production of Oklahoma!, and only a chorus part at that, but at least it’s a call-back. It could lead to better things.”“I’m sure it will.”“Off, off Broadway.” It seemed important to Angie that she was completely honest with Peggy. “And a call-back doesn’t guarantee a part.”“I’m sure they’ll love you.”“Musical theater isn’t really my forte…”“Angie.” Peggy leveled a calm stare at her. “Don’t talk yourself out of the part. You’re a wonderful actress. Know your value and embrace it.”Angie beamed and blushed, ducking her head. “Right then. Two scoops of ice cream coming right up. Here. Let me take your pie and heat it up.” She took Diana’s plate with a smile and hurried off.Peggy serenely added a small amount of sugar and cream to her steaming mug of coffee, and Diana found herself watching the perfectly manicured hands as they performed these little tasks.“I’m guessing ‘smashing’ is a good thing.” The words surprised Diana. She’d had no intention of speaking them aloud.Peggy looked up, her expression suddenly piercing. “Why yes, indeed. Surely you know you’re extremely attractive? Despite your efforts to appear less so.”Diana felt as though she were a hart pinned in an expert archer’s sight. She weighed her words thoughtfully. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean. I think it’s a shame in general that a woman’s worth is largely bound up in how attractive she is. What a limiting criteria.”“What I mean is that you wear glasses when you don’t need to do so. Presumably to make yourself less noticeable. Likewise the tight bun and the dowdy clothing.”“My clothes are dowdy?” Come to think of it, Peggy effortlessly attained a style Diana could not seem to master, and she seemed nonetheless a warrior for it. Darn it. She missed Etta's guidance when it came to fashion. She would have to develop one of her own. “Wait. What makes you think I don’t need spectacles?”Peggy gently rolled her eyes. “Please. The lenses are plain glass. No refraction. You don’t need them, except as a protective coloration, which I happen to know something about. And then there’s the matter of the shield you’re wearing under your coat.”Diana stiffened. “What makes you think I’m wearing a shield?”Peggy’s smile grew enigmatic. “I have a little experience with shields.”It wasn’t exactly a comfortable smile. Diana had the feeling that Peggy had been playing her for some reason, getting her to talk about books and science as a means of taking her measure. Peggy had obviously pegged her as being different, and somehow this made Diana a threat. Annoyance flicked across Diana like the sting of a striking whip.Before she could say anything, Angie reappeared with Diana’s pie, now plated with two scoops of ice cream: one vanilla, one chocolate. She waited while Diana took the first bite, and her smile grew wider when Diana sighed her appreciation. “Give us a yell if you need anything else.”Diana took refuge in the warm pie and melting ice cream, concentrating on spooning the delectable flavors into her mouth rather than face the disquieting turn the conversation had taken. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. How did one respond? Better that she ignore the question of the shield altogether. When she finally looked up, Peggy was watching her.In the silence that followed, Diana was aware the other patron was in the act of paying his bill and leaving the diner. Peggy took another bite of her pie, but her gaze remained firmly fixed on Diana.Diana set down her fork reluctantly and spoke, feeling the need to explain herself to Peggy for some reason. “I sometimes get unwanted attention. It’s easier to downplay my appearance. To look drab.” Although she hadn’t realized the extent to which she’d done that until now. “I have no need to advertise who I am.”Again, the words surprised her. She was revealing far more of herself to a relative stranger than she’d done in decades.“I can understand that.” Peggy took a sip of coffee. “But I learned a long time ago to dress and act for myself, not for the people around me.”“It doesn’t strike you as playing into society’s definition of you?” Diana really wanted to know.Peggy shrugged. “Aren’t you doing the same by playing the mouse? At least my way, I get to wear the clothes that please me. There is also value in letting someone underestimate you because you are a ‘mere woman’. There’s been a time or two when I’ve been able to use my sexuality to my benefit.”She made sense. Perhaps Diana didn’t need to take things to such an extreme. It was possible to blend in without making herself unattractive in the process. If nothing else, time in the mortal world had taught her that she wouldn’t be taken seriously simply because she was a woman. She might as well dress to please herself then.Peggy’s next words were like an unexpected dagger to the ribs. “Why did you seek me out?”“Excuse me, what?” Diana experienced an odd sinking feeling, as though she’d stepped onto firm ground only to discover a tiger trap beneath.Peggy set down her mug. Steam rose gently from it, as innocent as though she were not squaring off with Diana right now, but they were just two friends out having coffee and pie. “You sought me out on the bridge. What do you want from me?”Diana frowned. “I think you’re mistaken. As I said before, I saw you on the bridge and I thought—well, I thought you might do yourself harm. That’s why I spoke to you.”“And this?” Peggy indicated the two of them sitting at the table together.Diana let out a little sigh. “I thought you looked sad. I was feeling a bit sad myself. I thought perhaps you could use some company. I know I could.”Peggy’s eyes narrowed briefly, then softened. “I see. Well, as a matter of fact, I was saying goodbye to a dear friend.”“I gathered as much. I didn’t mean to intrude, but I couldn’t help but overhear a little.”Peggy toyed with her fork, her appetite apparently gone. “Like so many others, he was lost during the war. His name was Steve. He was a pilot.”Diana reared back in her seat, her nostrils flaring like a horse that had been ridden hard in battle. She clapped both hands down on the table with such force the plates jumped, and leaned into them to glare at Peggy. “How dare you? Who told you to say that?” Who could possibly know Diana’s story, enough to wound her so deeply like this?Peggy was taken aback, her surprise genuine as her eyes widened and her fist closed over the fork. “What in heavens name do you mean? Why would anyone tell me to say anything, let alone something private like that?” Her basic confidence returned, and she put the fork down. She balled up the napkin to toss it over the half-eaten pie, glaring back at Diana.“I lost someone during the war.” Diana enunciated every word with exact precision. “His name was Steve. He was a pilot.” She snapped out her sentences in a slightly mocking tone.This time Peggy’s mouth fell open in shock. The jolt was brief, however. Her brows pulled together as she spoke with clipped fury. “That’s impossible. Someone primed you with that information in order to get to me.”“Why would anyone want to get to you? Who are you that makes you think you are so important?”Peggy dismissed Diana’s anger with a furious wave of her hand. “Not me per se, but what I had. There on the bridge. Well, it’s too late, it’s gone now. You can’t have it.”Angie appeared at the table as if by magic, coffee pot in hand and a bright smile pasted on her face. “Everything okay here? Can I top you off?” The hand holding the carafe hovered slightly over Diana’s lap, and she had the impression one nod from Peggy and the whole boiling contents would stream over her.“We’re fine.” Peggy’s tone was anything but, yet the glance she spared Angie was plainly thankful even in its refusal of aid.Diana waited until Angie retreated before saying, “I beg to differ. You have accused me of making up a story—of lying—about something very sacred to me. Worse, you are claiming that this is your story, as if I have no right to it.” Diana tapped the table in front of her with her index finger. “I am sorry that in a moment of weakness I thought to offer friendship, but I will tell you this, if you have put something in the river to harm the citizens of this city, I will see that justice is done.” She stood up abruptly, opened her wallet, and removed several bills, placing them on the table. “I trust this will cover the tab.”She was on the point of leaving when Peggy spoke sharply. “What kind of plane was it?”Diana whirled back to face her. “What?”There were not many people who could stay calm in the brunt of Diana’s anger. Peggy Carter was one of the few. “The friend you lost. The pilot. What kind of plane was he flying when he died? Surely you’d know that.”The look on Peggy’s face said it all, that she still did not believe Diana was telling the truth. The injustice of it made Diana spitting mad. Her howling rage at Steve's loss threatened to boil to the surface and she had to fight to control her emotions. “How should I know? I don’t know one plane from another. It was big—a bomber—and it was filled with b-bad things.” Her voice broke and this only made her angrier. “Chemical weapons. Horrible, deadly weapons meant to wipe out the countryside. And Steve chose destroy it—and himself—rather than let it fall into the wrong hands.”It wasn’t until Peggy stood and offered a wad of paper napkins that Diana realized she was crying. She snatched them from Peggy’s hand with ill-grace, wiping her eyes and then blowing her nose before stuffing the napkins in her coat pocket.“I’m sorry.” Peggy’s quiet words held real apology in them.Diana sniffed. “I hate it when I get so mad I cry.”Peggy snorted. “Me too.” She paused and added with a little smile, “What are the odds, huh? That you and I both have lost someone important to us, pilots named Steve.”“It does seem unlikely.” Diana conceded grudgingly.As though reading her mind, Peggy said, “You needn’t worry about what I poured into the river. A keepsake, that’s all. Something that had more power to harm if I kept it than if I got rid of it.”Diana didn’t need the Lasso of Truth to know Peggy was speaking it. The sacrifice of her actions was written on her face.“I’ll tell you about it someday.” Peggy hesitated. “That is, if you’d still like the company from time to time.”“I’d like that.”Diana stated the simple truth. It had done her good to vent some of her anger. She felt somehow cleansed, the air clearer for the passing storm.“Good.” The tension oozed out of Peggy suddenly, and for the first time all evening, she seemed completely relaxed. “I look forward to it.”“As do I,” Diana’s voice was serenely sweet. “For one thing, I’d like to know why you were so suspicious of me from the very start.”Peggy arched an eyebrow at her. “You mean aside from the fake glasses, the hidden shield, and the fact you walk like an Amazon?”Diana started at the reference, only to realize Peggy meant it figuratively, not literally. She shrugged. “We all have our stories. Some of them are more interesting than others.”“I have a feeling your stories are very interesting.” Peggy paused to indicate Diana’s plate. “I’m afraid your ice cream has melted.”Diana glanced at the sodden mess, her appetite gone. “No matter. There will be other days for ice cream.”“True. Besides, some stories call for something stronger than ice cream.” Peggy indicated the door with a nod. “You bought me coffee, may I buy you a drink?” She saw something in Diana’s face that made her add, “We can start with the little stories. Save the big ones for another time.”“I’d like that.” Diana collected her book bag and watched as Peggy paid the bill. She and Angie exchanged quiet words, ones that made Angie peer around Peggy’s shoulder to stare at her, but Peggy’s smile was natural when she rejoined Diana at the door.“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Peggy’s words had the air of being some sort of quote.Diana countered with the only thing she could think of. “Or a bridge to a greater understanding.”Peggy shot her a smile that seemed oddly shy. “That’s nice. I like that. Is that from a movie or a book?”"Neither." Diana smiled back. "It was something my mother used to say."The two of them stepped out into the cool night air. ~fin
11395614	Library Kisses	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harold Finch, John Reese", "Fandom": "Person of Interest (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Liebelit", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-04T00:00:00", "words": "438", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Harold Finch/John Reese, Harold Finch & John Reese", "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 }	Deep within the rows of books in the library, Harold had just pulled out the last volume he needed when he heard the telltale approaching footsteps of his partner. Of course this signal of John's arrival was only so because John wanted to be heard, something Harold much appreciated after that first time he had been distracted and surprised by a silent ex agent creeping in the library after their work had been done. Thankfully these days they were past the need for spying on each other, for the most part, or keeping a watchful eye open out of suspicion. Now there was only tea and coffee along with unhealthy sugary pastries in the morning, a mission, and a man he trusted. There was something rather endearing about it, Harold mused, the way John always eagerly came back to the library like clockwork whether he had been called or not. "Good morning, Harold." The man in question said softly as he strode in between the lines of books."Ah, Mr. Reese, good morning. We just received a new—"His words were cut abruptly by a pair of soft lips on his own, and Harold almost dropped the stack of books in his arms when he belatedly registered that John was kissing him."What was that?" He asked, face flushed and eyes wide when John leaned away and ended the brief kiss."Harold," there was teasing edge in the intimate whisper of John's voice, further highlighted by his slight smirk, "I know you don't get out much but you must have been kissed before, right?""Yes, thank you, Mr. Reese I know what a kiss is," Harold grumbled, "I was merely asking why you gave me one."John shrugged, the smirk widening into a smile while he casually took the books from Harold as if nothing was amiss. "I wanted to."Even though he gaped at little at John's brazen response, Harold was secretly pleased. Aside from fulfilling their duty to the numbers, Harold wanted nothing more than for John to get anything he desired; and he was delighted that what John desired was apparently him. As they found their newest number together, Harold's mind kept going back to that innocent but passionate kiss. He knew nothing that could come of it would last, but he wouldn't mind it if a short peck on the lips became part of their morning ritual. Whatever happened, for however long they had coffee and tea, unhealthy breakfasts, and kisses between the rows of books before working on the numbers, Harold knew that in the end they would at least have each other.
11340642	i cant sleep but i can	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Emerald City (TV 2016)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by thecourageofstars", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "729", "Additional Tags": "ec drabbles", "Relationship": null, "Character": "Sylvie (Emerald City)", "Relationships": "Dorothy Gale/Lucas \| Roan, Glinda/Lucas \| Roan", "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 }	Roan falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow. He’s back at the meadow, the farm house in the distance, watching Sylvie play with Toto and some young girls he doesn’t recognize, Dorothy comfortably ensconced in his arms. The sun is warm, the breeze light, and the grass cool beneath him. Dorothy smells intoxicating, like hot sunshine, honey and lavender. “What are you thinking about?” she whispers, caressing his throat with her hand. He smiles and tangles their fingers together. Her hands are softer than his, but strong and wiry. “I’m happy,” he tells her and presses a kiss into her hair, inhaling the scent of her. He watches her smile, blissful, feeling a heady sort of pleasure rush through his blood. She turns and uses his shoulders to lift herself so she’s sitting in his lap and runs her hands through his short hair. The feeling sends a tingling feeling down his spine and he wraps his arms around her so she’s pressed into his chest. He kisses her hotly, mouth gliding against hers and hands pressing into her back and tangling in her dark curls before moving to press her into the grass. Dorothy gazes up at him with molten eyes (she’s beautiful, so beautiful, especially so in the fading sunlight) and when he bends to press an open mouth kiss to her neck, she giggles. “Maybe not best to do this where our girls can see us.” The wording of ‘our girls’ sends an odd thrill through him, but it hardly seems to matter with Dorothy smiling up at him with such joy. He’s never seen her this happy, this teasing. Her eyes are impossibly warm, and when she caresses his face, her touch is sweet and tender. He leans into her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I love you,” she says softly, and he smiles broadly. “Dorothy,” he rumbles and it sounds an awful lot like ‘I love you too.’ He leans in to kiss her again, closing his eyes. When he opens them, he is sprawled across Glinda’s bed. Moonlight spills through the arching window and- Heedless of anything else, he closes his eyes again and tries go back to the meadow, to hear the laughter of children, the feel of Dorothy pressed to his chest, her smile against his throat, but nothing comes. There is just an echo of guilt and anger that's defined the past day that rattles dangerously in his chest and makes him shift uncomfortably on the bed. Longing presses into his chest like a bruise. Next to him, Glinda lays motionless, but Roan suspects that she is awake and merely biding her time until she decides to confront him. A part of him aches to close his eyes and escape back to Dorothy and the meadow but Roan is more pragmatic than Lucas. Instead he sits up and holds his head in his hands. “You talk in your sleep you know.” Ah. There it was. “I’ve never heard you complain before.” The moment the words leave his mouth, he realizes why she brought it up. “I’ve never had cause to complain.” She sounds annoyed and dangerous. Roan can’t say he blames her. Saying another woman’s name in bed is hardly something to brush over, unlike, say, him forgetting to wipe the mud from his boots before entering her castle. Absentmindedly, he lays a hand across the wound from Nimbo. It’s still tender, but Dorothy had declared it as “healing nicely” when they were at the farm house. The realization swells without preamble and washes over him, but he feels no surprise. (“I’m sorry Dorothy. But they came first.”) He meant them at the time, but now they feel like a sham. Wishes he could take them back. Wishes he could tell her that he understands why she wanted to go back to Kansas so badly now that his world is bigger than her, Sylvie and Toto. No, he won’t abandon Glinda or her girls, but he’ll never look at Glinda the same again. Won’t feel the same about her again. If he could, he wouldn’t have had a dream about rolling around in a meadow with Dorothy while their (their!) children played nearby. Glinda has never been able to read thoughts, but she senses the feelings that Roan’s thoughts evoke and quietly, she begins to seethe.
11308779	Shared Clothing	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Marvel Cinematic Universe", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-26T00:00:00", "words": "144", "Additional Tags": "Domestic Fluff, Peter Parker - Freeform, Loki/Tony - Freeform, Established Relationship", "Relationship": "Loki/Tony Stark", "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 }	It was Wednesday. Perfect Manhattan, bright and breezy day. With the lower floors of the Avengers tower was already busy with employees for their day to day jobs. Buzzing with energy. Opposing to the upper floors. Calm and quiet. With the inhabitants sound asleep, curled up against each other. Hands and legs intertwined. Light snores and even breaths.Their clothes littered on their bedroom floor from last night’s activity. A resounding buzz stirred them awake.“Mmm it- Peter..” Loki mumbled against Tony’s chest.“Five minutes more..”Loki groaned and poked Tony’s shin with his toe. “Stark he’s your responsiblmm…”“Our responsibility.” Tony corrected, yawning.“Not today. It’s your turn Anthony.” Loki answered successfully shoving his lover out of the bed. With a heavy sigh Tony picked whatever clothes he could get first before rushing to save Peter for whatever trouble he got himself with.
11371146	Potsielui so vkusom	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope, Min Yoongi \| Suga", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Kessay", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-01T00:00:00", "words": "972", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Drugs, Drama, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe", "Relationship": "Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope/Min Yoongi \| Suga", "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 }	Губы у Хосока твердые, теплые и немного шершавые с подсохшими корочками – он слишком часто их кусает. Юнги проводит языком по только начинающей заживать ранке и морщится, когда чувствует солоноватый привкус крови. Он отстраняется назад, продолжая крепко держать Хосока за предплечья, и хмурится, встречая направленный на него взгляд. В глазах Хосока огни вселенной, кратерные озера и безмятежность – он смотрит сквозь Юнги, словно не видит вовсе, и улыбается своим мыслям.Юнги хочется его ударить, хочется вытравить из глаз и души эту безмятежность, хочется навсегда стереть улыбку с лица. Он сильнее сжимает руки на тонких предплечьях и подается вперед, упираясь лбом в лоб, ловит губами спокойное и ровное дыхание.Хосок не здесь, не с ним. Хосок болтается в тумане наркотического бреда и улыбается мирам, которые расцветают под веками.Юнги обнимает его за талию, вжимаясь всем телом, и слепо шарит ладонями по спине.– Посмотри на меня, – шепчет надрывно, отчаянно, на грани слышимости.Он чувствует прикосновение к своим волосам и, что есть силы, прикусывает губу, чтобы не закричать. Где-то внутри этого человека живет его Хосок. Где-то глубоко внутри, погребенный под кучей проблем, под горой сожалений и несбывшихся надежд спит его Хосок. Где-то очень глубоко, в темноте и пустоте, одурманенный лекарствами, ждет его Хосок.– Посмотри на меня, – тихо скулит Юнги, зажмуриваясь до цветных пятен перед глазами.Вина колючей проволокой змеится под кожей – оставил, не уследил, не успел. Погнался за мечтой, как мотылек на свет, полетел на дурманящие огни славы – Юнги купился на внешний лоск, повелся на сладкие речи. Он бросил всё, что у него было, ради далеких звезд, к которым отчаянно тянул руки, оставив позади целый мир. И, словно Икар, потерял свои крылья, когда подлетел слишком близко к солнцу.Юнги возвращался домой побежденным, но не сломленным, плечо оттягивала тяжелая дорожная сумка, в кармане звенели ключи. Он верил в свои силы, верил в свою музыку и знал, что однажды доберется до звезд, которые насмешливо сияют над его головой.Квартира тогда встретила его темнотой, застоявшимся воздухом и запахами рвоты и лекарств. Сбросив сумку под вешалку, Юнги нашарил выключатель и обвел потерянным взглядом коридор. Всё было чужим и одновременно знакомым: растянутый красный свитер, черная косуха с заклепками на рукавах, покрытые слоем грязи ботинки. Не разуваясь, он прошел в комнату, подгоняемый в спину плохим предчувствием. Хосок лежал на заправленной постели, укрытый только желтым светом фонарей, заглядывающих в окно. Чужой и одновременно знакомый. Его и не его.Хосок, которого он оставлял позади, улыбался уголками губ и желал счастливого пути. Тонкими пальцами проводил по щеке Юнги и стыдливо отводил наполненные слезами глаза. Цеплялся за подол куртки и взглядом просил не оставлять. Хосок, которого он бросил, улыбался ярко, светился изнутри и грел одним своим присутствием. Тот Хосок отказывался забирать запасной ключ и обещал ждать, сколько бы времени это ни потребовало.Этот Хосок другой – бледный и болезненно худой. У этого Хосока отросшие до плеч волосы, разметавшиеся по подушке, глубокая складка между бровей и черные круги под глазами. У этого Хосока потрескавшиеся губы, искривленные в пародии на улыбку, и хриплое тяжелое дыхание. У этого Хосока шрамы веревками оплетали худые бедра, а в глазах была пустота. Такого Хосока Юнги не знал. Такого Хосока Юнги боялся узнавать.Тумбочка у изголовья кровати была завалена кучей лекарств – Юнги внутренне похолодел, когда прочитал названия половины из них. От снотворного до обезболивающего, от антидепрессантов до экстази – безумный коктейль с налетом саморазрушения.Юнги присел рядом и протянул руку, чтобы дотронуться до впалой щеки, и тут же отшатнулся, когда поймал взгляд, направленный на него. И тогда Юнги впервые подумал, что опоздал.Юнги сжимает Хосока в объятиях, сцепляя ладони в замок на пояснице, и прислоняется виском к холодной щеке. Пальцы Хосока в его волосах преступно нежные, теплые, совсем как раньше – на мгновение Юнги забывается, теряется во времени и воспоминаниях. Прошлое захлестывает его с головой: яркие улыбки, громкий смех, одна сигарета на двоих, цепочка засосов от подбородка до ключиц. Весь Хосок был только для него – открытый, искренний, настоящий. Но Юнги ушел, оставил, бросил одного и, ни разу за два года, не позвонил. Боялся, что сорвется, боялся, что, услышав родной голос, примчится назад.По тонким запястьям, скрытым длинными рукавами, тянутся белесые ниточки шрамов. Не успел, стучит в голове у Юнги, опоздал. И как заезженная пластинка – бросил, бросил, бросил.Пока Юнги летел к звездам, Хосок погружался на дно темного и холодного океана. Пока Юнги обивал пороги студий звукозаписи, Хосок ночевал в больнице. Пока Юнги вскользь проходился взглядом по выключенному телефону, Хосок, глотая слезы, раз за разом набирал его номер. Пока Юнги надирался в каком-то клубе, Хосок лежал на проезжей части, истекая кровью. Пока Юнги крутился среди продюсеров, сладко улыбался и соглашался на всё, Хосок обнимал младшую сестру и обещал ей жизнь. Пока Юнги отрабатывал контракт, стирая колени о жесткий ковер в дешевом мотеле, Хосок хоронил родителей и слушал сочувствующие голоса врачей. Пока Юнги блевал в туалете, утопая в жалости к себе, Хосок рассматривал алые разводы на дне ванной. Пока Юнги выплескивал накопившуюся злость на подпольных баттлах, Хосок глотал горстями таблетки и любовался цветными картинами перед глазами. Пока Юнги собирался домой, потеряв свои крылья, Хосок перестал ждать.– Посмотри на меня, – шепчет Юнги в третий раз и, не дождавшись ответа, подается вперед, целуя сухие обветренные губы.Хосок послушно открывает рот, отвечая на поцелуй, обнимает Юнги за шею и едва слышно стонет.В глазах Хосока огни вселенной, кратерные озера и безмятежность. В душе Хосока черная дыра, размером с галактику, и навязчивая идея сойти с ума. В мире Хосока нет места для Юнги, но Юнги не собирается сдаваться так просто. Он подносит к губам тонкое запястье и, прикрывая глаза, целует сеточку шрамов, очерчивая каждый из них языком.В глазах Юнги – Хосок с его выступающими ключицами, потерянным взглядом и позабытой тягой к жизни. В душе Юнги далекие звезды и яркая, слепящая словно солнце, улыбка. В мире Юнги ледяное море и глухие стены между прошлым и настоящим. Весь Юнги – от макушки до пяток – для Хосока. «Бери и делай со мной, что хочешь – топчи, бей, только позволь остаться с тобой. Только позволь снова научить тебя улыбаться».
11327688	Judas Kiss	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Fatladysing [archived by scullyslash_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2002-02-05T00:00:00", "words": "1,961", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Adventure, Vignette", "Relationship": "Dana Scully/Other(s)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "ScullySlash", "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 }	Judas Kiss Judas Kiss by Fatladysing Title: Judas Kiss Author: Fatladysing Feedback to: Author's Website: http://fatladysing.tripod.com Status: Complete Category: Romance, Adventure, Vignette Pairing (Primary): Scully/Other Female Pairing(s) (Secondary): Crossover Fandom (if any): Crossover Info (if any): Other Pairing Info: Rating: R Spoilers: None. Pre-'Closure' Permission to Archive: Pretty much anywhere, just let me know first. Series or Sequel/Prequel: Notes: For Rachel - my darkness light, my fiercest calm. Warnings: Disclaimer: Scully and Mulder are borrowed from our friends at Fox and 1013. I promise not to make any profit off the borrowing. Summary: Scully makes a choice. Judas Kiss by Fatladysing They lie. And yet... On the surface it looked like any other fact that filled the drawers and lined the shelves: manila folder, leaves of paper, photographs, computer disks. But this fact slid in beneath the door under the cover of night. Picked up without a thought on the way into the office, like coffee and donuts, and set on the desk for later. Yet later, upon perusal, it drained the color from her face. "Scully, are you okay?" This fact was sealed with the red stamp of confidentiality: a scrawled directive and a phone number on a note that smelled faintly of burnt tobacco. Find her. Call me. On paper it seemed irrefutable. A name unrecognizable beneath a picture familiar, a secret history that answered questions and posed more. In her hand were two possibilities vying for one truth. "Scully, isn't that...?" Isn't it? Is it? She tucked the folder into her bag, away from his prying eyes and reached for the phone. They lie. And yet... She was a face in the crowd that smiled when all others sought pretense to look away. It was this familiarity, dancing on the fringes of her memory, which first drew them together. They began to spend time together, time that neither of them had but managed to find. Stolen moments of laughter and comfort as strangers became friends and friends became something more. When the changes came they were slow. The days were grim and barely tolerable. There remained the ferocious struggle for sanity amidst the chaos. A sanity mortgaged precariously against the cost of human tragedy. The nights were Scully's refuge. A soft voice, a gentle touch, a strong embrace to gird her against the darkness of her days. It was a softness she remembered from a time she had forgotten and she allowed it to fill a void she'd long since surrendered to. The first time was remarkable. It was the movie that made Scully cry and the tears that did her in. Even more astounding was the fact that it was laughter that reclaimed the tears long lost to tragedy. And the fingers brushing against her cheek stilled her heart with nervous fear in a way even death and dying could not. But the fingers did not stop with the tear tracks. Instead they continued, following the line of her jaw and down the length of her neck. Scully sighed then, languorous and longing, causing the touch at her throat to hesitate. "Please don't tell me to stop." She reached for the warmth that was near her, drawing it close and feeling timid caution replaced by bolder, daring fingers that moved swiftly from the buttons of her blouse to the zipper on her skirt. Barriers removed, softness melted against heat and eyes she did not realize were closed fluttered open to gaze upon a face gentle with adoration. "You make me so happy." Scully felt lips against her own, full and comforting like the curves and swells that pressed against her. Her own hands found their way, sliding over the smooth skin of her back and sides and chest, coming to rest on the warm slope of her breasts. It was at once intoxicating and disorienting. "I have always wanted you, Dana." The body above hers slid down and away. Her lips tingled in abrupt abandonment. She protested, clutching weakly at shoulders that evaded her grasp, but received only murmurs in return. "Let me. Just let me..." She had to close her eyes again as those lips found the sensitivity of her inner thigh. And it was her own voice that she heard pleading as lips and tongue continued slowly upward. She writhed beneath fingers that tenderly stroked her open and burned with the tongue that slid into her. She felt the heat flaring ever higher in rhythm to the stroking between her legs until she was fire, burning beyond thought or feeling. And as the flames receded she rolled toward comforting arms and allowed herself to curl into the protective embrace. Telling Mulder became an event. He was happy for her, but suspicious. He insisted on meeting her and was surprised when the date they set arrived without interference from acts of God or man. Nervously he waited for them, but by then, suspicion had lessened considerably in the wake of his partner's obvious happiness. They sat in the corner booth, talking and laughing, safe in the anonymity of the evening crowd and catching only the polite curiosity of passersby admiring the well-dressed gentleman and his two beautiful lady friends. They spoke of common interests: science and politics and current events. When time came to pay the bill, Mulder found himself reluctant to end the evening but Scully was charming and firm in declining his invitation to coffee. That night on his couch, with writhing images and urgent voices taunting him from the television, Mulder found himself alone with his loneliness. Two possibilities vying for one truth. The information in the folder could not be verified nor denied. It came from sources that had led them astray as many times as it had led them true. Yet she hesitated, with quivering hands hovering over the phone, to ask the question of the only person who knew. Her heart hung between uncertainties. There was the familiarity to contend with, which had allowed this one woman to slip with supernatural ease through the barriers and defenses that defined and haunted her. I have always wanted you, Dana. Yet what was most disorienting was the unfamiliarity, the unusual but pervasive feeling that commanded her days and left a tingling in her spine. It affected the way Mulder and the other agents looked at her. It was beginning to affect her work. You make me so happy. Complacency was trouble. Satisfaction was trouble. She looked over her shoulder and saw the tombstones trailing behind her. It was her lot in life. She moved her hand from the phone with a sigh full of regret and resignation. It started coming back, as best-forgotten facts are wont to do, at first slow and vague then stronger and more urgent. An echo of a laugh, a ghost of an image. These are the memories you hide, deeper and deeper until they are within you, beyond consideration, analysis, and judgment. So far down you forget they are there, forget why they are dangerous. Until one day, sitting at an outdoor caf, she turns to you with a smile so familiar it steals the breath from your lungs. And as she reaches across the table for a taste of your soup, it's not a spoon but a syringe in her hand. "Agent Scully. You have some information we are interested in." "Who is this?" "We're looking for someone and we want you to find her." "Her? You're going to need to be more specific." "An operative. Part of a government test team evaluating the efficacy of extraterrestrial colonization. AWOL these past 5 months." "I don't know who she is. I can't help you." "You have her file, we sent it to you last week." "What happens if I find her for you?" "She goes into... protective custody." Scully took her hand as she walked by but didn't let go with a squeeze, didn't let go with a smile. Instead she tightened her grip fiercely and demandingly. The hand, the arm, the body she clung to did not pull away but submitted to her need. They grappled on the way to the floor, a tangle of clothes and limbs. They were hands and lips and teeth everywhere. Their intensity was warm and red: lips bruised with kissing and fingernails raking, drawing blood. Scully's fingers slipped between thighs, open and eager. It was warm and liquid but not enough. She thrust in, hard toward the heat and was rewarded with a choked gasp. She crushed her mouth against a bared breast, sharp teeth finding a swollen nipple. Quicker. Harder. Bodies rigid with sensation arched upward and together drawing forth sobbing moans. When climax came, it ripped through them both with pleasure and pain. She wasn't floating. If she strained, she could lift her hips slightly. Otherwise, she was heavy, particularly at her wrists and ankles. There were lights, bright and hot despite her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Everything was hazy, but the vagueness seemed familiar. Her neck and shoulders were throbbing and there was a spot at the base of her skull that itched so badly she thought she would go crazy from it. She wasn't dreaming, she was remembering. A cool breeze and movement to her left. She tilted her head toward it, the tendons in her neck burning with protest. A voice soft and familiar preceded a gentle touch. She tried to open her eyes but the lights were fading. She wanted to say something but her jaw dropped open, slack and useless. The voice was still there, low and soothing. She wanted to ask a question but words were not part of the memory. She blinked furiously; willed the haze to pass so she could see. A shape coalescing, leaning in. So close. So close... And then a prick in her arm... Scully woke to darkness. The body by her side stirred and then settled. The visions, faint to begin with, were fading fast. Her body was tense with anger and remembered pain. She got up, remembering who she was. She got dressed, remembering what she had. She walked away, remembering what she lost. They answered the phone after the third ring. It took thirty-two seconds to complete a trace and by then Scully had walked out the front door into the night. From her vantage point on the bed, Scully could see yellowed plaster cracking and crumbling from the ceiling above. The television was off so she could hear the frantic coupling next door. The girl was a screamer, her loud cries carried easily through the thin motel walls. Scully closed her eyes but snapped them open again to dispel the face that flashed, image unbidden, in her mind. She contemplated knocking on Mulder's door and dragging him to get food they weren't hungry for but the thought of sitting in a booth across from him, mirroring his darkest guilt, was more than she could bear. In every new city he was seeking and running away. Memory, regret, choice, and guilt. She understood him now. And unprotected by the all-consuming mantle of work, he would look across that greasy formica table and understand her too. She rolled over instead, pulling the threadbare blanket out of its precise tuck, and curled into a protective ball. Next door, the headboard banged unabashedly against her wall and the girl squealed her pleasure. Scully gritted her teeth against the hot tremors that rolled sympathetically through her. And when the activity beyond her wall finally subsided, she used the sheet clutched tightly in her fists to dry the tears that fell. THE END Visit my website: http://fatladysing.tripod.com If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Fatladysing Back to the Archive
11356368	South Camp and Morty	{ "Archive Warning": "Underage Sex", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman, Rick Sanchez, Morty Smith, Max (Camp Camp), Neil (Camp Camp), David (Camp Camp), Nikki (Camp Camp), Ered (Camp Camp)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Willy_Wanker, zero_kun", "chapters": "8/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-30T00:00:00", "words": "9,831", "Additional Tags": "Underage Sex - Freeform, Porn With Plot, Smut, Shota, Pedophilia, Swearing, Caught, Incest, Anal Sex, Fluff and Angst, Romance", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith, Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, David/Max (Camp Camp), Stan Marsh/Max (Camp Camp), Nikki/Erid (mentioned), Neil/Rick Sanchez", "Series": null, "Collections": "Sin Corps", "Fandoms": "South Park, Camp Camp (Web Series), Rick and Morty", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	‘’We’ll see you soon, sweetie.’’ Beth said, giving a Morty and Summer a brisk hug. Jerry cleared his throat, tapping impatiently on the counter of the car. ‘’Beth, we need to be going. We’ll miss the plane.’’ Morty stared at the towering trees that seemed to surround the area of the camp. He snapped his attention back to his parents. They were going on a trip to somewhere further away in America, to recollect their ‘’withering marriage’’, as Beth had told them. He wasn’t that fond on the idea of spending his entire summer at a camp, away from home and Rick’s adventures. Speaking of Rick, he wasn’t there this morning, and normally he’d object to sending Morty and Summer off to school camp. In fact, the man had insisted he could care for Morty and Summer himself, but Jerry wasn’t keen on giving his chaotic father-in-law the authority over his own kids. Adventures with Morty was already pushing the limits, he’d stated before. He didn’t realize his parents driving off and Summer waving her goodbyes to them, too lost in thought, and reluctantly called out a ‘’See you soon’’ alongside her.Summer let down her arm, turned around and looked up at the sign of the camp. Her gaze lingered there for a bit before turning back to Morty. ‘’Camp Campbell, huh?’’ ‘’Yeah.’’ Morty said absent-mindedly, kicking up dust from the ground. ‘’Let’s, uh, l-’’‘’Hello there, newcomers!’’ A cheery voice cut off Morty; the camp counsellor, David. Morty looked at the cheery guy with pursed lips and a confused stare. Even more confusing, Morty realized, was when he turned to glance at the other camp counsellors close behind him, not only did he see Gwen, the female camp counsellor, but he saw Rick, too. As if noticing Morty had seen him, Rick smirked, and said a simple ‘’Hey’’ to him. ‘’R-RICK-’’ Morty started, clenching up his hands and tensing his shoulders. ‘’W-what the f-’’‘’What do ya think of this, Mortyyy? I’m your new camp counsellor!’’ Rick cheered, waving his flask in the air as a half-wave, spilling some alcohol onto the ground. David attempted to swipe the flask off of Rick, muttering something about being a bad influence, but Rick gave him a glare and held it out of the other’s reach. Summer groaned at her grandfather’s appearance, looking away in hopes of not being seen. Just then, the sound of a car pulling up was heard, and everyone turned to look as 4 kids hopped out. They were wearing clothes that you’d wear in a typically cold place, and Morty assumed these were the other newcomers to Camp Campbell.‘’Hey, no- Cartman, stop! Fuck you!’’ One of them, who looked jewish and wore a green kind of hat, spat at another kid who was rather obese, who was poking them continuously and calling them insults.‘’Mmm!’’ One of the kids said something, but their voice was so muffled that Morty couldn’t hear anything they were saying due to the orange parka wrapped around most of their face. Morty sighed; he looked at Rick, and then back at the new kids, who were all quite obviously annoying. This was going to be a long fucking summer.That morning, Max opened his eyes, and he noticed it wasn’t because David barged into his and Neil’s tent. He blinked a few times and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, pushing himself up. Looking over to his left, he noticed Neil wasn’t awake yet. Strange, had he woken up early? When David woke him up, it was usually cold, as mornings in forests were. But at the moment, he saw sunlight pouring in from the opening of the tent. Pushing himself off of the bed, he slipped on his hoodie and stepped outside into the warm sun.Max took in a breath of the fresh air, before stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking his usual path towards the Mess Hall. He tiredly scuffled down the dirt road, hearing the chatter of wildlife, and strangely, none of any campers. The boy was close to the Mess Hall by now, he would have expected to hear at least some kind of conversation flowing out from inside the large building. He looked skyward as he noticed the Camp Campbell flag come into view, thinking of David’s stupid salute, and his smiling face. What a dork, Max thought. A small smirk appeared on his face as he peered into the unusually quiet Mess Hall. “Heey-” He started.As he expected, no one was there. Not any camper, or counsellor. Where was everybody? Was today an important event that he forgot about? Were there new campers coming- Max paused and blinked, as he thought of last nights events. He was poking at his shitty dinner in the Mess Hall as David announced something to the campers. He barely remembered what he was saying, as he was focused on the trees and how they moved in the wind. When he did decide to tune in, he heard David exclaim “-and you’d all better treat these new campers and counselors with respect--” and that’s when he decided to stop listening again.Max groaned and slapped his palm to his forehead, dragging it down his face in annoyance. Fuck. New campers? Well, Nikki and Neil were the last new kids, and of course they weren’t too bad, but not everyone is like Nikki and Neil. He picked up his feet and made his way towards the entrance of the camp, as he huffed. These new campers were likely to be annoying as all hell. Most of the kids that are already at the camp are, so why wouldn’t some new additions that come along to torture him and the counselors be fun? Max didn’t realize he was stomping until a pebble flew up from the ground and hit his cheek. He stopped abruptly when he heard a familiar loud, happy voice exclaim, “alright, kids, who’s ready for a Camp Campbell TOUR!” Only to receive groans, and a “shut up, queer,” From an obese kid in a red jacket, which he could see from where he stood, along with three other kids in winter clothing.The tan boy chuckled, but he lifted an eyebrow when he heard the laugh of a foreign adult. “Hah, nice one, you little fat fuck. N-Now, let’s get tooOEGH- touring.” He blinked a couple of times, as he watched the four kids walk out of sight, and as he heard the crunching of pine needles approach him, he prepared himself for the worst.What he saw when the group turned the corner was possibly the weirdest group of characters you could pair together. And a new counselor? He heard about it when he listened to David for a good few seconds, but he didn’t realize the man would be so.. Old. He looked as old as the Quartermaster. Not to mention his hair. What the fuck was up with his hair?“Is this some kind of fucking joke?” Max snarkily said, eyeing David, who chuckled nervously and looked over to the older counselor. “Aw, hey, little buddy! I’m R-Rick, what’s your name?” He said, gently, but Max could tell it was an act. He scoffed and watched as David reached over, and he felt the ground leave his feet as he was picked up by his hoodie. “Now, Max, what did I say last night about being nice to the new counselor?” David asked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t fucking listening.” Max retorted, crossing his arms, as he felt himself being lowered to the ground. Max felt David’s hand on his head as his hair was ruffled, and the overwhelming feeling of hate in his stomach burned like forest-fire, but he remained stagnant, his cheeks flushed and hair now a mess. David smiled brightly, “let’s continue the tour, shall we?” He said, happy-go-lucky, as usual. He ushered the supposed “Rick” to go forward, Max trailing behind as David talked his ass off about the notorious Camp Campbell.He ended up next to a kid with dark hair that poked out of a red and blue hat, as well as a red jacket. He sighed as he walked behind another kid with an orange parka. As they walked, side by side, they both seemed to notice the awkward tension in the air. Max looked over at the kid, “what’s your name?”“Stan Marsh.” Stan answered, simply. He blinked, seemingly tired. “Are these your friends?” He asked, pointing ahead, at the group of three in front of them. “Yeah, the ones in winter clothing. Except Cartman, the big, fat bitch,” Max chuckled under his breath at this. “Oh, and those two? In the yellow and the pink? I don’t know them.”“Nice to meet you. I’m Max.” He sighed. They walked alongside each other, silently, for a few moments, none of them listening to David. “How long have you been here?” Stan asked, finally glancing at Max.“Three summers in a row,” Max sighed, shaking his head.Stan raised an eyebrow, but returned staring at the ground after. “You could have ran away, if you tried hard enough.”“I have.”“Must have been some pretty shit attempts,” Stan chuckled.“Why are you wearing jackets and hats in the summertime?” Max asked, changing the subject.“I don’t know.” The black haired boy smiled, and seemed to tune into David, now. Max stared at the boy a little longer, and then decided to start to listen, too. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The tour was soon over and everyone went to settle down; whether it be playing games, relaxing in their tents or speaking with one another. Stan looked around, instinctively looking for Kyle and Kenny, maybe Cartman, but instead saw Max. Max was lounging about, talking to Neil and Nikki, his friends, although Nikki departed to go speak to Erid and Neil eventually left, too, to go do science.. Or whatever it was that Neil was doing. Stan made his way towards Max, exchanging a casual ‘’Hey’’ with one another as he went to go stand near him. ‘’Nikki and Neil, like, ditched you,’’ Stan pointed out, although it was simply the obvious. ‘’Anyways, hey.’’‘’You’re not with your other friends,’’ Max stated. It sounded a little bit rude or unwelcoming, but the kid added a ‘’Who cares about them anyways?’’, in which Stan then knew he was only curious. ‘’Hah, yeah.’’ Stan chuckled in reply to Max, enjoying the company he shared now with someone more like him. He looked over to see Kenny, who was walking towards them. He went without Kyle and Cartman, surprisingly, and Stan became even more puzzled on the other two’s whereabouts.Kenny said something almost inaudible, speech muffled by his orange parka, although Stan waved to Kenny in reply, having known what the kid said. If you listened close enough, it wasn’t impossible to understand, but certainly hard.‘’Mmm mm?’’ Kenny spoke; voice inaudible, as always, and Stan shrugged in reply. He simply glanced at Max and then back at his friend.‘’This is Max.’’ Stan told him, ‘’He’s one of the campers.’’‘’How the fuck do you understand what he’s saying?’’ Max questioned, raising an eyebrow at Kenny. ‘’You can’t hear anything he’s saying at all, I swear-’’‘’Oh, you get used to it.’’ Stan explained. Max nodded understandingly, but still looked confused out of his mind. ‘’What’s it like around here, anyways?’’‘’It’s shit.’’ Max said bluntly, ‘’I’ve already told you; all the activities are bad, mediocre, broken down… And the Quartermaster is the kind of guy you see in horror movies.’’‘’Huh.’’ Stan muttered, Kenny saying something else inaudible in reply aswell. They stayed there for a while, silently wondering what to say. ‘’Mmm mm mmmm!’’ Kenny piped up, finally. Stan glanced back at him and Max, before saying, ‘’No, Kenny, we’re not looking at titties. There’s no computers around here.’’‘’Neil made a computer a while ago, actually-’’ Max stated, motioning towards the tent that Neil originally shared with him. A little shortly after the tour, the campers had been reassigned to different tents, and Max didn’t bother to remember the shit reason David gave them. Now he had moved tents and Neil shared with some kid named Morty. He thought back to how Neil had made a computer, and how he still keeps in that tent, although it looked extremely old-fashioned and it broke down soon after when an A.I was attached to it. ‘’-I could ask him to repair it.’’‘’Sure.’’ Stan agreed. He smiled at Max, who smirked back at him, and realized he didn’t need those shit friends like Kyle and Cartman. He’d spend the summer with Max and Kenny.Cartman walked along the trail, behind a tall, old man. Did he want to be here? No. Did he have to? Yes. His stupid whore mother forced him here; and with his idiotic, annoying friends. Kyle, Stan, and Kenny. All those who he hung out with, but secretly disliked. He shuffled along next to Kyle, who had taken his hat off and clutched it in his hands. “Your jewfro is showing, fuckin’ jew,” He retorted, watching the nonchalant expression on Kyle’s face morph into anger quickly. “Fuck you, dude,” He whispered back, staring at his feet. Just then, Cartman felt himself bump into the scrawny legs of the taller man in front of him, and he grunted. He was about to notify the person of his mistake, but he looked around and noticed everyone had stopped walking, and they had ended up in a small area with two rows of tents. He scratched his head as he stepped back, hearing an annoying voice announce names. “Eric will be in a tent with Kyle, Neil with Morty, umm… Max with Kenny, Summer with Erid, Stan with Nurf-” Cartman snickered. What the fuck kind of name was Nurf?Cartman felt boredom creeping up on him, and he let out a yawn, as he stared at the lowering sun. He reached over and tug on Kyle’s orange sleeve, watching from the corner of his eye as Kyle looked over at him. “Hey, Kahl, isn’t this boring?” He whispered, watching the ginger counselor’s mouth move as he was still talking. Kyle nodded, with a sigh. “We have to get to our tent, come on,” the boy said, as he turned around with Cartman towards Stan and kenny, but finding no one instead.“What the fuck?” Kyle muttered, as he looked around for a sign of them, seeing Stan walk off with Kenny and another kid in a blue hoodie. Cartman sighed and shook his head. “Oh well. Guess that leaves us on our own, huh?” He turned to the other, watching as Kyle was already trying to walk away. Reaching out quickly, Cartman gripped his hand and chuckled, “ha, got you, jew.” Kyle frowned and jerked his hand away, as he felt the breeze blow on his face. Cartman surveilled the area, only finding tents and trees. He groaned, “this place is bullshit.”Grabbing Kyle’s hand again, he rushed into the trees, going as fast as his fat legs would carry him. He heard the ginger curse as they landed on a pile of dead branches. He rolled over to where he faced skyward, a smirk forming on his lips. He reached around and noticed the absence of his hat, as he felt the cool air on his head. “Kahl, could you grab my hat for me?” He asked. “No, you fatass, get it yourself,” Kyle replied, as he pushed himself off of the ground and dusted himself off. Cartman crawled closer to Kyle, grunting, grabbing a hold on Kyle’s pants and trying to pull himself up.Instead, he felt his grip loosen as Kyle’s pants were pulled down. He looked up and saw Kyle’s red face as he dropped to the ground to grab said pants, all the while Cartman laughed. “Hahaha! I pantsed you, bitch!” He said, in hysterics, all the while, Kyle thought this wasn’t funny at all. “Shut the fuck up, or a counselor will hear us,” The boy said, quiet, his face still red as he huffed. He was in the midst of pulling his pants up as Cartman stood, grabbing his hat in the process. “Hah,” Cartman caught his breath as he wiped away tears from his eyes, “if only someone saw cute little Kahl with his pa-” “Did you call me cute?” Kyle interjected, crossing his arms. “No- Shut up, jew,” Cartman lied, feeling his own cheeks start to burn. He then heard rustling nearby, and both Kyle and his name being called. He blinked as he saw a tall girl emerge from the bushes, seemingly annoyed, a hand on her waist. “Come on, kids. Let’s go back to our tent, huh?” She sighed as she watched Cartman make his way out of the forest, Kyle behind him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Rick sat down, exhausted. He stared at the kids that he’d be supervising all summer, playing or talking against a pink and orange sunset. They all looked strange, eccentric even, one even wearing a full-on space suit. Rick snorted at the kid, who’d seen and known far less about the universe than him in his lifetime, but couldn’t bring himself to care about the sight for more than 5 seconds. His eyes trailed off and found Morty walking towards him from a distance. The kid looked as if he was in complete despair, hating this summer camp already, and Rick couldn’t exactly say he blamed him. At least Morty had him, and Summer maybe, but as he looked around he noticed Summer was conversing amongst two girls that he’d been introduced to as Nikki and Erid. Morty went and seated himself next to Rick, wriggling around slightly in reply to the uncomfortable area. They were sitting down on bare ground, with some sticks and pebbles, and Rick had just dealt with it. To be honest, though, Rick was tired from the long day and couldn’t find it in himself to retort at Morty to just deal with it. Finally, Morty sat down begrudgingly, although he glanced at Rick without a word. ‘’You look like yo-OUGggh you’re having a great time,’’ Rick commented sarcastically, and Morty huffed in reply. He couldn’t find it in himself today to throw a frustrated reply back at Rick either, by the looks of things. Rick frowned sympathetically at Morty’s silence, something he rarely ever did. ‘’We’re both having a tough day, huh?’’ ‘’Yeah.’’ Morty replied simply. He leaned into Rick, and added quietly, ‘’Well, I have you, I guess.’’ ‘’Sheesh, when did you get this gay?’’ Rick scoffed. He took a swig of his flask, and Morty looked up to see a playful glint in his eyes. Rick noticed Morty analyzing his expression before drifting off, although the boy flinched awake when Rick yelled. ‘’Hey! There’s a kid that looks like you. Didn’t know it was the camp for losers.’’ ‘’R-Rick!-’’ Morty began to complain, but sighed, obviously finding it better to leave things be. ‘’Yeah, he- uh, t-thats kind of weird.’’ Rick, disappointed as he saw Morty become uninterested again and drift off, instead focused on the boy. Neil, he remembered, was his name. He was focusing on some experiment, although he hovered so close to it that Rick couldn’t make out what it was. He prepared himself for the unimpressive, cliche ‘’paper mache volcano’’ to be revealed, but instead saw the kid turn around buzzing with excitement at something that was almost Rick’s level of intelligence. ‘’He-he may look like you, Morty, buUUHt he’s way smarter.’’ Rick pointed out, and Morty’s eyes flickered open to look at what Rick was talking about. Rick noticed a look of hurt in his grandson’s eyes, knowing full well that Morty’s intelligence was a soft spot for him, but he shrugged it off as the kid being overly sensitive. Rick, instead, picked himself up from the ground and made his way over to Neil, glancing back to notice that Morty had propped himself up too, not having Rick to lean on anymore. A kind of hurt or jealousy was vague yet visible in Morty’s expression, as Rick had ditched him for someone else. ‘’He’ll get over it,’’ Rick muttered to himself. ‘’Heeyy, kid, whatcha got there?’’ Rick asked as he reached Neil’s location, taking another swig from his flask. Neil gave him a hesitant look before holding it out to show the man, not expecting a full understanding of his science. ‘’It’s an A.I that can detect emotions and needs.’’ Neil said bluntly, before setting it down again. Rick hummed in thought, glancing down at the device and back up at Neil. ‘’Do you have a-a use for it?’’ Rick asked, although without waiting for a reply he picked it up. Neil swiped his hand up to grab it from the man’s grasps, but Rick held it up with an impatiently muttered ‘’Wait.’’ Neil allowed Rick to examine it, reluctantly of course, before Rick replied finally. ‘’I can one up you.’’ ‘’What?’’ Neil almost sputtered. Rick smirked at the obvious offense taken to the kid. ‘’I can update it, idiot.’’ Rick told him, setting it down on the table. He fidgeted around a bit with parts and things before picking it up again and dumping it into Neil’s hands. ‘’There. Now it can detect needs and reasons for emotion too. Don’t know why you’d need the stupid thing, though.’’ ‘’Hmm. Interesting.’’ Neil mumbled, and Rick shrugged. ‘’Have fun with it. It’s useless, but, you know, so is shit like school.’’ Rick said. Neil looked at him and raised an eyebrow. ‘’You’re a scientist?’’ He asked, before Rick could leave. ‘’Yeah, why?’’ ‘’You should show me your inventions more often.’’ Neil prompted. Rick blinked at him, unscrewing his flask’s lid in thought. ‘’Yeah, sure. You’re pretty talented yourself, kid.’’ Rick complemented, an unusual thing for him to do. He took a swig of his flask, leaving Neil to his own devices.Neil couldn’t doubt that the newfound counselor was making him curious. In fact, ever since Rick upgraded his A.I, he’d been stuck in his mind all night. He twisted and turned in the bed he share with Morty, blinking at the ceiling.“Hey, are you sleeping?” Neil whispered into the air, cringing slightly at the awkwardness he could already feel in the air. He heard a sigh and he watched as Morty sat up in the small bed. “No.” Neil laughed, awkwardly, as he remained lying down. He cleared his throat as he looked around the tent for something else to look at, that wasn’t the grumpy boy that sat next to him in bed. He took a breath in and weakly said, “I saw you hanging out with Rick..”Morty nodded, bringing his legs up to his chest and hugging them. “Yeah, he’s my grandpa.” Neil blinked, surprised for a second, “he followed me and my sister here. He’s an a-asshole.” “He seems pretty smart, though.” Neil said, smiling, “and that’s coming from me.” “Rick is smart. Like, r-r-really smart. But like I said, he’s an asshole. J-Just stay away from him, o-okay?”Neil watched as Morty plopped down on the bed and faced the wall, silently. Confusion was written on his face, but he shrugged and as his head hit the pillow, he sighed and stared at the tent wall, even more intrigued, now. The night came and went, and when Neil woke up he didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep. The sleep was dreamless, as his usually were. He yawned and sat up in bed, turning to look for Morty but finding no sign of the boy anywhere. The boy licked his dry lips as he pulled on his sneakers, walking out of the tent and finding Max was occupied by a boy in a red jacket, as they hung outside the tent two down from Neil’s.Looking around, he spotted Nikki’s turquoise hair and he slowly walked towards her. “Hey, Nikki,” He greeted, in return getting a very sudden hug from the girl. He let out a chuckle as she released, a smile apparent on her face. “Neil, I didn’t see you all day yesterday! Where were you?” She asked, rocking back and forth on her worn tennis shoes.“I woke up late, and uh.. I guess I went right to working on my science stuff. Sorry.” Neil said, putting on a half-smile for his friend. Nikki waved her hand, “pshh, it’s okay, Neil! I was with Erid all day, anyway!” She smiled. “Now, come on! We gotta go to the Mess Hall for breakfast.”The trek towards the Mess Hall came without trouble, except for the brief way there that Nikki insisted they go back to fetch Max, yanking on Neil’s arm, until he told her very sternly to stop. They stepped inside of the Mess Hall, which was overflowing with children at this point. Where the campers sat, there was a mess of camp food smeared onto the table. Where the counselors sat, he immediately noticed a bored-looking Rick.Neil nervously adjusted his collar and put his hands behind his back before making his way over to the table, seeing in Gwen and David’s facial expressions that they had noticed he was here instead of at the other table, while Rick remained bored, staring at the soggy cereal in his bowl below him.Before he could speak, though, he heard Gwen speak up. “What are you doing over here, Neil? Nikki went over there,” she gestured to that godforsaken table, but Neil paid no mind to her. “Rick?” He said, nervously, a smile on his face to mask the bubbly feeling inside his stomach.This finally caused the man to look up from his soggy cereal, a bored expression on his face that clearly showed he didn’t want to be here. “Yes?” He replied, slowly. “Uh, so-” Neil began, but he noticed the other two counselors’ eyes pierced into his soul.Neil regained himself, and tried again, “Would you like to maybe meet outside my tent after breakfast? I’ve been dying to discuss scientific topics with someone ever since I got here.”Rick only replied with a nod, and a smile, before he returned to looking at his bowl of wasted cereal. The boy exhaled and walked away from the table, proud, but as he made his way to the line for food, he wasn’t so proud to finally notice that he was late and he was getting shitty breakfast today. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Kyle huffed as he stared at Stan, Kenny and that kid named Max sitting further away on a separate table. Max, a tan kid with curly black hair, had caught the other two’s attention since the start, and now he was stuck with Eric fucking Cartman.‘’Eh, jew, what are you looking at?’’ Cartman asked, insultingly. Kyle tore his gaze away from the three and back to the asshole who sat across him on the table, feasting away at sugary Fruit Loops. ‘’Nothing, just that asshole Max that took away Stan and Kenny.’’ Kyle complained, seeming incapable of throwing back an insult to Cartman. ‘’He’s like a magnetic pull.’’‘’Why don’t you just go join them?’’ Cartman questioned, pushing away his bowl after grossly eating the contents of it. ‘’They seem like they’re having fun.’’‘’Why don’t you?’’ Kyle shot back, slumping begrudgingly into his seat. ‘’I’m too stubborn.’’ Cartman told the other boy, and with that Kyle rolled his eyes, making a movement with his hand as to suggest why he hadn’t thought of this earlier.‘’Exactly, fatass.’’ Kyle muttered. They ate mostly in silence, although Kyle admittedly felt a little bit warmed by the fact that Cartman refused to go with the other two, whether it was purely out of stubbornness or not. That wouldn’t deter Kyle’s resentment towards spending his summer with the other, who insulted and annoyed him frequently, but it was a nice feeling nonetheless, though it may be temporary.Kyle eventually felt the situation dawning on him, and he sighed despairingly, looking at Cartman and back at Max. Maybe he should just go with the two people who he actually enjoyed the company of, and considered friends, but a burning sensation in him told him that he would not give way to that temptation. ‘’I can’t stand this! I’m going to make new friends this summer.’’ Kyle announced spontaneously, and Cartman went from looking down meaninglessly with intense boredom to curiously looking at Kyle as he continued, ‘’And you should too, Cartman!’’‘’OK, whatever,’’ Cartman agreed. Kyle breathed out a sigh of relief. So maybe he wasn’t spending the summer with Cartman, and would make new friends after all. He didn’t think he could last that. Him and Cartman had never really gotten along; it was no use trying now. As he got up and left his seat, leaving anything he had left for the camp staff to clean up, he felt a pang of regret in his stomach. Why’d he want to hang out with Cartman? He didn’t like him at all. He supposed it was something else. Something stupid, and not to do with Eric or wanting to be his friend. He’d told himself all this time he’d hated the stupid kid, so he didn’t know what would change now. After the yelling in the Mess Hall had died down, David had decided that he was too excited to let the campers just sit around and talk. Now, usually, after breakfast, campers were assigned an activity to do, but instead, campers were allowed to freely roam. This gave Stan time to hang out around his new friend, whom he’d grown very fond of over the past day. And it was hard for him to ever be fond of someone, but here he was. He watched as Max stood up after the announcement, not waiting for anyone else to leave behind him, because he never waited for anybody.He followed suit, of course, watching as Max made his way down the trail, towards the tents. Stan let out a “wait up!” before he started to run towards his friend. Max continued walking with Stan by his side as he turned a corner.“Of all the things you could be doing during our free time, you’re choosing to sleep?” Stan laughed, making Max roll his eyes. He shrugged, “i’m tired, and I don’t want to be tired.” Stan nodded, in response, as they approached Max’s tent. “You think Kenny will mind if I sleep in here too?” Stan said, entering the tent after Max, slipping out of his shoes and throwing them aside. Max lay down on the bed with a sigh. “Even if he did, I can’t tell what the fuck he’s saying half the time, so if he cared enough to tell me, then..” He trailed off, and Stan giggled, as he sat down next to Max.“You know, Kenny’s always talking about boobs all the time. I bet he’s never even touched one- No, I bet he’s never even had sex before.” Stan said, turning to look at Max’s face. “Neither have you,” Max replied, snarkily, smirking as he stared into Stan’s blue eyes. Stan scoffed and pretended to act offended, “whatever, I get pussy all the time. It’s not like you’ve had sex before, either.” Silence hung in the air for a few moments. “Yeah, you totally haven’t, I can tell.” Stan sat up and looked down at Max, “Well, it’s not like I can help it,” Max rolled his eyes. Stan looked down at him, confused, “what do you mean? You’re hot enough to fuck a girl.” He paused and blushed. Did he really say that out loud? Max stared up at him for a moment, before lifting himself. Feeling Max’s lips against Stan’s set of a million fireworks in his brain. His eyes widened for a moment, before he closed them, as he carefully straddled the boy below him. He couldn’t hear the animals outside anymore or the slight wind, he only knew of Max, and Max’s lips, and Max’s tongue snaking into his mouth, and his tongue swirling with Max’s.Stan broke apart the kiss when he felt he was finally out of breath, panting, as he opened his eyes and saw Max was panting as well. He stopped for a moment and blinked. Before he knew it, both him and Max were roughly thrashing out of their clothes and throwing them on the ground, only to be left in their underwear before Max stopped Stan.“Are you sure you want to do this?” Max asked, to Stan’s surprise and discomfort, as he realized the situation he was in at the moment. Stan looked down at what he had caused; both him and Max’s erections were straining through their underwear. He licked his lips and nodded.“B-But wait- don’t we need, like, lube or something?” Stan asked, awkwardly, to which Max groaned and facepalmed. “Here.” The black-haired boy grabbed Stan’s hand and stuck two fingers in his mouth, licking his fingers as Stan watched with a red face. Max stared back at him, lust in his eyes, making Stan forget how to breathe for a moment.Once Max thought he had enough saliva on Stan’s fingers, he slid them out of his mouth with a pop. “Lube,” He said, smirking. Stan nodded and he quickly used his non-wet hand to pull off his boxers, and he shivered as cold air hit his dick. He watched as Max quickly undressed as well, both of them sitting up.Stan quickly grabbed Max’s waist, turning him over and pulling him upwards, his ass facing Stan, in all of it’s glory. The boy felt his dick twitch, as he loomed over Max’s tiny frame. He brought his two slicked up fingers to Max’s asshole, gaining a small squeak from the boy below him as he “lubed” up Max and then himself.Stan drew in a breath and positioned himself, his cock at Max’s entrance. Max bit his lip and hugged a pillow as he waited. Suddenly, he felt a tiny bit of discomfort, and then pain as Stan pushed himself inside of Max. “Fuck,” Max cursed, closing his eyes.Stan marvelled at the warmth and the tightness that was Max, letting out a small sigh as he started to roll his hips, to both his and Max’s pleasure. He heard as the boy below him let out a few whimpers, and a breathy “Stan..”Stan didn’t wait long to pick up speed. He bit his lip as he started to thrust faster, a warm, fuzzy feeling building up in his stomach as he heard Max’s moans. He watched as Max started to jerk himself off under him. His fingernails of his free hand dug into the pillow he held, moaned and cursed into. Max felt as if he was melting. As if he was being electrocuted. As if he was exploding. He let out a final moan as he felt his cum spill into his hand, and as he felt Stan’s fill him, “David!”Stan pulled out and plopped onto the bed, panting. “David?” He said, as he turned to look at Max, but he found that the boy was on the verge of sleep. The black-haired boy sat up and pulled on his boxers, along with his other clothes. He made sure to swipe Max’s hoodie, too, as he made his way back to his own tent.But just as he exited the tent, he saw a familiar boy, in a familiar orange parka, standing outside said tent. “What are you doing here?” Stan asked, all too quickly. Kenny blinked a couple of times, before turning and walking out of Stan’s sight. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Morty stood sulkily by the place he had sat down at last time. He glared at Neil, who stood unnoticingly by Rick as they discussed science. They seemed to be making genuinely good friends, but Morty took note of that bitterly rather than positively. Neil and Rick laughed in the distance, Rick seemed to show Neil his inventions, and they both bonded greatly over the matter of a few minutes. Morty felt the burning anger and hatred grow within him as he realized how that was what tightened his and Rick’s bond. Neil looked over Morty’s way once, but said nothing. He remembered his conversation with Neil in the tent, where he had warned the other to stay away from Rick, that he was a complete and utter asshole, yet Neil didn’t give a shit about what Morty said. Morty looked back on the conversation. What was his intention behind it? Did he genuinely not want someone else to get involved in the stressful everyday of Rick’s antics? No. That wasn’t his intention behind his warning. It was more so him trying to deter Neil from the man, so that Morty wouldn’t be lonely this summer, so he could get up to the usual shenanigans he and Rick got up to. It was a selfish but undeniable intent, and it made Morty think deeply beyond his reasoning.He continued to stare at the two of them bonding. His eyes would not be drawn elsewhere. Rick then departed from Neil’s attention and left, and Morty tensed as he saw Rick making his way over to him.‘’Hey, Morty.’’ Rick greeted him casually, as he usually did. Morty’s gaze directed to Rick’s expression; did he seem happier to see him than he was to see Neil? Morty thought he could see that little bit of excitement he’d witnessed when the other was chatting with Neil disappear from the man’s expression when he saw Morty, and it made Morty feel a mixture of strong sadness and jealousy.‘’How was it?’’ Morty asked, a salty tone to his voice. His eyes glared at Rick, and he refused to show how badly he was shaking. ‘’H-how does it feel to finally be hanging out with someone else, who-who won’t be a burden to you because of their stupidity?’’ He spat the last words out as if they were sour-tasting on his tongue, and Rick’s expression changed from neutral to taken aback.‘’Jeez, Morty, I was just-just hanging out with someone else, sheesh,’’ He muttered after a while, although instinctively he unscrewed his flask lid and took a swig to relax him. ‘’Y-y-you’re acting like a possessive girlfriend.’’ Rick awkwardly smiled at Morty, hoping his humor would lighten things up, and Morty abruptly changed from angrily glaring to looking apologetic, upset, even. ‘’I-I-’’ Morty started, but he paused, knowing his stuttering would get out of hand. Rick chuckled and moved forwards to ruffle Morty’s hair playfully. ‘’It’s fine, Morty.’’ Rick said, and Morty felt his stomach become warm, his cheeks burning at the touch of Rick. A giddy sensation made Morty smile at the man, although he didn’t know why. Not even- Well, science could probably explain it, but not any science he knew of. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The sun shone in the midday sky, leaving Kenny sweating and nervous in his parka. What he had heard and partly saw just a few minutes ago had left him confused and slightly scared. He sat outside the counselor’s cabin, contemplating how he would explain to one of the adults how he saw Max and Stan having sex.Kenny sighed as he pushed his hood off of his sweaty face, taking a breath of fresh air, the slight wind blowing on his face and seldom relaxing him. He went over what he had seen in his brain. He had decided that instead of messing around with the other campers during free time, he would go back to his tent and relax.But as Kenny approached the tent, he heard something about lube. And only a few moments later, he heard moaning, and cursing, and he was gravely uncomfortable, as one would be in this situation.After about two minutes, he heard Max’s voice, loud and clear, moan one of the counselor’s names; David. How would he be able to explain that to a counselor? Max would probably hate him if he found out. Maybe I just shouldn’t say anything, he thought, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening behind him.Turning around, Kenny spotted a familiar ginger counselor. The famous “David” he’d heard about. He stood up and blinked, blushing, as he realized he didn’t have his hood on. “What are you doing here, Kenny? You should be playing with your new camp friends!” He smiled, sweetly, and Kenny awkwardly shifted.“Um, David, I think I saw Stan and Max doing something they weren’t supposed to. To this, David’s eyebrow raised. “Oh? What were they doing?” He asked. Kenny lowered his eyes to the ground, “they were having sex.” A surprised look appeared on David’s face. “Huh?”“I was going back to me and Max’s tent, and I.. Heard them. And I peeked in and they were fucking,” Kenny said, “and I think I heard Max say your name.”David felt as if his face was on fire. He knew he was blushing, and he tried not to imagine the scenario in his mind. “O-Oh,” He stuttered, not sure what to say. Max said his name. Max moaned said his name during sex. He tried to stop his racing mind by shaking his head, only partly succeeding. “Uh- I’ll, uh, take care of it, okay?” He said, quietly, “just go, uh, hang out with the others, alright?” Kenny stared at David as he watched him wring his hands. He blinked and nodded, throwing his hoodie up and slowly walking out of David’s sight.As soon as Kenny had turned a corner, he heard the door to the counselor’s cabin slam shut. Is he..? Kenny thought, as he walked towards a window on the side of the cabin, getting on his tiptoes and peering in. He saw David go into his own room, quickly, hands gripping his hair, a panicked look on his face. And Kenny noticed the boner in his pants. His eyes widened at the sight, and as soon as David took his hands out of his hair to undo his belt, Kenny dashed away.Kenny quickly made his way towards the camp, and he noticed a familiar counselor with wild, pale blue hair. Rick.Rick had been spending with time with Neil for the past few days, discussing science and whatnot. Rick had a respect for the boy, which was hard for him to say about most, but the kid had high intelligence that he valued in their time spent together. Although he did talk to Morty once or twice, it was rare now, and sometimes he’d see Morty sitting alone from afar, watching him and Neil talk with a bitter expression on his face. Morty had been craving his attention even more lately, too, but Rick prefered not to look into it that much. Sometimes Morty would try to hang out with Summer and her new group of friends, Erid and Nikki, who the outgoing girl would often speak to, but it never worked out and always ended up in the boy walking off to go sit alone. Even two of the new kids, Cartman and Kyle, had separately tried to befriend him, seemingly due to them not hanging out with one another anymore, but it didn’t really fit right. Plus, the two of them had tried to befriend everyone in the camp, but it failed miserably. Rick couldn’t see why them attempting to befriend Morty would turn out any different.The sun soon came down and Rick found himself becoming bored. Even hanging out with Neil wouldn’t stop him from seeking constant adventure. He glanced at Morty, who he noticed had progressively turned from being salty to upset. A small spark of sympathy threatened to push through Rick’s hard layer of uncaringness, and in the end it gave way. ‘’I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, Neil.’’ Rick said, turning to the other, who was deeply invested in the makings of a small yet powerful device. Neil looked up, a disappointed expression visible among the features of his face.‘’Bye, Rick.’’ Neil replied, regardless of whether he was reluctant to let Rick go. Rick waved as he left, his footsteps taking him to where Morty sat, staring without meaning at the ground below him. As Morty heard Rick’s footsteps and the crunch of pebbles and sticks beneath the man’s feet, however, he sparked up, looking enthusiastically up at Rick. He hated seeing Morty still so joyed to see him, even when he abandoned him for hours to go hang out with Neil, and only ever speaking to him when the sun was going down and everyone was getting ready to go get dinner anyways. ‘’Hey, Morty.’’ Rick started, bending down to face the kid. ‘’YoOUGu wanna-wanna hang out tomorrow?’’ Morty looked joyful, piping up at Rick’s invitation. ‘’J-just us two?’’‘’-With Neil,’’ Rick correct, shifting his eyes elsewhere and then back at Morty. Morty’s enthusiasm died down at the mention of Neil.‘’..Oh.’’ Morty said bluntly. No emotion was in his tone whatsoever - not a trace of sadness, or anger even, just a blatant ‘’oh’’. Rick was surprised when Morty added, rather angrily in contrast to his last comment, ‘’Neil. Fucking Neil. O-of course-’’‘’Look, Morty, hate to kill the mood, but-’’‘’I just want to hang out with you, Rick,’’ Morty cut him off, softly, ‘’W-what happened to Rick and Morty, one hundred years?’’Surprisingly, Rick looked genuinely saddened at this, and put his hand on Morty’s shoulder. ‘’I get you’re upset, but Neil’s great, y-you should get to know him more.’’ Morty didn’t reply, and huddled up, sniffling. Rick narrowed his eyes, unsure of what to say, and, in the end, instead of consulting Morty before he burst into hysteric tears, he got up and left. He glanced back at Morty, who was now crying, and fuck, he felt horrible. A heavy feeling of guilt weighed down on him, not only to see someone he really truly cared about crying and to know that he had just left them without a word, but because when he looked back at Morty, he felt a new kind of feeling towards the kid. It was something that sparked from Morty being so loyal, so enthusiastic to see Rick even after he neglected Morty to talk to Neil, and Rick never had that kind of trust and patience put into him.It wasn’t morally right, but Rick was in love with him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- As the day came to an end, all campers were to report to their tents for bedtime. A few minutes ago, everyone had climbed into their shared beds. Everyone seemed tired out, so only few complained.Max had almost forgotten what had happened earlier that day after he had woken up from his nap, still tired. His mind was blank. He blinked tiredly as he felt a cold chill on his body. He shivered and noticed he wasn’t wearing anything but underwear; and it hit him all at once.Max had sex with Stan. That’s all, it wasn’t such a big deal, right? It was just them experimenting. Nothing gay about it! He slapped his palm to his head. He looked around the darkened tent for his hoodie, coming up with everything but. He sighed as he pulled on his pants, as well as the yellow shirt that everyone in camp is practically forced to wear.The black haired boy crawled back into the bed, finding himself able to drift off quite easily, until he heard his name being whispered. He mumbled in response. Seconds later, he heard his name again, and his eyes flickered open, to reveal that David was in the tent, tugging on his arm. Instead of his regular getup, he wore a hoodie.“What the fuck do you want?” Max whispered, taking note that Kenny was behind him. “Get your shoes on,” David whispered, a small smile on his face, but then again-- when wasn’t a smile on his face? So, Max did put his shoes on, and he watched as David waved at him and then started to walk off. He took this as a sign to follow the counselor.They hiked through wooded areas. The boy was very tired, and didn’t feel like hiking upwards in areas that scratched his knees and hurt his hands. Max almost lost David a couple of times, until he found himself on the top of a small cliff, with a small clearing of trees. David sat on the edge of it, ushering Max over. The boy reluctantly followed, as he realized he was alone with David, face flushing.The smaller boy sat down next to David, a little ways apart, shivering. He rubbed his arms as he stared down at the woods that seemed so far away now. He looked down at what seemed so desolate, the quiet, empty forest, so full of life but also so devoid of it. He heard animals, and the buzzing of insects and the crickets chirping, and then David’s sweet, quiet laugh.Max looked up to the counselor’s face, seeing as he was so focused on the scene of the mountains and wilderness below him as well. He saw David’s face, illuminated by moonlight, eyes practically twinkling with delight. He felt his stomach twist at noticing David’s cheeks were darker- he was blushing. When David looked over at Max, when their eyes met; he felt as if a firework had exploded inside of his stomach. He gasped and looked away, focusing on something else, like how cold he was. He felt his teeth start to chatter. Max jumped when he felt David’s warm hand on his shoulder, and he scooted closer to David, leaning into his side and feeling the man’s warmth.“I still hate you, you know,” Max whispered, trying not to let his voice crack. David chuckled and he felt the older man’s eyes on him. Max looked upward at the stars that complemented the moon and the dark clouds that floated overhead. All of them seemed so bright.“You.. And Stan,” David whispers, and at that, Max felt his entire face heat up and he’s burning and he wants to run away- but the way David’s arm feels around him makes him stay where he is. “What about us?” Max replied. “Kenny told me.. That you, uh..” David paused, and he lifted a hand to his cheek, which was very hot. He let out a loud sigh into the cold air, “said.. My name when you two were..”Max’s eyes widened and he realized; oh shit, he actually did do that. His heart beat fast in his chest, and it was so loud, he was certain David would be able to hear it. “K-Kenny told you that?” He stuttered. He fucking stuttered! Why did he stutter?“You.. Uh,” David tried to find a way not to sound like a total creep, but he just couldn’t, so he fell silent. Max and him sat like that for about a minute; silent, nervous, too afraid to say anything. David tried to continue, “You shouldn’t be having sex with Stan.” He said, almost choking on his own words.“Oh yeah? Who’s to say I can’t, camp man?” Max joked, still nervous, trying to relieve tension. “I do,” David whispered, blinking. Max felt his breath catch in his throat, and he gulped. They sat for a little while, in silence, again. Neither of them knew what to say. Max was embarrassed and unsure, and David was contemplating. Max didn’t realize David had stood up until he felt the man tap his shoulder.Max looked up and grabbed David’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled up, and he felt the cold air on his arms again, shivering once more. David took note of this, and he sighed and started to take off his hoodie. He pushed it towards Max, “here, wear this.” Max felt as if his heart was going to explode at this point. He nodded, “thanks.”As they made their way back to camp, neither of them spoke. Max was deep in thought, anyways. He walked alongside David as they made their way down the path towards the tents. He hadn’t noticed David had turned another way until he found himself alone, standing outside his tent, clutching David’s hoodie.The boy crawled into bed after kicking off his shoes, eyes slightly widened. What the hell just happened? He hugged the hoodie a little tighter; closer to him. He meant to breathe in through his nose with no other intentions, but he took in David’s smell, blushing and looking downward at the hoodie. Smelled like pine needles, axe body spray, and sweat. Like David. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Kyle woke up the next morning feeling like he could kill a man. He had barely slept that night, not only because Eric Cartman, the one who he swore he’d stay away from shared a tent and bed with him, but also because of how unlikeable he felt.All day yesterday he had tried to make different friends. All of his other friends had abandoned him, and it felt real shitty. Kyle pushed himself up and hastily put on his clothes, not caring if he woke the sleeping fatass that he shared a tent with. The sun wasn’t as bright it was for the past two days, and Kyle was thankful for that. Why he had still decided to wear his winter clothes to a fucking summer camp was beyond him. It was really an idiotic decision on his part.The ginger stomped into the Mess Hall with no intention to talk to anyone; though he knew no one would talk to him anyway. Out of his entire friend group, he would have thought it would be him to make friends easiest.Plastic clacked against the wooden table as Kyle angrily sat down. Almost everyone at the table gave him disapproving stares, as it was early in the morning and everyone was groggy. He sighed and stared down at what was on his plate; a stale jelly donut, milk in a carton, and cereal in a tiny, plastic bowl, concealed with even more plastic on top. Nothing he wanted to eat.Kyle looked up from his tray to see Cartman waddling in. He frowned and adjusted his hat, returning his eyes to his tray of food. A few seconds later, he felt the table shift. Must be the fatass sitting down.The whole time he sat down, Kyle ate in silence, trying to avoid making eye contact with Cartman. He glanced up at Stan, who was talking to Kenny instead of Max today. Instead, Max was staring off at the counselor’s table. He let out a sigh and stood up to dump his tray into the trash can.Minutes passed, and Kyle soon heard the announcement that the campers were supposed to do something that had to do with theatre. He watched as David, Gwen and Rick left, the campers following behind them. Kyle stood up and started towards the door, but he was stopped by someone grabbing his arm.Turning around, he found the person was Cartman. Kyle glared at the boy and ripped his arm away from him. “What the fuck do you want, asshole?” He said, quickly.“Kahl..” Cartman began, “I don’t know how to put this, but.. You’re my only friend.” He said, looking down at the ground. “Like, no one else wants to hang out with me. And I’m not even sure you want to either-”“I don’t,” Kyle interrupted, trying to walk off, before Cartman ran up in front of him, stopping him. “You’re all I have, Kahl. Please?” Cartman pouted, puffing out his lower lip. Kyle rolled his eyes and pushed Cartman away. “Fine, fatass. I’ll be your friend, or whatever,” He sighed and started walking towards where he saw the other campers going. “Just come on.” And so, Cartman followed.After a while of stupid theatre activities, Cartman and Kyle sat down outside, sitting close to each other, yet saying nothing. Kyle had agreed to be his friend again, but it hadn’t broken the awkwardness between the two of them.‘’So, uhh..’’ Cartman started, ‘’You failed to make new friends?’’‘’Yeah.’’ Kyle admitted, quietly out of shame, and braced himself to hear a retort back from Cartman. Cartman started, chuckling and saying ‘’HA! Of course, you stupid j-’’, but must have realized how close he was to being ditched again.‘’They seem like they’re having fun.’’ Kyle pointed out, watching as kids laughed and ran around, alluding mostly to Stan, Kenny and Max, who seemed to be discussing something. Max, however, was thinking of something else, rarely joining in on the conversation, mind elsewhere. ‘’Let’s do something fun.’’‘’That sounded gay, Kahl,’’ Cartman said, and Kyle glared at him, telling Cartman ‘’shut up, fatass.’’ Although they were still insulting each other, it was now slightly friendlier, taking on a little bit of a playful tone. Maybe it was because, after all the failed attempts to make friends, they were just glad for each other’s company. ‘’I’m actually really bored.’’ Kyle sighed, and Cartman got up, looking around for something to do.‘’Let’s go there,’’ Cartman said, and he pointed to a dark spot in the forest surrounding the camp, where trees and bush overgrew. Kyle looked reluctant. ‘’No.’’ He said, surprisingly brusque. ‘’Come on, Kahl! You’re scared,’’ Cartman teased, and Kyle whined before getting up finally and dusting himself off. ‘’Fine,’’ Kyle agreed, and, to Cartman’s surprise, took the lead, gingerly making his way into the forest. They both looked back, making sure no one saw them, as a camp counsellor could easily be told to go return them back to the boring area of camp.They then started to run through the woods, Cartman tripping over a few times, and they stopped briefly to catch a breath, realizing they were now in a darker area. ‘’Whoa! You can barely see anything.’’ Kyle exclaimed, and his voice echoed softly through the trees. Everything was overgrown, and there were barely any paths to run freely across. All the trees towered tall, the leaves spreading out so that the sky was almost completely hidden. Cartman sat down against a thick trunk, and Kyle seated himself next to him. ‘’This is awesome,’’ Kyle said quietly. ‘’You know, you’re not that bad, Kahl,’’ Cartman admitted, ‘’Sometimes you can actually be kind of cool.’’‘’Thanks, Cartman,’’ Kyle replied. ‘’You’re pretty cool too.’’‘’Wow, this is sort of gay. You’re gay, Kahl.’’‘’You’re gay!’’They both, however, smiled at each other briefly, before going quiet again. They’d return back to camp soon, but for now, they’d enjoy their time here.
11316102	The fact that fate is a	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Jasper Hale, Bella Swan, Alice Cullen, Edward Cullen", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by AxZi (GodAnanta)", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-27T00:00:00", "words": "3,687", "Additional Tags": "Everyone is selfish, But that's okay :), No Edward or Alice bashing, romance maybe, Warning: Jasper is a little bitch", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jasper Hale/Bella Swan, Jasper Hale & Alice Cullen, Bella Swan & Edward Cullen", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Outside, after the door slammed, Bella still couldn’t break down. No, not while she was still in Jasper’s territory. Her skin breaking out in goosebumps, she hurried towards her car, climbing in and immediately putting on the engine. While it purred underneath her, she pulled it out of the lot and started for home.Not suitable, he’d said? She felt the chill raise all the hairs on her neck, like the grim reaper was already behind her. The Volturi’s words had been final: she’d get killed or changed. And now she was hearing that she’d be getting killed—and why? Because Jasper didn’t feel like she was suitable. Because Rosaline had decided that words said in the middle of crystallized fear spoke for her true self. And then Edward said himself that he’d have to die for this decision, but again, Carlisle and the rest didn’t care. Why? They could say “right can’t right a wrong” as much as she wanted, but the Cullens weren’t the ones who’d just been given death sentences. That was her and Edward.She felt her teeth clatter together with dread. She wished she’d never met the Cullens. She wished she hadn’t grown so affectionate towards Edward so soon. That she hadn’t grown to love him, a feeling she’d never experienced before. That she’d never let it blossom in her chest. But she had, and now she was being punished for it. Only because she’d fallen in love with him, and it’d made Edward foolish. She was being punished even though she hadn’t been the one to decide anything that had led to these events. That Edward’s family, not her, she hadn’t been there for god’s sake, had let happen. And yet she’d be the one who’d lose her life from this. They’d basically left her for dead with this decision. And they knew it. They’d basically killed her; she just wasn’t dead yet.But the part that’d hurt her the worst was Edward. She understood he hadn’t wanted her to become a vampire. She understood why now, too. Had once thought that becoming a vampire, if she was with him, if he continued making her feel things she’d never felt, it’d be alright. With the family around him, her best friend Alice, the wise elders Carlisle and Esme, the big brother Emmet, she’d be fine. Her mother had always treated her like a crutch, which she’d replaced so easily with Phil. She and Charlie were in essence strangers living in the same house. Just roommates. And she knew that he had his friends from the reserve to support him if she died.She’d kept this in equation when she’d been begging Edward to just turn her already, so she could break away from the responsibilities that had been circling her throat like a chain. So she could leave her family who’d never made her feel welcome. Whom she’d never felt warmth for. The first one to teach her she could love herself too, that she could feel warmth as well, had been him. And him not giving her a commitment to such an extent, and with how he and his family were nomads, couldn’t stay in Forks for all that long...she’d known it was now or never. She hadn’t wanted to feel like a barren land anymore.And maybe that was why Jasper had thought her unsuitable. Maybe her love for the family, her wish to be a vampire, had been a bit self serving. It wasn’t for happiness of Edward or Alice or any of her other surrogate family that she’d decided to become a vampire after all. It had been in every way for herself. And maybe that meant newborn her would be one of the worst, going after blood and death like a glutton, because that would be what her new body wanted. It’d be self serving in the way her whole relationship with Edward was self serving.But she knew that as much as she was doing it for herself, she wasn’t a sensation seeker. Sex and drugs, adrenaline and other kinds of things, that was what a human’s body wanted, after all. Yet rather than giving in to these things, if they were indeed things to give into, she had the self discipline to not care. After all, she’d been living an austere life for all her eighteen years. She hardly thought that’d change, just because she’d finally found the thing which she could pour her heart into. The one thing that made her feel.Except Jasper, a very tactile person for all his empath powers, was a hedonist to such an extent. Self serving, like her. And she thought he’d found this out not completely because of said power, but because like can sniff out like. And for that reason, because he was still the ticking bomb in the family, but he loved Alice and his family, he didn’t want to put them through the mess a newborn like he’d been would put them through. He didn’t realized that for all her foolishness, for all her recklessness and selfishness, she was a different sort than him.But even thinking this was probably why he voted no, her heart felt like a massive hole had taken up occupancy, and found it impossible to forgive him for it. Neither could she Rosalie, but she’d never liked the woman to begin with, so she understood her choice. But the way she’d managed Emmet? Bella shook her head, and clenched her hands tighter around the steering wheel.That’d been an insult towards Emmet, she knew it had been. But she was going to die for that insult, so she also couldn’t forgive him. It just left a foul taste in her mouth that she’d apologised not two second after snapping—that she’d actually felt sorry for what she’d done, while now she could see it hadn’t been Emmet the brother she’d been insulting. It had been a person who’d let her die. So he deserved the hurt for that, and more.She could already feel tears bead from the corners of her eyes, so she stepped on the pedestal and upped her speed. She had to go back home soon so she could force the humiliation of what they’d put her through out of her. She snorted quietly to herself as she took a left. They’d put her through? No, it was far from over yet. After all, she had her inevitable approaching death still to look forwards to. Were putting her through was a more accurate sentence, to be sure.Finally, she drove into her street, parking her car at the front before sliding from the leather seats onto the pavement. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate fully as she stumbled her way to the door and fumbled the key from her pocket. Thank god Charlie wasn’t done with work yet. She turned the key in the door and pulled it open, before quietly shutting it behind her. Bella sniffled and rubbed at the corners of her eyes. Lounge? Or Bedroom? Taking a look around the living room, she decided on her bedroom and took the stairs up three at a time before hopping the last five onto the second floor. She broke down before she’d even passed the threshold of her room.She was going to die! God, Bella was going to die! The people she’d considered her family didn’t even hate her—she was nothing but just another human to her. Someone they could easily set aside as collateral damage if one of them “slipped” and supped her. She shuddered on the carpet, realizing that quite possibly she might’ve become one such slip-up, if her thoughts had spoken to Edward and ridden him of the intrigue that had first attracted him to her.And Edward, sweet sweet Edward, who she’d made so many mistakes with in the course of their relationship, who she’d known was low key suicidal even before he’d tried to off himself—he’d be coming down with her. If they didn’t care enough about Edward, who they were with for years, how could she have stood a chance? It’s just—Alice, from the very start, had said they’d become best friends, as close as sister’s! Carlisle and Esme, quietly supportive, treating her like their daughter—how could they do this so easily without love? Had every single interaction she’d been in with the Cullens—were they all lies? God, Bella was going to die but why did they have to stick a knife in her back before then? Was she so pathetic to them, or did they feel just so nothing, that they couldn’t even give her a peaceful death of ignorance?....Were they just so removed from humanity, that lasting emotions were nothing but flickering embers to them?Bella just lied there on the carpet, letting the despair run through her at this possible truth, at the quiet of those words. They seemed final—as final as Esme’s eviction had been. Was this the reason why Edward had been so sure she shouldn’t become a vampire? It would seem to be. It’d make sense, that he wouldn’t have wanted an eternity with her when he had such toxic people surrounding him, who said they loved you in the same breath as they evicted you from your house and set you up for death.They had done it to Edward too, hadn’t they? And she remembered how they hadn’t been able to prevent him for leaving to the Volturi. Was that something they did deliberately? Bella had wondered how he could’ve possibly become low key suicidal with such a good support base, but what if she’d been wrong about his support base? Everything made sense now in hindsight. The Cullens didn’t care about each other. Just like her family, they were just roommates in the same house. And she’d been that close to becoming one with them.Bella grimaced at the carpet, couldn’t quite smile. It put everything into perspective, yes. She was still going to be killed, though. Bella would’ve taken the Cullen’s over death.Bella picked herself off the floor, brushing her knees from whatever dirt had been on there. She looked around the room at her messy bed, the shelves containing the entirety of her book collection. Could she leave, leaving all of this behind? Bella dipped her chin at herself. Yes—she’d never been a very materialistic girl.If the Volturi would kill her, she’d make them change her instead. An image sprang up to her, crystal clear, of Jasper saying “and what, you’ll come back here to take your revenge?” And she cleared it with a shake of her head and pursed lips. No, she wasn’t going to do that. She was still human, and humans can’t get over those who’ve hurt them so easily. She still had a carved space in her heart for the Cullen’s, and only the rage and fear she felt now allowed her to think badly of them without guilt and second guessing.Though it was all clear to her now, what they did, she knew that given enough time she’d turn it around as her fault somehow, and forgive them.That was the type of person she’d become after experiencing love for the first time. Clearly, becoming a vampire would change that however. And for the first time since she’d met Edward, she’d welcome the re-arrival of the numbness in her brain, that she’d felt before coming across him. The same numb they obviously wanted her to return to already, though without the help of vampire-ness. The Cullen’s were very silly in this way: more evidence of their stark inhumanity.Decision made (and she hoped Alice knew about this, because it might lead to the Cullen’s changing her after all, which while not ideal, was better than having to go backpacking across Europe) Bella sprawled onto her bed and flicked the lights off. When the next morning came and no Alice or Edward or any of the Cullen’s knocking on her door, Bella was surprised to not feel upset. Maybe her emotional fortitude was stronger than she thought, but she did worry it meant her idea of asking the Volturi to change her wouldn’t work. Because otherwise, why would Edward allow her to do it? Especially since he wanted them to be together in death.But she couldn’t be certain as she wasn’t in most things in life, so Bella heaved herself from her covers and started getting prepared for the day. Once done, she checked herself in the mirror, removed her saving from under the sofa where she’d put them for posterity’s sake, and because she’d not expected having to use them when joining the Cullen’s. She’d been so sure of it too that she actually felt pity for old Bella and the dumpster fire their life was turning out to be. Next, she trotted down the stairs, checked the living room (no Charlie) and felt the slight bite of cold disappointment she wouldn’t be able to say farewell to him for what she was planning to be the last time. Bella squared her shoulders and the feeling went away. Lastly, she swept into her car and started the engine. If Alice or Edward wanted to stop her, no would be the ideal time.She gave it a count of five, but them not showing up decided things for her. Without another moment’s pause, Bella pulled out of the driveway and took her first drive on her road trip of hell.She stopped off at the gas station, bowing her head as she fluently hopped out of the car. She slammed the door shut behind her and began the lengthy process of filling the depths of the engine with fuel, a hand on her shoulder--“Yaa! Don’t do that!”Behind her, the man who’d tapped her on the shoulder and scared the daylights out of her, moved his hands up in protest. “So sorry.” His apology sounded faker than fake, but also put her on edge. Goosebumps covering her back, she twisted around and immediately made a disgusted face at seeing who exactly he was.Dense curled blonde hair, which went down to his chin. The tiny hint of stubble in the middle of his chin. Golden eyes which watched her from behind just as gold eyelashes, which made them look non-existent. His regard of her, she could see, was the same as they’d met last. Something haughty in that look, like she wasn’t even good enough to work as an afternoon snack.She immediately looked at him with suspicion, taking a step back as she folded her arms together across her chest. “And what exactly are you doing here?” she asked. His face remained unmoved by the question. “Is there something up with Alice? I can’t imagine any other reason you’d be here.”At this he finally broke his silence, running a hand down the back of his hair. “Something like that. She’s very upset with me for making the numbers reel like that, nevermind the fact that if her visions are so unpredictable that they can change just from something like what I did, it meant her future wasn’t true at all.” His lips sloped downwards instead of side ways, haughty eyes still the same almost like a sad glare.“Since Alice is the only one you care about, it doesn’t surprise me you don’t get why something like that’d hurt Alice,” Bella returned, and stretched her arms behind her back. “She, I think, is the only one in your wretched family who cares.”“No surprise. Edward and Alice were the only people in the family whose opinion you cared about too. Surprisingly, that was only when they reconciled with your own.”A bark of laughter escaped the girl, and she shifted her weight to accommodate for it. He looked at her sternly, until the giggling abated.“Jasper,” she said, finally, when she could actually breathe, “Jasper, haven’t you noticed? Edward and Alice acted exactly the same. I can’t believe you don’t remember the prom fiasco after the entire James incident, or the multitude of other times Alice has told me something would happen in the future to convince me to doing something I don’t like. That included that birthday party which stretched the boundaries of your control.”“It didn’t actually,” the golden eyed boy cut in, dropping his hand from his hair. Despite himself, visions of the many times Alice and Edward had gotten their way, even when it wasn’t in line with what she wanted, lazily formed onto his mind eye. They were in a coffee shop, one of the many Alice had adopted when she’d realized how most people inside them didn’t eat. They had to sip the coffee like the many other people in this shop, but drinking had always been something they’d been able to do. Although, if it wasn’t blood, then they didn’t gain any nutrients from it.“You know that she’s your true other self, not me.” Alice squared her shoulders and took a hold of the sides of her face, a hard look in the eyes which usually glimmered playfully. “We’ve always known this wouldn’t be permanent—you can’t tell me that I didn’t warn you from the very start I’d be nothing but a patch up for what you’ve been through.”He caught her hands in his own, and rubbed his cheek against her knuckles. “you’ve never—never! Been nothing more than a patch up to me. Alice, I’m still in love with you. I don’t think I’ll ever be in love with a spoiled child like her. You know your gift more than anyone. You know how unreliable it can be. Is this honestly truth?”“You didn’t feel hunger the first time you saw her,” the skinny woman predicted. Her eyes softened at seeing the stricken look on his face. He’d never told her that. She leaned backward into the chair, gently pulling away. “Or the time after that, or after that. You didn’t feel hunger at any time. And Jasper—“ here her powdered face sculpted into a grin, “I don’t think you have anything to say, regarding being spoilt. We’ve all got strong personalities in the family. I do, you do, and you’ve never cared before. This is just an excuse.” She dropped her hands, toying with the plush from her seat.“I don’t care for her. Fuck destiny.” He straightened himself up by the elbows, leaning threateningly forwards. “This will not work out the way you want it to, I assure you that. Even if Isabella does leave Edward after she’d been turned because she realizes it’s not him it wants. Or even if she leaves him at the altar. It won’t go the way you want it to go, I won’t allow it.” That promise had pushed him into changing the voting session into what he’d wanted. Giving Emmett a sucker punch of humiliation, even though the man had never let untrue words get to him. Giving Rosalie an injection of protectiveness, just enough to tip the numbers the way he’d wanted them to be. Edward had needed no convincing—in fact, he was thankful for the way he made toys out of their family, thankful that he and not Bella would get their way, because they’d always been in a competition over it. Esme had needed no convincing than Bella’s breakdown, completely ignoring the fact that it’s result was that Bella would die, that she’d struck out in such a way out of survival instincts, which humans had always had more off than they. She’d always hated conflict among the family.“How is that the truth? Wasn’t that the reason you all had to leave?” asked Bella, snapping him out of his introspection.Ah, an opportunity to shatter her impression of them all even more. Perfect. “Of course it wasn’t. I don’t feel any hunger for your blood, that was never the point. When Edward’s first reaction to seeing your blood was becoming territories and when he shot after us like that, it was clear that he couldn’t be around you without putting you in danger. He didn’t protect you—for fuck’s sake, he decided he’d rather want your blood away from us so we couldn’t get it and that’s why he threw you into that glass screen.”In the middle of his rant, her mouth had popped open so she was gaping at him, making her look even more like a child than before. “Don’t get flies in there,” he sneered, and immediately afterwards her pole-axed look turned into an ineffectual glare.“That doesn’t matter,” muttered Bella sullenly. “If he feels for me what I feel for him, it’s okay.”He let out an automatic tsk.“What?” she snapped.“He can’t be around you, it’s too dangerous...but it’s okay because your hearts are connected, are you fucking with me?”“It’s not completely like that,” Bella assured. “But more importantly, before we get side tracked even further,” her voice became clipped, “What are you doing here?”Jasper grew tense—she could now see he hadn’t been before, which surprised her—his face becoming inscrutable.“Despite what the family wants, what Alice wants is different.”There was a hard tick to his mouth, ruthless mirth clear there. “What she wants from me, too, is different. So I’ll get it over with and show her she’s wrong.” “You wanted to become a vampire?”He stepped into her personal space, his voice a mocking croon, “Then let me change you. Right here, right now.”A jolt of solid electricity shot through her stomach, and she stepped back. Though he followed her even as she did, so not even an inch of space had been gained. “Wh..what?” she said, her voice coming out shakily even to herself. He was the reason she was here. His handiwork. “I very much doubt you have any regrets.” She sneered at him.“That wasn’t a question.”Jasper bent down and bit her.
11367708	Yuri in the Sky with	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont, Christophe Giacometti, Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin, Minami Kenjirou, Most of the characters actually", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "Français", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by cerisebio", "chapters": "12/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-01T00:00:00", "words": "42,576", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe, Fantasy, Magic, Quidditch, Romance, Mystery, TW: animal cruelty, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti", "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 }	Couverture à découvrir ici Neuf ans plus tôt Le jour où le shikigami atterrit chez les Katsuki, en plein milieu du dîner familial, ils tombèrent des nues.L'existence de la magie ne les étonna pas outre mesure : au Japon, kami, yokai et autres esprits étaient omniprésents et l'ambiance avait quelque chose de mystérieux qui rendait sa réalité parfaitement crédible.Que leur fils Yuri, sept ans, né d'une famille ordinaire, soit un sorcier n'était pas plus surprenant. Depuis toujours le petit garçon avait quelque chose "en plus" ou "à part" selon les points de vue. Il semblait percevoir des présences invisibles, faire bouger des objets sans les toucher et approcher facilement même les créatures les plus farouches.Non, ce qui surprit Hiroko et Toshiya était l'existence d'une société parallèle et secrète, assez bien organisée pour disposer d'écoles de magie à travers le monde et détecter ses potentiels élèves jusqu'au coeur de la petite ville tranquille d'Hasetsu.La missive aurait pu passer pour un ordinaire morceau de papier en forme de bonhomme s'il n'était animé d'une vie propre et n'avait délivré son message d'une voix d'outre-tombe, fièrement dressé sur la table basse.- Katsuki Yuri, avait proclamé le shikigami devant toute la famille éberluée, vous êtes cordialement invité à rejoindre l'académie de magie Mahoutokoro, afin d'y apprendre à contrôler et développer vos capacités de sorcier.L'esprit avait alors énuméré les conditions d'étude, de ramassage scolaire jusqu'à ce qu'il soit en âge d'entrer en pension (à partir de onze ans précisa le bonhomme de papier) et autres éléments d'ordre pratique, avant d'insister sur le code international du secret magique. La famille de Yuri n'était pas autorisée à parler de l'existence des sorciers en-dehors de son cercle et de la communauté magique. Une série d'article de lois leur fut énuméré avec les sanctions qui les accompagnaient - soumission au sortilège Oubliettes notamment, un terme dont ils purent juste deviner le sens.- Le professeur Okukawa Minako sera le tuteur de monsieur Katsuki et se présentera chez lui dans deux jours, conclut le shikigami avant de se désintégrer.Un silence de plomb retomba sur la famille Katsuki dont les regards convergeaient à l'endroit où le papier enchanté s'était tenu auparavant. Un morceau de tofu, resté suspendu entre les baguettes de Mari, treize ans, tout au long du message, chuta soudain et atterrit dans son bol de soupe. Le "ploc" qui en résulta sembla sortir Yuri de sa transe. - Je vais devenir un sorcier ?! s'exclama-t-il alors, avec un sourire radieux et incrédule à la fois. * Jour présent - Yuuuriii !Une tornade enflammée lui tomba dessus, faillit projeter ses lunettes au sol, mais ne manqua pas de lui couper la respiration au passage. Le visage enfoui dans l'abondance de tissu des manches orange, seuls les cheveux noirs de Yuri dépassaient. Il tenta sans succès de se libérer de l'étreinte un peu trop énergique.- Phichit. J'étouffe.- Ah pardon !Le Thaïlandais s'écarta, juste assez pour dévisager son meilleur ami avec un sourire radieux et un regard noir en amande pétillant de bonne humeur.- C'est parce qu'on ne s'est pas vu depuis une éternité, s'excusa-t-il.- Deux semaines.- Pareil. Surtout que tu n'invoques jamais Magiscroll.Yuri leva les yeux au ciel. Il détestait les réseaux sociaux, que ce soit ceux des sorciers ou des non-maj. D'ailleurs, alors que la plupart des jeunes de seize ans recherchaient la compagnie de leurs pairs, le Japonais se satisfaisait de sa solitude. Tout le contraire de Phichit, d'un an son cadet, qui semblait connaître tout le monde et être toujours au courant du moindre potin.Celui-ci le détailla de la tête aux pieds, les sourcils froncés.- Toi, tu as passé tes vacances à étudier.- Comment tu as deviné ?- Ton haori est devenu plus foncé.La veste rouge de l'uniforme magique de Yuri était en effet passée progressivement du pastel au carmin au cours des semaines précédentes, indiquant ainsi l'approfondissement de son savoir. À la moitié de son avant-dernière année d'études à Mahoutokoro, la teinte n'avait rien d'inhabituel, mais Phichit pensait clairement que Yuri ne s'amusait pas assez pour son âge.Ce dernier se demandait souvent ce qui était passé par la tête du populaire adolescent, issu d'une longue lignée de sorciers, fils du ministre de la magie thaïlandaise, pour qu'il décide de devenir ami avec lui, né parmi les non-maj, un élève parmi les autres. Mais le jour où il lui était tombé dessus - décidément une habitude - avec ses cheveux noirs en bataille et son sourire d'ange, Yuri avait décidé que quelqu'un qui se baladait en permanence avec trois hamsters dans les replis de son uniforme ne pouvait pas avoir mauvais fond. En effet, si la compagnie de ses semblables n'était pas une évidence, celle des animaux et créatures magiques lui était en revanche naturelle. Il prenait tout particulièrement soin de son familier, aussi insignifiants que soit son apparence et ses pouvoirs.Phichit agita la main comme pour chasser un insecte agaçant, ce qui fit froufrouter le tissu de son uniforme et dérangea deux de ses hamsters endormis sur son épaule. L'un grimpa sur sa tête, l'autre descendit le long d'un pan du haori pour s'installer dans la ceinture du hakama noir.- Peu importe, reprit-il avec la même énergie débordante, le reste de l'année va être excitant !- Ah ? Pourquoi ?- Je peux pas encore t'en parler, secret diplomatique, chuchota-t-il avec un air de conspirateur, mais tu devrais bientôt savoir.Il passa un bras autour des épaules de son meilleur ami tandis qu'ils se dirigeaient vers l'académie pour y commencer un nouveau trimestre. Les jardins luxuriants étaient aménagés en allées étroites dans lesquelles il était facile de se perdre. Le couvert végétal, mélange de bambouseraie, fougères arborescentes et fleurs odorantes, rendait le climat tropical de l'île de Minamiiwo supportable. En plus des sorts d'adaptation à la température de leur uniforme.- Pourquoi tu me nargues si tu ne peux pas en parler ? répondit Yuri mi-agacé mi-amusé - son compagnon avait souvent cet effet contradictoire. Je devrais peut-être lire l'information à la source.Phichit éclata de rire à cette menace en l'air : il savait Yuri bien trop respectueux pour pénétrer son esprit sans son accord. Ou en dehors des heures de cours.- Tu es incapable de passer mes défenses.Yuri grimaça à ce rappel. Bien que plus jeune, son meilleur ami était en effet plus doué que lui en dokushinjutsu, l'équivalent des disciplines occidentales de légilimancie et occlumancie.Leurs pas les menèrent au bout de l'allée. Au détour de bambous gigantesques, ils parvinrent à l'orée d'une clairière, passèrent sous un torii couvert de mousse, à l'aspect négligé.Le portail était destiné à tromper l'œil d'un improbable visiteur non-maj égaré sur l'île. En le franchissant, la pierre grise usée devint jade blanc resplendissant, de la même matière que le palais de Mahoutokoro qui apparut alors.Chaque fois que Yuri posait les yeux dessus, il ne pouvait s'empêcher de le comparer au château d'Himeji, tant dans la forme des toits, la taille imposante et la couleur ivoire. Les similitudes s'arrêtaient cependant là : sous les rayons ardents du soleil, la matière précieuse semblait briller de sa propre lumière, sculptée de nombreuses créatures magiques japonaises. Celles-ci décidaient parfois de changer d'emplacement, bousculant leurs voisines au passage, modifiant l'aspect du palais en permanence. Le sceau de l'académie représentant un dragon oriental était le seul assez discipliné pour rester en place au-dessus du seuil, et se retrouvait sous forme de broderie blanche sur les uniformes.Une assemblée multicolore de sept à dix-sept ans convergeait vers l'entrée. L'uniforme de Mahoutokoro grandissait avec son porteur et changeait de teinte à mesure de l'approfondissement des connaissances de l'élève, passant par toutes les palettes de l'arc-en-ciel avant de tourner à l'argent ou à l'or pour les plus méritants. Les plus jeunes commençaient avec un rose rappelant les pétales de sakura, arbre très apprécié au Japon. Yuri avait eu la chance d'être choisi par une baguette de ce bois lorsque le professeur Minako Okukawa l'avait accompagné dans ses premiers pas de sorcier.Phichit salua bruyamment la moitié des personnes croisées, tandis que Yuri se contentait d'un hochement de tête. Jusqu'à ce que le second mini-typhon de Mahoutokoro s'abatte sur lui.- Yuri-senpai !Aujourd'hui ses cheveux étaient jaunes, assortis à son haori, avec une mèche rouge vif. Minami prenait un malin plaisir à les modifier régulièrement - de préférence pour des teintes flashy -, le sortilège Colovaria étant sans conteste celui qu'il maîtrisait le mieux. S'il avait montré autant d'enthousiasme à étudier les autres, il aurait pu nettement améliorer ses résultats scolaires.Les deux batteurs de l'équipe de quidditch avaient décidément des personnalités hautes en couleur, songea Yuri en jetant un coup d'œil à Phichit et Minami déjà en pleine discussion sportive animée.Le trio passa entre la paire de komainu qui gardait l'entrée de l'école de magie : les lions de jade faisaient les cent pas de part et d'autres du flot de jeunes sorciers, décidés à repousser toute intrusion. L'un, bouche ouverte, prononçait le son "a" ; l'autre, bouche fermée, la syllabe "um". Leur chant formait ainsi en permanence un "aum" aux pouvoirs protecteurs.Mahoutokoro n'avait pourtant jamais fait l'objet de visite indésirable, tout au plus un non-maj s'était-il parfois échoué sur la côte déchirée de l'île de Minamiiwo. Celle-ci ne valait pas la peine de s'y attarder aux yeux de la communauté non magique : moins de quatre kilomètres carrés d'un cône d'origine volcanique aux flancs abrupts sur la ceinture de feu du Pacifique, battu par des vents inhospitaliers et recouvert d'une jungle indomptable. C'était précisément parce que le lieu ne possédait aucun attrait que les sorciers y avaient établi l'académie, protégeant ainsi leurs jeunes apprentis.- On se voit à l'entraînement tout à l'heure ! les salua Minami en trottinant vers une aile différente du palais. Yuri referma la main sur son balai, les doigts parcourus de picotements d'excitation. S'il aimait sincèrement sa famille, Mahoutokoro lui manquait à chaque vacances, et particulièrement les séances de quidditch. Il pouvait toujours invoquer son familier ou s'exercer à quelques sortilèges autorisés aux mineurs dans le secret de sa chambre, mais voler sur un balai au-dessus de la ville d'Hasetsu était certain d'attirer l'attention de ses habitants. La journée se prêtait à un entraînement : le ciel était dégagé, la mer et le vent calmes. D'un coup de pied, il décolla, vola quelques minutes sans réfléchir, juste pour le plaisir de la sensation, avant d'être rappelé à l'ordre par le capitaine de l'équipe.- Yuri, un peu d'attention, je vais libérer les cognards, le prévint Yuuko. Minami, Phichit tenez-vous prêts à intervenir, mais nous allons nous exercer à les éviter.Si tous les élèves de Mahoutokoro jouaient au quidditch, seule une poignée d'entre eux le pratiquait à un niveau compétitif. La présence de Yuuko parmi eux avait pesé dans la décision de Yuri de rejoindre l'équipe officielle. Première amie à Mahoutokoro, premier béguin et premier coeur brisé lorsqu'elle était sortie avec Takeshi, la jeune fille était une poursuiveuse hors-pair. Douce mais ferme, elle menait son rôle de capitaine avec aisance et naturel.L'équipe s'échauffa en prenant soin d'éviter les hargneuses balles enchantées, de temps en temps détournées par les batteurs, avant de passer aux choses sérieuses en intégrant le souafle et le vif d'or.Ce dernier était la cible exclusive de Yuri et son remplaçant attrapeur. La minuscule balle ailée vola vers les falaises de l'île, puis plongea soudain vers les vagues. À la verticale, Yuri se pencha sur son balai, filant à sa poursuite.- Yuri, redresse ! hurla Takeshi par-dessus le bruit de la houle.L'océan approchait dangereusement vite. Le vif d'or tourna au dernier moment. Yuri, qui avait anticipé le mouvement, l'intercepta avant qu'il ne puisse repartir vers le ciel.- Classe Yuri ! approuva Phichit en prenant une photo avec l'appareil autour de son cou.- Phichit, cognard en approche.- Oups !Le Thaïlandais eu juste le temps de lever sa batte. La balle repartit dans une direction aléatoire, manquant de peu un des joueurs qui abreuva le batteur distrait d'invectives. Il y répondit d'un sourire d'ange et d'un "désolé" joyeux.Le reste de la séance se passa sans incident majeur et lorsqu'ils atterrirent le professeur Anko en charge du club les attendait. Au loin, sa silhouette aurait pu passer pour celle d'un humain ordinaire, mais de près son bec et ses ailes noires de corbeau trahissaient sa nature de yokai.- La principale a une annonce à faire, leur indiqua le karasu-tengu, irrité par leur supposé retard. Cela vous concerne au premier plan, alors ne traînez pas.Lié par un contrat magique avec l'académie, Anko y enseignait le vol depuis des siècles. Il avait donc tout naturellement pris en charge les cours et l'équipe de quidditch lorsque ce sport avait été introduit par des Britanniques perdus dans la région. Son strict régime d'entraînement n'était probablement pas étranger à l'actuelle réputation internationale des joueurs japonais.Sans attendre de réponse - ses élèves étaient bien trop disciplinés pour désobéir - il s'envola vers le palais.- Oui ! s'exclama Phichit sous le regard médusé de ses coéquipiers. Ça doit être ce dont je te parlais ce matin Yuri !Ils rangèrent les balais rapidement avant de se diriger à leur tour vers la salle commune de Mahoutokoro.- C'est quoi cette annonce ? demanda Minami en sautillant à côté de Phichit.- Tu verras.- Mais...- Phichit, intervint Yuri, ça peut pas attendre ce que tu fais ?La baguette dans une main, l'appareil photo dans l'autre, tout en marchant le Thaïlandais était en train d'extraire un ruban lumineux de ce dernier. Il farfouilla dans son sac en bandoulière où se trouvait son uniforme, finit par abandonner en pointant sa baguette sur son bazar.- Accio tabula.Un carré de cuir à première vue ordinaire sauta dans sa main.- Ta capacité à gérer deux sorts à la fois est hallucinante, ironisa Yuri. Si seulement tu l'utilisais pour quelque chose de plus utile que Magiscroll.- C'est hyper utile, protesta son meilleur ami, tu n'en vois juste pas l'intérêt.- Carrément pas.Phichit l'ignora, tapota le bout de sa baguette sur le cuir en prononçant Transfero. Il fit encore quelques manipulations qui firent apparaître la photo animée de Yuri attrapant le vif d'or avec une légende et des commentaires. À présent, tous les sorciers utilisant le réseau social avaient accès à cet instant. L'idée ne réjouissait pas spécialement Yuri, mais il avait appris à choisir ses batailles avec son meilleur ami.Leur groupe débarqua dans la salle commune déjà pleine. Ils retirèrent leurs chaussures avant de rejoindre leurs camarades agenouillés sur le tatami face aux professeurs dans leur tenue noire - les seuls à porter des haori de cette couleur. Parmi eux, plusieurs yokai, liés comme Anko à Mahoutokoro depuis des temps immémoriaux. Plus personne ne savait à présent comment ou pourquoi ces créatures surnaturelles avaient accepté de transmettre leurs savoirs aux sorciers humains, pas même celles-ci qui avaient oublié - ou feignaient l'amnésie.- Bien, commença la directrice Minako Okukawa en se levant, maintenant que nous sommes tous réunis, j'ai une annonce importante à faire.Elle parcourut l'assemblée des yeux, s'arrêta sur l'équipe de quidditch.- Dans un but de rapprochement international, les ministères de la magie du monde entier ont décidé d'organiser un tournoi de quidditch inter-écoles. Mahoutokoro a eu l'honneur d'être choisi comme hôte et recevra donc des élèves des autres établissements magiques pour le semestre à venir.Un brouhaha excité parcourut l'assemblée ; pour une fois les enseignants ne cherchèrent pas à discipliner les enfants et adolescents enthousiastes.- Tu comprends Yuri ? chuchota Phichit à son oreille tandis qu'il essayait justement d'assimiler l'information. L'équipe de Durmstrang va venir ici.Cela semblait surréaliste : pendant plusieurs mois, il aurait l'occasion de côtoyer son idole. Victor Nikiforov. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Quatre ans plus tôt Sous la lune qui se réfléchissait dans l'étang couvert de lotus, les professeurs avaient rassemblé les élèves pensionnaires à l'académie de Mahoutokoro dans les jardins. Collés les uns aux autres en grappes arc-en-ciel, à genoux sur des tatamis, ces derniers fixaient le centre de l'étendue de gravier : les plus âgés avec anticipation, les plus jeunes avec curiosité.À douze ans, Yuri assistait à ce spectacle pour la seconde année, mais c'était une première pour Phichit qui trépignait à sa droite.- Qu'est-ce qu'on attend Yuri ? lui demanda-t-il en tirant sur la manche vert-jaune de ce dernier.Le Thaïlandais était l'un des rares étudiants étrangers de l'école de magie japonaise. Jusqu'ici instruit en famille, il avait voulu rejoindre une équipe de quidditch de haut niveau dans le but de devenir professionnel. Yuri imaginait sans peine le petit garçon tanner son père pendant des mois jusqu'à ce que le ministre de la magie thaïlandais fasse jouer ses relations internationales pour lui obtenir une place au Japon.- Pourquoi tu n'es pas allé en Inde ? lui avait demandé Yuri lors de ces explications. Leur école est plus proche de chez toi et plus ouverte aux étudiants étrangers.- Mais l'équipe de quidditch de Mahoutokoro a bien meilleure réputation !L'une des raisons à cela tenait notamment à l'évènement de ce soir-là. Yuri se tourna vers son ami avec un sourire mystérieux - le sourire de celui qui savait et se réjouissait de le narguer.- Patience Phichit.Un mot inconnu au vocabulaire du garçon de onze ans, qui ouvrit la bouche pour protester. Il fut cependant interrompu avant même de commencer lorsque quatre professeurs s'avancèrent autour du gravier soigneusement ratissé en vagues. La principale Minako Okukawa leva sa baguette, imitée par ses collègues ; le gravier dansa sous leurs charmes, se réarrangea en un cercle entouré d'inscriptions runiques, traversé de lignes terminées par des symboles. L'intérieur s'éclaira alors en partant du centre où les lignes se croisaient, projeta sa lumière vers le ciel.- Wahou !L'exclamation de Phichit, son regard émerveillé, ressemblaient beaucoup à la réaction de Yuri l'année précédente. Sous leurs yeux, deux équipes de quidditch apparurent, face à face au centre d'un terrain lointain, entouré de montagnes aux sommets enneigés. Petits et légèrement transparents, les jeunes gens n'étaient qu'une projection des véritables joueurs, situés en Scandinavie, sur le point de commencer un match entre l'institut Durmstrang en rouge et l'académie de magie Beauxbâtons en bleu. L'analyse des matchs des écoles adverses et des équipes professionnelles faisait partie intégrante de l'entraînement des joueurs de Mahoutokoro, et ce match-ci commença sans tarder sous leur regard attentif. Un soudain coup de coude attira l'attention de Yuri, qui se tourna vers sa voisine de gauche.Depuis peu, Yuuko et Takeshi s'étaient rapprochés, brisant le coeur de Yuri qui nourrissait une admiration secrète pour la jeune fille depuis son entrée à l'académie de magie. Les yeux illuminés d'une excitation joyeuse, elle désigna un joueur du doigt.- Regarde, c'est le jeune attrapeur dont tout le monde parle ! Victor Nikiforov !Yuri détourna son regard de son amie, le posa sur le garçon de treize ans.Et en resta bouche bée.Le Russe filait comme le vent, avec une maîtrise de son balai qui forçait l'admiration, expliquant pourquoi il était devenu le plus jeune attrapeur officiel de l'équipe de Durmstrang depuis plus de vingt ans. Le dernier remontait à Viktor Krum, un génie reconnu dans le monde entier, ce qui en disait long sur les compétences de ce Victor-ci."Il est magnifique" pensa spontanément Yuri. Sa longue queue de cheval argentée volait derrière lui, rappelant les mouvements fluides et gracieux d'un dragon oriental, ondulant à chaque changement de direction. Ses yeux bleu lagon cherchaient en permanence le vif-d'or et, tout en évitant les cognards avec une aisance insensée, il ne laissait aucun répit à l'équipe adverse.- Oh, ce poursuiveur de Beauxbâtons n'est pas mauvais non plus ! remarqua Phichit.Yuuko suivit la direction indiquée : en bonne fan de quidditch qui en suivait toutes les actualités, elle reconnut immédiatement le joueur blond.- Christophe Giacometti. Il a treize ans et c'est sa première année dans l'équipe officielle de son école lui aussi.La chose était moins rare pour les poursuiveurs que les attrapeurs, mais indiquait tout de même un excellent niveau de jeu. D'autant qu'il marquait sa part de points.Mais Yuri n'avait d'yeux que pour l'attrapeur russe au sourire éclatant. * Jour présent Même après quelques jours, la nouvelle lui paraissait toujours surréaliste, mot que Yuri avait pourtant banni de son vocabulaire en découvrant la société des sorciers. Tout y dépassait son imagination à l'époque, des oiseaux marins géants qui assuraient le transport scolaire, aux peintures vivantes sur les panneaux de bois des murs et des portes coulissantes, en passant par la capacité de voler sur des balais ou de transfigurer des objets. Un monde extraordinaire, où presque tout lui paraissait possible, s'était ouvert à lui après la visite du shikigami. S'il avait peu à peu appris que la magie avait des limites, il aurait plus aisément cru celle-ci capable d'inverser le changement climatique qu'à la venue de Victor Nikiforov sur la minuscule île perdue.Depuis ce match quatre ans plus tôt, Yuri suivait toutes ses actualités et aspirait à le rattraper : le Russe était la raison pour laquelle Yuri avait choisi de s'entraîner pour la position d'attrapeur. Le prodige du quidditch apparaissait régulièrement dans les magazines du monde sorcier et était sur le point de faire ses débuts dans l'équipe nationale de son pays à tout juste dix-sept ans. Héritier d'une famille dont la noblesse était plus ancienne que les Tsars, fils du ministre de la magie russe, l'idole de Yuri semblait tout simplement inaccessible, un concept plus qu'un être humain.À présent devenu attrapeur officiel de l'équipe de Mahoutokoro, le jeune Japonais espérait affronter Victor un jour. Mais il y avait un gouffre entre se croiser - peut-être - le temps d'un match et cohabiter sur le propre terrain de Yuri pendant plusieurs mois.L'effervescence de l'académie était pourtant bien réelle. Professeurs comme élèves ne tenaient plus en place, et même les peintures et sculptures du palais semblaient en ébullition. Quant à Phichit, sa sur-excitation atteignit des sommets quelques heures avant l'arrivée des premiers invités.- Ilvermorny ! proclama-t-il.Yuri, le nez plongé dans un livre de tactique quidditch, redressa la tête et repositionna ses lunettes.- Hein ?- L'école américaine, ils arrivent ce matin ! Tu sais que j'ai deux amis là-bas ? - Ah bon ?- Oui, on s'est rencontré sur Magiscroll.- Tu ne les as jamais vu, mais ce sont des amis ?L'idée dépassait Yuri : se lier aux autres lorsqu'ils étaient devant lui relevait déjà d'un défi pour lui. Phichit haussa les épaules, agita sa tablette de cuir qui affichait justement le réseau social sorcier.- On s'entend bien, on parle des heures tous les trois, la seule différence c'est la distance.- Si tu le dis.Yuri se pencha de nouveau sur sa lecture, Phichit tapota de sa baguette le carré de cuir, y inscrivant un long message. Un oiseau d'un rose trop criard pour être naturel vola près d'eux, poursuivi par son propriétaire aux cheveux assortis.- Pop, lui cria Minami, revient ici !Il couru à travers la salle commune des pensionnaires, agita au passage les branches d'un pin représenté sur le mur de bois. Le mouvement irrita son occupant, un phénix blanc connu pour son caractère chatouilleux ; une jeune femme de l'ère Edo sur le panneau opposé gronda l'exubérant garçon, ponctuant ses remontrances de mouvements de son ombrelle.- On dirait que Pop n'apprécie pas la couleur du jour, commenta Phichit tandis que l'oiseau continuait de fuir son jeune maître en pépiant son mécontentement.Yuri se contenta de marmonner son approbation, habitué à ce genre de scène avec ses coéquipiers. Une soudaine exclamation de Phichit lui fit cependant de nouveau lever la tête.- Ils sont presque là !- Qui ?La question tira un soupir exaspéré au Thaïlandais.- Les élèves d'Ilvermorny, tu suis un peu ? Oh ! Je sais !La lueur dans les yeux noirs annonçait généralement des ennuis, aussi Yuri eut un mouvement de recul instinctif. Phichit lui saisit cependant le bras et l'obligea à se lever.- Suis-moi !Sans lui demander son avis, le Thaïlandais entraîna son meilleur ami derrière lui, sourd à ses questions et protestations. Il le conduisit jusqu'au local à balais, s'assura que la voie était libre et en attrapa deux. Il en tendit un à Yuri.- On va surveiller leur arrivée, expliqua-t-il avec un sourire innocent.L'expression d'ange de son meilleur ami ne trompa pas son compagnon qui répondit d'un haussement de sourcils interrogativo-sceptique.- Sur le toit, répondit Phichit à la demande muette.- Bien entendu, tu sais que c'est interdit ?- Les profs sont occupés à agrandir le palais pour recevoir tout ce monde. Tu ne vas quand même pas me laisser tout seul là-haut ?L'adolescent savait comment faire plier Yuri et l'entraîner dans ses mauvais plans, aussi celui-ci se contenta d'enfourcher son balai en levant les yeux au ciel. En réalité, même s'il le montrait peu, il était aussi curieux et impatient que Phichit, et ils le savaient tous les deux. Le Thaïlandais avait juste le bon sens d'éviter la confrontation frontale pour parvenir à ses fins.Ils jetèrent un oeil autour d'eux, puis volèrent jusqu'au sommet du palais de jade blanc. Dès qu'ils atterrirent une voix les réprimanda.- Qu'est-ce que vous faites ici ?Yuri sursauta et se tourna vers la source de la question : un shachihoko placé à l'angle du toit les foudroyait du regard. Sa tête de dragon était tournée vers eux, son corps de carpe relevé de façon à dresser sa nageoire caudale vers le ciel.- Ah, euh, tenta Yuri en agitant sa main libre.- On veut juste surveiller l'arrivée de nos premiers invités, expliqua Phichit avec un sourire enjôleur.La manoeuvre laissa le shachihoko de marbre - ou plutôt de jade - et il rouvrit la gueule pour les sommer d'aller voir ailleurs, lorsqu'une seconde voix intervint de l'autre côté du toit.- Ça va frangin, laisse-les. C'est pas souvent qu'on a de la compagnie ici.Une créature identique était placée à l'angle opposé, aussi joviale et accueillante que sa jumelle était renfrognée. Le second shachihoko sourit aux deux garçons, et les invita à se rapprocher d'un mouvement de nageoire.- Ne vous laissez pas impressionner par mon frère, expliqua-t-elle, il se sent un peu inutile depuis que le bois du palais a été rendu ignifuge par un sort il y a plus d'un siècle. Nous sommes censés protéger des incendies, mais à quoi bon à présent ?La remarque lança une chamailleries entre les deux dragons-carpes, au grand amusement de Phichit, tandis que Yuri se demandait comment s'éclipser discrètement. Son ami ne lui en laissa pas l'occasion : il attrapa son bras, l'obligeant à s'asseoir à ses côtés sur le faîte du toit. À cette hauteur les deux adolescents avaient une vue sur l'ensemble de l'île, par-dessus les bambous et les arbres, jusqu'aux falaises et l'océan.Après un moment assis côte à côte, alors que les deux shachihoko poursuivaient leur querelle, une question revint à Yuri.- Au fait Phichit, d'après mes recherches c'est la première fois qu'un évènement pareil a lieu, tu sais ce qui a poussé les ministères à le mettre en place ?Pour une fois le visage du Thaïlandais devint sérieux tandis qu'il gardait ses yeux fixés sur l'horizon au nord-est. - D'après mon père, la situation internationale est tendue chez les non-maj' depuis quelques années, les dirigeants sorciers craignent qu'un conflit mondial éclate de nouveau. Ils veulent éviter que ça n'éclabousse aussi notre société.- Donc le but est de créer des liens entre les pays ?- Voilà. Ils comptent aussi sur les jeunes générations et... Oh !À cette soudaine exclamation Phichit bondit sur ses pieds. Par réflexe, Yuri le retint par son haori, craignant qu'il ne glisse sur le toit pentu.- Là ! Yuri, regarde !Manifestement pas inquiété par le risque de chute, le Thaïlandais sautillait en indiquant le ciel à son ami, les yeux brillants d'excitation. Sans le lâcher, Yuri leva la tête.Un immense dirigeable rouge et bleu fendit les nuages, volant droit sur l'île de Minamiiwo. Un rayon de soleil frappa ses flancs, éclairant le blason doré de l'école d'Ilvermorny, frappé des symboles de ses quatre maisons. Aucun doute : ce véhicule qui semblait sorti de l'ère de la révolution industrielle transportait les premiers invités de l'académie de Mahoutokoro.Phichit fit une sorte de danse de la joie sur place, attrapa son balai et l'enfourcha.- Vite ! Allons les accueillir !Et sans attendre la réponse, il fila vers le sol. Yuri se redressa, s'emmêla les pieds dans son propre balai, étouffa un juron en se rattrapant avant de suivre son épuisant meilleur ami.Ce dernier avait déjà rouvert le local de quidditch lorsque Yuri atterrit devant. Il mit pied à terre, ouvrit la bouche pour s'adresser à Phichit qui en ressortait déjà.- Messieurs Chulanont et Katsuki.Les interpellés sursautèrent, puis se retournèrent, synchrones : face à eux se tenait Mme Mori, professeur d'herbologie. Bien que plus petite que les deux jeunes hommes - et pourtant Phichit ne faisait qu'un mètre cinquante-sept - elle les toisait, bras croisés, sa baguette agitée d'un mouvement agacé et ses yeux noirs foudroyants.- Une soudaine envie de prendre de la hauteur ? - Ah... eh bien, tenta Yuri en évitant de rencontrer son regard.- Je l'ai obligé, le coupa Phichit, je suis seul responsable sensei.Éberlué, Yuri se tourna vers son ami, son balai toujours en main.- Quoi ?Il appréciait le geste du Thaïlandais, mais il l'avait suivi de son plein gré. Alors qu'il tentait d'organiser ses mots afin de trouver quelque chose de plus intelligent à dire pour protéger à son tour son meilleur ami, le professeur Mori lui coupa l'herbe sous le pied.- Puisque vous semblez tellement tenir à ces balais, vous allez les nettoyer jusqu'au dernier brin, ainsi que tout l'équipement de quidditch.Soit quelques centaines de protections de cuir, casques, balles... en plus des balais. À eux deux, ils en avaient pour quelques heures.- Accio baguettes, prononça le professeur Mori pendant qu'ils faisaient ce calcul mental.Les baguettes des deux adolescents quittèrent leur ceinture et sautèrent dans la main libre de la petite femme.- Le tout sans magie, continua-t-elle. Monsieur Katsuki doit savoir comment faire, n'est-ce pas ?À côté de lui, Yuri sentit son meilleur ami bouillir d'indignation face au sourire sadique du professeur, et il savait que ce n'était pas parce que la punition allait finalement leur prendre la journée. Celle-ci cachait à peine son mépris des non-maj', et par extension des sorciers nés parmi eux, et cette remarque n'était que la dernière d'une longue série de piques et préjugés essuyés par Yuri depuis son entrée à Mahoutokoro. Si elle ne l'avait jamais traité de kegaretachi - sang-de-bourbe chez les occidentaux -, elle avait toujours été étrangement aveugle aux insultes proférées par certains élèves. De là à parler d'une bienveillante complicité, il n'y avait qu'un pas, surtout quand son attitude contrastait tant avec celle d'autres professeurs - la principale Minako Okukawa en tête.Yuri posa une main apaisante sur le bras de Phichit : il refusait de le laisser se mettre en mauvaise posture pour lui.- Bien sensei, répondit-il pour eux deux.Avec une satisfaction mauvaise, le professeur Mori hocha la tête et s'éloigna, laissant les deux garçons devant une tâche qui était certaine de leur faire manquer l'arrivée de toutes les autres écoles. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Un an plus tôt - Bien, poursuivit le professeur Minako Okukawa, à présent ajoutez une goutte de sang et tracez le cercle.Yuri grimaça en se piquant le doigt, puis imbiba l'extrémité de sa baguette du liquide qui perla. Les élèves, alignés en un dégradé vert à rouge, levèrent un bras pour tracer des formes lumineuses dans l'air. Le coeur battant, Yuri les imita, concentré afin de ne pas compromettre le procédé.Malgré des siècles de recherche, personne ne savait pourquoi ou comment un shikigami choisissait de se mettre au service d'un sorcier. À l'âge de quinze ans, les étudiants de Mahoutokoro suivaient une initiation à l'invocation onmyoudou, s'entraînaient à créer un cercle aux inscriptions cabalistiques, supposé appeler leurs familiers. Cependant, ces derniers ne répondraient à l'appel de leur maître qu'après ajout de son sang.Enfin, si des yokai jugeaient bon d'y répondre.En effet, environ deux sorciers sur dix avaient cette chance. Ils bénéficiaient ainsi d'un grand prestige, surtout si les esprits étaient puissants. Yuuko, maîtresse d'une tenso onna - une femme chauve-souris capable de provoquer de mortelles maladies - était actuellement la plus prestigieuse invocatrice parmi les élèves : la joyeuse jeune fille était ainsi une puissante sorcière admirée de tous. Quant au professeur Okukawa, maîtresse de plusieurs shikigami, ses compétences d'invocatrice lui avaient permis de reprendre les contrats des yokai de l'établissement à la suite de son prédécesseur. La maîtrise de cette forme de magie était en effet indispensable pour devenir principal de Mahoutokoro. Chaque shikigami possédait ses propres pouvoirs et pouvait assister son maître de diverses manières : le protéger, transmettre des messages en insufflant leur esprit à des morceaux de papier, récolter des informations...Yuri essaya d'étouffer l'espoir dans son esprit tandis qu'il traçait le cercle lumineux devant lui. Un né non-maj' comme lui, sans talent particulier, n'avait aucune chance d'attirer l'attention d'un esprit, pas vrai ? Pourtant son coeur cognait furieusement dans sa poitrine, si fort qu'il ferma les yeux pour se calmer après avoir inscrit la dernière rune.À quelques pas, un adolescent s'exclama de joie, une voix féminine surprise de l'autre côté, des murmures admiratifs tout autour. Des chanceux manifestement. Yuri refoula une vague de déception."À quoi je m'attendais, hein ?" pensa-t-il, amer. "Pas à moi apparemment," dit soudain une voix caverneuse dans son esprit, "je me nomme Bishugoryuu." Bishugoryuu : beau dragon gardien ? Le garçon étouffa un ricanement au manque de modestie évident avant de réaliser le sens cette conversation.Il ouvrit les yeux brusquement, se retrouva nez à nez avec une minuscule tête ophidienne, loucha sur les yeux argentés fixés sur lui. Un serpent blanc, à peine de la longueur de son avant-bras, émettait une légère lumière et flottait dans l'air devant son visage. * Jour présent - Quelle vieille peau ! râla Phichit pour environ la cent cinquantième fois en cirant une énième genouillère de cuir.La matinée s'était transformée en après-midi, qui touchait à présent à sa fin, tout comme leur tâche. L'agitation grandissante de Mahoutokoro était parvenue jusqu'aux deux amis par vagues bruyantes à chaque nouvelle arrivée. De leur poste de travail, ils avaient vu quelques véhicules survoler l'île, tels le carrosse tiré par des chevaux ailés de Beauxbatons ou le nuage de l'établissement africain Uagadou - sans doute le mode de transport le plus étrange de tous. Ils n'avaient cependant eu aucune chance d'apercevoir le vaisseau de Durmstrang jaillir des profondeurs du Pacifique.- Non mais sérieux, je plains les non-maj', reprit Phichit, regarde l'état de mes mains !En effet, elles étaient couvertes d'ampoules et égratignures, contrairement à celles de Yuri. La remarque du professeur Mori avait eu pour but de dénigrer les origines de ce dernier, mais contenait une part de vérité : Yuri, qui aidait au onsen familial depuis des années, ne s'émouvait guère de ce travail manuel, contrairement à son meilleur ami. Parfois le jeune Japonais pensait que les sorciers qui restaient dans leur société parallèle se reposaient un peu trop sur la magie.Mais au moins, au sein de Mahoutokoro, les élèves étaient en charge d'une bonne part des tâches ménagères, au lieu d'exploiter des elfes de maison. D'ailleurs, ils étaient de service au dîner : une journée décidement passionnante...- Demande un soin à Minami, répondit Yuri, il se débrouille bien en potions.- Ouais, je vais faire ça. Je n'ai plus que deux paires à finir, tu en es où avec les casques ?- C'est mon dernier, je vais t'aider.- Encore désolé Yuri, c'est de ma faute.Yuri haussa les épaules et se dirigea vers les étagères.- Tu ne m'as pas forcé à te suivre.Le duo termina rapidement, Phichit installa ses hamsters dans les plis de son uniforme, puis ils se dirigèrent vers le palais avec un mélange de fatigue et d'excitation à la perspective de rencontrer les étudiants étrangers. Lorsqu'ils purent enfin rejoindre le réfectoire bondé, après avoir récupéré leur baguette et rempli leur nouvelle corvée, ils étaient parmi les derniers arrivants. Ils se figèrent au seuil de la pièce : agrandie par les enchantements des professeurs, les tables basses et coussins avaient été multipliés sur le sol de tatami. La population d'environ deux-cents pensionnaires de Mahoutokoro avait été doublée par l'ajout des élèves des onze autres établissements.L'assemblée joyeusement bruyante était encore plus multicolore que d'ordinaire : des uniformes bleus de Beauxbatons, aux verts de l'établissement brésilien de Castelobruxo, en passant par le noir de Poudlard et le rouge de Durmstrang - dont le chaud lainage avait dû être enchanté pour supporter le climat tropical local. Les peaux des élèves arboraient aussi toutes les teintes existantes, dans un mélange ethnique particulièrement inhabituel dans l'école japonaise.- Phichit ! Par ici !L'interpellé se tourna vers la voix : en tailleur devant une table, un petit adolescent aux joues constellées de taches de rousseur et au regard doux agitait un bras dans sa direction. Il portait l'uniforme bleu et rouge d'Ilvermorny ; une souris émergea de sa seconde manche, puis retourna s'y cacher.Le Thaïlandais couina d'excitation, avant de se jeter dans ses bras, puis serra la main d'un second élève de l'école américaine aux longs cheveux bruns. Pris de court par ces effusions avec de parfaits inconnus, Yuri resta figé sur place, tandis que Phichit papotait avec son aisance légendaire.- Yuri ! l'appela-t-il. Ce sont Guang-Hong et Leo, dont je te parlais ce matin. Les gars, voici Yuri, mon meilleur ami et notre attrapeur qui va vous botter les fesses !À cette annonce peu discrète - en anglais, langue commune à tous les convives -, plusieurs regards se posèrent sur Yuri et quelques murmures parcoururent les tables voisines. En cet instant il aurait voulu que le sol s'ouvre pour l'avaler, dut se contenter de rougir et fixer le bout de ses pieds. Il marmonna une salutation, avant d'envisager sérieusement de faire demi-tour pour s'enfuir.- Oh vraiment ? C'est ça votre attrapeur ?La voix sarcastique dans son dos secoua Yuri dans son début d'attaque de panique. Il se retourna, baissa la tête de presque vingt centimètres et rencontra des yeux verts agressifs à moitié cachés par des mèches blondes. Le garçon portait l'uniforme de Durmstrang.- Tch ! On n'a pas besoin de deux Yuri dans un match, je vais m'assurer que les cognards se débarrassent du bon.Un instant, Yuri se demanda pourquoi ce garçon l'avait interpellé, surtout s'ils n'occupaient pas la même position de jeu. Après tout, l'attrapeur de Durmstrang était...- Yuratchka, ne cherche pas la bagarre avec nos hôtes.Yuri se figea, releva son regard qui tomba sur de longs cheveux argentés. Dans son dos, il entendit le cri étouffé de surprise de Phichit, puis une nouvelle vague de murmures.- Désolé, continua Victor à son attention, mon cousin a un esprit de compétition un peu trop aiguisé parfois. Ainsi tu es mon opposant à Mahoutokoro ?Le Russe lui flasha son sourire le plus éblouissant et lui tendit la main, ignorant les protestations de son jeune coéquipier - Yuri Plisetsky l'identifia enfin le Japonais qui connaissait les détails familiaux de son idole.- Victor Nikiforov, enchanté.- Je sais.La réponse était sortie spontanément : Yuri était si sonné par la situation qu'il en avait oublié les règles de politesse internationale les plus élémentaires. Comme se présenter à son tour ou saisir la main tendue. Le regard bleu lagon de son interlocuteur s'était agrandi de surprise.- Ah, non... euh... je voulais dire, tenta-t-il en agitant les mains frénétiquement. Enfin...Il s'inclina d'un geste vif, avec un angle plus important que nécessaire.- Yuri Katsuki, hajimemashite.Les mots sortirent d'une seule traite, se bousculant, tout comme les idées dans la tête du Japonais qui n'osait plus se redresser. Comme il se demandait comment battre en retraite sans perdre la face, son meilleur ami poussa un cri outré derrière lui. Tout embarras oublié, Yuri se tourna vers Phichit.Il tenait par le cou un chat blanc à poils longs, tentait de le maintenir à bout de bras, loin de ses hamsters qui s'agitaient dans son kimono. Le félin finit par se calmer, mais gardait ses yeux fixés sur le ventre grouillant du Thaïlandais.Des mains le rattrapèrent finalement, le chat se lova dans les bras de son maître, se frotta sur son uniforme bleu clair en ronronnant.- Qu'est-ce que tu penses faire à Edelweiss ?Un Phichit outré se releva, toisa le jeune homme qui faisait pourtant plus de vingt centimètres de plus.- Ton monstre voulait manger mes hamsters, Giacometti.Celui-ci haussa un sourcil brun comme son undercut, contrairement à la partie supérieure de ses cheveux, teinte en blond. Un sourire charmeur passa sur son visage et il sembla soudain émettre une lumière argentée. Tous les convives, filles comme garçons, se tournèrent vers lui, attirés par son aura séductrice.Tous, sauf Yuri, toujours aussi nerveux, et Phichit, indifférent au charme de la magie vélane du Suisse héritée de ses ancêtres.- Oh ? s'amusa celui-ci. On se connaît ? Je pense que je me souviendrais d'une mignonne petite chose comme toi.- Phichit Chulanont, se présenta-t-il avec une révérence moqueuse et un sourire narquois. Roi de l'information, je sais tout ce qui est important sur mes adversaires.Les deux adolescents se défièrent du regard avec un sourire assuré. Yuri profita que tous les yeux étaient braqués sur eux pour s'éclipser. Yuri se laissa tomber sur une marche en pierre couverte de mousse, au pied d'un des autels du sanctuaire baigné de la lumière de la pleine lune. Perdu au coeur de la bambouseraie, ce lieu dédié au kami Benzaiten était le refuge du jeune homme depuis son entrée à Mahoutokoro. Il l'avait découvert par hasard, alors qu'il cherchait un peu de solitude, un jour particulièrement difficile émotionnellement.Depuis, il y revenait dès qu'il voulait lire tranquillement, s'exercer seul à quelque sortilège ou encore passer du temps avec son familier. Après tout, il n'y avait pas meilleur endroit pour enrichir ses compétences que sous le regard de la déesse des arts et du savoir et ses dragons gardiens. Les statues étaient partout, sur les autels, sous les torii, au sol, de toutes les tailles, formes et matières. L'ensemble formait un amoncellement sans logique visible entouré de hauts bambous protecteurs. C'était en quelque sorte aussi le sanctuaire de Yuri, qui n'y avait jamais croisé personne.À chaque visite il se purifiait à la fontaine où un dragon crachait un flux d'eau continu, se recueillait un instant, avant de s'installer dans un coin. Ce jour ne faisait pas exception : il mangea rapidement la collation chipée en cuisine, puis se plongea dans un livre à la lumière de la lune et de sa baguette.Lorsqu'il s'aperçut qu'il relisait le même paragraphe pour la cinquième fois, il abandonna en soupirant et décida d'invoquer son familier.La manoeuvre était à présent imprimée dans son corps et son esprit et ne lui prit que quelques instants. Le petit serpent blanc brillait d'une lueur dont la couleur changeait avec son humeur : la teinte dorée actuelle montrait sa joie de retrouver son maître.Yuri chanta pour lui, il savait que le shikigami appréciait sa voix. Au creux du sanctuaire à la fois mystique et personnel, le garçon sentait ses émotions s'apaiser enfin.- Il est joli, c'est ton patronus ?Yuri sursauta au son de la voix durcie par un fort accent nordique. Son familier vira à un rouge menaçant, se plaça entre lui et l'inconnu qui sortit de l'ombre des bambous, sa baguette éclairant son uniforme de Durmstrang.Comme si le petit serpent pouvait défendre Yuri contre l'élève d'une académie réputée pour sa maîtrise des arts martiaux magiques.- Pardon, reprit le nouvel arrivant, je ne voulais pas t'effrayer.- Je suis plutôt surpris, répondit Yuri en rappelant le yokai à lui, personne ne vient jamais ici.Quelque chose dans son intonation dut trahir que l'intrusion le dérangeait, car le jeune homme s'excusa de nouveau.- J'ai entendu ta voix, expliqua-t-il en s'approchant. Elias, je viens de Finlande.Pour la seconde fois de la soirée, un étudiant de Durmstrang tendit la main à Yuri, mais cette fois il la saisit sans réfléchir.- Yuri.Elias déplaça sa baguette entre eux, illumina ainsi leur visage. Le Finlandais semblait un peu plus âgé que Yuri, avec de longs cheveux bruns qui coulaient sur ses épaules et dans son dos. Il fixa le serpent sur l'épaule de Yuri qui ne le quittait pas du regard, toujours méfiant.- Je n'ai jamais vu de patronus agir ainsi, commenta-t-il avec un sourire qui montait jusqu'au coin de ses yeux bleus et étirait la cicatrice qui lui barrait la joue.- C'est un shikigami - à l'expression perdue de son interlocuteur, Yuri précisa sa réponse. Un familier. Vous n'en avez pas en Europe ?Le visage d'Elias s'éclaira d'un sourire de gamin ravi.- Plus depuis les persécutions des sorciers au Moyen-Âge. C'est un art qui s'est perdu chez nous.Sans attendre, il se laissa tomber sur la marche à côté de Yuri, comme si c'était la chose la plus naturelle du monde. Un coude sur ses genoux repliés, il se tenait le menton et fixait son compagnon avec une lueur excitée dans le regard.Sa spontanéité était à la fois déconcertante et rafraîchissante : le jeune homme laissait Yuri perplexe.- Ils sont courants au Japon ?- Pas tellement.- Wow, alors tu dois être un sorcier impressionnant !Le compliment erroné fit rougir Yuri qui démentit d'un mouvement de main.- Non, non. Hebi-chan est un yokai mineur.- Mignon comme nom.- Le vrai est bien plus ronflant, répondit Yuri avec un sourire amusé - il commençait à se détendre au contact d'Elias.- Ah oui ? C'est quoi ?- Je ne peux pas te le dire, connaître le véritable nom d'un esprit donne tout pouvoir sur lui.Le petit serpent se lova dans un pli du hakama de son maître, à présent rassuré pour sa sécurité.- Il a l'air très attaché à toi, remarqua Elias, tu dois le traiter avec beaucoup de gentillesse.- Je suis responsable de lui, marmonna le Japonais en détournant les yeux, c'est normal.La remarque sembla laisser l'élève de Durmstrang songeur et un silence s'installa quelques instants entre eux. Le vent agita les bambous qui bruissèrent autour d'eux.- Tu es l'attrapeur de Mahoutokoro, pas vrai ?Yuri se crispa à la soudaine question et Hebi-chan se colora d'un bleu interrogateur. Le garçon le rassura d'une caresse, mais ne put réprimer un rougissement. En dehors des matchs de quidditch, il détestait attirer l'attention.- Victor avait l'air de te rendre nerveux, remarqua Elias.Cette fois un rire ironique échappa au Japonais.- J'ai eu l'air d'un imbécile de fan parmi tant d'autres. Dire que j'espérais le rencontrer en égal sur le terrain, c'est raté.- Mais non voyons. L'équipe de Mahoutokoro a plutôt bonne réputation.- Pas tant que lui.Les yeux bleus se plissèrent en une expression rusée, avec une pointe de taquinerie.- Tu n'exagères pas quand tu dis que tu es un fan.- Je... je le suis depuis quatre ans, balbutia Yuri. Il m'a fait une première impression marquante.Yuri ignorait si le coup de foudre existait, peut-être était-ce aussi une forme de magie. Mais ce jour là il avait effectivement eu l'impression d'être frappé par un éclair. À présent, jamais il n'oserait parler au prodige russe.Il se releva - dérangeant Hebi-chan au passage-, épousseta son uniforme et se tourna vers Elias.- On devrait rentrer, c'est bientôt l'heure du couvre-feu. Je vais te montrer le chemin du retour.Le Finlandais fit un "hm-hm" d'approbation avant d'emboîter le pas de son guide. Ils marchèrent en silence dans la bambouseraie, à la lueur de leur baguette, jusqu'à ce que les toits du palais de jade apparaissent.- Yuri ? demanda Elias.Son accent étirait le "u" sur sa langue ; le jeune Japonais y trouva un certain charme.- Oui ?- Je peux revenir te voir dans ton refuge ?- Ce n'est pas...La protestation mourut sur ses lèvres face au regard bleu amusé mais amical.- Très bien. C'est d'accord. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Deux ans plus tôt L'immense couloir était désert, le plafond se perdait loin au-dessus du petit garçon, si loin qu'il en devenait brumeux. Il passa devant une commode aussi haute qu'une falaise. - C'est dingue comme tout parait géant quand on a sept ans, commenta Phichit. Il est normal ce couloir en vrai. Bon d'accord, il est haut, mais pas à ce point.Les contours s'estompèrent, les couleurs perdirent de leur intensité et Yuri tenta de retenir le souvenir comme du sable entre ses doigts.- Phichit, tu veux bien la boucler ? C'est la première fois que je fais ça, j'ai besoin de me concentrer.- Désolé. Je suis une carpe. Promis.Yuri grogna ironiquement, puis recommença.- Legilimens. Le petit garçon s'avança sur la pointe des pieds, attiré par les voix des adultes dans le salon, excité tant par son but que par le frisson de l'interdit. Sur les murs, quelques tableaux réagirent à son passage, mais il leur fit signe de garder le silence : heureusement pour lui, son adorable sourire avait gagné leurs faveurs depuis longtemps, surtout celles de la jeune fille en tenue de danse et haute coiffe dorée. Elle partageait souvent son art avec l'enfant et son petit frère qui marchait depuis peu, mais tentait déjà de les imiter. Leurs rires retentissaient souvent dans la demeure de Bangkok, accompagnés des notes de sueng des peintures environnantes. Mais à cette heure-ci Phichit était censé se trouver au lit. Dormir, alors que son père recevait des étrangers ? Drôle d'idée ! Il voulait voir ces gens venus d'un pays aussi glacial que le sien était brûlant. Il s'approcha de la porte - par chance - entrouverte et le volume des voix augmenta. Les ministres de la magie discutaient en anglais avec des accents bien différents, mais la compréhension ne posa pas de problème à l'enfant bilingue. Il jeta un coup d'oeil par l'entrebaîllement. Assis sur le canapé, son père portait un chut thai formel, haut rouge et or, pantalon foncé bouffant, une large ceinture de soie dorée nouée à la taille. Phichit adorait ces tenues brillantes de prince de conte de fée que son père ne revêtait que rarement. Parfois, il se faufilait jusqu'au placard de ses parents pour les essayer en cachette. Dans un fauteuil proche, se trouvait un homme à la peau aussi pâle que celle de son père était sombre, assis jambes croisées. Il portait un long manteau de laine rouge et un chapeau de fourrure noire qui contrastaient avec ses cheveux argentés. Rien qu'en le regardant, Phichit avait chaud. Et se sentait minuscule : l'homme était un géant à ses yeux d'enfant. - Tiens ? Tu as le droit d'être là toi ? Phichit sursauta, fit volte-face : devant lui, dans une tenue similaire à celle du ministre russe - mais sans coiffe -, se tenait un garçon plus âgé aux longs cheveux argentés lâchement retenus dans le dos. La couleur de son regard lui rappela la mer de Thaïlande. À travers le prisme du souvenir, le reste de ses traits était flou, faisant ressortir ce bleu lagon, ce gris brillant, d'un éclat presque aveuglant. - Je m'appelle Victor, se présenta le garçon avec une expression bienveillante, j'accompagne mon père. Une vraie corvée. Il soupira sur une mèche échappée avec un air dramatique. Phichit gloussa. Sautilla d'excitation. - Mais tu voyages, ça doit être génial ! Papa n'a pas voulu m'emmener au Japon le mois dernier, se souvint-il avec une grimace boudeuse. Le sourire du Russe s'élargit, prit une adorable forme de coeur. - Là, tu vois ! intervint le Phichit de treize ans avec enthousiasme. Je t'avais bien dit que son vrai sourire était différent !Comme la déconcentration commençait à gommer ledit sourire, Yuri fit taire son ami d'un geste. - Comment tu t'appelles ? reprit le Victor du souvenir d'une voix lointaine et déformée. Phichit ouvrit la bouche pour lui répondre, puis poser ses cinquante premières questions sur son pays. Il voulait tout savoir : à quoi ressemblaient les villes ? Et les campagnes ? Quelles créatures y vivaient ? Il voulait entendre la langue mystérieuse, il voulait... - Phichit Chulanont ! s'écria soudain une voix furieuse dans le salon. - Oups ! Je suis repéré ! Le garçon fila avec un salut pour Victor, avant d'être rattrapé par la colère maternelle. Le décor ondula. S'estompa.Une soudaine sensation d'anxiété. Yuri avait-il le droit d'explorer ainsi les souvenirs et pensées intimes de son ami ?Une vague de profonde confiance, d'affection sincère.Les sentiments de Phichit se mêlèrent aux siens.- Arrête un peu de te prendre la tête Yuri.Un nouveau décor se forma : le dortoir, une semaine plus tôt. Une scène que Yuri avait déjà vécu, mais du point de vue de son ami. Assis sur son lit, Yuri admirait une double page du magazine Young Quidditch Today. Il semblait si concentré que Phichit ne put s'empêcher de le taquiner. - Tu vas faire des trous dans le papier à force. Yuri sursauta. Rougit. Son meilleur ami savait déjà qui se trouvait sur la photo, mais jeta tout de même un coup d'œil : Victor volait sur fond montagneux, avant de fixer la caméra avec un sourire qui sonnait faux. - Son vrai sourire est bien plus chaleureux, commenta le Thaïlandais. Le magazine tomba des mains de Yuri. Sur la photo Victor lança des clins d'œil avant de reprendre son vol. - Comment tu sais ça ? - Son père est venu en visite officielle quand j'étais gamin et... Attends une minute ! Je peux te montrer ! Excité par la perspective, il fixa Yuri avec espoir. La mâchoire de celui-ci paraissait sur le point de se décrocher : il avait donc compris le sens de la requête, mais Phichit précisa sa pensée. - Deviens mon partenaire de dokushinjutsu. - Moi ? s'étonna le Japonais. Tu es sûr ? Ça veut dire un serment inviolable entre nous, aucun secret et... Il secoua la tête. Cette conversation lui semblait surréaliste. - Tu pourrais partager ça avec n'importe qui vu ta popularité. - Mais je ne veux pas n'importe qui, je te veux toi Yuri. * Jour présent Sur le pied de guerre, l'équipe de Mahoutokoro se préparait pour l'entraînement, jetant de furtifs coups d'œil à la foule de leurs concurrents. Le professeur Anko venait d'achever ses explications de l'organisation du tournoi.- Donc, commença prudemment Takeshi, on a deux semaines d'entraînement avec les autres avant de commencer les matchs.- En effet, confirma Yuuko. Et on ne connaîtra nos premiers adversaires que d'ici dix jours.À quelques pas, Phichit prit congé de Leo et Guang-Hong, jeta un regard narquois à Christophe en dépassant les élèves de Beauxbatons, puis rejoignit ses coéquipiers. Il se laissa tomber à côté de Yuri qui enfilait ses genouillères en silence.- Bien, commença le Thaïlandais, j'ai récolté des informations. Je sais qui sont les joueurs à abattre.- Phichit ! le gronda Yuuko.- À viser avec les cognards, corrigea-t-il avec un sourire d'ange qui ne trompa personne. En gros, il y a trois équipes dangereuses : Ilvermorny, Beauxbatons et bien sûr Durmstrang. Poudlard pourrait aussi nous donner du fil à retordre, mais sans plus.Les yeux toujours baissés sur ses bottes, Yuri se crispa.- Et Wooloonji ?Le silence tomba sur l'équipe japonaise. Autour d'eux, les conversations en français, russe, brésilien et autres langues se poursuivaient dans un joyeux brouhaha. L'année précédente, Yuri avait remplacé l'attrapeur titulaire lors d'un match contre l'école australienne. Mahoutokoro avait perdu d'un cheveux, ou plutôt d'une longueur de main : celle de Yuri, tendue à quelques centimètres du vif d'or alors que son opposant refermait la sienne sur la précieuse balle ailée.- Ce n'était pas ta faute Yuri, toute l'équipe était un peu patraque. On aurait dû demander un report pur et simple du match.Phichit savait mieux que personne à quel point son meilleur ami culpabilisait : il avait ressenti en personne ses sentiments lors de la séance de dokushinjutsu qui avait suivi. Mais il connaissait également l'étendu de l'esprit de compétition de Yuri. Il se leva, fit face à ses compagnons avec un sourire en coin, les bras croisés en défi.- Vous voulez parier sur notre adversaire en finale ?- Phichit-senpai ! couina Minami. Il faudrait déjà arriver jusque là !- Évidemment, répondit-il avec un geste de la main pour écarter ce détail. Je parie sur Beauxbatons.Yuri émit un son à mi-chemin entre un rire et un reniflement indigné.- Dis plutôt que le capitaine t'a tapé dans l'œil. Ce sera Durmstrang.- Tu peux parler, tu baves sur ce capitaine-là depuis des années.- Phichit !Rouge de confusion, Yuri bondit sur lui, les mains sur sa bouche pour l'empêcher de poursuivre. Le Thaïlandais se libéra ; son expression était devenue diabolique.- Ça va, les autres équipes ne parlent pas japonais.- Qu'est-ce que t'en sais ? siffla Yuri entre ses dents.- J'en sais rien.Yuri saisit son balai, Phichit éclata de rire, évita l'objet dont le menaçait son meilleur ami. Le Japonais le poursuivit en jurant.- Si c'est comme ça que tu utilises les balais, on n'a vraiment rien à craindre de votre équipe, l'interrompit une voix moqueuse en anglais. Ça ne sera même pas amusant de vous écrabouiller.Yuri se figea, bras levé. Il se retourna, mais savait déjà qui venait le provoquer ainsi. Encore.- Tch ! poursuivit son homonyme blond. Tu tremblais devant Victor hier, qu'est-ce que tu pourras faire une fois là-haut hein ?Ce sale gosse commençait à l'irriter sérieusement. Aussi dangereux qu'un chaton hargneux, il cherchait pourtant des noises à l'attrapeur d'une équipe adversaire réputée qui le dépassait de plus de quinze centimètres."Il me sous-estime," réalisa Yuri avec un sourire suffisant, balai posé négligemment sur l'épaule, sa main libre sur la hanche. Il releva le menton en défi, accentuant la différence de taille entre eux.Menaçant, le jeune Russe tapa du pied, s'approcha, sourcils froncés.- Pourquoi tu souris, looser ?- Dis-donc, gamin... commença Phichit de toute sa hauteur - à peine supérieure à celle de son cadet.D'un geste de la main, Yuri l'interrompit. Son sourire s'élargit et il dévisagea le blondinet comme il le ferait avec un bambin capricieux.- Oh, je me débrouillerai, répondit-il enfin d'une voix doucereuse. Tu veux vérifier que je sais voler ? L'entraînement se transforma en match improvisé, mélangeant les joueurs selon les amitiés déjà tissées. Si l'idée venait de Phichit, Yuuko l'avait rapidement approuvée : quel meilleur moyen de jauger leurs adversaires ? Ainsi, une équipe Mahoutokoro-Ilvermorny se constitua d'un côté, tandis que Beauxbatons vint prêter main forte à Durmstrang de l'autre.Yuri pâlit en réalisant que sa bravade le plaçait face à Victor.Déjà.Maudit soit son esprit de compétition : aux provocations d'un gamin il avait foncé, tête baissé, dans une situation inconfortable. Et il ne s'était pas préparé psychologiquement à ce duel.Il observa le Russe qui papouillait son chien à quelques pas de là, en lui parlant dans sa langue maternelle. Le caniche ressemblait à celui que Yuri avait laissé au domicile familial, mais au format du dessus, aussi il ressentit une sympathie immédiate pour lui. L'animal le remarqua, agita la queue et s'approcha d'une démarche sautillante pour réclamer une caresse, qu'il obtint sans difficulté.- On dirait que Makkachin t'aime bien.Yuri leva la tête : Victor l'observait avec son sourire de magazine. Les yeux baissé, le Japonais marmonna un truc incompréhensible, puis se détourna lorsque Yuri Plisetsky recommença à râler - pour une fois, ça l'arrangeait.- Alors, cracha ce dernier, où est votre terrain ?À la question, l'expression de Phichit devint rusée.- Les terrains tout propres c'est juste pour les matchs officiels, mini-Yuri.- M'appelle pas comme ça !- Alors quoi ? Yuchan ? Non, c'est le surnom de Yuuko... Je sais ! Yurio.- Quoi ?!Les yeux exorbités, le jeune Russe manquait d'air sous l'indignation. Derrière lui, Victor éclata de rire avant de tapoter l'épaule de son cousin.- Excellente idée, ça évitera de vous confondre.Son regard lagon se posa sur Yuri à ces mots, qui se sentit rougir jusqu'à la racine des cheveux. Il avait conscience du ridicule de ses réactions démesurées, mais c'était plus fort que lui.- Donc, reprit Phichit, Yurio, ici on s'entraîne au-dessus de l'océan. Avec les falaises d'un côté, les vagues déchaînées et les coups de vent traîtres. Que du fun. Je me demande si un chaton comme toi pourra tenir sur son balai dans ces conditions. Tu risques d'y laisser des traces de griffe, non ?Ledit chaton répondit d'une pluie d'invectives, ce qui ne fit qu'amuser ses aînés. Christophe s'approcha de Phichit, se pencha pour se faire entendre par-dessus le brouhaha.- Ça a l'air amusant, petit hamster. Mais les bourrasques ne vont pas t'emporter ?- J'ai hâte de te voir boire la tasse, Giacometti.Comme la veille, le Suisse sembla soudain briller d'une aura séduisante. Ses cheveux, ses yeux verts, même sa peau émirent une lumière argentée. Planté à deux pas de là, Yuri ne pouvait détourner le regard de ce spectacle envoûtant et il n'avait soudain qu'une envie : que Christophe fasse ce qu'il veut de lui, pourvu qu'il lui accorde son attention.Mais celle-ci était entièrement consacrée à Phichit. Le capitaine de Beauxbatons posa une main au creux des reins du Thaïlandais, s'approcha encore de son oreille.- Appelle-moi Chris, susurra-t-il d'une voix veloutée.Phichit haussa des sourcils moqueurs, puis le repoussa fermement.- Peut-être une autre fois.Le charme se brisa aussi brusquement qu'il s'était déclenché.Yuri cligna des yeux, perdu, comme au sortir d'une transe, tandis que son meilleur ami l'entraînait avec lui vers la falaise. Il jeta un coup d'œil par-dessus son épaule : Christophe les observait, manifestement intrigué par cette tornade miniature insensible à sa magie vélane. Une bourrasque passa soudain au-dessus de l'océan, secoua les adolescents sur leurs balais. Yuri observa les joueurs des autres écoles avec une satisfaction mesquine tandis qu'ils reprenaient leur équilibre avec plus ou moins de succès. Le chaton furieux lança un chapelet de jurons russes - pas besoin de traduction, l'intonation était limpide -, avant de lui accorder un regard noir.Yuri l'ignora et détailla leurs autres adversaires, essayant de se souvenir des informations de Phichit.D'après ce dernier, ils réunissaient le meilleur des deux écoles : les jeunes filles Mila de Durmstrang et Sara de Beauxbatons étaient des poursuiveuses aussi redoutables que Christophe ; Michele de Beauxbatons maniait les cognards avec presque autant de hargne que Yurio ; quant à Victor, il était déjà qualifié de Légende Vivante par la presse. Seules les compétences de leur gardien restaient inconnues : Otabek venait tout juste d'intégrer l'équipe de Durmstrang, et il était si discret, parlait si peu, que personne ne le connaissait vraiment.De leur côté, Leo et Guang-Hong s'étaient joints à Yuuko pour les postes de poursuiveur, et avaient entraîné leur gardien, Seung-Gil, au passage. Pas plus causant que celui de l'équipe adverse, il semblait agacé de se retrouver devant les trois anneaux de but qui flottaient dans le vide, mais ses coéquipiers garantissaient ses compétences. Phichit et Minami tenaient leur poste de batteur, l'un déterminé à mener la vie dure à leurs opposants, l'autre sautillant de surexcitation sur son balai.Au centre du terrain de jeu délimité par une corde volante, Takeshi s'apprêtait à relâcher les balles. En bas, les vagues se déchaînaient en rouleaux qui projetaient des embruns jusqu'aux jeunes gens en s'écrasant contre la falaise. Au sommet de celle-ci, les autres élèves s'étaient amassés pour assister au spectacle et leurs cris confus se perdaient au milieu du grondement des flots et du sifflement du vent. Un instant, Yuri tenta d'apercevoir Elias : il n'avait pas croisé l'élève de Durmstrang depuis la veille.Puis le jeu commença et il oublia le reste. Yuri n'avait pas joué avec autant de passion depuis des lustres. Ou plutôt depuis le match en Australie l'année précédente : il s'était peut-être soldé par un désastre, mais le jeune homme ne s'était jamais senti aussi vivant. Certes, il se sentait heureux dès qu'il volait, sa concentration atteignait des sommets lorsqu'il cherchait le vif d'or sur un terrain aux allures de fourmilière, mais rien ne remplaçait l'adrénaline qui courait dans ses veines face à un rival.Leo avait capturé le souafle et remontait le terrain en slalomant entre les obstacles. Mila lui barra le passage, il passa à Guang-Hong. Yuri admira la coordination des deux joueurs d'Ilvermorny : ils n'avaient pas besoin de mots pour se comprendre.Christophe fonça sur Guang-Hong, mais au dernier instant un cognard l'obligea à plonger. Au sourire satisfait de Phichit, Yuri sut sans l'ombre d'un doute d'où venait le coup. Le souafle passa à Yuuko qui marqua - de justesse - un but. Des cris s'élevèrent de la falaise, Yuri fit un "yes !" ravi avant de devoir éviter un cognard redirigé par Yurio.- Oups !Le Japonais tourna la tête à l'exclamation.Depuis le début du match, Victor lui collait au train et le cognard l'avait aussi manqué de peu. Certes, la tactique était courante pour des attrapeurs : le principe étant de s'assurer que l'adversaire ne prendrait pas de longueur d'avance lors de l'apparition du vif d'or. Mais d'ordinaire Victor ne se reposait pas sur cette méthode.- On dirait que Yuri - pardon Yurio - est bien décidé à t'assommer, remarqua le Russe, amusé.Non seulement il le collait, mais en plus il avait cherché à plusieurs reprises à engager la conversation. Comme si c'était le moment, pensa Yuri avec irritation.- Il prend ce match au sérieux, lui au moins.L'adolescent ne supportait pas qu'on le traite comme quantité négligeable. Légende vivante ou pas.Les yeux de Victor s'agrandirent de surprise à la rebuffade. Un instant, Yuri cru apercevoir le sourire en coeur, identique au souvenir de Phichit, mais un cognard l'obligea encore à esquiver. Lorsqu'il jeta un nouveau coup d'œil à son rival, celui-ci avait repris son expression coutumière : sourire neutre qui ne montait pas jusqu'au bleu de son regard.Yuri avait dû rêver l'instant précédent.- Si tu veux devenir un bon attrapeur, tu dois avoir l'esprit partout. Les deux Yuri, vous jouez les provocateurs, mais vous n'êtes que des oisillons sortis du nid.Le sourire n'avait pas faibli malgré l'insulte, laissant Yuri d'autant plus sonné, bouche ouverte. Lorsque Victor plongea soudain, son cerveau eut un temps de retard.Le vif d'or se trouvait à l'autre bout du terrain et Victor l'avait repéré. Tout ce temps, il n'avait jamais cesser de surveiller son environnement.Trop tard, beaucoup trop tard, Yuri se lança à sa poursuite, évitant lui aussi les joueurs à contresens, les cognards, luttant contre les rafales, rasant la crête des vagues.- Le match est terminé ! hurla soudain Takeshi.Deux petites ailes dépassaient de la main de Victor, levée dans un geste victorieux. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Neuf ans plus tôt Si presque tous les élèves de première année avaient déjà des amis ou de la famille à Mahoutokoro, Yuri se retrouva seul et désorienté lors de sa première rentrée. Quelques semaines plus tôt il ignorait tout de la société des sorciers et n'avait pu grandir avec ses pairs.Il ne connaissait donc personne. Ou presque, car la principale Minako Okukawa l'avait pris sous son aile.Rares au Japon, les sorciers nés non-maj' bénéficiaient d'un suivi individuel pour faciliter leur intégration. Cette disposition ne modifiait pas pour autant les préjugés de certains camarades, mais la principale n'était pas ce genre de personne et guida Yuri avec une ferme bienveillance dans ses premiers pas au sein de leur communauté.Tout cela n'empêcha pas le garçon de sept ans de se sentir perdu à Mahoutokoro. Le bel enthousiasme des premiers jours laissa bientôt place à l'anxiété. Le soir, il rentrait démoralisé et le katsudon de sa mère n'y faisait rien.Trop vite, il apprit le terme kegaretachi qu'on murmurait sur son passage, avec plus ou moins de discrétion et des regards dédaigneux. Yuri était jeune mais pas idiot, il comprit que son origine non-maj' était impure aux yeux de ces sorciers de naissance, qui ne se gênaient pas pour le qualifier de "sang sale".Seuls son entêtement et sa soif d'apprendre permirent à Yuri de tenir le coup.Ainsi que la danse classique.Lorsqu'il dansait, il oubliait ses doutes, son blues, ses craintes. Alors, après quelques semaines à Mahoutokoro avec un moral en dents de scie, il prit l'habitude de s'isoler pour pratiquer lors des pauses.C'est ainsi qu'un jour à l'heure du déjeuner, Minako le découvrit qui perfectionnait son arabesque à l'abri d'une haie, dans un coin de jardin. La jambe de soutien tremblait un peu, mais l'autre était horizontale, un bras parallèle à celle-ci, le second dressé vers le ciel.- Tu aimes la danse Yuri ?Le petit garçon sursauta, sa pose s'écroula et lui avec : il atterrit sur l'herbe. Les lunettes de travers, il fixa la principale d'un air coupable, comme s'il avait été surpris en pleine bêtise.Minako lui fit un sourire rassurant et tendit sa main pour l'aider à se relever. Le petit garçon l'accepta sans hésiter : la sorcière s'était montrée digne de sa confiance depuis leur rencontre.- Tu as une belle posture pour ton âge, reprit Minako. On voit que tu t'entraînes beaucoup.Sous le compliment, Yuri rosit, puis remit ses lunettes en place pour se donner contenance.- J'ai commencé à cinq ans, mais c'est devenu intéressant cette année, marmonna-t-il la tête baissée.- Ah oui, vous débutez l'enseignement technique.À cette réponse, Yuri leva les yeux vers la principale. Une lueur d'intérêt - et d'espoir - y brillait.- Il y a des ballets aussi chez les sorciers ?- Pas exactement, mais ma mère était danseuse professionnelle. Une non-maj'.Bouche bée, le petit garçon dévisagea Minako comme s'il la voyait pour la première fois. Celle-ci fit un geste de la main pour écarter ce détail.- Je suis une sang-mêlée. L'influence de ma mère m'a amenée à intégrer la danse classique non-maj' à certains arts sorciers. Intéressé par des cours particuliers ?Tout le visage de Yuri s'éclaira d'une joie qui l'avait quitté depuis plusieurs semaines. * Jour présent Yuri se sentait piteux.Non.Mortifié.Non seulement il s'était montré grossier envers son idole, mais il s'était ridiculisé lors du match. Il ne pouvait en vouloir à Victor pour sa pique : elle était méritée.Le chaton lui lança un regard arrogant, puis râla sur Mila lorsqu'elle ébouriffa sa tignasse blonde, tandis que Chris donnait l'accolade à Victor. Makkachin avait accueilli son maître quand il avait atterri au sommet de la falaise, avant de sautiller en frétillant d'un membre à l'autre du groupe. Ce dernier était agité d'une joyeuse effervescence.Et pendant ce temps, Yuri se sentait de nouveau responsable de la défaite de son équipe. Furieux de ses propres erreurs et faiblesses.- C'était une expérience amusante, commenta Leo.À son sourire et regard doux, il ne semblait pas contrarié par le résultat du match. Mais Yuri n'était pas dupe : bien sûr que ses coéquipiers lui en voulaient.- Oui, répondit Guang-Hong, on devrait refaire ça ! C'était un bon exercice.L'équipe Mahoutokoro-Ilvermorny discutait avec animation elle aussi. Yuri resta en retrait, le poing serré autour du manche de son balai à en blanchir les jointures de ses doigts.Il ne méritait pas son poste d'attrapeur titulaire.Qu'est-ce qu'il croyait pouvoir faire contre LE Victor Nikiforov ? Le rencontrer en égal ? Quelle blague pathétique !Le sol devint flou. Tourna. Sa respiration accéléra. Sa bouche devint soudain sèche.Il devrait démissionner. Oui, c'était la bonne chose à faire pour l'équipe. Pour Mahoutokoro. Pour son pays. Il allait prendre Yuuko à part et...Deux mains fermes se posèrent soudain sur ses épaules. Il sursauta, brusquement sorti de sa spirale d'auto-flagellation. Ramené au présent comme par un atterrissage forcé. Un crash qui le laissa sonné.Les mains l'obligèrent à faire volte-face et, par pur réflexe, il releva la tête, rencontra les yeux noirs de son meilleur ami.- Je sais ce que tu es en train de penser Yuri, mais stop. Ce n'était qu'un match d'entraînement O.K. ? Dans des circonstances spéciales, avec les meilleurs joueurs des meilleures écoles. La crème de la crème. Ça ne veut rien dire pour le tournoi. Tes compétences n'ont pas disparu. Et on est une équipe : tu n'as pas attrapé le vif d'or, mais je n'ai pas réussi à arrêter Victor, nos poursuiveurs n'ont pas marqué assez de buts, notre gardien n'a pas arrêté assez de souafles... Tu comprends ?Yuri hocha la tête. Sa réponse ne dupa guère son meilleur ami. Comme s'il pouvait jamais y parvenir.Pas avec lui.Sans retirer sa main gauche, Phichit sortit sa baguette de la droite avec un regard interrogateur ; Yuri hocha la tête : c'était contraire au règlement de l'école, mais il en avait besoin.- Legilimens, murmura le Thaïlandais.Une soudaine vague de douceur, de confiance, de fierté envahit l'esprit de Yuri. Comme un câlin interne. Il laissa les sentiments positifs de Phichit le submerger, sentit la vague de panique refluer.Seigneur qu'il aimait cette attachante tornade ! Il ne pouvait rêver meilleur ami.Ce dernier rit doucement et le sort se rompit.- Moi aussi, Yuri, chuchota-t-il en passant un bras autour de ses épaules. Allez, viens avec nous, Leo et Guang-Hong sont d'excellente compagnie, ça te changera les idées. * Phichit n'avait pas menti : ses amis d'Ilvermorny possédaient une personnalité posée et bienveillante. Apaisante.Les deux élèves de Mahoutokoro guidèrent leurs visiteurs à travers les jardins de l'académie. Depuis leur arrivée la veille, ils n'avaient vu qu'une partie du palais, sa cour intérieure et la falaise où ils s'entraînaient.- Au fait, commença Leo tandis qu'ils traversaient l'une des serres de l'établissement, nous avons un cours d'onmyoudou dans notre emploi du temps. Qu'est-ce que c'est ?Guang-Hong étouffa un cri lorsqu'un chou mordeur claqua des dents à son passage. Par réflexe il s'accrocha au bras de Leo qui y prêta à peine attention.L'exceptionnel rassemblement des écoles de magie permettait des échanges de savoirs inédits : si Mahoutokoro proposait une découverte de l'onmyoudou, ses élèves pourraient bénéficier par exemple de l'expertise de Castelobruxo en botanique ou celle d'Ilvermorny en matière de chamanisme amérindien.- La voie du yin et du yang, répondit Phichit. Ça recouvre plusieurs compétences : divination, charmes de protection, invocation, connaissance des yokai...- Un rapport avec la magie chinoise ? demanda Guang-Hong toujours au bras de son coéquipier.La question sortit Yuri de son silence.- Oui, ça dérive du wu xing.Au regard vide de Leo et Phichit, le visage de Guang-Hong s'éclaira d'un sourire qui mit en valeur les taches de rousseur sur ses pommettes.- Le principe des cinq éléments. Ma famille trempe dedans depuis des générations, ma grand-mère m'a bourré le crâne de séances de divination et de "tu dois sentir le flux cosmique Guang-Hong", conclut-il avec un effet comique en levant les yeux au ciel.Ses compagnons s'esclaffèrent. Phichit fouilla dans le sac qu'il trimballait partout avec lui.- Je me demande si on a des cours commun, attends que je jette un oeil à... Mince !Une petite forme s'échappa de sa manche, trottina entre leurs jambes et se dirigea vers un bosquet. Par réflexe, le Thaïlandais se lança à sa poursuite, à quatre pattes devant le buisson.- Phichit, remarqua Yuri d'une voix prudente, ces ronces ont très mauvais caractère.- Je sais bien, mais Vishnu en adore les feuilles.La plante frémit lorsque le hamster s'approcha de l'une d'elles. Le rongeur y planta les dents ; les ronces hérissèrent leurs épines et balançèrent leurs tiges dans toutes les directions pour se débarrasser de l'agresseur. Leo recula en tirant Guang-Hong hors de portée d'une attaque, tandis que Yuri sortait sa baguette.- Accio hamster !Vishnu vola hors du buisson jusqu'à la main ouverte du jeune homme, qui récupéra également ses deux frères attirés hors de l'uniforme de leur propriétaire.Les ronces continuaient de s'agiter, égratignèrent la joue de Phichit, déchirèrent sa manche. Guang-Hong l'attrapa par le col du haori et suivit Yuri qui se dirigeait déjà vers la sortie.Ce dernier surgit en trombe hors de la serre et tomba nez à nez - littéralement - avec une jeune fille. Le choc envoya Yuri en arrière, les hamsters volèrent, coururent en tout sens jusqu'à rejoindre leur maître, tandis que l'inconnue jurait en espagnol en se frottant le front. Derrière elle un groupe d'adolescent riait de sa déconvenue.- Ton vocabulaire est toujours aussi fleuri Ana, remarqua Leo dans la langue commune.L'interpellée retira la main devant son visage, dévoilant sa peau cuivrée constellée de taches de rousseur et ses yeux noirs en amande qui lancèrent des éclairs à la ronde.- ¡Cállate Leo! Vous pouvez pas regarder où vous allez ?- Désolé, répondit Yuri en se relevant, le menton rouge après sa rencontre musclée.Un gaillard barraqué à côté d'Ana détailla Phichit de la tête aux pieds, avisa les éraflures sur sa joue et sa manche déchirée.- Vous avez rencontré un ours ou quoi ?Son sourire éclatant contrastait avec le foncé de sa peau et les dreadlocks dressées sur sa tête ajoutaient quelques centimètres supplémentaires à sa taille déjà impressionnante. Sans attendre de réponse, il pointa sa baguette sur Phichit, répara le tissu et soigna la plaie sans prononcer un mot. Puis il fit apparaitre des glaçons qui volèrent vers les deux jeunes gens entrés en collision.- Gracias Antonin, le remercia Ana.D'une main, elle souleva ses longs cheveux noirs pour les rassembler dans son dos, agitant les longues boucles d'oreille qui encadraient son visage.Leo désigna à ses amis de Mahoutokoro le groupe de jeunes originaires d'Amérique centrale.- C'est l'équipe de Tituba, on les rencontre parfois en match régional. Et Ana est une amie d'enfance.L'école devait son nom à une esclave barbadienne accusée de sorcellerie lors du procès de Salem en 1692. L'une de ses amies - une vraie sorcière, elle - avait fui les persécutions puritaines et créé l'établissement dans le triangle des Bermudes.- Dites, vous faites vraiment disparaître les navires et avions non-maj' ? leur demanda le Thaïlandais avec sa curiosité habituelle.Il était de notoriété publique dans la communauté magique que les charmes de protection de Tituba se trouvaient à l'origine des légendes non-maj' sur cette zone des Caraïbes : ils déréglaient les compas des navigateurs depuis des siècles et les radars modernes s'affolaient en les approchant.- Plus maintenant, répondit Antonin, la principale se contente d'effacer leur mémoire et détourner leurs appareils.- "Plus maintenant" ? releva Yuri.- Après Salem, la fondatrice était lééégèrement en pétard contre les non-maj'. Certains bateaux en ont fait les frais à l'époque. Et pendant encore quelques siècles d'ailleurs.- La ridicule politique de l'école contre les sorciers d'origine non-maj' vient de là, s'énerva Ana. Même les sang-mêlés comme Leo sont refusés !- Ça va Ana, je suis très bien à Ilvermorny. Après tout je suis Américain.- Mais ta famille maternelle est au Mexique. Vos cours ne sont même pas en espagnol !Yuri se crispa à l'évocation de ce sujet. Tituba n'était pas le seul établissement avec de telles conditions d'entrée, le plus célèbre exemple étant Durmstrang. Lorsque le jeune Japonais avait appris que l'école scandinave acceptait des étudiants du monde entier, il avait voulu demander un transfert, rejoindre leur équipe de quidditch, et ainsi se rapprocher de son idole.L'atterrissage de cette rêverie avait été violent. Et lui avait laissé un goût amer.- Si Leo avait été à Tituba je ne l'aurais pas rencontré, grommela Guang-Hong, si bas que seul Yuri l'entendit.Surpris par la soudaine mauvaise humeur du jeune Chinois, il suivit la direction de son regard : Leo et Ana discutaient en espagnol avec la complicité propre aux amis de longue date."Oh," réalisa Yuri, "je vois."Il attrapa Guang-Hong par la manche, interrompit la conversation de son meilleur ami avec Antonin.- Phichit, on devrait leur montrer où ont lieu les cours de soins aux créatures magiques avant le dîner. Leo, tu viens ?Bouche bée, Guang-Hong fixa tour à tour Yuri, puis son coéquipier qui prenait congé d'Ana. Ses joues rosirent lorsqu'il comprit qu'il n'était pas aussi discret qu'il le pensait.- Merci, chuchota-t-il au Japonais.Celui-ci se contenta d'un sourire rassurant et ouvrit le chemin. * Affamés comme seuls des adolescents en pleine croissance à la fin d'une journée bien remplie peuvent l'être, les quatre amis rejoignirent le réfectoire lors du pic d'affluence. Ils s'installèrent à une table basse : un plateau vola devant chacun sous la baguette des élèves de service. Le fumet de la soupe miso s'éleva dans l'air, se mélangea à celui du tofu assaisonné et du riz.Yuri tendit la main vers le bol d'edamame, suspendit son geste lorsqu'une voix féminine s'adressa à leur groupe.- On peut se joindre à vous ?Le Japonais redressa la tête : son regard tomba sur une chevelure flamboyante et le regard bleu amical de Mila. À ses côtés Sara adressa un sourire rayonnant aux quatre garçons. L'Italienne possédait des yeux incroyables, d'un violet presque surnaturel et Yuri en resta bouche bée, la cosse d'edamame en main, oubliant la question.Du reste, Sara n'attendit pas de réponse avant de se laisser tomber à ses côtés, tandis que Mila s'installait en face, près de Leo.- C'était dingue ce match pas vrai ? commença joyeusement Sara. Et vraiment chouette de mélanger les équipes. On a joué tellement souvent l'une contre l'autre avec Mila, mais jamais ensemble ! Super idée les garçons !- Euh... Merci ? répondit Yuri, incertain de ce qu'on attendait de lui.Plus encore, il se demandait pourquoi les deux jeunes filles lui parlaient de leur propre gré. Elles devraient le prendre de haut après leur défaite. Yuri s'obligea à repousser ses ruminations dans un coin de son esprit, de peur de sentir l'anxiété refaire surface.Ses compagnons ne semblaient pas se poser tant de questions et bavardaient joyeusement avec les jeunes filles. Yuri qui se prit finalement au jeu : il était difficile de ne pas apprécier leur compagnie.- Tu pactises avec l'ennemi Sara ? intervint soudain une voix irritée.- Lâche-moi Mickey, rétorqua-t-elle sans même se retourner.Son frère ne répondit pas, mais prit place à ses côtés. Il ne se joignit pas à la conversation et se contenta de manger en silence, avec des coups d'œil protecteurs vers sa jumelle qui l'ignora ostensiblement et poursuivit ses bavardages.- Vos joueurs sont impressionnants. Yuri tu te débrouilles plus que bien sur un balai ! Je suis curieuse de...Cette fois c'est un rire moqueur qui les coupa. Autour de la table, toutes les têtes se tournèrent vers son origine : un jeune homme brun au sourire arrogant les toisait.- Si MOI j'avais joué, vous n'auriez pas perdu.- JJ, soupira Leo face à son coéquipier.- Isabella aurait attrapé le vif d'or, ELLE.- Elle a validé cette distribution de l'équipe.Yuri n'entendait plus les conversations. Il ne pouvait qu'approuver : la capitaine d'Ilvermorny n'aurait pas fait perdre son équipe. La colère monta au creux de son ventre. Pas à l'encontre de ce JJ qui poursuivait son discours teinté d'une bonne dose de narcissisme, mais dirigée vers lui-même. Les pensées négatives sur lesquelles il avait mis un couvercle depuis l'intervention de Phichit refirent surface tel un geyser.Il ne connaissait qu'un moyen de les exorciser.Avec un rapide mot d'excuse, il se leva, puis, sourd aux questions de ses compagnons, il quitta les lieux. * Son refuge ne lui avait jamais paru si apaisant : le calme après la tempête de la journée. Il avait besoin de ce silence pour recharger ses batteries émotionnelles.En soupirant, il posa ses lunettes, s'adossa à un torii de pierre, puis invoqua Hebi-chan pour lui tenir compagnie. Il s'échauffa et, lorsqu'il se sentit prêt, il ferma les yeux, ouvrit son esprit à son ressenti de l'instant et des heures précédentes.L'anxiété, l'adrénaline, la joie, la déception, la défiance, la colère, l'amitié... tout se mélangeait en un maelström impossible à déméler.Parfait. D'après Minako-sensei, ses meilleures œuvres naissaient du chaos.Il improvisa quelques pas de danse simples pour commencer.Autour de lui, l'air frémit, s'illumina tel un nuage de lucioles, bourdonna doucement.Une arabesque.De multiples couleurs s'ajoutèrent aux lumières, gouttes d'encre diluées dans le paysage, qui se diffusaient, créaient de nouvelles nuances en se rencontrant. De l'aquarelle coulait du bout des doigts de Yuri, mettaient en valeur chacun de ses gestes. Un doux fredonnement emplit la nuit.Un grand jeté.Des formes abstraites enveloppèrent les autels du sanctuaire, s'accrochèrent aux murs de bambous, d'abord tranchantes comme du Mondrian, puis, peu à peu, versatiles comme du Kandinsky.À chaque mouvement de Yuri, formes et couleurs muaient, se déplaçaient, chantaient avec lui. Les statues inertes semblaient prendre vie pour former la compagnie de ballet qui mettait en valeur son solo. Hebi-chan volait autour de son corps, adaptait son éclat aux teintes créées par le jeune homme.La sérénité prit enfin le dessus sur les autres émotions, son oeuvre se colora alors de verts, l'entoura tel un second cocon protecteur dont la rumeur le berçait.Hors d'haleine, il s'arrêta et sa forêt abstraite oscilla dans l'air.- Yuri, chuchota une voix révérencieuse à la lisière de la bambouseraie, je n'avais jamais rien vu d'aussi beau.L'interpellé sursauta.L'image tourna au bleu surprise avant de s'évaporer dans la nuit. Le silence retomba d'un coup. Son familier se posa sur son épaule et Yuri se tourna vers le nouvel arrivant qui s'approcha doucement, comme pour prolonger le charme.Des larmes d'émotion brillaient dans son regard bleu.- Oh Elias, le reconnut le Japonais quand il fut assez près. Hum. Merci.- C'était magnifique. Comme si... comme si...Débordé par l'enthousiasme, il saisit les mains de Yuri, déstabilisant Hebi-chan qui s'envola en sifflant son mécontentement.- Ton corps chantait, dansait et peignait tout à la fois ! débita-t-il d'une seule traite. Comment s'appelle cet art ?- Hein ? Euh, odoriga. Minako-sensei en est la créatrice et me l'enseigne depuis que j'étudie à Mahoutokoro. Pas que ça serve à grand chose...- Ne dis pas ça !La réaction était si véhémente que Yuri sursauta. Ses yeux s'agrandirent et il se sentit soudain mal à l'aise sous l'intensité de ceux de son compagnon. Il tenta de retirer ses mains, mais Elias les tenaient fermement.- Tes oeuvres apportent du bonheur à ceux qui ont la chance de les contempler. C'est un pouvoir très précieux.Quelques instants, ils restèrent ainsi : face à face, les mains de l'un dans celles de l'autre, à se dévisager sans un mot.Puis, aussi soudainement qu'il lui était tombé dessus, Elias relâcha Yuri. Il se détourna et s'éloigna pour s'asseoir sur une marche du sanctuaire, tandis que Yuri remettait ses lunettes.- Beau match, remarqua le Finlandais sans regarder celui-ci.- Ah tu l'as vu ? Je ne t'ai pas croisé à l'entraînement.- Je sèche les entraînements, c'est barbant. Je ne suis que remplaçant de toute façon.- Ah bon ? Quel poste ?- Attrapeur.Silence éberlué tandis que Yuri le fixait, bouche bée.- Ah, évidemment... finit-il par balbutier. Avec Victor titulaire, tes chances de jouer...Il laissa sa phrase en suspens et Elias y répondit d'un grognement indistinct. Le jeune homme paraissait distrait, en plein monologue interne.Un nouveau silence tomba entre eux. Pas du type confortable dans lequel on se contentait d'apprécier la présence de l'autre. Non, ce silence-là était rempli de tensions et de non-dits. Le moindre bruissement de feuilles ou crissement d'insecte en devenait assourdissant.- Tu as l'air vraiment proche de votre batteur.Elias avait parlé d'un coup, sans prévenir - pas même un raclement de gorge ou un mouvement précurseur - et Yuri tourna la tête vers lui, surpris.- Phichit ? C'est mon meilleur ami.Le Finlandais le regarda enfin.- Nous sommes partenaires de dokushinjutsu, ajouta Yuri, ça nous rend d'autant plus proches.- De quoi ?- En Occident vous appelez ça légilimancie et occlumancie.- Vous étudiez ça à Mahoutokoro ? s'exclama Elias, bouche bée. C'est... invasif. Intime.- C'est un cours facultatif, qui suppose d'avoir un partenaire de confiance. Les deux élèves doivent avoir plus de treize ans et passer un serment inviolable pour se protéger mutuellement.- Quoi ?!À ces mots, l'élève de Durmstrang avait bondi sur ses pieds, scandalisé.- C'est insensé ! Un engagement aussi grave pour des... des... enfants !Il se passa les mains dans les cheveux qui se libérèrent en partie de l'élastique et retombèrent en vrac autour de son visage, masquant sa cicatrice. Yuri haussa les épaules.- C'est pourquoi c'est très encadré par les prof.- Donc... vous n'avez aucun secret l'un pour l'autre.- Très peu.Elias le dévisagea plusieurs minutes avec une intensité inconfortable sous laquelle Yuri s'agita. Le comportement de son compagnon le laissait perplexe.Enfin, Elias soupira, retira l'élastique de sa tignasse désordonnée et se rassit.- Pas étonnant que les Japonais soient réputés pour ces disciplines, marmonna-t-il.- Phichit est Thaïlandais.L'élastique entre les lèvres, les bras levés pour rassembler ses mèches en une queue de cheval, Elias se figea.- Attends, c'est quoi son nom de famille ?- Chulanont.- Comme le ministre Thaï ?De plus en plus déstabilisé par son mystérieux ami, Yuri se demanda combien d'Européen connaissaient le ministre de la magie d'un pays d'Asie du Sud-Est. Pour sa part, il aurait été bien en peine d'en citer plus de quatre ou cinq dans le monde en dehors du Japonais - en comptant les ministres Chulanont et Nikiforov. Elias devait fréquenter le gratin de la société des sorciers.- C'est son père.- Oh. Je vois. D'ailleurs, dit-il comme s'il avait une soudaine illumination, il se débrouille bien en occlumancie ?- C'est le meilleur, répondit Yuri, une pointe de fierté dans la voix.Avec ses cheveux enfin en place, Yuri pouvait détailler les traits de son compagnon : ceux-ci s'éclairèrent comme s'il venait de faire une bonne farce à quelqu'un.- Voilà pourquoi il parvient à bloquer la magie vélane de Christophe ! Si tu avais vu sa tête hier soir quand il en discutait avec Victor, ce Don Juan en était complètement déstabilisé.Il éclata d'un rire espiègle et communicatif. Yuri ne pouvait s'empêcher d'apprécier cet étrange garçon.- Mais je crois qu'il trouve le défi d'autant plus intéressant.Le sourire de Yuri s'effaça aussitôt.- Phichit n'est pas un trophée à ajouter à sa collection de conquêtes. S'il joue avec lui il n'arrivera plus à poser ses fesses sur un balai pendant des semaines, je te le garantis.Les yeux bleus devinrent sérieux à leur tour.- Protecteur, commenta simplement Elias.Yuri hocha la tête, l'expression déterminée, toute trace de son habituelle réserve envolée.- Mais, reprit son compagnon d'un ton léger en se levant, j'ai cru comprendre que ton ami savait se défendre.- L'occlumancie protège l'esprit. Pas le cœur.- Pas faux. On devrait rentrer, remarqua le Finlandais.Il tendit une main à Yuri pour l'aider à se relever. Celui-ci la considéra un instant avant de l'accepter avec précaution.Car Elias avait le don de déstabiliser ses émotions plus que quiconque auparavant.- Yuri, tu veux bien danser pour moi demain ?Il n'avait jamais dansé pour quelqu'un - en-dehors de son enseignante. L'odoriga était son moment intime dans lequel il déversait les tourments et les joies de son âme, son exutoire, son refuge. Même Phichit ne l'avait jamais vu dans ces instants là, juste quelques bribes de souvenirs. D'ailleurs Yuri ignorait si ses créations avait un quelconque intérêt pour d'autres personnes.La lueur d'espoir dans les yeux d'Elias répondit à cette dernière interrogation. Le jeune homme avait un côté chiot quémandeur qui arracha un petit rire à Yuri.Pour la première fois de sa vie, il avait envie de partager ce bout de lui-même. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Quelques mois plus tôt Si Yuri s'intéressait à peu près à tous les enseignements de Mahoutokoro, le cours de soin aux créatures magiques était son préféré. Entouré d'animaux, il se sentait dans son élément et cela compensait l'absence de son Vicchan. Son chien lui manquait, mais le jeune homme savait qu'il était mieux au onsen familial qu'à l'académie de magie.Toutes les créatures n'étaient pourtant pas sympathiques, certaines tenaient du yokai, et pas de ceux avec qui la négociation était possible. Les amikiri par exemple, genre d'hideux crustacés volants pouvaient sectionner un bras d'un seul claquement de pinces ; quant au kappa maintenu dans une rivière de l'île, il n'avait d'autre but que d'entraîner ses victimes au fond de l'eau pour leur arracher les entrailles.D'autres au contraire étaient attachantes, comme les demiguises. Les capacité d'invisibilité et de prédiction du futur immédiat de ces genres de singes gris les rendaient à la fois complexes à soigner et extrêmement précieux : leurs longs poils permettaient de tisser des capes d'invisibilité. L'espèce venait du Japon, aussi Mahoutokoro était le seul établissement scolaire à en abriter.Le cours du jour touchait à sa fin et les élèves le terminaient avec les cheveux en désordre et diverses égratignures, cadeaux de l'occamy qu'ils avaient déplacé vers un espace plus large et dégagé. L'animal avait profité de la nouvelle clairière au coeur de la jungle pour agrandir son corps serpentin de plusieurs mètres, avant de le réduire de nouveau en plein vol pour se glisser dans une cavité de deux centimètres de large entre deux rochers.Le professeur Tanaka, une femme rondelette à l'expression bienveillante, les félicita : les occamies étaient de nature agressive et l'opération s'était révélée délicate. Seuls les élèves de ce cours avancé de magizoologie étaient capables de la mener à bien.Sans réfléchir, Yuri tendit une main vers Haru, étalé dans l'herbe après une bousculade de la créature. Il vit son camarade hésiter un instant derrière sa frange noire et se rappela - trop tard - que le jeune homme d'un an son aîné ne l'avait jamais tellement apprécié."J'aurais mieux fait de rester en retrait," songea Yuri à cette réalisation, avec une soudaine pointe d'anxiété.Mais la main était déjà tendue, le geste ne pouvait être repris, et Haru l'accepta finalement en marmonnant un remerciement.- Katsuki-kun, intervint Tanaka-sensei, je vous laisse vous occuper d'Akari.Il répondit d'un hochement de tête enthousiaste et fila dans l'allée bordée de fougères arborescentes vers la partie du parc où se trouvaient les kitsune, ses créatures magiques préférées.Quelques mois plus tôt, il avait trouvé une renarde blanche blessée, jeune d'à peine plus de deux siècles à en croire ses trois queues, sur le point de mettre bas. Son familier avait alors dévoilé ses pouvoirs de guérison - rien de révolutionnaire, mais suffisants pour améliorer le pronostic vital - et le jeune homme avait pris soin de l'animal. Akari et les quatre petits nés peu après s'étaient ainsi attachés à Yuri.Hebi-chan vola autour de son maître qui se dirigeait à grands pas vers le coin de clairière où les kitsune avaient pris l'habitude de l'attendre. Cet espace, protégé par des barrières magiques, était entouré de jungle et bambouseraies dans lesquels les animaux pacifiques évoluaient librement.Les renardeaux accueillirent le serpent blanc en sautillant, Hebi-chan vola autour d'eux, et Akari vint se frotter aux jambes de Yuri.- Salut ma belle.Akari était trop jeune encore pour être un yokai à part entière comme le professeur de transfiguration de Mahoutokoro - ce kitsune-ci possédait neuf queues et devait avoisiner un millénaire -, mais déjà, elle était capable de produire des flammes en frottant ses queues entre elles. Il lui faudrait encore quelques siècles pour développer ses capacités de métamorphose.Avec des gestes rapides, Yuri nourrit les cinq kitsune, puis s'assit dans l'herbe près d'eux.Il avait un peu de temps avant son prochain cours pour les câliner et jouer avec les petits. * Jour présent Le premier match d'entraînement ouvrit la voie à d'autres et, chaque jour, les écoles se mélangèrent en diverses combinaisons. L'ambiance était à la fois à l'amitié et à la rivalité : les joueurs s'observaient, se jaugeaient, évaluaient les points faibles de leurs adversaires.Car personne n'oubliait que la première manche du tournoi serait annoncée quelques jours plus tard.Les autres joueurs constatèrent ainsi que l'assurance prétentieuse de JJ ne reposait pas que sur des mots : le Canadien était un redoutable batteur qui leur donna du fil à retordre lorsque Mahoutokoro s'associa à Castelobruxo.Yuri détesta immédiatement certains membres de l'équipe brésilienne, en particulier leur capitaine, Federico. Celui-ci faisait preuve d'un sexisme qui lui hérissait le poil, d'autant que les joueuses sur le terrain n'étaient pas là pour faire figuration. Et si Isabella d'Ilvermorny prenait les remarques et bousculades gratuites avec recul, Ana de Tituba dirigeait les cognards sur lui avec plus de rage que nécessaire.Cette fois Mahoutokoro se retrouva du côté des gagnants, mais la victoire laissa un goût amer à Yuri : le bel esprit sportif construit ces derniers jours avait été souillé par certains comportements. Il rangea son balai avec rage, ignora une nouvelle blague macho de Federico et son coéquipier Luc, puis marcha vers Phichit.En pleine conversation avec Christophe. "Il trouve le défi d'autant plus intéressant." Les mots d'Elias lui revinrent à l'esprit telle une claque. En observant le Thaïlandais nul ne pouvait deviner ce que cachait son sourire assuré, mais Yuri le connaissait comme personne : Phichit ne se contentait pas de bavarder avec le capitaine de Beauxbatons, il flirtait. Ses provocations étaient une stratégie - consciente ou non, Yuri l'ignorait - pour piquer l'intérêt d'un séducteur habitué aux conquêtes faciles.À en croire le langage corporel de Christophe, Elias avait vu juste : sa curiosité était aiguisée.Yuri n'aimait pas ça du tout. Il posa une main protectrice sur l'épaule de Phichit, interrompant sans remords leur discussion.- Leo et Guang-Hong nous attendent pour le repas, tu viens ?Il avait prononcé ces mots en soutenant le regard vert de Christophe en un avertissement muet. Ce dernier ouvrit la bouche pour lui répondre.Yuri ne saurait jamais ce que le Suisse s'apprêtait à lui dire. À cet instant précis, un autre séducteur notoire apparut aux côtés de son interlocuteur et posa ses yeux lagon sur lui avec un sourire.Jamais le Japonais n'avait pivoté plus rapidement sur ses talons pour fuir dans la direction opposée.Depuis leur défaite, il évitait Victor avec soin, malgré les quelques tentatives d'approche du Russe lors des entraînements. Yuri n'était pas prêt à parler - moins encore à jouer au quidditch - avec son idole, pas après ce rappel du chemin qu'il lui restait à parcourir pour le rattraper.Aussi s'éloigna-t-il à grands pas, entraînant son meilleur ami dans son sillage jusqu'à Leo, Guang-Hong et Ana.- Doucement Yuri, s'esclaffa Phichit, je sais qu'il y a du katsudon au menu mais pas besoin de courir.- C'est quoi ça ? demanda Leo.- Un plat calorique à base de côtelettes de porc panées, expliqua le Thaïlandais. Le préféré de Yuri.- Ah ! Je cherchais justement un surnom pour ce porc !Ils se retournèrent à cette remarque. Yurio les dévisageait, bras croisés et l'expression colérique. Yuri ne l'avait encore jamais vu autrement, à croire que le gamin en voulait à la Terre entière en permanence.Un sourire moqueur se dessina sur le visage du blondinet.- Il est hors de question que je t'appelle par mon prénom, tu seras Katsudon.- Techniquement c'était mon prénom en premier, remarqua Yuri, amusé.- On s'en cogne, cracha le Russe.- D'ailleurs rien ne t'oblige à m'adresser la parole.Les cheveux dorés semblèrent se hérisser comme les poils sur le dos d'un chat.- Tu crois quoi ? Que j'ai envie de te parler ? Tch !Il sembla soudain chercher quelque chose ou quelqu'un du regard, jusqu'à ce que ses yeux s'arrêtent derrière Phichit et que son visage s'éclaire d'une soudaine illumination.- Otabek ! appela-t-il son coéquipier. Je t'ai trouvé un spécialiste pour t'apprendre à manger avec des baguettes. Tu sais, tu m'as dit que tu galérais l'autre jour.Le Kazakh dévisagea Yurio un instant ; Phichit retint un fou rire face à ce prétexte manifestement improvisé. L'expression d'Otabek ne se modifia pourtant pas d'un iota et il se contenta de hocher la tête avant de leur emboîter le pas.- Alors Yurio, commença le Thaïlandais en passant un bras sur lui, vous êtes... proches Otabek et toi ?Le Russe se libéra d'un haussement d'épaules, jeta un nouveau regard noir à la ronde.- T'insinues quoi ?- Mais rien du tout.Phichit le gratifia de son sourire le plus innocent et Yuri pouffa, détournant le courroux de Yurio sur lui.- Pas encore, répondit Otabek d'une voix tranquille à la question initiale, je croyais qu'il ne connaissait même pas mon nom.Sa couverture grillée, le blondinet vira cramoisi, marmonna un truc incompréhensible derrière ses mèches - Yuri et Phichit ricanèrent de plus belle -, avant de jeter un regard en coin à son coéquipier.Ce dernier haussa les épaules comme pour signifier que c'était sans importance, puis le dévisagea.- Vas-tu devenir ami avec moi ou pas ?- Oooooh, c'est mignon, fit Phichit.Il esquiva un coup de pied de Yurio en riant, puis rejoignit Guang-Hong pour discuter de sa dernière photo sur Magiscroll, laissant les deux élèves de Durmstrang intégrer leur groupe comme s'il n'y avait rien de plus naturel. * Comme Elias le lui avait demandé, Yuri dansa pour lui, chaque soir dans l'intimité du sanctuaire au coeur des bambous. Jusqu'alors, il n'avait jamais pratiqué l'odoriga que pour lui-même, n'avait montré ses oeuvres éphémères qu'à son enseignante.La nervosité laissa bien vite place à un nouveau plaisir : celui de partager son art. Il exposait ainsi une part de son âme au regard émerveillé d'un autre et il se sentait... beau.La sensation était à la fois grisante et troublante.Alors que Yuri illuminait la nuit d'une pirouette, le regard bleu du Finlandais brilla d'une lueur qu'il ne parvenait pas bien à comprendre, mais qui le déstabilisa un instant. Ses émotions modifièrent les couleurs autour de lui, estompèrent les contours et la musique eut un raté. Comme un mélange de notes joyeuses et effrayantes.Alors il ferma ses propres yeux pour s'immerger dans son art. Dansa jusqu'à en perdre haleine.Lorsqu'il s'arrêta Elias applaudit si soudainement que Yuri eut l'impression de se réveiller en sursaut.- C'est incroyable Yuri ! Je pourrais te regarder des heures entières sans me lasser !Le compliment le fit rougir jusqu'à la pointe des oreilles.- Merci, répondit-il simplement.Il attrapa la bouteille d'eau que son compagnon lui tendait, se laissa tomber à ses côtés et replaça ses lunettes sur son nez.- Tu pourrais facilement devenir pro, tu sais.La remarque était si inattendue que Yuri avala de travers. Il toussa quelques instants avant de retrouver l'usage de sa voix.- Drôle d'idée.- Pourquoi ? Il y a des écoles pour les artistes aussi chez les sorciers.- Ah, eh bien...À ce jour, seul Phichit connaissait l'ambition secrète de Yuri. Il hésitait à la formuler à voix haute, de peur qu'elle ne s'envole, aussi éphémère que ses créations.L'expression de franche curiosité d'Elias le décida cependant à s'ouvrir à lui.- Mon rêve est de devenir joueur de quidditch pro. D'intégrer l'équipe nationale.Il rougit. Baissa les yeux. Attendit une moquerie ou, pire, une remarque qui le prendrait en pitié. Lui conseillerait d'abandonner pour ne pas tomber de trop haut. Pourtant Yuri savait qu'il en était capable, d'ailleurs il avait déjà envoyé sa candidature pour cette année. Quand il aurait attrapé un vif d'or dans un match officiel sous le nez du Victor Nikiforov, les sélectionneurs n'auraient d'autre choix que de l'accueillir à bras ouverts.- Mais Yuri - celui-ci se crispa un peu plus en attendant la suite -, qu'est-ce qui t'empêche de faire les deux ?Bouche bée, Yuri releva la tête d'un mouvement vif, dévisagea son ami comme s'il venait de lui suggérer des vacances sur Jupiter.- Hein ?Tout ce que son cerveau put rassembler de répartie se concentra dans ce coassement inélégant. Non seulement Elias ne semblait pas estimer l'idée ridicule, mais il lui suggérait de poursuivre une double ambition d'excellence. Comme s'il ne doutait pas un instant des compétences de Yuri.- Tu peux suivre des études d'art en étant membre de l'équipe nationale. La plupart des joueurs sont étudiants ou pratiquent une autre activité professionnelle en parallèle.Yuri le savait bien sûr, mais n'y avait jamais réfléchi. Il retira ses lunettes pour les essuyer sur son haori, histoire d'occuper ses mains un instant. Le geste était d'autant plus inutile que ses verres avaient reçu un traitement magique qui les maintenait limpides en toutes circonstances.- Oui, maintenant que tu le dis. Après tout Victor est déjà dans l'équipe russe et toujours à Durmstrang.Un silence lui répondit et Yuri réalisa soudain que ses mots étaient peut-être malvenus auprès de l'attrapeur remplaçant. Lui et sa manie de commettre des gaffes.Sans oser regarder Elias, il chercha un autre sujet de conversation, mais se fit devancer.- Au fait ça m'intrigue, commença le Finlandais, tu n'as pas besoin de baguette pour l'odoriga ?Le sujet était revenu sur un terrain familier et confortable. Yuri rechaussa ses lunettes et se tourna de nouveau vers son compagnon.- Au début si, comme pour tout sort. J'ai appris ensuite à utiliser la magie non verbale, puis à me passer de baguette pour plus de liberté de mouvement.Elias le dévisagea, bouche bée. Une expression de choc extrême agrandissait ses yeux bleus - un peu plus foncés que ceux de Victor remarqua Yuri malgré lui.- Quoi ? demanda ce dernier en s'agitant, mal à l'aise devant cette réaction.- Eh bien... En fait, je n'avais pas réalisé.- Réalisé ?- Que tu pratiquais une magie aussi avancée. C'est évident quand on te voit faire maintenant que j'y pense, mais c'est tellement... incroyable ! Tu es vraiment plein de surprises Yuri.Le "r" de son nom roula sur la langue du Scandinave, Yuri frissonna et rougit.Il se leva d'un bond pour masquer son embarras.- J'ai encore envie de danser, tu veux voir ? * La cohabitation des différentes écoles engendra une saine émulation entre les élèves, aussi bien pour le quidditch que les activités académiques. Les partages entre établissements permirent aux jeunes de découvrir de nouvelles disciplines ou des approches différentes à celles déjà étudiées.À Mahoutokoro, les cours étaient répartis selon les niveaux plutôt que les âges : ce système permettait à chaque élève de développer pleinement son potentiel, d'approfondir ses points forts. Ainsi Minami avait une prédilection pour les potions et suivait le même cours que Phichit d'un an son aîné. De la même manière, Leo et Ana rejoignirent la magizoologie avancée aux côtés de Yuri. Leurs connaissances des créatures du continent américain furent un ajout passionnant aux cours habituels ; de leurs côtés, ils en apprirent plus sur la faune endémique du Japon. Les deux amis étaient aussi compétents l'un que l'autre malgré leurs caractères opposés : si Leo était d'un calme imperturbable, Ana possédait un tempérament de feu. Mais la même bienveillance les caractérisaient et Yuri les appréciait de plus en plus au fil des jours.À cet emploi du temps à la carte - qui devait déjà donner la migraine aux professeurs à organiser - s'ajouta les options offertes par les établissements étrangers. Yuri s'inscrivit à l'initiation au chamanisme proposé par Ilvermorny, ainsi qu'au cours avancé de magie manuelle de Uagadou. L'école africaine était mondialement réputée pour sa maîtrise de la magie sans baguette et le jeune homme espérait ainsi étendre sa compétence hors de l'odoriga. Il n'avait pas envisagé de suivre cette discipline avant sa conversation avec Elias.Les amitiés se nouèrent ainsi au gré des entraînements, des cours communs et des temps libres. Leur propre groupe devint de plus en plus international, la présence de Leo entraîna Ana, celle de Yurio et Otabek attira Mila, qui elle-même traînait avec Sara. Le sourire éclatant de Phichit facilitait les liens et Yuri songea qu'il ferait un diplomate du tonnerre sur les pas de son père.Son meilleur ami était d'ailleurs une source de potins inépuisable et le Japonais en apprenait plus qu'il ne le souhaitait vraiment.- Tu sais que Georgi de Durmstrang sort avec Anya de Koldovstoretz ? lui dit-il sur le ton de la conspiration lors d'une pause dans le foyer des élèves.À vrai dire, Yuri ignorait qui était cette Anya, mais se contenta d'un "ah oui ?" pseudo-intéressé.- Je crois qu'ils se connaissaient avant, poursuivit Phichit comme si le sujet passionnait son meilleur ami autant que lui, après tout ils sont Russes tous les deux. Et puis Durmstrang et Koldovstoretz se rencontrent souvent en matchs amicaux - Durmstrang soit être la seule équipe qui accepte de jouer contre eux, même s'ils sont sur des arbres -, mais là ils se sont rapprochés et...- Attends, quoi ?La tête de Yuri tournait. Trop d'informations.- Euh... ils sont Russes tous les deux ?- Non pas ça. La partie sur les arbres.- Aaaah ça ? À Koldovstoretz ils jouent au quidditch en volant sur des arbres. Entiers je veux dire. Déracinés.Yuri dévisagea Phichit, bouche bée. Il ignorait s'il était plus éberlué par les informations elles-mêmes ou la quantité que son compagnon pouvait emmagasiner.- Mais pour les compétitions officielles, ils sont obligés de passer aux balais. Peu importe, ajouta-t-il avec un geste de la main pour écarter ce détail, ce que je veux dire c'est que toutes les conditions sont réunies pour déclencher l'étincelle.- L'étincelle ?Cette fois, Yuri était bel et bien perdu. Il y avait sûrement un cheminement logique dans les connexions neuronales de son meilleur ami, mais il lui échappait totalement. Il se contenta de dévisager le Thaïlandais d'un air idiot.- Mais la romance Yuri ! Victor est juste là, sous ton nez.- Chhhhhut pas si fort !Il jeta un coup d'œil inquiet autour d'eux : à quelques pas les jumelles Fumi et Yuki discutaient avec Minami - ses cheveux et son oiseaux étaient bleu électrique aujourd'hui -, Yuuko travaillait sur une dissertation avec Takeshi, et quelques élèves étrangers se préparaient pour le prochain cours.- Je ne vois pas Victor comme ça, siffla Yuri entre ses dents.Phichit lui lança un regard qui hurlait "et moi je suis la reine d'Angleterre" accompagné de son sourire le plus sceptique.- Tu vas être en retard, ajouta-t-il avant que le Thaïlandais n'ait le temps de poursuivre cette conversation.Celui-ci se leva, attrapa son sac, installa ses hamsters dans un repli de sa ceinture.- Ouais, ouais. N'oublie pas que j'ai d'autres moyens de percer à jour ta mauvaise foi.- Je risque pas d'oublier, marmonna Yuri.Lorsque Phichit eut quitté les lieux, le jeune homme s'installa dans le coin de la salle de repos, mettant le trou dans son emploi du temps à profit pour réviser. Il retira son haori, remarqua un reflet métallique dans le dos qui n'était pas là quelques jours plus tôt - le vêtement évoluait sous l'effet de ses nouvelles connaissances -, puis s'adossa au panneau de bois, contre le sakura qui y était peint. Ce lieu était son préféré lorsque le climat était à la pluie tropicale comme aujourd'hui et qu'il ne pouvait rester dehors, le tronc de l'arbre semblait réel contre son dos et ses fleurs éternellement épanouies parfumaient l'atmosphère.- Oi, Katsudon !Yuri leva le nez de son livre. Il s'attendait à trouver le jeune Russe les bras croisés dans une attitude défensive, mais ces derniers étaient occupés par une boule de poils ronronnante. Un vrai moteur d'avion.Le garçon se laissa tomber à côté de Yuri qui tendit la main vers le Sibérien colourpoint. Bien plus aimable que son maître, le chat frotta sa joue sur les doigts tendus, ronronna de plus belle.- Il est superbe.Le commentaire provoqua un mini-miracle : Yurio lui sourit.Lorsqu'il abaissait ainsi ses piquants de hérisson, il avait l'air d'un ange. Et d'un garçon de treize ans normal.- Puma Tiger Scorpion, présenta-t-il son compagnon à poils.Yuri cligna des yeux, repoussa ses lunettes d'un doigts, étouffa un rire.- C'est pas un peu long ?- La ferme ! C'est un nom badass, un looser comme toi ne peut pas piger.Loin de s'effrayer du mouvement d'humeur de son cadet, Yuri sourit de plus belle. Il avait constaté que le chaton blond crachait beaucoup mais ne griffait pas. À dire vrai, il commençait à apprécier le gamin et avait l'impression que le sentiment était réciproque.Mais Yurio préférerait probablement s'arracher un bras plutôt que de l'admettre.- Tch ! poursuivit celui-ci. La version courte c'est Potya, tu crois que ton vieux cerveau retiendra ?- Ça doit être dans mes cordes, s'amusa son compagnon.- Au fait, la séance d'information sur les animagi ne t'intéresse pas ?L'auto-transfiguration était la seconde spécialité de Uagadou, dont une part non négligeable des élèves - bien plus importante que dans les autres établissements - choisissait de devenir animagus.- Non, ça ne me tente pas. Et je dois faire des choix dans mon emploi du temps, entre les cours habituels, les nouvelles options, les entraînements et... - il hésita un instant, choisit de taire le contenu de ses soirées - le reste, je ne peux pas tout faire. Et toi ?De nouveau, Yurio sourit, mais avec arrogance à présent.- Je suis déjà enregistré comme animagus.La mâchoire de Yuri manqua de se décrocher.- À ton âge ?!- Le plus jeune jamais connu à Durmstrang. La classe non ?- Si. Impressionnant même.Au compliment, Yurio rayonna de fierté. Puis, aussi brusquement que son visage s'était éclairé, il se referma en posant les yeux sur l'angle opposé de la large pièce.- Tu sais qui d'autre n'est pas à cette réunion ? Victor. Il est au-dessus de ça, ajouta-t-il, amer.Yuri suivit la direction de son regard : en effet, le cousin du garçon se trouvait dans la pièce, pour une fois seul avec son chien - d'ordinaire il était entouré de certains coéquipiers et parfois Yuri le remarquait en compagnie de Christophe. Le coeur du Japonais eut soudain des ratés et il sembla sur le point de bondir hors de sa cage thoracique.Bien que quasi-déserte, la salle était grande, donnant à Yuri l'espoir de continuer à l'éviter.C'était sans compter sur Makkachin.Le grand caniche le repéra, traversa la pièce au triple-galop et bondit pour lui repeindre le visage de sa langue baveuse, lui arrachant un éclat de rire. Dans les bras de son maître, Potya cracha, plus contrarié qu'apeuré.- Makkachin ! l'appela une voix à l'accent slave.- Bien, je file Katsudon.Sous les assauts amicaux du chien, Yuri avait presque oublié la présence de Victor, caché de l'autre côté du tas de poils frisés. Le départ précipité de Yurio le lui rappela tel un saut d'eau glacée.- Non, attends ! Yurio !Un nouveau coup de langue, dans le cou cette fois.- Ça chatouille ! pouffa Yuri malgré son état de tension.- Désolé, intervint Victor en attrapant Makkachin pour l'éloigner de sa victime, il est parfois un peu trop démonstratif.Comme pour donner raison à son maître, l'animal se laissa tomber sur le dos, offrant son ventre aux caresses. Avec un sourire amusé, Yuri lui donna satisfaction.- Non pas de souci.Une gratouille bien placée provoqua un mouvement de patte arrière du caniche.- Il t'apprécie vraiment.Yuri osa enfin redresser la tête pour croiser les yeux lagon. Pendant un instant, il oublia qu'il se trouvait devant l'objet de son admiration, il oublia qu'il essayait de l'éviter tant il se sentait encore inférieur à lui, il oublia que son coeur tendait à faire le yo-yo en sa présence. Tout ce qu'il vit était un jeune homme comme lui, avec les mêmes centres d'intérêt, et il caressa l'idée folle d'entamer une conversation.Puis son anxiété revint à la charge et il envisagea plutôt de fuir à toutes jambes. Une fois de plus.Quelque chose dans son regard dut le trahir, car l'expression de Victor se modifia et il posa une main sur celle de Yuri pour le retenir.Ses doigts étaient frais sur les siens. Surtout lorsque sa peau vira au rouge embarras.Il recula précipitamment : son dos se cogna au panneau de bois et des pétales de sakura volèrent sur la peinture. Ses lunettes se retrouvèrent de travers sur son nez et un tic nerveux fit tressauter le coin de son oeil gauche.- Pourquoi tu m'évites ?- Ah, euh, pour rien. Rien du tout.Victor pencha la tête sur le côté, se tapota la bouche de l'index.- J'essaye de te parler depuis le match mais tu es plus insaisissable qu'un vif d'or. Heureusement, les attraper, c'est ma spécialité.À ces mots, il lui flasha son sourire magazine accompagné d'un clin d'œil. Yuri était certain d'avoir brûlé sa rétine au passage. Trop éblouissant.- Oui. Euh. Effectivement."Repartie absolument brillante", pensa-t-il, sarcastique, dans un coin de cerveau qui par miracle fonctionnait encore. "Il ne va pas du tout continuer à penser que je suis un minable."- Yuuuri, ronronna Victor en se rapprochant - "oh my God, il est trop près, beaucoup trop près" s'affola le Japonais - je veux tout savoir sur toi. Qu'est-ce que tu aimes ? Est-ce qu'il y a quelqu'un qui te plaît ? Profitons de ces quelques mois pour apprendre à nous connaître.Il devait rêver, il ne voyait pas d'autre explication. Ou bien il avait perdu l'esprit, pas impossible non plus.- Ah... euh... balbutia-t-il. OK.Le visage de Victor s'illumina : la bouche en coeur et des diamants dans les yeux, pour la première fois Yuri le trouva adorable. Pas juste superbement inaccessible. Devant lui se trouvait un Victor qu'il n'avait jamais vu dans les magazines, ni à aucun de ces moments où il l'avait observé en douce.L'enthousiasme de son compagnon était contagieux et Yuri se surprit à sourire à son tour. Un peu de rose colora alors les joues de Victor.De nouveau gêné, Yuri se détourna pour ranger son livre.- Par contre là j'ai cours d'herbologie. Et vu que la prof me déteste, j'ai pas intérêt à arriver en retard.Il tendit la main vers son haori mais Victor le devança : il prit la veste et la présenta à Yuri pour l'aider à l'enfiler.Le geste était si inattendu que ce dernier se figea un instant avant de comprendre. Il marmonna un remerciement timide, puis passa ses bras dans les manches.Il lui restait encore un long chemin à parcourir pour se détendre en présence de Victor. * Cours - entraînement - danse : cela faisait à présent une dizaine de jours que l'emploi du temps de Yuri s'enchaînait ainsi. Malgré la fatigue, il appréciait ses soirées dans son sanctuaire avec Elias. Ces moments l'apaisaient, le distrayaient des tensions de la journée : Victor, les répartitions des premiers matchs qui seraient annoncées le lendemain, le cours d'herbologie avec Mori-sensei... Il dansait, discutait un peu avec Elias, parfois dansait de nouveau.Le jeune Finlandais restait un mystère, même après plusieurs heures à ses côtés. Elias parlait peu de lui et Yuri n'était pas du genre à pousser ses interlocuteurs à la confidence.Yeux fermés, bras ouverts, Yuri laissa la magie de l'odoriga le traverser, exorciser son trop-plein d'émotions. Il n'avait pas besoin de mots pour se dévoiler à son compagnon : ce qu'il peignait, ses mouvements, la musique qu'il créait avec son corps parlaient à sa place.Un cri déchira soudain la nuit. Les couleurs éclatèrent comme une bulle de savon. Yuri ouvrit les yeux brusquement.Le hurlement d'agonie n'avait rien d'humain. Une angoisse frappa Yuri au ventre comme un uppercut, lui coupa la respiration, le figea un instant.Puis l'adrénaline l'envahit, ses jambes se mirent en mouvement d'elles-mêmes, actionnées par un sinistre pressentiment. Sourd aux appels d'Elias, il courut aussi vite qu'il le pouvait. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Quelques mois plus tôt Une fois encore, Yuri tendit sa baguette devant lui, se concentra sur des souvenirs joyeux.La découverte de sa qualité de sorcier. Son premier vol sur un balai. Des moments partagés avec Phichit. La danse. Sa rencontre avec son familier.- Expecto Patronum.Des pensées parasitèrent les précédentes. Les préjugés d'autres élèves à son encontre. Une chute lors d'un match de quidditch. Une séance d'odoriga un jour où il avait eu besoin de décharger son stress. Chaque moment heureux lui rappelait aussi un échec, le tout lié dans son esprit par association d'idées.Arriva donc ce qui devait arriver : une maigre fumée s'écoula mollement de la pointe de sa baguette avant de s'évaporer.- Encore... soupira-t-il."C'est un sort difficile", temporisa Hebi-chan d'une voix somnolente sans même ouvrir un oeil.Enroulé sur lui-même dans l'herbe, le yokai venait d'utiliser son pouvoir de guérison sur Akari et l'opération le laissait chaque fois épuisé. L'état du kitsune évoluait cependant correctement et son ventre enflé était bientôt à maturité : d'après Tanaka-sensei la mise bas arriverait dans les prochains jours.La renarde jappa, puis glissa la tête sous le bras du jeune homme pour recevoir des caresses. Elle frotta ses trois queues l'une contre l'autre, créa une flamme en forme de serpent à l'image d'Hebi-chan.Yuri sourit, posa une main douce sur son flanc sous lequel s'agitaient de petites vies.- Oui, voilà, j'essaye de créer quelque chose comme ça. Mais tu es bien plus douée que moi Akari. * Jour présent L'air lui manquait. Yuri ignorait si c'était le résultat de sa folle course à travers la jungle ou de l'angoisse qui lui comprimait la poitrine. Le sang pulsait à ses oreilles, couvrant les appels d'Elias derrière lui. La végétation défilait autour de lui, floue sous l'effet de la vitesse et de sa myopie conjuguée : dans la précipitation il avait laissé ses lunettes dans le sanctuaire. Un nuage passa devant la lune et l'île devint plus lugubre encore.Quelques autres élèves s'étaient figés dans les jardins de l'académie, leurs yeux agrandis de peur et de surprise mêlées. Yuri les dépassa tous sans ralentir, ignora Yurio qui tenait son chat terrorisé dans les bras, debout près d'Otabek.- Bordel, il se passe quoi Katsudon ?La question s'évapora dans la nuit soudain redevenue silencieuse comme une tombe. Loin de rassurer Yuri, ce calme suspect renforça son mauvais pressentiment. Il poursuivit sa course jusqu'à la clairière protégée par les immenses bambous et les sorts.Normalement. Or il ne percevait plus ces derniers.- Elias ? s'écria Yurio derrière lui.Le ton agressif, le blondinet adressa une suite de mots en russe à son coéquipier. Ce dernier lui répondit sèchement dans la même langue, commune aux élèves de Durmstrang. Il ponctua sa dernière phrase d'un "Yuri" glacial.Jamais le Japonais ne l'avait entendu parler si froidement. Son nom - même s'il s'agissait en réalité de celui de son cadet - prononcé ainsi, tranchant et furieux, sonnait faux dans la bouche d'Elias. Malgré lui, malgré les circonstances, cette pensée fit mal à Yuri, lui montra combien son ami était encore un inconnu.Mais il n'avait pas le temps de s'éterniser sur ce point.Dans l'herbe, le flanc ensanglanté, Akari était étendue, inerte, au centre d'un cercle de sel. Cinq bougies étaient disposées sur sa circonférence, et un pentacle brillait dans l'air au-dessus du corps sacrifié.Yuri se laissa tomber à genoux, renversant l'une des bougies. Le pentacle disparut alors en même temps que les flammes et ne resta plus que la lumière de la pleine lune pour éclairer la clairière. La fumée mêla son parfum à celle, métallique, du liquide carmin qui coulait sur les flancs d'Akari. Autour d'elle les renardeaux couinaient en tournant nerveusement, perdus.Dans son dos, Yurio gronda de nouveaux entre ses dents contre Elias, insconcient du drame à quelques pas de lui.- Yura, tenta de temporiser Otabek.La voix calme de ce dernier aida bien plus sûrement Yuri à agir que les questions insistantes ou les querelles de ses deux autres compagnons. Il imaginait sans mal le regard noir du cadet de l'équipe russe à l'arrière de son crâne, mais s'en contrefichait plus que jamais.Agenouillé devant Akari, il pressa ses mains sur la plaie béante, tenta d'arrêter l'hémorragie. Le liquide chaud coula sur ses doigts, s'en échappa. Un renardeau lui lécha le poignet, les autres se blottirent contre lui, tremblants et gémissants. Il pouvait la sauver, il l'avait déjà fait, ce n'était pas trop tard, il devait...- Hebi-chan, supplia-t-il.Le serpent l'avait aidé à soigner la renarde, ça avait fonctionné une fois, il pouvait encore...Son familier se frotta sur la joue de son maître : ses pouvoirs ne pouvaient ramener un être d'entre les morts.- Non !Le cri de déni lui avait échappé, la partie rationnelle de son cerveau comprenait qu'il n'y avait plus rien à faire, mais il refusait de renoncer.Un juron russe. Yurio venait enfin de comprendre sur quoi son homonyme était penché.- Yuri... l'appela une voix douce. Yuri...Celui-ci fixait ses doigts rouges, toujours pressés sur le kitsune, sans les voir vraiment, les joues baignées de larmes qui coulaient sans un bruit.Des mains se posèrent sur ses épaules. Le contact le sortit un instant de son état de choc. Il leva le visage vers Elias qui le fixait avec une lueur inquiète dans ses yeux bleus.- Yuri, c'est trop tard.Juste un murmure. Mais il lui fit l'effet d'une gifle.- Merde, jura Yurio, c'est pour ça que Potya était nerveux.Comme pour confirmer, le chat miaula plaintivement dans les bras de son maître, puis en sauta et fila entre deux fougères arborescentes.Des bruits de pas pressés. Des conversations étouffées. Plusieurs groupes d'adolescents débarquèrent à leur tour sur les lieux. Les questions fusèrent, Elias et Yurio répondirent.Yuri en était incapable. Il était toujours agenouillé dans l'herbe, sonné. Les renardeaux se serrèrent un peu plus contre ses cuisses et il les caressa sans réfléchir, laissant des traînées carmin dans leur fourrure blanche.Un sifflement lui fit enfin lever les yeux vers les autres élèves pour voir un aigle argenté atterrir sur le poing d'Otabek.- Il a repéré quelque chose ? lui demanda Yurio.Le Kazakh secoua la tête, l'air grave et son patronus s'évapora dans la nuit. L'adolescent l'avait envoyé survoler les environs dans l'espoir de découvrir les coupables, sans succès. Sa maîtrise d'une magie aussi avancée ne surprit pas Yuri : ce qu'il avait observé de la personnalité d'Otabek démontrait un coeur calme et pur, condition indispensable pour réussir le sort de Patronus.L'absence de piste rendit les élèves un peu plus nerveux, les conversations s'agitèrent de plus belle. Marc de Beauxbatons jeta un coup d'œil par-dessus l'épaule de Yuri.- On dirait du vaudou des Caraïbes non ?Son regard se coula vers les quelques élèves de Tituba, l'accusation limpide. Ana se jeta vers lui, retenue par Leo de justesse. À défaut de pouvoir lui faire manger son poing comme elle en avait manifestement l'intention, elle l'abreuva d'une bordée d'injures dans sa langue maternelle.Christophe s'interposa entre elle et son batteur.- Marc, tu ne peux pas lancer des accusations aussi graves au hasard.Bien que sonné, Yuri nota l'intervention dans un coin de son esprit et la cote de sympathie du Suisse augmenta.Un moment d'énervement. Des accusations volèrent d'un groupe à l'autre, sans le moindre fondement, juste pour décharger les tensions vers les autres.- Et le fameux Victor Nikiforov au fait ? glissa Dimitri par-dessus la rumeur. Il est étrangement absent là non ?L'hostilité du capitaine de Koldovstoretz vis à vis de son compatriote scolarisé à Durmstrang n'était un secret pour personne. Mais l'accusation gratuite représentait une véritable déclaration de guerre.- Ublyudok ! hurla Yurio en se ruant vers lui.Déjà Elias s'avançait pour l'arrêter, mais Yuri fut plus rapide. En un instant, il se retrouva sur ses pieds, une main ferme autour du poignet de son cadet. Les renardeaux gémirent et Hebi-chan les entoura de son long corps pour les rassurer.- Lâche-moi Katsudon ! Cet enfoiré a insulté mon cousin.- Je sais.Le ton du Japonais était si tranchant que son compagnon se figea et l'assemblée eut un mouvement de recul instinctif.Le regard brun d'ordinaire si doux se posa sur Dimitri, plus glacial que tous les hivers de sa Russie natale. Sans un mot, Yuri écarta Yurio, s'avança vers l'agresseur.Des étincelles rouge colère jaillirent du bout de ses doigts sans qu'il les contrôle, le nimbèrent d'une aura menaçante, bien loin de sa discrétion coutumière. Les autres élèves firent un nouveau pas en arrière.Il attrapa Dimitri par le col. Les flammèches qui fusaient des mains de Yuri éclairèrent le visage blême de sa victime. L'air gronda de sons menaçants.- Au lieu de débiter des conneries, tu vas bouger ton cul pour aller chercher des profs. Compris ?Le ton glacial formait un saisissant contraste avec son apparence flamboyante. Des flammes sans odeur, sans chaleur, mais qui paraissaient tout aussi mortelles que les vraies.Bouche bée, le Russe se contenta de hocher la tête. Yuri le relâcha : une traînée de sang tachait l'uniforme de Dimitri. Ce dernier vacilla un instant, puis fila sans demander son reste.Toujours furieux, Yuri embrassa l'assemblée du regard, cru déceler une lueur admirative dans certains yeux, dont ceux d'Elias. Ça lui était bien égal : en cet instant il se moquait de ce que les autres pouvait penser de lui.- Si vous n'avez rien à faire ici, partez.Puis, il tourna le dos au cercle d'élèves, avec l'intime certitude d'être obéi.En effet, la foule se dispersa, seuls restèrent Elias, Otabek et Yurio. Pour une fois ce dernier avait abandonné tout signe d'hostilité et ressemblait simplement à un enfant perdu.- C'est horrible, murmura-t-il. Qui a pu faire ça ?Yuri se laissa tomber dans l'herbe, serra les renardeaux dans ses bras, puis secoua la tête en signe d'impuissance.- Mets ton Potya en sécurité Yurio, répondit-il à la place.Plusieurs professeurs arrivèrent peu après et prirent alors plusieurs mesures d'urgence. Tandis que certains adultes s'assuraient de la sécurité des élèves, priés de rejoindre les dortoirs avant le couvre-feu à titre exceptionnel, d'autres fouillaient la scène du crime.La principale emmena Yuri à part pour entendre son témoignage et le jeune homme la suivit en silence, les quatre renardeaux dans les bras, Hebi-chan sur l'épaule qui luisait d'un gris triste. Minako n'émit aucune remarque contre la présence des jeunes kitsune dans son bureau, qui n'étaient, du reste, pas en état de s'y ébattre. Dans leur état normal, les créatures auraient probablement sauté sur les meubles, renversé les papiers proprement empilés ou reniflé les bibliothèques rangées au carré avant de tenter de gratter le sol de bambou.Entouré de cet environnement ordonné, aux panneaux de bois où volaient des dragons immaculés et bruissaient des bambous dorés, le garçon taché de sang qui serrait les animaux contre son coeur semblait incongru. Tremblants, les renardeaux couinaient doucement.Après un rapide coup d'œil à son protégé, Minako se tourna vers l'un des dragons.- Va prévenir le ministère des évènements de ce soir.La créature opina de son immense gueule, puis disparut du mur. Yuri comprit alors qu'un panneau de bois jumeau se trouvait au ministère de la magie à Tokyo et permettait ainsi une communication avec l'école de magie. Tête baissée sur les animaux sur ses genoux, il vit la principale approcher du coin de l'œil.Alors qu'elle levait une main, une fumée argentée apparut, enveloppa les renardeaux qui s'endormirent.- Tanaka-sensei va venir prendre soin d'eux dès que possible.Yuri se redressa enfin pour la dévisager, l'expression perdue.- Mais...- Elle va s'assurer de leur sécurité personnellement Yuri, c'est promis.Le ton était bienveillant mais ferme : la principale n'avait jamais traité Yuri comme un garçon fragile, elle n'allait pas commencer maintenant, peu importe les circonstances. Il lui en était reconnaissant, car cette attitude l'aiderait à surmonter sa tristesse plus sûrement que des cajoleries.D'un nouveau geste de la main, elle nettoya les taches de sang sur son élève, puis s'installa de l'autre côté du bureau pour écouter son récit. Yuri lui relata les fait d'une voix neutre, répondit de son mieux à ses questions.- Ce cercle, demanda-t-il enfin, qu'est-ce que c'était ?- Une forme de magie interdite, comme toutes celles qui impliquent un sacrifice.Yuri serra les poings contre la fourrure blanche des kitsune inconscients. Ainsi Akari n'avait été qu'un ingrédient ?- Dans quel but ?Il devait savoir pourquoi la douce renarde était morte.- Supprimer les barrières magiques.Les yeux de Yuri s'agrandirent.- Toutes celles de l'île ?- Nous allons devoir vérifier, mais je ne pense pas que le sort était assez puissant pour ça. Au moins celles qui protégeaient les créatures magiques. Ou les élèves de celles-ci, ajouta-t-elle en grimaçant, c'est ce qui retient Tanaka-sensei en ce moment.En effet, un kappa en liberté au milieu d'enfants pouvait faire des dégâts et il n'était pas le seul. Heureusement les plus jeunes étaient déjà rentrés chez eux, mais tous les plus de onze ans étaient pensionnaires, sans compter les invités étrangers.- Je peux aider à rattraper des créatures, proposa le jeune homme.Sans laisser à son interlocutrice le temps de répondre, il se leva pour déposer ses quatre protégés dans un coin de la pièce. Sur le mur un dragon vint flotter au-dessus du petit tas de poils blancs, curieux. Il échangea un regard avec Hebi-chan, puis reprit son ballet aérien sur les panneaux de bois.- Yuri, intervint Minako, tu es sûr d'être en état ?- Certain. Je fais partie des meilleurs élèves en magizoologie, je peux gérer.À son tour, la principale se leva, rejoignit le jeune homme, les sourcils froncés.- Ce n'est pas ce qui m'inquiète, mais je suppose qu'il n'y a pas moyen de te faire changer d'avis.Elle le connaissait trop bien pour ça.- Donc, vous avez rattrapé toutes les créatures, sauf les demiguises ? demanda Phichit après avoir quitté l'esprit de Yuri.Comme prévu, leur séance de dokushinjutsu se déroula le lendemain de l'incident. Si les coupables n'avaient pas été découverts, pas plus que leur but, les chefs des établissements avaient maintenu cours et tournoi. Les faits n'avaient pas été considérés assez graves pour une annulation - les mots du ministère de la magie japonais, qui avaient mis Yuri en pétard. Les professeurs étaient toutefois plus vigilants que d'ordinaire et la répartition des matchs était repoussée au week-end.Malgré sa nuit quasi inexistante, Yuri était heureux de pouvoir partager ses pensées avec son meilleur ami, ce qui lui évitait de devoir les formuler. Reposant.- C'est ça. Comme ils sont invisibles, nous n'avons pas pu déterminer s'ils sont toujours sur l'île. Même Tanaka-sensei ne peut pas les repérer à coup sûr.- Cochonnerie ces bestioles.- Elles sont parfaitement inoffensives, protesta Yuri en se frottant les yeux de fatigue.- Les hamsters c'est plus pratique. Je dis ça, je dis rien.- Messieurs Chulanont et Katsuki, intervint le professeur, je vous rappelle que vous n'êtes pas censé profiter du cours pour bavarder. Que ce soit directement ou dans votre esprit.Haneki-sensei était un yokai lié à Mahoutokoro depuis si longtemps qu'il faisait partie des murs. Haut de plus de trois mètres, le tengu humanoïde à la peau rouge et à l'immense nez - si long que son poids devrait entraîner sa tête en avant s'il était soumis aux même lois de la gravité que les humains - possédait des pouvoirs de télépathie inégalés dans le pays. Il les avait mis au service des humains plusieurs siècles plus tôt, d'abord auprès de samouraïs, puis de l'école de magie.- Vos défenses sont un peu faibles Monsieur Katsuki. Peut-être parce que vous laissez volontairement faire votre camarade. Choisissez une pensée que vous ne voulez pas lui montrer et faites preuve d'un peu de sérieux !Les énormes sourcils noirs du géant était froncés de colère, mais Yuri savait d'expérience que ce n'était qu'une façade. Il n'obéit donc pas au professeur par peur, mais dans le but de progresser.- Legilimens, prononça Phichit en le visant de sa baguette.Yuri tenta de lever son bouclier mental, résista à la force qui l'envahissait. Cependant le manque de sommeil l'empêchait de se concentrer et son meilleur ami était un puissant Legilimens.La digue céda d'un coup. Le regard de Yuri s'arrêta sur la joue gauche d'Elias : une balafre la barrait de la tempe à la mâchoire. Cachée lorsqu'il relâchait ses cheveux, la marque apparaissait s'il les attachait en queue de cheval comme en cet instant. Quelques mèches rebelles encadraient toutefois son visage. La question se retrouva sur les lèvres de Yuri avant qu'il n'y réfléchisse. - Comment tu t'es fait ta cicatrice ? Elias sursauta, plaqua une main dessus, comme s'il venait de recevoir une gifle. - Ah. Non. Désolé, s'affola Yuri en agitant les mains devant lui. Tu n'es pas obligé de répondre, c'était indiscret de ma part. - Je suis juste surpris, personne ne m'a jamais posé la question. Un sourire doux remplaça le choc initial sur les traits du Finlandais, qui retira alors sa main. - Un accident idiot, j'ai voulu faire mon malin à l'épée vers treize ans en sous-estimant mon adversaire plus jeune. - Attends, tu veux dire que tu te battais vraiment ? Horrifié, Yuri le fixait avec des yeux agrandis derrière ses verres. - Non, on était censé s'entraîner. Comme je disais, ajouta-t-il en haussant les épaules, c'était un accident. - Ou bien ce type t'en voulait. - Il a un caractère assez impulsif oui, mais pas un mauvais fond. Tu trouves ça moche ? Ce fut au tour du Japonais de sursauter. - Hein ? Bien sûr que non ! Ça te donne du charme au contraire. De nouveau, il agit sans réfléchir. Sa main se déplaça de son propre chef, ses doigts effleurèrent la ligne de bas en haut, avant de repousser une mèche derrière l'oreille d'Elias. Yuri sentit son compagnon frissonner sous la caresse et se détourna vivement, troublé. Le terme était faible. Sa poitrine semblait sur le point d'exploser. Sa peau le brûlait d'embarras. Et il n'était pas certain de pouvoir émettre de sons articulés en cet instant. - Wow wow wow ! Attends une minute Yuri, qui est ce type ? C'était quoi ça ? Tu me fais quoi là ?Phichit le dévisageait, éberlué ; Yuri sentit sa peau chauffer sur son visage. À quelques pas, le professeur s'acharnait sur les jumelles Fumi et Yuki, son dos tourné vers eux.Le Thaïlandais lui jeta un coup d'oeil prudent, puis attrapa le poignet de son meilleur ami pour l'obliger à se pencher vers lui.- Je ne connais pas encore tous les élèves des autres équipes, chuchota-t-il, mais LUI, je n'ai aucun souvenir de l'avoir croisé. Pas même aux entraînements.- Il n'y va pas, marmonna Yuri, mal à l'aise sans trop savoir pourquoi, Elias est le remplaçant de Victor et n'en voit pas l'intérêt.- Ce qui m'amène à ma seconde question : et Victor ?La question avait tellement perdu Yuri qu'il en oublia sa gêne.- Quoi Victor ?- Je croyais que tu avais des vues sur lui. Et là tu es tout émoustillé par un parfait inconnu. Pour ce qu'on en sait, c'est un complice dans ce qui s'est passé hier soir.- Des... Émous... Seigneur Phichit, tu racontes n'importe quoi !D'un geste, Yuri se dégagea, irrité par la discussion, le manque de sommeil et les évènements de la veille tout à la fois.- Cette conversation est ridicule ! siffla-t-il entre ses dents.Phichit leva les mains devant lui en signe d'apaisement.- OK, OK. Ne t'énerve pas, tu n'auras qu'à demander à ton Elias de venir à la soirée prévue ce week-end.- Première nouvelle.- Je te l'ai dit pourtant, mais est-ce que tu m'a écouté ? Noooon !Yuri leva les yeux au ciel, tomba sur le visage menaçant du professeur qui les fixait et se hâta de lever sa baguette vers son partenaire.- On ferait mieux de reprendre. À mon tour.- Ah ! s'esclaffa Phichit. Comme si tu pouvais...- Legilimens !Certes, Haneki-sensei leur répétait souvent d'attaquer sans attendre pour s'entraîner à bloquer en urgence, mais Yuri y mettait plus d'ardeur que d'ordinaire. Vengeance ou moyen de détourner la conversation précédente, l'esprit de Phichit n'était en tout cas pas prêt. Le rire de Christophe retentit, alors qu'il tapait amicalement l'épaule de Victor à quelques pas de là. Dans sa tenue de quidditch, les cheveux collés de transpiration, il tenait son balai de sa main libre et plaisantait avec le Russe. Son sourire, plus sincère que lorsqu'il flirtait, allumait un éclat séduisant dans ses yeux verts qui attirait Phichit tel un papillon de nuit vers une flamme. Le coeur battant, ce dernier afficha son expression de provocation assurée en approchant du capitaine de Beauxbatons. - Giacometti. Il attira son attention en lui tapotant le bras - l'épaule était un peu haute pour lui, le geste n'aurait pas été naturel. Le Suisse se retourna, baissa la tête vers le nouvel arrivant et son expression se modifia pour arborer son masque de playboy. Phichit détestait cet air qu'il se donnait : Christophe n'en avait pas besoin pour retourner les cœurs, pas plus que de sa magie vélane. Cette attitude sonnait faux, bien loin de ce que le Thaïlandais voulait connaître du jeune homme et l'obligeait à mettre en place ses défenses d'Occlumens à tout hasard. Il s'efforça d'afficher un air désinvolte, absolument désintéressé par son compagnon et sa réponse à venir. - On fait une fête ce week-end pour le début du tournoi. Comme on n'est pas sectaire, tu peux venir avec ton équipe. Amusé, Christophe laissa tomber sa comédie de Don Juan pour une attitude plus joueuse. - Vraiment ? Quelle générosité petit hamster. Merci, je transmettrai l'invitation à mes coéquipiers. Mais je ne viendrai qu'à une condition. Ces derniers mots rendirent Phichit un rien nerveux, mais il parvint à maintenir son bluff. - Tu fais comme tu le sens Giacometti. - Que tu sois à la soirée aussi. Surpris, le Thaïlandais hésita un instant. - Oh. Euh... eh bien je l'organise donc... - Parfait. - Très bien. L'image se brouilla. Phichit venait de reprendre le contrôle de son esprit et éjecta Yuri avec plus de force que nécessaire. Sonné, ce dernier vacilla un instant en reprenant pied dans l'instant présent, puis jeta un regard outré à son partenaire.- Tu peux bien me donner des leçons, mais tu joues avec le feu.- Mais non, je m'amuse c'est tout.- C'est ça. Je te retourne ce que tu me dis souvent Phichit : tu ne peux pas me mentir. Pas à moi.Ils se turent, soudain sérieux. Il avait suffit d'une soirée pour que la belle ambiance tissée à Mahoutokoro en deux semaines de cohabitation s'effondre et que tout le monde soupçonne tout le monde. Dès le petit-déjeuner, les deux amis avaient remarqué les coups d'œil nerveux et les conversations sombres chuchotées. Chacun était resté dans son groupe d'origine lors des premiers cours et des piques avaient volé entre certains élèves.Un lourd nuage noir semblait planer sur l'île, provoquant mouvements d'humeur et tensions, exacerbant les rivalités devenues amères. Les élèves hésitaient à présent à se mélanger et de nombreuses rumeurs floues couraient ici et là.Dans ces conditions, ni Yuri ni Phichit n'avaient intérêt à s'intéresser de trop près à des jeunes hommes d'autres équipes. Surtout quand ces derniers étaient nimbés de mystère ou traînaient dans leur sillage des réputations sulfureuses.L'entraînement de quidditch ce soir là ne se passa pas dans une atmosphère plus légère. Le report de l'annonce des répartitions pour la première phase du tournoi n'aidait pas à calmer les nerfs déjà mis à vif par la nuit précédente.Alors que l'équipe de Mahoutokoro se préparait dans un silence tendu, une tornade blonde tomba sur Yuri qui s'était isolé et abattit son poing contre son épaule. Celui-ci couina une protestation, leva la tête de la boucle de sa jambière pour tomber sur un chaton de mauvais poil.- Je te préviens Katsudon, t'as pas intérêt à prendre tes distances à cause d'hier ! Si tu oses me soupçonner d'un truc aussi horrible je t'assomme !L'idée n'avait pas effleuré l'esprit du Japonais qui dévisagea son homonyme comme si des oreilles de chat venaient réellement de pousser sur son crâne - quoique, quel était son animagus déjà ? se demanda Yuri, tout à fait hors de propos en cet instant. Aucune réaction intelligente ne lui vint donc à l'esprit et il se contenta de fixer les yeux verts agressifs. Il cru y déceler un fond d'inquiétude, mais l'impression s'échappa aussi vite qu'elle était venue.- Même chose pour mon cousin. C'est un crétin, mais pas un crétin cruel.La soirée de la veille repassa dans l'esprit de Yuri et, avec un nouveau timing à côté de la plaque, une question lui échappa.- Tu connais bien Elias ?À bien y réfléchir, Yuri l'avait-il jamais croisé à d'autres moments que le soir dans son sanctuaire ? À se demander s'il ne hantait pas les lieux.Les interrogations de son aîné prirent Yurio de court, au point d'en oublier de jouer l'éternel indigné.- Hein ?Finalement, Yuri n'était pas le seul à manquer de répartie.- Hier, vous aviez l'air assez proches. Je risque de ne pas le voir ce soir, j'aide encore à chercher les demiguises. Je suppose que Phichit t'a parlé de sa petite fête, tu peux y inviter Elias pour moi ?À cet instant précis, avant que le blondinet ne puisse répondre, Victor se matérialisa près d'eux, une expression inquiète sur le visage.- Yuri, est-ce que ça va ?Ses yeux bleus étaient fixés sur le Yuri japonais, ignorant le russe qui lui lança quelque chose dans leur langue natale. Son cousin lui répondit d'un ton doux - qui sembla irriter un peu plus Yurio -, avant de s'asseoir près de l'attrapeur de Mahoutokoro et de lui prendre la main en signe de soutien. Le cerveau de ce dernier fit un soudain court-circuit, mais il parvint à articuler une réponse.- Ah. Un peu secoué. Merci de t'en inquiéter.- C'est normal, rétorqua Victor en serrant brièvement les doigts entre les siens, tu as eu une nuit difficile.Yurio les dévisagea tour à tour, l'expression indéchiffrable, puis répondit à la question de son homonyme restée en suspens.- Pas de problème Katsudon, je transmet ton invitation à Elias. Tu viendras aussi à cette soirée, hein Victor ?Ce dernier se crispa soudain. La réaction blessa Yuri qui retira sa main vivement et se leva.- Aucune obligation. Tu as sans doute mieux à faire."Que de passer du temps en ma compagnie", compléta le Japonais in petto en détournant le regard. Il risqua toutefois un coup d'œil, cru noter un instant de panique dans l'expression du capitaine de Durmstrang, ainsi qu'une vague arrogance dans celle de Yurio.- Non ! Enfin je veux dire si ! Je viendrai avec plaisir. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Quatre ans plus tôt - Tu es trop petit pour t'entraîner avec moi.Le regard vert lui lança des éclairs et, contre les épais murs de pierre grise de la salle d'escrime, les épées s'agitèrent dans les râteliers sous l'effet de la colère du garçon. Amusé, Victor croisa les bras pour le défier d'un air supérieur.- Tu vois, tu ne maîtrises ni ton énergie ni tes émotions Yuratchka. Les combats magiques nécessitent les deux.- Tch ! Tu n'es qu'un gamin toi aussi, fais pas comme si tu connaissais tout.- Toujours plus que toi. Yakov ne voudra jamais...- Depuis quand tu as besoin d'une autorisation ? Tu fais toujours ce que tu veux ! L'héritier Nikiforov, le petit génie, bla-bla-bla : tout le monde n'en a que pour toi !Si jusqu'ici Victor était amusé par la discussion - taquiner son cousin constituait son passe-temps favori, surtout depuis qu'il portait son horrible coupe au bol -, ces derniers mots le mirent dans une colère froide.Être l'unique héritier Nikiforov n'était pas un privilège mais une malédiction.Depuis tout petit son père le traînait à travers le monde, le formait à reprendre ses responsabilités diplomatiques. Quand les enfants de son âge jouaient, lui recevait une instruction exigeante et stricte : combats magiques, légilimancie et occlumancie, langues étrangères, rhétorique, politique magique et moldue mondiale, sorts et potions avancés... Avant même de mettre un orteil à Durmstrang - son père avait écarté Koldovstoretz d'emblée -, Victor avait été façonné pour en devenir l'élève modèle.Il ignorait pourquoi il persistait à obéir aux attentes d'Alekseï Nikiforov, surtout à un âge où la rebellion bouillait dans ses veines. Peut-être parce qu'il n'avait plus que son père et recherchait son approbation avec désespoir ? Ou parce qu'il ne connaissait que cela ?Le jeune adolescent aspirait toutefois à un autre avenir que celui tracé pour lui. Il se ne sentait vivant que sur un balai, lorsqu'il chassait le vif d'or, et il était assez doué pour faire ses débuts dans l'équipe officielle de son école dès cette année. Son père y voyait une belle publicité pour la famille Nikiforov et l'encourageait pour l'instant - mais Victor savait que ça ne durerait qu'un temps.Certains jours il acceptait cette idée. D'autres, il avait envie de hurler.- Très bien, lâcha-t-il à Yuri, glacial, ne viens pas pleurer si je te fais mal. Ce sont des épées d'entraînement bridées, mais ça peut piquer tout de même.- Tch ! Je vais te botter le cul Victor.Ce dernier ignora la bravade pour sortir sa baguette. Il la pointa sur le cadenas qui retenait deux épées à présent déchaînées. Les armes magiques percevaient la tension belliqueuse dans l'air et n'attendaient qu'un mot pour...- Alohomora.Les lames sautèrent hors du râtelier. Victor en attrapa une avec aisance, mais celle qui vola vers Yuri manqua de l'assommer. Avec un juron, il se débattit un instant avant de réussir à saisir la poignée à deux mains.Victor retint un éclat de rire, mais un sourire sarcastique lui échappa : l'arme semblait démesurée pour le garçon et il peinait à la soulever.- Tu peux régler la taille Yuratchka.- Je sais ! cracha le chaton, vexé. Reducio.L'épée rapetissa pour s'adapter à son porteur qui se mit en garde, le regard déterminé du haut de ses neuf ans. Nonchalant, Victor l'imita, puis s'avança pour un premier échange.Des étincelles volèrent lorsque les lames se rencontrèrent et Yuri évalua prudemment son opposant. Ce dernier n'avait pas l'intention d'abuser de sa magie : la combinaison des passes d'arme et des sorts était efficace mais épuisante. Et inutile contre un adversaire de cet acabit : quel mal pouvait lui faire un chaton à peine sevré ?Ledit chaton plongea en avant. Victor esquiva d'un pas de côté. Une bourrasque accompagna le mouvement de Yuri, fit voler les longs cheveux argentés de son aîné, qui cligna des yeux surpris.- Pas mal Yuratchka.Ce combat commençait à devenir amusant à défaut d'un véritable défi.Finalement, Victor décida d'utiliser un sort, plus pour son côté spectaculaire qu'offensif.- Glacius, lança-t-il en touchant le bras libre de son cousin du tranchant de la lame.Un bloc de glace apparut, bloqua le coude de Yuri. Le garçon couina de surprise et d'indignation mêlées ; Victor éclata d'un rire moqueur.- Enfoiré !D'un bond, Yuri se jeta sur son opposant, la pointe de son arme dirigée vers son visage, un sort d'attaque à la bouche.La manoeuvre prit Victor par surprise. Il se recula.Trop tard.Une longue balafre barrait sa joue de la tempe à la mâchoire. Jour présent - Victor !Le Russe se retourna à l'appel de son nom et découvrit Christophe qui le rejoignait à grands pas. Tout le monde affluait à présent vers le palais de Mahoutokoro pour y découvrir la répartition de la première phase du tournoi. D'une beauté saisissante, la pagode d'un blanc immaculé, finement sculptée de créatures mystérieuses, se découpait contre le ciel bleu. L'assemblée des élèves japonais s'y engouffrait, dans un mélange de couleurs qui aurait pu paraître cacophonique, mais les tons pastels ou intenses se mêlaient en une harmonie fascinante et une palette unique parmi toutes les écoles.Victor jeta un coup d'œil à ses coéquipiers : avec leurs uniformes bruts et épais, les élèves de Durmstrang ressemblaient à des rustres conviés au royaume du raffinement. Un instant, il envia la tenue de soie bleu ciel de Christophe, dont la coupe semblait conçue pour mettre en valeur ses atouts. Du gilet sans manches cintré qui soulignait sa taille, à la courte cape qui élargissait ses épaules sans dissimuler sa chute de rein, en passant par l'élégant chapeau assorti, le Suisse attirait sans faillir tous les regards.D'ailleurs, remarqua Victor, celui de Phichit ne cessait de revenir sur le capitaine de Beauxbatons quand il pensait que personne ne faisait attention. Un instant, il se demanda si son ami feignait l'ignorance - ce séducteur notoire n'était pas habitué à ce qu'on lui résiste, peut-être tentait-il une nouvelle stratégie ? - ou s'il n'avait pas conscience du manège du Thaïlandais. Ce dernier prit fin lorsque Yuri Katsuki rattrapa son meilleur ami à l'entrée des jardins intérieurs du palais. Surexcité, Phichit passa un bras autour de la taille de son compagnon, qui éclata de rire.Victor se détourna.Il n'avait aucune raison d'être jaloux, pas vrai ? Ils n'étaient que deux amis, très proches certes, mais ça s'arrêtait là.Seulement Phichit connaissait Yuri plus intimement que personne, pouvait le prendre dans ses bras sans arrière-pensée, le faisait rire d'un mot. Et Victor aspirait à tout ça et plus encore avec l'attrapeur de Mahoutokoro.- Youhou, la Terre à Victor ?Une main s'agita devant son nez. Il sursauta. Cligna des yeux en dévisageant Christophe.- Tu n'as pas écouté un mot de ce que je viens de dire.Ce n'était pas une question. Le Suisse suivit la direction du regard de son ami, repéra Yuri et Phichit. Son expression devint alors mi-amusée mi-prédatrice.- Ne t'en fais pas, je me charge du petit hamster, ça te laissera le champ libre. Ce qui me ramène à la question que tu viens d'ignorer. Très malpoli.- Désolé, répondit Victor en enfilant son masque pour le public - un sourire impersonnel -, tu disais ?- Tu viens à la soirée ?Problème numéro un dans sa (trop longue) liste, mais s'il essayait de se défiler, nul doute que son cousin se chargerait de le traîner par la peau des fesses avec sa délicatesse légendaire. En cet instant, Victor donnerait cher pour une bonne cape d'invisibilité. À moins de prétendre être malade ? Il pourrait toujours se préparer une potion pour simuler. Ou encore se faire "malencontreusement" repérer par un prof quand il essayerait de faire le mur avec les autres. Mais dans ce cas, comment expliquer...Un long soupir le tira de sa (seconde) rêverie. Christophe secoua la tête, ouvrit la bouche - sûrement pour se plaindre de sa distraction -, mais la principale Okukawa choisit cet instant pour demander l'attention des élèves.Elle rappela rapidement l'organisation par groupes de trois équipes : à l'issue des trois matchs, les deux premières avanceraient à l'étape suivante du tournoi.- Et maintenant, poursuivit-elle en levant sa baguette, le moment que vous attendez tous.Tous les élèves retinrent leur souffle, tous les yeux se braquèrent sur les lettres lumineuses qui apparurent dans l'air au centre du jardin :« Groupe 1 : Mahoutokoro - Mantirakkōl - DurmstrangGroupe 2 : Uagadou - Wooloonji - PoudlardGroupe 3 : Beauxbatons - Castelobruxo - TarvaaGroupe 4 : Tituba - Ilvermorny - Koldovstoretz »Parvenu à la fin de la première ligne, Victor glissa un regard vers Yuri à quelques pas de là, à moitié caché par la large carrure d'Antonin, l'un des poursuiveurs de Tituba, qui discutait avec Ana et Leo. Même à distance, il était évident que l'attrapeur japonais avait pâli en découvrant les noms de ses adversaires. Ou plus probablement celui de Durmstrang, l'école indienne ne représentait pas une menace.Les regards des deux rivaux se croisèrent, Victor tenta de flasher un sourire, Yuri se contenta d'un hochement de tête nerveux avant de battre en retraite. - Yuratchka, gémit Victor, je suis un homme mort !Il se laissa tomber, dramatique, sur son lit dans la cabine qu'il partageait avec son cousin à bord du Skidbladnir - plus souvent appelé le Skid par les élèves, bien moins ronflant mais plus court. Makkachin prit l'attitude de son maître pour une invitation à s'affaler sur lui et lui lécher la figure, mais Victor gardait le visage obstinément enfoui dans son oreiller.Sur le lit d'en face, Yurio ignora le mélodrame de son compagnon - il ne lui fit même pas l'honneur de lever le nez de Magiscroll. À ses côtés, Potya lança un regard de dédain à la boule de poils canine qui gémissait à présent pour obtenir une caresse. Jamais le distingué félin ne s'abaisserait à quémander ainsi : il frotta son nez sur la main de son propre maître, obtint une satisfaction immédiate, et remercia d'un ronronnement sonore.- Yuraaaaaa !- Oh ta gueule ! Tu déconnes, tu assumes.Victor lui envoya son oreiller en représailles. Il rebondit sur la barrière de protection installée entre les deux parties de la chambre - une précaution pour tenir Potya hors de portée des démonstrations d'affection de Makkachin.- Mais je fais comment ?- Y a pas cinquante options hein. Soit tu avoues la vérité à Katsudon, soit tu jongles.- Si seulement je pouvais lui dire... marmonna Victor en ramassant son oreiller.Quelque chose dans son ton attira enfin l'attention de son cadet qui releva le nez de Magiscroll. Les sourcils froncés de confusion, il dévisagea son cousin sans même ciller à la vue de la cicatrice sur sa joue - Yurio en était l'auteur après tout, nul besoin de la masquer en sa présence.- Qu'est-ce qui te retient ? À part les instructions de ton père je veux dire, ça t'a toujours arrangé de les oublier de temps en temps.- Yuri partage absolument tout avec Phichit.- C'est pas un complet abruti comme toi, vu les circonstances il devrait pouvoir garder un secret. Je sais bien qu'on le connaît depuis peu mais...- Ce n'est pas le problème : ils pratiquent la légilimancie ensemble.Un instant bouche bée, le blondinet retrouva l'usage de la parole rapidement pour annoncer sa sentence.- Alors tu vas devoir jongler.- Ou tu pourrais dire que je suis malade ? tenta Victor avec espoir.- Même pas en rêve, je marche pas dans tes combines, surtout à quelques jours du premier match.- Tu peux au moins m'aider à...- Démerde-toi ! cracha le chaton.Sur ces mots, il quitta son lit pour se diriger vers son placard. Un instant il considéra les étagères, puis sélectionna quelques vêtements, indécis. Il leva devant lui un t-shirt avec une tête de tigre dans une main, un autre avec un lion rugissant.- Lequel ?- Bah, c'est pareil, répondit Victor, indifférent. Un gros chat dans les deux cas.Yurio le foudroya du regard, sélectionna le premier et renvoya le second en boule dans son placard.- Tu piges que dalle ! Le tigre est plus classe, c'est pas pour rien que c'est mon animagus.- Pourquoi tu demandes mon avis alors ?Le blondinet le gratifia d'un "tch !" dédaigneux, tandis qu'il choisissait un jeans noir déchiré et des chaussures à motif panthère. La réalisation frappa enfin Victor alors que Yurio commençait à se changer.- Attends une seconde, tu ne vas pas à la soirée avec ton uniforme ?Le garçon lui jeta un regard de pitié.- Personne n'y va en uniforme. Prépare deux tenues : si Victor et Elias apparaissent avec des fringues identiques à la même soirée ça va être un chouilla suspect. Sous sa véritable apparence - moins sa cicatrice -, Victor tenta de rester caché derrière son cousin lorsqu'il firent leur entrée dans le foyer des élèves. Sans succès : non seulement Yurio était plus petit que lui, mais il s'arrangea pour le semer au plus vite, rejoignant Otabek arrivé avant eux.Cela faisait des années que Victor passait sans effort de sa propre identité à celle de son double, Elias. Dernier né d'une longue lignée de métamorphomage, il ne pouvait complètement transformer son visage comme les plus puissants, mais modifier un peu ses traits, changer la couleur de ses cheveux ou masquer sa cicatrice étaient aussi simple que de respirer. Pour une raison qui lui échappait, il pouvait seulement foncer le bleu de ses yeux, pour passer du lagon au bleu marine. Le cumul de tous ces petits détails le rendait toutefois méconnaissable.Seul un cercle très fermé était au courant : les familles Nikiforov et Plisetsky, Yakov Feltsman - l'un des tuteurs de Victor, un ami de longue date de son père -, la principale de Durmstrang Lilia Baranovskaya, et une poignée de dignitaires russes. Depuis des générations, les Nikiforov gardaient ce secret pour l'utiliser dans un but diplomatique et politique.Autrement dit, à des fins d'espionnage.À ce titre, Elias apparaissait pour récolter des informations que le fameux Victor Nikiforov ne pouvait obtenir aussi facilement. Il se montrait régulièrement parmi ses camarades de Durmstrang afin de ne pas éveiller les soupçons, mais cultivait une personnalité discrète pour se fondre dans le décor.Seulement le jour où Victor-Elias avait entendu la voix de Yuri au creux de la nuit, puis aperçu son doux sourire éclairé par la lumière de son familier, il n'avait pu résister à l'impulsion de l'approcher. Il avait alors fait le raisonnement suivant : Victor Nikiforov mettait l'attrapeur japonais mal à l'aise, mais Elias pourrait lui parler normalement.À cet instant, le Russe ignorait qu'il venait de mettre le doigt dans un engrenage dont il ignorait comment se dépêtrer.S'il avait été intrigué par le Yuri nerveux, stimulé par le rival de quidditch, puis attendri par l'invocateur et le magizoologiste, la beauté du danseur et la bienveillance du confident avait achevé d'éveiller des sentiments inédits dans son coeur vide. Or le Japonais ne montrait ces dernières facettes qu'à Elias ; Victor pouvait à peine l'approcher. Malgré ses efforts pour le charmer ou se rendre accessible, Yuri était intimidé par Victor Nikiforov, le jeune prodige du quidditch qui apparaissait dans les magazines.Résultat : depuis leur rencontre, il ne se sentait jamais tant lui-même que sous ses traits d'emprunt, le tout saupoudré d'une bonne dose de culpabilité pour son double jeu. Il ignorait comment se rapprocher de Yuri en tant que Victor, à défaut ne voulait pas arrêter de le voir en tant qu'Elias, ne pouvait pas faire coïncider les deux personnages. Il n'avait pas prévu d'utiliser son alter ego à des fins personnelles. Ça s'était juste... passé ainsi.S'il avait imaginé un jour que son plus grand rival ne serait autre que lui-même."Pathétique", songea-t-il en endossant son masque de séducteur souriant et intouchable.En société il savait qu'il devait donner le change à tout prix. Alekseï Nikiforov lui avait martelé la leçon très tôt, si bien que l'attitude publique de l'adolescent était enracinée en lui.Son regard parcourut le foyer éclairé de lanternes de papier qui flottaient devant les murs de bois. La lumière douce éclairait ici un arbre qui bougeait dans le vent, là un phénix blanc qui secouait ses plumes, sur un autre panneau des fleurs dont Victor aurait juré sentir le parfum. Un sortilège d'illusion faisait pleuvoir des pétales roses sur toute la pièce, rappelant le sakura devant lequel Yuri l'avait fui quelques jours plus tôt. Les tables basses couvertes de boissons et en-cas avaient été poussées sur les côtés pour libérer une piste de danse, et une musique forte envahissait la pièce.Phichit apparut soudain à ses côtés, traînant un Yuri au regard évasif dans son sillage.- Content de te voir Victor. Pas de problème pour vous échapper de votre rafiot ?Le Russe s'efforça de se concentrer sur la conversation avec l'organisateur de la fête, mais glissa quelques coups d'œil vers l'attrapeur de Mahoutokoro. Celui-ci avait troqué le hakama de son uniforme pour un jean moulant et une chemise bleue cintrée qui mettaient en valeur sa fine silhouette, et avait coiffé ses cheveux en arrière. Victor dut prendre sur lui pour ne pas oublier tout le reste et simplement rester planter là à admirer Yuri.- Non aucun. Je n'ai pas entendu la musique de l'extérieur, tu as mis un sort de sourdine ?- Pas moi, Yuri, précisa le Thaïlandais en attrapant ce dernier qui rougit. Mais oui, on essaye d'éviter d'attirer les profs.Il eut un sourire démoniaque, manifestement pas inquiet à l'idée d'être pris la main dans le sac. D'ailleurs, comme la grande majorité des élèves se trouvaient à cette fête non autorisée, les enseignants étaient sans doute au courant et choisissaient de fermer les yeux.- Tu aimes toujours autant t'attirer des ennuis, remarqua Victor, amusé, je me rappelle un petit garçon qui s'était échappé de son lit. Je me suis longtemps demandé si ta mère n'avait pas été trop sévère.Le souvenir fit éclater de rire Phichit.- Pas vraiment, elle a vu bien pire avec moi.- Je te crois sur parole.Tandis que Yuri restait toujours muet, Phichit posa soudain son regard sur un point derrière Victor ; l'instant d'après Christophe se matérialisa auprès de leur trio. Il tapa le dos de son ami en guise de salut puis se tourna vers le Thaïlandais, une main tendue en invitation.- Petit hamster, une danse ?Avant de réaliser ce qu'il se passait, Victor se retrouva seul avec Yuri - enfin seuls au milieu d'une nuée de convives qui riaient, dansaient ou discutaient autour d'eux.Le Russe y vit alors sa chance, esquissa un geste vers son compagnon.- Ah. Hum. Il... il faut que je parle à Yurio. À plus tard.Un instant Yuri se trouvait à cinq centimètres de lui, le suivant il avait rejoint l'autre bout de la longue salle. À croire qu'il avait transplané.Frustré, Victor ravala un juron.Il allait échanger quelques conversations polies histoire de se montrer, puis il serait temps de faire apparaître Elias. Il prétexta un coup de fatigue pour s'éclipser, permettant au personnage de Victor Nikiforov de disparaître définitivement de la soirée. Dans ses heures de réflexion - avec sa patience légendaire, Yurio aurait traduit par "ses chouinements" -, il avait bien envisagé de passer plusieurs fois d'une identité à l'autre pour ne pas éveiller les soupçons, mais c'était au-dessus de ses forces.À grands pas, il rejoignit des toilettes à l'écart, s'assura que personne ne se trouvait dans les parages avant d'y pénétrer : s'il rentrait en Victor et sortait en Elias les explications seraient délicates.Son reflet dans le miroir se transforma à peine le verrou refermé. Ses cheveux passèrent de l'argent au brun, ses yeux foncèrent, son nez s'élargit, sa cicatrice réapparut, ses pommettes devinrent plus saillantes et sa mâchoire plus carrée. Le procédé était si familier qu'il prit moins d'une seconde.Pour les vêtements, c'était un peu plus long.Victor portait un jean noir et une chemise blanche dont il avait roulé les manches jusqu'aux coudes. Simple, élégant mais décontracté, mais surtout facile et rapide à métamorphoser.Il sortit sa baguette, en passa la pointe plusieurs fois sur son jean pour le lacérer - l'idée lui était venue en observant Yurio -, puis marmonna quelques sorts en visant sa chemise qui se transforma en t-shirt noir à manches courtes. Sur un coup de tête, il ajouta un oiseau-tonnerre doré."Oui, c'est mieux", songea-t-il avec satisfaction.Elias pouvait se permettre quelques fantaisies. Si au fil des années Elias était devenu une seconde peau, son personnage n'était pas destiné à une vie sociale : la fête de ce soir là constituait donc une première pour Victor-Elias, une apparition bien plus publique que d'ordinaire.Bien sûr, une seule personne comptait parmi la foule de ce soir, mais la différence d'attitude des autres élèves à quelques minutes d'intervalle le frappa si fort qu'il ne put l'ignorer. Quand Victor attirait tous les regards - d'admiration ou de jalousie -, Elias pouvait se mouvoir sans pression sociale.De nouveau, le Russe envia son alter ego. Ce dernier aurait pu suivre sa propre voie quand les espoirs secrets de Victor Nikiforov semblaient impossibles sous le poids des attentes paternelles. Lorsque Yuri avait partagé son rêve de carrière sportive, il avait failli hurler "moi aussi !", mais avait - une fois de plus - dû étouffer son enthousiasme.Elias n'était pas censé avoir d'ambitions ; Victor semblait avoir déjà atteint les siennes.Tout juste avait-il convaincu Alekseï Nikiforov de le laisser rejoindre l'équipe nationale quelques temps.- Elias !Une voix familière dans son dos. Victor-Elias se retourna pour se retrouver devant un Yuri détendu et accueillant. À ses côtés, Phichit le considérait avec un sourire poli mais méfiant, tandis que Christophe ne lui accordait même pas un regard avant de partir chercher à boire. De nouveau, le contraste d'attitude le frappa de plein fouet et il se demanda comment réconcilier tous les aspects de sa personnalité - et de ceux qui l'entouraient.- Phichit, se présenta le Thaïlandais en tendant la main. J'ai beaucoup entendu parler de toi.- De même, répondit-il en rendant le salut. Merci pour l'invitation Yuri.Ce dernier sourit et le coeur de Victor battit un peu plus fort.- Avec plaisir. Je me suis demandé si Yurio te l'avait bien transmise comme je ne te voyais pas.- Peut-être que tu n'es pas très fêtard ? suggéra Phichit. Un peu comme mon Yuri.L'intéressé lui donna un coup de coude et une conversation silencieuse sembla passer entre eux. Ils n'utilisaient quand même pas la légilimancie là devant tout le monde ? Non, même si Yuri maîtrisait la magie non verbale et sans baguette, l'échange ressemblait à une simple complicité entre amis qui se connaissaient par coeur.Entre ça et le possessif utilisé - pire, souligné - par Phichit, Victor-Elias avait une soudaine envie de l'étrangler.- Dis-moi Elias, reprit celui-ci, je ne t'ai encore jamais croisé. C'est étrange, tu as pris quelles options ?Terrain glissant. Depuis son arrivée au Japon il avait négligé les apparitions ici et là de son personnage, aussi devait-il slalomer entre les cours suivis par Yuri, Phichit et Christophe - qui venait de reparaître avec un verre pour ce dernier. Sans compter l'image qu'il voulait qu'Elias présente, s'il répondait qu'il séchait les cours, ça...- T'en as mis du temps !Intérieurement, Victor remercia son cousin qui venait à sa rescousse. Le chaton l'avait pourtant envoyé paître plus tôt, mais prouvait une fois de plus qu'il crachait plus qu'il ne griffait.- C'était si long cette dissert d'herbologie ? Urg, je regrette de m'être inscrit, le prof de Castelobruxo est barbant !D'accord, il risquait de se faire arracher les yeux au passage, mais Victor devait VRAIMENT embrasser Yurio plus tard. Les mots et l'attitude de ce dernier modifièrent du tout au tout le comportement de Phichit, dont le sourire retrouva sa chaleur coutumière. Il s'apprêtait toutefois à poursuivre ses questions lorsque la musique changea pour un rock entraînant.Le visage de Yurio s'illumina. Il attrapa la main d'Otabek, le fit pivoter vers la piste de danse et l'entraîna telle une bourrasque. Pour une fois, le Kazakh perdit un peu de son flegme au passage.- Venez danser ! lança le blondinet au reste du groupe.L'intervention mit fin à tout interrogatoire : Christophe débarrassa Phichit de son verre, puis le fit tournoyer en rythme vers le centre de la pièce. Le Thaïlandais éclata de rire et se prêta volontiers au jeu.De nouveau, Victor se retrouva seul avec Yuri au milieu de la pièce bondée. Cette fois cependant, ce dernier proposa spontanément sa main pour inviter Victor - Elias, se corrigea-t-il - avec un sourire.Pour la première fois de sa vie, Victor détesta son don de métamorphomage. Il tâcha de garder une expression enthousiaste, mais aurait voulu mettre fin à la supercherie ici et maintenant, hurler la vérité pour réconcilier toutes ses facettes et simplement être lui-même.Bien sûr, il se contenta de suivre son cavalier, oublia son dilemme pour quelques minutes de danse effrénée. Le rythme était rapide, entraînant, et Yuri le guidait avec assurance.Celui-ci le fit tourbillonner, l'éloigna, le rapprocha d'un mouvement ferme. Le bras de Yuri s'enroula autour de sa taille ; pour un instant fugace, Victor pu sentir le parfum citronné de son shampoing. Puis son cavalier le fit tourner de nouveau, et tout se mélangea : la musique, leurs rires, les formes imprécises des autres danseurs, la lumière tamisée, les pétales de sakura, la chaleur des doigts autour des siens, l'éclat d'un regard chocolat. Un délicieux vertige saisit Victor.Sur les dernières notes, Yuri le renversa sur son bras. Hors d'haleine, ils se dévisagèrent, les yeux brillants. Le visage rougit, des mèches rebelles échappées sur son front, la chemise en bataille et les lunettes de travers, Victor trouva son partenaire plus séduisant que jamais.Il lui fallut quelques instants pour s'apercevoir que la musique avait changé pour une mélodie douce. Elias se redressa, modifia sa posture pour se mettre en position de conducteur avec une expression interrogatrice. Yuri posa alors sa main gauche sur l'épaule de son cavalier et la droite dans celle offerte.Tout proches, ils ondulèrent en silence au rythme lent et... romantique ne put s'empêcher de penser Victor. Leurs cuisses se frôlaient, les cheveux de Yuri chatouillaient sa joue. De nouveau son parfum citronné troubla le Russe.Une conversation. N'importe quoi, pourvu que cela couvrit les battements de son coeur. D'ailleurs Elias n'avait pas parlé à Yuri depuis la découverte macabre de l'autre jour.- Je suis désolé pour Akari, chuchota-t-il près de l'oreille de son cavalier, je sais à quel point tu tenais à elle.Au nom de la renarde, Yuri se crispa un instant, puis tourna la tête pour regarder Elias. Leur visage étaient si proches que ce dernier pouvait voir la moindre nuance dans les yeux bruns même à la lumière tamisée des lanternes magiques.- Je ne sais pas si je suis plus triste ou en colère. Si je trouve les coupables, je... je...Il bouillait de rage contenue, cela sautait aux yeux. L'image du jeune homme furieux d'où jaillissait des flammes, tel un Dieu vengeur se superposa devant Victor. À cet instant, Yuri avait inspiré une crainte évidente à son auditoire et depuis le Russe surprenait regards méfiants et conversations chuchotées sur son passage.Dans une tentative de soutien et d'apaisement, son pouce traça de petits cercles sur le dos de la main dans la sienne. Les doigts de Yuri se détendirent un peu sous la caresse.- Je comprends, c'est épouvantable ce qu'ils ont fait.Le Japonais hocha la tête tristement.- A présent je m'inquiète pour les autres animaux sur l'île, même si le ministère pense que c'est un évènement isolé. Yurio a l'air de suivre mon conseil pour son Potya, par contre je vois toujours Makkachin se balader comme avant. J'ai peur qu'il lui arrive quelque chose...Un coup de genou au ventre n'aurait pas été plus douloureux. Victor ne pouvait pas perdre son fidèle chien, son ami, son confident, le seul être qui l'ait toujours accepté sans condition. L'air lui manqua. La salle tourna autour de lui. Les autres danseurs se brouillèrent, tandis que la pluie délicate des sakura semblait se transformer en averse de sang."Je suis Elias, Elias, Elias", se répéta-t-il en boucle. "Je n'ai pas de chien, je..."- Elias ?Au ton inquiet, Victor comprit que, pour une fois, il n'avait pas réussi à donner le change.- Ah... Je-j'ai trop chaud. Le rock était un peu... Enfin je veux dire...L'expression soucieuse, Yuri le dévisagea un instant, puis l'entraîna vers la sortie.- Yuri ?- On va prendre l'air. D'ailleurs j'ai besoin de me défouler, tu veux regarder ?Victor pourrait passer sa vie à admirer Yuri quand il dansait. Ou juste quand il respirait d'ailleurs.- Avec plaisir. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Un an et demi plus tôt - Yakov ! Où est mon crétin de cousin ?La porte rebondit en claquant contre le mur de pierre de la salle d'étude. La résidence Nikiforov était habituée aux assauts du jeune Yuri Plisetsky, aussi aucun portrait ne lui accorda l'ombre d'un regard et Yakov Feltsman leva la tête de son parchemin avec un calme imperturbable.- En déplacement avec son père. Tu es en retard Yuratchka.Le blondinet s'avança avec la grâce d'un éléphant furieux vers le bureau de son tuteur. Depuis sa plus tendre enfance sa mère était trop occupée pour lui consacrer du temps et il avait été élevé par son grand-père. Quant à son instruction, elle s'était déroulée dans ce vieux manoir rempli de courants d'air et de fantômes, sous la baguette de Yakov, aux côtés de Victor. À présent que les deux garçons fréquentaient Durmstrang, ils apprenaient toujours des compétences supplémentaires hors du temps scolaire.De quatre ans son aîné, Victor était comme un grand frère pour Yuri et venait donc avec le package admiration-rivalité-jalousie-attachement-agacement-disputes-taquineries. Bref, un gros noeud de sentiments contradictoires dont le pré-ado ne savait que faire.Pour la peine, il abattit ses poings sur le bureau de Yakov et se pencha en avant. Le geste se voulait menaçant, mais du haut de sa modeste taille l'effet était raté.- Pourquoi je ne peux pas les accompagner ? Mon oncle emmène Victor partout, pourquoi pas moi ?L'injustice hérissait les poils du chaton et son tuteur le dévisagea avec un soudain sérieux. En l'absence de père connu, Alekseï Nikiforov était la figure qui s'en rapprochait le plus dans la vie de Yuri, même sans liens de sang. Les relations familiales étaient complexes et inextricables chez les Nikiforov comme chez les Plisetsky.- Tu es encore trop jeune Yuratchka...- Victor l'accompagnait déjà à mon âge !Coincé par la logique implacable du garçon, le vieil homme s'enfonça dans son siège en passant une main sur son crâne dégarni.- Eh bien... tenta-t-il d'un ton prudent. Victor est l'héritier Nikiforov, son père le forme donc et...- Mais pourquoi ? explosa Yuri. Moi aussi je pourrais devenir diplomate ou autre connerie !- Attention à ton langage Yuri !- On apprend les mêmes choses tous les deux, d'ailleurs je suis plus intelligent que Victor !Le petit bout bouillant de rage et de volonté devant lui, qui cachait ses douleurs sous sa colère, attendrit Yakov.- Sans doute, mais tu n'es pas métamorphomage. Et tu ne peux pas le devenir comme pour un animagus.À la soudaine lueur d'intérêt dans les yeux verts, le tuteur sut qu'il venait de faire une erreur.- Alors je veux devenir animagus. * Jour présent Yuri Plisetsky commençait tout juste à s'endormir lorsque la porte de la cabine s'ouvrit. Il entrouvrit une paupière, grogna à cause de la lumière au bout de la baguette que Victor tenait devant lui.- Désolé Yuratchka.- Il est quelle heure bordel ?- Hum. Trois heures ? répondit Victor d'un ton d'excuse.De nouveau, le blondinet émit un râle de protestation, puis enfouit le visage dans l'oreiller en bougonnant un "sérieux on va être frais demain pour l'entraînement".Son cousin tenta de se déshabiller pour se mettre au lit discrètement. Il y parvint plus ou moins, jusqu'à ce que Makkachin couine de joie en retrouvant son maître, anéantissant tous les efforts précédents. Avec un soupir, Yuri se tourna sur le dos, à présent complètement réveillé, tout comme son compagnon d'après le rythme de sa respiration.- Tu es resté avec Katsudon tout ce temps ?- Hm-hm.- Sous l'identité d'Elias ?Un silence triste le lui confirma. Pour la première fois, Yuri comprit pourquoi son oncle avait mis Victor en garde contre l'utilisation de son don à des fins personnelles. Quand ils étaient petits, les deux cousins s'étaient ainsi amusés aux dépends de gamins du quartier. Le jeune Victor avait donné impunément une leçon à trois garçons qui se moquaient des airs de fillette du blondinet.Alekseï Nikiforov lui avait passé un sacré savon lorsqu'il s'en était aperçu. - Parce que tu as la chance d'avoir hérité d'un tel pouvoir, tu as le devoir de ne pas l'utiliser n'importe comment ! Aux yeux du petit Yuri, son oncle était un géant blond aux yeux bleu glacier, bien plus froids que ceux de Victor. Du haut de ses six ans, à moitié caché derrière un large fauteuil, il ne comprenait pas pourquoi son cousin se faisait gronder alors qu'il était venu à son aide. - Vitya, poursuivit Alekseï Nikiforov, tu ne dois pas te métamorphoser de manière égoïste. - Mais père, je voulais protéger Yuratchka ! - C'était donc pour une raison personnelle. Yuri tressaillit. La voix, tranchante comme un couperet, condamnait le garçon d'une dizaine d'années qui se tenait droit et immobile. Si Victor paraissait d'ordinaire grand et fort aux yeux de son jeune cousin, face à son père il n'en menait pas large. À présent, Yuri voyait ce souvenir sous un nouveau jour.Il se redressa, se tourna vers l'autre lit. La cabine était plongée dans un noir profond, seule une faible lueur filtrait du rideau devant le hublot, mais c'était suffisant pour qu'il devine la silhouette de l'adolescent : depuis qu'il était devenu un animagus sa vision nocturne s'était améliorée.- Je pourrais t'aider.Victor sursauta, surpris par l'offre inhabituelle. Il se redressa si vivement que Makkachin protesta d'un couinement avant de s'avachir au pied du lit et de replonger dans les bras de Morphée.- Je ne savais pas que tu parlais dans ton sommeil Yurio.- La ferme ! C'est pas mon nom.- Un tigre qui enquête l'air de rien sur cette île ne sera pas du tout suspect, c'est sûr.- Oh ta gueule.- Et la version chaton n'est pas tellement subtile.Le ton moqueur acheva d'énerver le blondinet : il éjecta son oreiller vers son cousin. La barrière de protection n'était pas en place et le projectile atteignit sa cible qui éclata de rire.Boudeur, Yuri se rallongea, dos à son compagnon.- Crève. J'en ai rien à foutre de tes emmerdes.- Quel vocabulaire.- Oublie ce que j'ai dit.Un silence. Un froissement de draps. Des pas approchèrent doucement. Le matelas s'enfonça.Et l'oreiller s'écrasa sur la joue de son propriétaire qui cracha une bordée de vives protestations.- Merci Yuratchka.Les mots coupèrent Yuri dans son élan. Cependant, toujours vexé, il garda le silence.- Plus sérieusement, tu m'as sauvé à la soirée, mais là je ne vois pas comment tu peux m'aider.- Tch ! C'était juste pour éviter que tes conneries retombent sur notre famille.- Bien sûr.Le garçon entendit le sourire sceptique dans la voix de son aîné : tous deux échangeaient ces passes d'armes verbales depuis plusieurs années et lisaient sans effort le jeu de leur adversaire. Victor comprenait pourquoi son cousin était vraiment intervenu, mais aussi qu'il protégeait ses sentiments derrière ce mur d'aggressivité ; Yuri savait que son aîné ne se dévoilait jamais complètement, même à lui.- Katsudon n'a pas l'air de trop me détester, marmonna le blondinet, toujours dos à son compagnon, je pourrais m'arranger pour que vous passiez plus de temps ensemble. Sous ta vraie identité.- Ce... ce serait un bon début, chuchota Victor.- Je pense toujours que tu devrais lui dire la vérité.Nouveau silence. Le navire craqua autour d'eux. Leurs deux animaux dormaient paisiblement.- Tu as raison. Quand je saurai un peu plus qui sont nos ennemis...- Tu ne crois quand même pas que Katsudon pourrait être dans le coup !L'idée était si grotesque que Yuri s'était assis d'un bond et avait attrapé la manche du t-shirt de son cousin.- Tu as vu dans quel état il était ? Ce type est si... si... gentil que ça en devient gerbant !Dans l'obscurité, Yuri vit Victor sourire, mais il ne put discerner assez son expression pour deviner ses pensées.- Père m'a appris à me méfier des apparences...- Conneries !- ... mais je ne pense pas non plus que Yuri soit impliqué.- Alors pourquoi...- Rien ne me dit que Phichit ne l'est pas, lui.Perplexe, Yuri le relâcha, puis s'adossa au mur, bras croisés.- Katsudon le saurait.- Pas forcément. Phichit est un Occlumens assez doué pour résister à un charme vélane. De plus, il a un réseau international étendu et la position politique de son pays est peu claire. Pour ce que j'en sais, il a pu intégrer Mahoutokoro à des fins d'espionnage ou de sabotage.- Je suis pas convaincu.- Moi non plus, mais je dois considérer cette possibilité. Presque tout le monde est suspect, même ce brave Georgi pourrait jouer un double jeu.- Tu rigoles ? Il est bien trop bête ! C'est encore pire depuis qu'une nana lui colle au train. Je me demande bien ce qu'elle lui trouve.Ces dernières remarques eurent le mérite de détendre l'atmosphère : les deux cousins pouffèrent comme les deux adolescents qu'ils étaient, toute question de complot oubliée un instant. * L'entraînement du lendemain se passa au radar, la journée défila dans un brouillard pour les jeunes fêtards de la veille. Cependant, pour ce dernier dimanche avant le début des matchs, les entraîneurs poussèrent leurs équipes au bout de leurs limites et les joueurs s'effondrèrent de fatigue de bonne heure.La perspective du premier cours du lundi matin n'enchantait donc guère le jeune Yuri : herbologie de l'Amazonie par un enseignant de Castelobruxo. L'intitulé lui avait paru exotique, mais ça restait un bon vieux cours de botanique magique, dans lequel il devait ingurgiter moult noms latins de plantes. Par sa localisation au coeur de la région à la biodiversité la plus riche de la planète, l'école brésilienne était une sommité dans le domaine.En soupirant, Yuri se laissa tomber sur un banc face au tableau.- Pas fan des cours théoriques ? demanda une voix derrière lui.- Ça craint oui, répondit-il par réflexe. Vivement qu'on revienne à la pratique.Le nouvel arrivant s'installa à ses côtés, puis sortit de quoi écrire et des livres de son minuscule sac - enchanté pour y contenir tout une bibliothèque. La présence était familière et rassurante.- Mais je n'ai pas souvenir qu'on avait une dissert à rendre ?La réalisation frappa Yuri comme la massue d'un troll. Il écarquilla les yeux, se tourna vers son voisin.La gaffe.Lors de la soirée, il avait cherché un cours que personne d'autre ne suivait dans leur cercle d'amis pour donner un alibi plausible à Victor-Elias.- Otabek. Hum. Tu... tu as aussi pris cette option ?Le Kazakh lui répondit d'un de ses rares sourires, teinté d'une pointe de sarcasme, puis continua de s'installer pour prendre des notes : pas une feuille ne dépassait de sa place dans son cahier, tandis que le bureau de Yuri ressemblait déjà à un champ de bataille.Ce dernier réalisa alors qu'au dernier cours ils étaient en demi-groupes pour les travaux pratiques, tandis qu'au précédent il ne s'était pas encore rapproché de son discret ami.Trop discret donc.Il ouvrit la bouche pour tenter de rattraper le coup.- Bonjour à tous, déclara à cet instant précis le professeur, aujourd'hui nous allons étudier l'Anaricum.Plus le temps de sonder Otabek pour découvrir ce qu'il avait compris de la situation. Yuri tendit une main tremblante vers sa plume, la fit tomber, manqua de s'assommer sur le coude de son voisin qui se pencha avant lui pour la ramasser.- Ah... merci, chuchota-t-il en détournant le regard.Imperturbable, le Kazakh revint à sa prise de notes comme s'il n'avait pas été interrompu.- L'Anaricum pousse dans les anciens sanctuaires incas. Ce peuple utilisait une forme primitive de magie qui a imprégné les lieux et...Yuri repoussa une mèche de cheveux blonds d'un geste nerveux, coula un regard vers son ami qui était concentré sur les explications du professeur.Le cours passa à la vitesse d'un escargot sous sort de ralentissement. Le jeune russe jetait de fréquents coups d'œil à sa droite, parvint tout juste à relever la moitié des explications - barbantes - du professeur, renversa trois fois ses affaires et termina l'heure les nerfs en pelote et les cheveux en vrac.En apparence indifférent à l'agitation de son ami, Otabek garda une expression concentrée tout du long et rangea cahier, livre et plume dans son sac enchanté avec un calme olympien.Yuri n'y tenait plus.- Viens par ici.Sans autre avertissement, il attrapa le bras de son compagnon pour l'entraîner à l'écart de toute oreille indiscrète. Devant le visage neutre d'Otabek, le Russe s'énerva.- Putain jamais tu perds ton calme ?Ce dernier lui sourit, amusé - "deux fois en une heure, ça frôle le miracle" pensa le blondinet -, puis se contenta d'attendre la suite.- Je... Tu... tenta Yuri. Est-ce que... Enfin je veux dire...- Oui, j'ai remarqué ton bobard à propos d'Elias.En fait son ami devait aimer le faire mariner, Yuri ne voyait pas d'autre explication à son attitude.- Et aussi qu'en quelques mois à Durmstrang je ne l'ai jamais croisé en même temps que Victor. D'ailleurs ton cousin est en cours de potions, il aura du mal à apparaître en herbologie, conclut-il d'un ton taquin.Les couleurs avaient dû quitter le visage du Russe car Otabek redevint soudain sérieux. Il posa une main rassurante sur son épaule et se pencha vers lui.- Tu n'y es pour rien, je m'en doutais depuis un moment. Je n'en ai parlé à personne et rien ne t'oblige à me donner des détails.Yuri relâcha une respiration qu'il n'avait pas eu conscience de retenir. Toujours nerveux, il détourna le regard et se recula.- Merci, marmonna-t-il. * Pour la première fois, Yuri se retrouvait avec un allié et confident qui dépassait le cercle familial. L'idée le soulageait et le terrifiait à la fois : et si Otabek n'était pas celui qu'il paraissait être ?Mais le mal était fait. À présent il ignorait s'il devait en parler à son cousin ou porter ce secret seul. L'attitude méfiante de Victor déteignait soudain sur lui, le mettant dans un état d'hyper-vigilance épuisante. Il en éprouvait presque de la compassion pour son cousin.- Salut Yurio.Au surnom, le jeune Russe se retourna près à sauter à la gorge de celui qui osait l'appeler ainsi. Il se retrouva face à deux yeux bruns alourdis d'énormes cernes, que même les lunettes bleues ne parvenaient à dissimuler.- Katsudon ? C'est quoi cette tronche ?- Hein ? Ah ! J'ai encore participé aux recherches des demiguises hier soir, j'ai pas beaucoup dormi.Une colère irrationnelle s'empara du plus jeune Yuri.- Je refuse de jouer contre un attrapeur au rabais ! déclara-t-il en pointant un doigt accusateur - et mélodramatique - sur lui. Tu es conscient que notre premier match est après-demain ?Penaud, le Japonais tenta d'esquiver la conversation en se penchant pour retirer ses genouillères.- Il en manque encore deux. J'y retourne.- Deux ? Deux quoi ?- Demiguises.- Ah ! Petit chaton !Une tornade thaïlandaise lui tomba dessus, lui coupant le souffle, mais pas l'irritation qui bouillait.- Tu tombes bien, poursuivit Phichit comme si un regard vert ne le menaçait pas de l'étouffer en lui faisant avaler ses hamsters, peut-être que toi tu arriveras à raisonner cette tête de pioche.- Phichit, protesta Katsudon en levant les yeux au ciel.- Tu as besoin de dormir. DOR-MIR. Tu sais, le truc qu'on fait la nuit normalement quand on est une bestiole diurne ?- Je vais très bien. Je suis le meilleur élève de magizoologie, je veux me rendre utile. Et les demiguises sont plus faciles à attraper la nuit.Jusqu'ici le jeune Russe avait toujours entendu son homonyme se dévaloriser, aussi l'affirmation ne ressemblait en rien à de la vantardise. D'ailleurs Phichit qui connaissait son meilleur ami par coeur ne chercha pas à contester cet état de fait.- Comment veux-tu retrouver un truc invisible ? s'agaça le Thaïlandais.- On a des techniques mais c'est long et...- Et si je remontais sa piste odorante ?L'intervention de Yuri interrompit la chamaillerie : Katsudon et Phichit se tournèrent vers lui, bouche bée.- Quand je suis sous forme d'animagus j'ai un odorat beaucoup plus développé, et de nuit j'ai une bien meilleure vue. Je te file un coup de main ce soir, mais en échange, tu te couches tôt. Si tu dois tomber de ton balai Katsudon, ce sera à cause de mon cognard, rien d'autre ! * - Yurio ?- Mmmm ?Katsudon jeta des coups d'œil nerveux vers le reste du groupe, remit ses lunettes en place de la main qui tenait sa baguette au bout illuminé. Il accéléra le pas pour se rapprocher encore du jeune Russe afin de n'être entendu que de lui.- Otabek je comprends, son patronus est bien utile. Mais pourquoi est-ce que Victor est avec nous aussi ?- T'as pas encore remarqué qu'il te colle ?Le Japonais ouvrit et ferma la bouche à plusieurs reprises tel un poisson sur la berge, d'ailleurs son regard brillait de la même intelligence. Yuri ne comprenait pas ce que son cousin avait de si impressionnant - c'était juste un abruti comme un autre -, aussi les réactions nerveuses de son homonyme le dépassaient, voire l'irritaient un brin.Un crétin amoureux d'un autre crétin un peu lent, ça faisait un taux de crétinerie un chouilla élevé pour sa patience légendaire.- Yuuuuri ! roucoula justement Victor à cet instant en passant un bras autour des épaules de l'interpellé. Comment tu t'y prends pour retrouver un demiguise ?Dans la manoeuvre, le Yuri russe avait été éjecté du chemin. Il lança un regard mauvais à son (crétin) de cousin.- Pour commencer on peut éviter de hurler, cracha-t-il, c'est la base pour attraper un animal. N'importe quel abruti sait ça.Les yeux bleus de Victor s'éclairèrent d'une lueur malicieuse, tandis que sa propre proie tentait timidement de se dégager - sans succès.- Venant de toi, « abruti » c'est presque un compliment.- Ta gueule ! On s'y met ou on prend le thé ? Par où je commence Katsudon ?Ce dernier parvint enfin à se libérer de l'étreinte pieuvresque. La question lui permit également de reprendre contenance : il revenait en terrain connu.D'un geste vif, il leva sa baguette magique, traça quelques traits dans l'air pour dessiner un croquis de l'île de Minamiiwo.- Les profs et moi avons déjà passé toutes ces zones au peigne fin, indiqua-t-il en ajoutant quelques taches de couleur, et installé des barrières pour empêcher les demiguises de s'y déplacer. Il ne reste donc que cette portion au sud-est à explorer.Le cadet du groupe ignora les "wow" admiratifs de Victor qui observait les lumières et teintes du dessin magique, pour se concentrer sur les explications.- L'idée, poursuivit Katsudon en rosissant un peu sous les compliments, c'est que tu puisses repérer les demiguises à distance. Ils ont une capacité de prédiction de l'avenir immédiat, mais uniquement pour ce qu'ils peuvent voir autour d'eux et s'ils sont réveillés. Une fois qu'on saura à peu près où ils se trouvent, je pourrai utiliser une formule pour révéler leur présence, si possible sans être vu. La véritable difficulté va être de les immobiliser avant qu'ils puissent redevenir invisibles et nous échapper.À sa grimace, le jeune Yuri devina que la manoeuvre risquait d'être délicate.- Mon patronus peut survoler les lieux pour mieux les localiser, intervint Otabek.Au fil de leur conversation, les quatre adolescents s'étaient peu à peu enfoncés dans la jungle et avaient ainsi atteint les abords de la zone à explorer. L'impatience s'empara de Yuri, un délicieux bourdonnement vibra sous sa peau, comme chaque fois qu'il s'apprêtait à utiliser son pouvoir chèrement gagné.- Assez perdu de temps, déclara-t-il avec un sourire de défi, on a un crétin à mettre au lit.Il prépara sa baguette - ça l'agaçait d'en avoir encore besoin, mais pas le choix pour l'instant -, lança le sort. Le bourdonnement augmenta, devint vrombissement d'un essaim furieux, emplit tout son corps et son esprit.Yuri tomba à quatre pattes. Ses mains s'épaissirent, des griffes apparurent à leur extrêmité ; son corps s'allongea, grandit, se couvrit d'une fourrure dorée rayée de noir ; une longue queue poussa ; de nombreuses odeurs l'envahirent soudain.Victor ramassa sa baguette pour la garder en lieu sûr, puis avança la main pour faire mine de le gratter derrière l'oreille.- Maintenant tu es vraiment un mignon chaton, taquina-t-il.Le tigre voulu insulter son cousin mais seul un grognement profond s'échappa de sa gorge, il dévoila ses crocs et fit mine de les faire claquer près de la main tendue. La manoeuvre n'eut pour tout effet que de faire rire son aîné, coutumier de ses sautes d'humeur sous toutes ses formes - félines ou humaines. * Les fichues bestioles n'étaient pas faciles à repérer et la nuit était à présent tout à fait tombée. Chaque fois que l'un de ses compagnons trébuchait, Yuri appréciait un peu plus sa vision féline - surtout si elle lui permettait d'avoir un avantage sur son cousin qui pestait régulièrement entre ses dents contre les racines traîtresses.Katsudon lui avait fait renifler une touffe de poils de demiguise pour le lancer sur leur piste, mais la jungle était en elle-même un énorme pot-pourri. La chaleur humide exacerbait le moindre arôme, d'ailleurs Yuri fronça le museau après avoir senti ostensiblement Victor qui fit mine d'en être offensé.Enfin, après plusieurs fausses pistes - un singe et un boursouf -, Yuri repéra l'un des évadés endormi sur une branche.L'opération de capture se passa ensuite sans accroc : Katsudon envoya son sort de révélation ; le patronus d'Otabek localisa exactement l'animal ; Victor l'endormit avant qu'il ne puisse réagir tandis que Katsudon ralentissait sa chute.- Et de un ! s'exclama le capitaine russe avec son sourire en coeur.Ce dernier se figea lorsqu'il posa les yeux sur la créature dans les bras de Katsudon : tout son pelage avait été tondu, plus la moindre trace des longs poils gris. Victor fronça les sourcils, mais Otabek le devança pour poser la question qui brûlait leurs lèvres à tous les trois.- Il va bien ?- Il a l'air, répondit Katsudon en le manipulant avec délicatesse, je ne vois aucune plaie, son coeur a un rythme normal. Mais je comprends mieux pourquoi on n'a pas pu l'attraper avec une friandise comme les autres, il a dû être traumatisé.Son ton avait pris une teinte tranchante, aiguisée par une colère froide. Sans un mot supplémentaire, il confia un instant l'animal endormi à un Victor surpris, puis réarrangea son haori pour installer le demiguise en hamac devant lui.- Il faut retrouver le dernier, déclara le Japonais d'un ton décidé.Le tigre doré hocha la tête, puis avança de nouveau nez au vent, à la recherche d'une nouvelle piste. * Lorsqu'il repéra cette dernière de nombreuses odeurs parasites y étaient mêlées. Pour un peu, il serait passé à côté.Quelque chose clochait. Clairement. Ca puait, au sens propre.Il grogna pour l'indiquer à ses compagnons.- Yurio ? chuchota Katsudon. Il y a un problème ?Le tigre hocha la tête. Agita la queue nerveusement. Putain mais pourquoi il ne pouvait pas parler sous sa forme animagus ? S'il n'avait pas peur de perdre l'effluve ténue, il l'aurait quittée un instant.À défaut, il s'aplatit, s'approcha de la clairière suspecte à pas furtifs, tel un fauve à l'affût de sa proie.Cette dernière ne fuirait plus nulle part.Un pentacle semblable à celui découvert avec le corps d'Akari flottait au-dessus de cinq bougies disposées sur la circonférence d'un cercle de sel. Au centre, le dernier demiguise était disposé, tondu lui aussi, éventré, gisant dans son propre sang.Le corps dégageait une odeur de début de décomposition, mais les bougies empestaient bien plus, couvrant presque toutes les senteurs qui entouraient Yuri, saturant son odorat.Il quitta sa forme d'animagus brutalement, saisi de sentiments trop humains pour rester ainsi. Une nausée violente le saisit et il rendit son repas dans le buisson à sa gauche.C'est alors qu'il le vit. Ses yeux étaient redevenus humains, mais il avait conservé son acuité nocturne.À quelques mètres de là, entre deux fougères arborescentes, Christophe Giacometti quittait les lieux avec discrétion. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Six ans plus tôt - Maman, qu'est-ce que ça veut dire "kill the story" ?Le visage d'ange de Phichit était plissé de concentration, son regard fixé sur un article de La Gazette du Sorcier. Tous les jours, le petit garçon lisait le journal britannique de bout en bout pour améliorer son anglais.L'édition entre ses mains relatait un scandale financier qui impliquaient plusieurs sorciers et gobelins de Gringotts, sans compter quelques elfes de maison - mais ces derniers n'étaient pas considérés responsables de leurs actes s'ils agissaient sous les ordres de leur maître. Remettre en cause l'intégrité de la fameuse banque risquait de créer un vent de panique, aussi le ministère de la magie britannique avait tenté sans succès de garder cette histoire secrète.La mère de Phichit jeta un coup d'œil rapide à l'article pour comprendre le contexte de sa question.- Ah ! Ça veut dire étouffer une affaire.Le garçon leva un regard perplexe, la signification lui échappait manifestement.- C'est quoi ?- Hum... voyons... réfléchit-elle en se tapotant le menton. Disons que quand un évènement risque de causer du tort à des gens haut placés, ceux-ci essayent de s'arranger pour que personne ne l'apprenne. C'est assez courant dans les milieux politiques, d'ailleurs ton père... Sourd au nième discours anarchiste de sa mère, Phichit fixa la Gazette, sourcils froncés, essayant de lire entre les lignes - elle lui disait souvent qu'il fallait lire entre les lignes mais il ne voyait pourtant jamais rien y apparaître - dans l'espoir de mieux comprendre. Sur une photo, un groupe de gobelins s'agitaient, l'un d'eux envoyait paître un journaliste, tandis qu'un autre essayait de s'éclipser de la scène de chaos. Il ne manquait que le son pour s'y croire.- Et comment on fait pour étouffer une affaire ?L'interrogation interrompit le récit de la rencontre des parents de Phichit, alors que l'une avait réussi à pénétrer au ministère de la magie avec d'autres manifestants pour contester un projet de loi et que l'autre y travaillait déjà à gravir les échelons vers le poste le plus élevé. Elle disait souvent que rien ne les destinaient à se rencontrer, moins encore à vivre ensemble, mais que parfois les opposés s'attiraient. Leur fils ainé avait hérité de l'esprit frondeur de sa mère, enveloppé dans le charisme de son père, une combinaison qui lui permettait de mettre n'importe qui dans sa poche - et il le savait.- Eh bien, si l'on a assez d'argent, on peut acheter le silence des gens. Ou alors on détourne l'opinion publique vers autre chose. Certains moldus disent "du pain et des jeux" : si la population a l'assiette pleine et des matchs sportifs à suivre, ça occupe les esprits. Il est aussi possible d'enterrer une affaire avec un prétexte quelconque, une fausse conclusion.La réponse sembla enfin satisfaire le petit garçon qui se contenta d'un hochement de tête ferme avant de reprendre sa lecture. * Jour présent Yuri donna un nouveau coup de pied rageur dans une pierre qui vola à travers le jardin intérieur. Silencieux, Phichit le laissa passer ses nerfs, attendant avec une patience admirable qu'il verbalise sa colère. - Rhaaaaa !!! Furieux, le Japonais se passa les mains dans les cheveux, à deux doigts de se les arracher.- "Vol de matériaux magiques" ? Non mais sérieux ? "Vol de matériaux magiques" ? Ils se foutent de qui au ministère ?Nouveau coup de pied. Nouveau lancer de caillou. Les sourcils froncés, Phichit fixa les poings de son ami, si serrés que les jointures des doigts en étaient blanches.- Ah par contre pour parler du tournoi, y'a du monde. Mais les pentacles hein ? Ils en font quoi des pentacles ?- Yuri. - Tu ne les as pas vus Phichit, mais à chaque fois ça ressemblait à un rituel de magie interdite. Pourquoi faire ça simplement pour voler un pelage de demiguise ? Encore pour le premier...- YURI ! Le ton du Thaïlandais tira enfin l'interpellé de son propre espace mental. Il cessa de ressasser ses arguments pour se tourner vers son compagnon.- Tu as raison, le rassura Phichit, le visage grave, c'est une excuse idiote. Une façon de classer l'affaire, c'est tout. Le quidditch leur permet de détourner l'attention de tout le monde. Du pain et des jeux.- Hein ?- Une expression que ma mère m'a apprise.L'explication ne sembla pas aider Yuri - pourtant issu d'une famille non-maj', sans doute un truc culturel -, mais Phichit balaya le sujet d'un geste de la main. - Clairement, une ou plusieurs personnes sur l'île poursuit un but pourri, d'une manière pourrie et le ministère étouffe le truc pour éviter que ça s'ébruite. Soit ils ne savent pas comment gérer, soit ils craignent un incident diplomatique. Bref, la question principale c'est : à quoi servent ces fichus pentacles ? Irrité, Yuri leva les yeux au ciel. Les évènements récents, le match du lendemain contre Durmstrang, la tension qui l'avait empêchée de dormir : l'adolescent était à cran. - Bien sûr il suffit de faire quelques recherches à la bibli, la magie interdite doit y être répertoriée. Quelque part entre le sortilège pour faire un arc-en-ciel et celui pour cracher des bulles de savon.- T'es pas aimable quand t'es sur les nerfs tu sais ? Mon père a accès à des trucs classés secret, je vais l'appeler par un moyen protégé. En attendant on a cours, ramène-toi.Sur ces mots, il se redressa, épousseta son uniforme et s'assura que ses hamsters s'y trouvaient tous les trois - les dernières victimes ne lui donnaient guère envie de les perdre des yeux. * Coller un entraînement de quidditch supplémentaire entre midi et deux était peut-être un peu rude, mais aucun joueur de Mahoutokoro ne protesta. Leur premier match - qui inaugurait ce tournoi d'un genre nouveau - se tiendrait le lendemain, contre Durmstrang, et il régnait une tension à couper au couteau.Phichit aurait pourtant bien voulu profiter un peu plus de son repas.- C'est vrai quoi, c'était des ramen au menu tout de même !Son meilleur ami l'ignora, perdu dans ses pensées. Le Thaïlandais le considéra un instant d'un air calculateur avant de lui chatouiller les flancs de la pointe de son balais. - Aïe ! Yuri sursauta, se massa le côté attaqué en jetant un regard noir vers Phichit.- Je sais pas si tu es plus préoccupé par l'histoire des pentacles ou du match, mais dans le premier cas tu ne peux rien faire tout de suite. Dans le second, on est justement là pour s'y préparer.Pour seule réponse, il obtint quelques grommèlements agacés : Yuri n'était décidément pas à prendre avec des pincettes. L'attrapeur japonais était de si mauvaise humeur qu'il en oublia de rougir lorsque Victor lui fit un signe de la main enthousiaste. Distrait, il lui rendit son salut, puis se tourna vers son équipe avec une détermination nouvelle.Phichit haussa les épaules. Ce n'était pas la première fois qu'il supportait une journée de mauvaise humeur de son meilleur ami et celui-ci avait des raisons valables de se comporter ainsi.- Prêt pour le match de demain petit hamster ?Le coeur de Phichit fit un soubresaut. Avant de se retourner vers Christophe, il se composa un visage imperturbable, sourire lumineux en bandoulière.- Giacometti. Ne t'inquiète pas, je compte bien t'affronter dans un match à un moment. Mahoutokoro ira jusqu'en finale.Le capitaine de Beauxbatons était toujours aussi diablement séduisant. Il n'était là qu'en spectateur, aussi portait-il l'uniforme bleu ciel de son école qui mettait si bien en valeur ses hanches. Ses épaules. Et le reste."Reste concentré Chulanont."Le Suisse leva un sourcil surpris, accompagné d'un sourire à faire fondre à iceberg. Un instant, Phichit craignit qu'il n'ait recours à son arme de séduction massive - alias sa magie vélane. Il prépara ses défenses mentales, mais nulle lumière irréelle ne nimba les cheveux dorés.- Oh ? Tu es revenu à mon nom de famille petit hamster ?- Et toi à ce surnom ridicule.Il appuya la réponse d'un haussement d'épaules faussement détaché, avant de s'éclipser. Yuuko venait justement d'appeler les membres de l'équipe pour débuter la séance.Timing parfait. Phichit n'avait pas envie de s'éterniser auprès de Christophe pour l'instant. Les souvenirs de la soirée étaient trop frais et il n'arrivait pas à déterminer s'ils avaient partagé un de ces moments ou non. Ni ce que cela lui inspirait.Alors qu'il marchait vers Minami pour récupérer sa batte, un obus blond lui fonça dessus, manquant de l'envoyer valser dans l'herbe. Phichit reprit son équilibre de justesse.- Ça va pas bien Yurio ?!Le regard vert lançait des éclairs furieux. Pas vraiment inhabituel de la part de cette boule d'hormones en ébullition, mais tout de même. Quelque chose clochait dans son attitude.- Évite de te rapprocher de Chris, cracha le chaton.Cette fois Phichit était certain : le jeune Russe ne se trouvait pas dans son état normal. L'avertissement le prit tant au dépourvu qu'il faillit laisser partir Yurio sans répondre. Déjà, ce dernier s'était retourné pour s'éloigner. Phichit lui saisit le bras.- Eh ! Pourquoi tu me dis ça ? C'est pas un bon ami de ton cousin ?Le blondinet se dégagea d'un mouvement sec.- Simple conseil. Puis il disparu comme il était venu, tel un courant d'air. Phichit cligna des yeux trois fois, sonné et perdu. * Un cours de dokushinjutsu juste après ça n'était sans doute pas l'idéal. Déjà à l'entraînement, Phichit s'était montré distrait, et plusieurs joueurs avaient échappé de peu aux cognards.Des tatamis, des panneaux de papier couleur crème : la salle de classe était la plus sobre de Mahoutokoro - Haneki-sensei disait que cela favorisait la concentration, Phichit trouvait ça d'un ennui monstrueux. Les autres duos étaient déjà tous arrivés, installés en seiza l'un en face de l'autre. Les jumelles Fumi et Yuki, distinctes uniquement par leur coupe de cheveux et la couleur de leur haori, discutaient avec Yuri. Phichit les soupçonnaient d'en pincer pour son meilleur ami, mais celui-ci était poliment indifférent à leurs charmes.- Vous êtes le dernier monsieur Chulanont, constata le professeur.Le coupable lui offrit son sourire le plus éclatant pour répondre, à l'instant même où la sonnerie qui marquait le début du cours retentissait.- Mais techniquement je ne suis pas encore en retard.À travers son énorme nez, le tengu souffla d'exaspération, mais se contenta de désigner à Phichit son partenaire qui l'attendait.- Aujourd'hui nous allons encore augmenter la difficulté, commença-t-il sans préambule. Jusqu'ici vous avez toujours maintenu un contact visuel entre vous lors des séances. Seulement si quelqu'un essaye d'envahir votre esprit, il ne va pas vous envoyer un hibou d'invitation.Tous les élèves étaient à présent sérieux et concentrés sur les instructions. Les séances précédentes avaient été consacrées au lancer du sort legilimens sans le prononcer à voix haute. Dans ce cours avancé, tous y étaient parvenus, parfois sans l'aide de leur baguette.- À présent, je veux que vous appreniez à défendre votre esprit sans rien voir ou entendre venir. Vous devez réagir uniquement au stimuli d'invasion mentale.Un murmure anxieux parcouru la salle. Ce que le professeur attendait d'eux était du très haut niveau, même pour les meilleurs d'entre eux. Et, sans la moindre vantardise, Phichit était le meilleur de l'école dans cette discipline. Seulement il était déjà sur les nerfs et savait qu'il serait plus difficile de résister aux assauts de Yuri qui était loin d'être mauvais lui-même, surtout s'il voulait éviter de lui montrer un certain souvenir. Haneki-sensei conjura d'un mouvement de la main des foulards, qu'il distribua à chaque duo. Il en fourra un dans les mains de Phichit qui espérait passer en second pour l'exercice, mais se retrouva devant le fait accompli.Il se banda les yeux, balança le poids de son corps d'un genoux à l'autre, nerveux.- Bien, annonça le professeur, quand vous voulez.À tout instant, Yuri pouvait tenter de percer ses défenses. Phichit ne parvenait à penser à rien d'autre. Son ouïe ne lui servirait à rien, il en avait conscience, aussi se concentra-t-il sur... Il perçut la sensation trop tard, rien ne pouvait plus empêcher Yuri d'accéder à son esprit. Tout le monde avait quitté la fête, il ne restait plus à Phichit qu'à ranger les lanternes flottantes. L'affaire de quelques instants avec sa baguette. - Accio lanternes. Les lampes de papier volèrent jusqu'à lui. Il en rattrapa quelques unes, se débattit avec d'autres, deux lui échappèrent des mains... ... pour atterrir dans celles de Christophe. Le Thaïlandais marmonna un remerciement, rangea rapidement les objets avant de souhaiter bonne nuit au capitaine de Beauxbatons. Puis ils se séparèrent et... - Phichit, on n'étudie pas les altérations de souvenirs aujourd'hui !Le ton de Yuri était irrité.- Ne me prends pas pour un idiot, ajouta-t-il. Nerveux, l'accusé leva un coin de son masque pour jeter un coup d'œil coupable : Yuri le dévisageait sévèrement, les bras croisés. Lors de leurs premières séances de dokushinjutsu, Phichit avait réussi à falsifier des souvenirs sans se faire repérer. Depuis, son ami avait cependant appris à déceler le flou suspect, les éclats ternes issus de l'invention et la nervosité née du mensonge qui caractérisaient ces altérations.Phichit soupira, fit un signe d'excuse à son compagnon et lui indiqua de reprendre la séance. Il remit le foulard en place. Se concentra de nouveau pour bloquer Yuri.Peine perdue. Tout le monde avait quitté la fête, il ne restait plus à Phichit qu'à ranger les lanternes flottantes. L'affaire de quelques instants avec sa baguette. - Accio lanternes. Les lampes de papier volèrent jusqu'à lui. Il en rattrapa quelques unes, se débattit avec d'autres, deux lui échappèrent des mains... ... pour atterrir dans celles de Christophe. Surpris, Phichit balaya la pièce sombre du regard : ils étaient seuls. La lumière magique des lanternes, semblable à la douce lueur d'un nuage de lucioles, n'éclairait que leur visage, renforçait l'impression qu'il n'y avait plus qu'eux au monde. - Chris, laissa échapper Phichit, nerveux, tu as oublié quelque chose ? En réponse, le capitaine de Beauxbatons lui sourit et, un instant, le Thaïlandais craignit qu'il utilise sa magie vélane. Il se raidit, protégea son esprit. - Tu m'appelles enfin Chris. Son expression semblait sincère, presque tendre. Troublé, Phichit tenta un haussement d'épaules désinvolte pour donner le change. - Au moins je ne t'ai jamais traité de rongeur. - Mais tu adores les hamsters. - De là à vouloir en devenir un, il y a une marge. - Tu ferais un adorable animagus. - Trop dangereux quand certains laissent traîner leur chat. Un petit rire échappa à Christophe et Phichit se détendit enfin. - Edelweiss ne les aurait pas vraiment mangés, juste joué un peu avec. - Très rassurant. - C'est à cause de cet incident que tu es toujours sur tes gardes avec moi ? Le ton était léger, joueur, mais le batteur de Mahoutokoro ne s'y trompa guère : son compagnon voulait vraiment une réponse. De nouveau, Phichit se crispa sans se départir de son visage de bluffeur. Si c'était une partie de poker, il était temps d'abattre une carte devant son adversaire. - Plutôt parce que ton comportement sonne faux. L'ambiance intimiste se refroidit soudain. Christophe eut un mouvement, presque imperceptible, de recul. - Oh. C'était tout. Il ne nia pas, ne chercha pas à approfondir l'accusation ou à se justifier. "Touché ?" se demanda Phichit. En silence il se détourna pour ranger les lanternes dans un buffet. Une à une, elles s'éteignirent, ne laissant plus que l'extrémité des baguettes des deux adolescents pour éclairer leur chemin vers les dortoirs. Parvenus à l'embranchement où ils devaient se séparer, Christophe retint son compagnon d'une main sur le bras. À la lueur des baguettes les yeux verts baissés sur Phichit brillaient d'un éclat plus grave que d'ordinaire. L'air paraissait électrique, transportait le parfum épicé de son compagnon, et il se demanda si le fameux séducteur de Beauxbatons comptait l'embrasser. Il ignorait s'il devrait - voulait - résister. Christophe soupira, puis le relâcha. - Bonne nuit Phichit. Sur ces mots, il se détourna et le planta là. C'était la première fois qu'il l'appelait par son prénom lui aussi. - Depuis quand tu essayes de me cacher des choses Phichit ? Ce n'est pas comme ça qu'on fonctionne tous les deux. Et pourquoi ce souvenir précis ?Le cours à peine terminé, Yuri l'avait entraîné dans un coin à l'écart ; il l'observait, les yeux plissés de méfiance. Son humeur ne s'était pas améliorée et Phichit comprit, avec une pointe de culpabilité, qu'esquiver la question allait s'avérer ardu. - Pour voir si tu repérais l'altération.- C'est ça.- Pour éviter que tu me poses cinquante mille questions.- Essaye encore. Le sarcasme commença à porter sur le système du Thaïlandais. Il avait beau être de nature joviale, l'ambiance tendue finissait par déteindre sur lui.- Je ne sais pas O.K ? Je ne sais pas ce que je pense de Chris, ce que je devrais en penser vu ce qui se passe. Ça n'a aucune importance, alors on peut passer à autre chose ?Pendant quelques instants, Yuri l'observa en silence, avant de hocher la tête.- J'ai entendu ce que t'as dit Yurio. Sois prudent. Phichit fronça les sourcils, toujours aussi perdu.- Tu sais quelque chose ?- Non. Mais je te connais mieux que personne, derrière ton sourire tu as un coeur d'artichaut. Je ne voudrais pas que tu sois blessé. N'oublie pas qui est ton père, peut-être qu'il cherche à t'utiliser, peut-être que Yurio a des infos, j'en sais rien. Je veux juste te protéger. * Le jour du premier match arriva enfin. Ou déjà, selon les points de vue. À la couleur du visage de Yuri, Phichit le plaça dans la seconde catégorie.Alors qu'ils attendaient dans le barnum de leur équipe avant d'entrer sur le terrain, le Thaïlandais prit la main de son ami, la serra une fois, puis la relâcha. Le geste sembla rassurer un peu Yuri qui lui fit un sourire un poil faiblard.Sa nervosité n'inquiétait pas Phichit : une fois sur son balai, Yuri serait imbattable, il le savait. En attendant, il suffisait de le distraire un peu de son anxiété.- Tu es au courant pour Georgi ?- Quoi Georgi ?- Il est malade, c'est un batteur remplaçant qui joue. Cyril je crois.Le nom sembla éveiller un souvenir pour Yuri, qui réfléchit un instant.- Il me semble qu'il est dans mon cours de magizoologie.Au doute dans la voix de Yuri, Phichit leva les yeux au ciel. Typique de sa part de ne pas faire attention aux autres élèves, y compris les nouvelles têtes. Certains pensaient le Japonais froid et inaccessible à cause de son attitude concentrée - Phichit savait à quel point c'était faux.Ils durent interrompre leur conversation : leur professeur de vol apparut pour les presser vers le terrain. L'équipe de Mahoutokoro émergea de la tente, sous un soleil radieux, un temps idéal pour jouer au quidditch.Une partie de la bambouseraie de l'île avait été dégagée pour aménager un terrain officiel. Pendant un mois, il serait utilisé trois jours par semaine pour les matchs de la première phase du tournoi.Chaque équipe entra par un point opposé du terrain, le blanc de Mahoutokoro face au rouge de Durmstrang, sous les cris enthousiastes des gradins pleins à craquer. Dans ces derniers, les élèves de chaque école s'étaient regroupés et la couleur des uniformes permettait de distinguer les établissements. Malgré lui, Phichit laissa son regard glisser vers le bleu ciel de Beauxbatons, pour accrocher celui de Christophe assis au premier rang. Les bras croisés, celui-ci hocha simplement la tête pour le saluer, avec un sourire qui semblait presque triste."Il est loin, c'est mon imagination", pensa Phichit en se concentrant sur les mots de l'arbitre, un enseignant de Poudlard.L'adrénaline afflua dans son corps et, alors qu'il enfourchait son balai, plus rien n'eut d'importance à part les balles agressives encore retenues dans leur coffre. Les cognards se débattaient, pressés d'assommer une quelconque victime, claquant contre le bois. Phichit serra le poing autour de sa batte, échangea un bref regard avec Minami, qui lui répondit d'un hochement de tête sérieux. Chacun d'eux devait couvrir une moitié du terrain, ils connaissaient leur rôle, maintes fois répété.Le sifflet retentit. En quelques instants, le souafle se retrouva entre les mains de Mila, passa d'un joueur de Durmstrang à l'autre. Les poursuiveurs de Mahoutokoro tentèrent d'enrayer la progression, en vain.- Dix points pour Durmstrang ! annonça le professeur en charge des commentaires.Les hostilités étaient lancées. * Un but suivit l'autre, les deux équipes se retrouvèrent au coude à coude rapidement, y restèrent pendant plus de trois heures.Concentré sur le mouvement des cognards, Phichit parcourait sa part de terrain sans relâche. Si Yurio était le cadet de Durmstrang, il n'en était pas le joueur le moins doué. Ou hargneux. Ses coups de batte étaient d'une précision redoutable, visant ses concurrents sans le moindre état d'âme. Jamais Phichit n'avait affronté de batteur qui présentait un tel défi. Il adorait ça.Le souafle se trouvait entre les mains de Yuuko. La capitaine remontait le terrain, concentrée sur les poursuiveurs adverses, zigzaguant avec agilité. Elle ne se préoccupait cependant pas des cognards : elle plaçait toute sa confiance en ses deux batteurs pour la protéger.- шевелись тупица ! hurla Yurio à son cousin.D'un geste agressif, il frappa, envoyant son projectile vers les deux attrapeurs au coude à coude. Le cognard fonça sur eux, les obligeant à esquiver. Et perdre de vue le vif-d'or.Le blondinet lança un chapelet de jurons russes - en tout cas ça y ressemblait beaucoup -, tandis que Victor prenait de l'altitude pour survoler le terrain, irrité du contretemps. Yuri se stabilisa un moment, jeta un coup d'oeil autour de lui.Un nouveau cognard le prit pour cible, envoyé par le second batteur de Durmstrang, Cyril.Phichit s'interposa. Dans la manoeuvre, Yuri se recula d'un mouvement vif et se retrouva au niveau des gradins. Cyril passa comme une fusée à cet instant, frôla Yuri.Le Thaïlandais eut juste le temps de voir la perplexité sur les traits de son ami avant qu'il ne prenne de l'altitude. Les deux attrapeurs volèrent en cercle au-dessus du terrain, tels des vautours. Le soleil était à présent brûlant, la sueur coulait sur les visages de tous les joueurs, la tension était à son comble. La rumeur des spectateurs parvenait à peine aux oreilles de Phichit.Pourtant, l'intonation des cris de la foule changea tout à coup. Phichit jeta un coup d'oeil, vit les doigts pointés vers le ciel. Il leva la tête à son tour.Aveuglé par le soleil, il plissa les yeux. Deux ombres se trouvaient là-haut : les attrapeurs.L'un d'eux était en chute libre. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Jour présent Un violent mal de crâne. Ce fut la première sensation qui revint à Yuri. Désorienté, il ouvrit les yeux, les referma : la lumière empirait la douleur. Tout son corps semblait être passé sous un rouleau compresseur.- Comment va-t-il ?La voix inquiète n’était pas inconnue, mais il ne s’agissait pas non plus de quelqu’un de proche. Un accent teintait son anglais. Un élève d’une autre école ?- Rien de grave Chris, répondit une seconde personne d’un ton sec, tu peux retourner voir le match. Le temps-mort est fini pas vrai ?Ah, le premier était Christophe. Qui était le second ?De nouveau, Yuri ouvrit les yeux. Il se trouvait dans la tente d’infirmerie installée près du terrain de quidditch. Le dos d’un jeune homme occupait l’embrasure de l’ouverture, sa queue de cheval argentée un contraste saisissant contre son uniforme rouge. Il portait toujours ses protections de joueur, à l’exception du casque posé avec celui de Yuri, près du lit de camp.Victor se retourna, la mâchoire sous tension, son regard bleu glacial : il semblait sur le point de commettre un meurtre.Ses yeux se posèrent sur Yuri et son expression se métamorphosa.- Yuri !Le Russe se précipita à ses côtés, s’agenouilla et prit sa main. Yuri était trop groggy pour vraiment réaliser que Victor Nikiforov se mettait à genoux devant lui.- Comment tu te sens ?Voyons. Comment se sentait-il ? Bonne question.Son compagnon continuait de le dévisager et le Japonais réalisa alors qu’il n’avait pas répondu.- Bof.La réponse du siècle, mais son cerveau embrumé ne lui en fournit aucune autre.- J’ai eu tellement peur ! J’ai réussi à te rattraper de justesse et si Yuratchka et Phichit n’avaient pas été là on serait tombé tous les deux. Tu te souviens de quelque chose avant ta chute ? N’importe quoi ?Yuri ferma les yeux - la lumière lui donnait vraiment mal au crâne - et tenta de réfléchir.Ses souvenirs étaient embrouillés. Un instant il cherchait le vif-d’or en altitude du terrain, celui d’après ses muscles ne répondaient plus. Il tenta de soulever une jambe. Engourdie, il la sentait de nouveau, mais ne pouvait la contrôler.- Est-ce que... Victor hésita. Est-ce que tu as ressenti des vertiges à un moment du match ?Surpris, Yuri rouvrit les yeux brusquement et tenta de s’asseoir. Cela se solda par un vague soubresaut avant qu’une main sur son épaule l’oblige à se rallonger.- Oui, répondit-il, la voix rauque. Pourquoi ?Victor le fixa gravement, sembla hésiter à lui répondre. Il se recula, soupira, passa une main dans ses cheveux. Ses yeux se dirigèrent vers la sortie de la tente, là où il avait échangé quelques mots avec Christophe un peu plus tôt.Enfin, il se tourna de nouveau vers le lit, un sourire plaqué sur le visage. Le Japonais savait qu’il était faux : ses yeux possédaient le tranchant du métal.- L’infirmier dit que tu es déshydraté, ça fait partie des symptômes.Sur ces mots, il attrapa une bouteille d’eau, puis aida Yuri à s’asseoir pour le faire boire. L’esprit de ce dernier commençait à retrouver un fonctionnement digne de ce nom et il réalisa que son compagnon avait parlé de temps-mort un peu plus tôt.- Le match. Qui a gagné ?La réponse semblait plutôt évidente - il n’y avait pas de remplacement de joueurs blessés lors du jeu au quidditch -, mais il préférait qu’on arrache le sparadrap d’un coup au lieu de faire durer la torture.- Hum. Personne pour l’instant - Victor détourna les yeux, s’affaira avec la bouteille comme pour s’occuper les mains. C’est qu’il n’y a plus d’attrapeur et l’un des capitaines n’est pas encore retourné sur le terrain pour arrêter le jeu.Bouche bée, Yuri le dévisagea comme s’il venait de lui annoncer que des trolls en tutu avaient envahi l’île.- Mais qu’est-ce que tu fais là alors ?Une teinte rose colora les joues et le nez du capitaine de Durmstrang, qui jeta un coup d’œil timide au convalescent.- Je voulais m’assurer que tu allais bien.Si la mâchoire de Yuri continuait sa descente il devrait bientôt creuser pour la récupérer. Le geste était incroyablement gentil - inconscient, certes, mais adorable. Il sentit sa propre peau rougir et ne trouva pas de réponse adaptée.L’infirmier choisit cet instant pour revenir, sauvant les adolescents de leur embarras commun.- Monsieur Katsuki, vous êtes réveillé. Parfait.Monsieur Maeda était un homme que l’on pouvait qualifier d’ordinaire : taille moyenne pour un Japonais, cheveux et yeux noirs, il était d’une discrétion qui frisait l’effacement. Ce genre de personne était cependant facile à côtoyer pour Yuri, qui se savait entre de bonnes mains.Tandis que l’infirmier fouillait parmi les potions dans ses étagères, Victor se leva et indiqua la sortie, le regard toujours fuyant.- Je... j’y retourne. Ou Yuratchka va m’assommer avec sa batte.- Ah. O.K."Super réplique Katsuki", pensa Yuri en réprimant une grimace.- Euh, poursuivit Victor, ça te tente une balade avec Makkachin et moi ce soir.Bien sûr que l’idée le tentait. Seulement Yuri n’avait pas vu Elias depuis plusieurs jours et ressentait le besoin de danser pour passer sa frustration - Mahoutokoro n’avait pas encore perdu, mais c’était tout comme. Il hésita un instant, toujours un peu groggy et tiraillé entre ses deux envies. Victor prit ça pour un refus.- Tu as sans doute besoin de te reposer, dit-il d’une voix triste, une autre fois peut-être.Avant que le Japonais puisse le détromper, ou même commencer à réfléchir à une réponse, la chevelure argentée disparaissait entre les pans de toile. Inconsciemment, Yuri tendit la main, comme s’il avait pu rattraper ce garçon qu’il poursuivait depuis déjà quelques années. Les sentiments que lui inspirait Victor étaient de plus en plus confus et il n’était pas certain de pouvoir mettre ça sur le compte de son malaise.- Rallongez-vous, lui demanda Monsieur Maeda en le tirant de sa rêverie.L’adolescent obéit sans un mot, se laissa ausculter. Pendant quelques minutes l’infirmier l’examina, tourna sa baguette autour de lui, lui donna une mixture immonde à avaler.- Bon, rien de grave, conclut-il.- Je peux retourner jouer ? demanda Yuri avec espoir.- Bien sûr que non, vous devez vous reposer.- Mais...Déjà, Monsieur Maeda s’était détourné et quittait les lieux. Frustré, Yuri refusa d’écouter : il se redressa, puis se leva. Le sol tangua sous ses pieds. Les dents serrées, il tenta de stabiliser ses jambes tremblantes, mais sa main glissa sur la table de chevet alors qu’il s’y rattrapait. Son casque roula à terre, dévoilant sa baguette qu’il dissimulait jusqu’alors.Il se laissa retomber sur le lit, les tempes luisantes de sueur sous l’effort. Bon d’accord, il devait admettre qu’il n’était pas en état d’enfourcher un balai, mais il avait peut-être encore le temps, si seulement...Ses doigts bougèrent seuls pour se saisir de sa baguette. Il en imbiba l’extrêmité d’une goutte de sang, traça le cercle d’invocation et aussitôt Hebi-chan apparut.- Salut, lui dit le garçon, tu penses pouvoir me soigner ?Nimbé d’une lueur bleue pâle, le serpent l’observa, soucieux. Il vint se lover contre le coeur de son maître et la lumière qui l’entourait brilla plus fort, obligea Yuri à fermer les yeux. Une douce chaleur l’envahit, se répandit dans ses veines, se diffusa jusqu’à l’extrêmité de ses membres.Tremblements et courbatures s’envolèrent et le brouillard de son esprit se leva enfin. Un gouffre de fatigue s’abattit cependant sur lui et l’obligea à se rallonger.- Hebi-chan, gémit-il, je voulais retourner sur le terrain.- Toute magie a un prix Yuri, j’ai dû puiser dans ton énergie pour purger ton corps du poison.À demi-conscient, l’adolescent enregistra les mots, mais ne trouva pas la force d’y réagir avant de sombrer dans le sommeil. * Évidemment, la victoire de Durmstrang ne fut plus qu’une formalité, mais elle laissa un goût amer au cadet de l’équipe. La colère du jeune Yuri ne parvenait cependant pas à rivaliser avec la rage glaciale de son cousin : Victor arborait un masque impassible, mais qui ne le trompait pas.Mahoutokoro avait encore toutes ses chances d’accéder à la phase suivante du tournoi, cependant une défaite de cette nature pouvait déprimer même le joyeux Phichit. Ce dernier avait quitté le terrain trop vite pour que Yuri puisse lui parler, sans doute pour aller voir comment se portait Katsudon.Un frisson de terreur rétrospective parcourut l’échine du garçon. Il avait vu l’attrapeur japonais plonger vers le sol ; Victor le retenir d’une main, à deux doigts de se faire entraîner à son tour par le poids de son rival inconscient. Il n’avait pas fallu deux secondes de réflexion à Yuri et Phichit pour foncer les aider et ainsi éviter le pire.À présent son crétin de cousin était déprimé, aussi le blondinet décida de l’accompagner lors de sa promenade sur la plage avec Makkachin. Des fois qu’il lui vienne l’idée idiote de se foutre en l’air dans l’océan. Pas trop le genre de Victor, mais allez savoir ce qui lui passait parfois par la tête.- T’as bien pris ton temps pour revenir lors du temps mort, cracha Yuri avec morgue.Sans un mot, Victor se pencha pour ramasser un baton abandonné par la marée. Les oreilles de Makkachin se dressèrent d’intérêt, le caniche sautilla sur place, l’arrière-train agité par les va-et-vient joyeux de sa queue. Comme son maître tardait à commencer le jeu, il aboya.Le baton fusa vers l’océan. Makkachin se jeta à l’eau, éclaboussant tout autour de lui.- C’était pas un malaise naturel, répondit enfin Victor.Il maintenait les yeux obstinément sur son chien qui barbotait avec insouciance. Intense, le regard vert de son cadet le fixait, tandis qu’il attendait la suite.- Je crois... - Victor hésita. Je crois que Chris a utilisé sa magie vélane sur lui.Yuri voulut donner son avis, mais Makkachin choisit cet instant précis pour débouler entre eux, poser son baton et se secouer avec délectation. Langue pendante, il implorait du regard un nouveau lancer, sourd aux injures du jeune Russe.Nouveau jet de baton, nouveau silence de Victor que Yuri n’osait briser. Bien sûr, ils soupçonnaient déjà Christophe de tremper dans ces histoires, son intervention n’était donc pas à écarter, mais pouvait-il seulement provoquer une chute à cette distance sans se faire repérer ? C’était peu probable.Une mouette cria au-dessus d’eux, tandis que le ressac paraissait assourdissant.- La prochaine fois que je vois Yuri seul à seul, dit soudain Victor, je vais lui dire la vérité.Son cousin fronça les sourcils.- Bonne décision, mais pourquoi...Il s’interrompit : dans l’angle de son champ de vision, un éclat qui n’avait rien de naturel apparut au sommet de la falaise.- Eh ! C’est à qui ce patronus ?Victor leva les yeux : le nuage de lumière d’un patronus incorporel descendait jusqu’à eux, flottant dans l’air. La forme grossière ne permettait pas d’identifier son lanceur, mais il était ainsi capable de transmettre des messages.- Vic, je dois te parler au plus tôt.La voix de Christophe.- En privé. Mais VRAIMENT privé, confidentiel. C’est important Victor.La lumière s’estompa jusqu’à disparaître. Il ne resta que la plage et les rochers.- C’est un piège !Inquiet, Yuri saisit le coude de son cousin qui sortait déjà sa baguette pour répondre. L’idée de le laisser seul avec celui qu’ils soupçonnaient de tremper dans ces histoires dangereuses donnait des nausées au garçon. La silhouette du Suisse qui fuyait entre les arbres lors de leur macabre découverte ne quittait pas son esprit. L’odeur de putréfaction et d’encens de ce soir là vint couvrir les embruns et Yuri retint un haut-le-cœur.- Expecto patronum, prononça Victor sans ciller.Toute couleur quitta le visage de Yuri. Un simargl apparut devant eux. Patronus rarissime, le chien ailé rendait Victor aisé à identifier aussi changea-t-il d’avis : il fit disparaître la créature pour créer à son tour un patronus sans forme distincte.- Chris, retrouve-moi dans ma cabine dans un quart d’heure.Le message s’envola vers son destinataire et Victor siffla Makkachin pour rentrer rapidement vers le Skidbladnir. Il marchait à grand pas, ce qui obligeait Yuri à presque courir pour rester à sa hauteur.- Victor ! Tu ne peux pas le rencontrer seul ! C’est de la folie ! Qui sait de quoi il est capable ?- Qui a dit que je serai seul ? * Nerveux, Christophe jeta un coup d’œil de chaque côté du couloir devant sa chambre avant de s’y engager. Même s’il avait pris soin de lancer un sort de camouflage sur lui-même, il préférait s’assurait que personne ne se trouvait dans les parages. Ce qu’il voulait révéler à Victor devait rester secret, sous peine de les mettre en danger tous les deux.À pas rapides, il quitta le palais pour descendre vers la crique où mouillait le Skidbladnir. Pour la centième fois, il se demanda s’il prenait la bonne décision. Pour la centième fois, il en conclut qu’il arrivait au bout de ses options.En cette fin d’après-midi, le vaisseau noir était peu fréquenté, les élèves de Durmstrang se trouvaient pour la plupart sur l’île. À deux reprises le Suisse dut toutefois éviter quelques personnes, avant d’emprunter la coursive qui menait à la cabine de Victor.Devant sa porte, il leva son charme de camouflage, frappa avant d’entrer rapidement.Il resta un instant interdit en découvrant le jeune Yuri, baguette brandie devant lui, aux côtés de Victor. Appuyé contre le mur, bras croisés - et armé lui aussi nota Christophe dont le regard s’attarda sur l’épée à sa ceinture -, ce dernier lui accorda à peine un sourire froid. Makkachin et Potya étaient étrangement absents, comme si les deux Russes les avaient mis en sécurité.- Vic...- Yuratchka reste. Il peut entendre ce que tu as à me dire.Le ton n’invitait pas à la discussion, aussi le Suisse se contenta d’un soupir de défaite. Vu l’ambiance, les cousins le soupçonnaient donc : la constatation ne fit que renforcer sa détermination.Il passa une main dans ses cheveux, nerveux, puis jeta un coup d’oeil autour d’eux.- Aucun risque d’être entendus ?- Nous avons d’excellents charmes de protection, rétorqua Victor d’un ton sec. Je t’écoute Christophe.Ce dernier grimaça, blessé malgré lui : son ami ne l’appelait jamais par son prénom complet. Il sortit de sa poche un flacon, le montra à ses compagnons.- Qu’est-ce que c’est ? demanda le plus jeune.Christophe pointa sa baguette sur le liquide transparent à l’intérieur, aussi quelconque que de l’eau.- Specialis revelio.Le révélasort de Scarpin prévu pour identifier la composition d’une potion en révéla un à un les ingrédients. Une exclamation étouffée échappa à Victor.- Du veritaserum ?!- J’ai besoin que tu me fasses confiance, expliqua le Suisse avec un sourire triste.Et sur ces mots, il avala une gorgée de la potion. Les deux Russes n’eurent pas le temps de l’en empêcher.- Bordel tu fous quoi ? pesta Yurio en lui arrachant le flacon des mains. C’est illégal cette merde !- Rien à foutre, rétorqua Christophe, déjà sous l’effet du sérum, j’ai plus rien à perdre. Vic, je veux pas que tu meures.Choqué, Victor le dévisagea, pâle comme un cadavre.- Quoi ?- Tu vois, il y a quelques temps il m’est arrivé un truc dingue... * Quelques mois plus tôt Christophe se réveilla dans le noir absolu.Terrifiante, la sensation lui donna la certitude d’être soudain devenu aveugle. Il s’agita, tenta de bouger ses mains et pieds entravés, sa respiration accéléra.- Du calme Giacometti, on veut juste discuter avec toi.Quelqu’un retira le sac sur sa tête. Enfin Christophe respirait. La lumière lui brûla les yeux, mais il poussa un soupir de soulagement : ils fonctionnaient.Ses bras et jambes étaient attachés à une chaise et face à lui se tenaient quatre personnes masquées. L’une d’elle était plutôt grande - un adulte ? -, mais les trois autres semblaient dans leur adolescence.Il essaya alors de déterrer son dernier souvenir : comme d’habitude il était resté derrière son équipe après l’entraînement, afin de fermer le local du materiel. L’après-midi touchait à sa fin, étirant les ombres sur les jardins à la française de l’académie de Beauxbâtons. Seul, il en avait parcouru les allées, pour rejoindre le château Renaissance qui abritait cours et dortoirs.Et puis plus rien.Il n’avait rien vu, rien entendu venir, sa conscience s’était juste éteinte comme si quelqu’un en avait actionné l’interrupteur.De nouveau, Christophe jeta un coup d’œil à son environnement : une pièce aux murs gris, sans fenêtre, dans laquelle aucun bruit extérieur ne filtrait. La pierre du château était blanche, mais reposait sur des vestiges du Moyen-Âge dans lesquels les élèves ne se rendaient jamais.Des caves, pratiquement oubliées. Le lieu parfait pour faire disparaître quelqu’un.Christophe étouffa la panique qui lui tordait l’estomac et se composa une expression blasée.- Désolé pour ces méthodes brutales, commença le plus grand ravisseur - une femme d’après sa voix. Nous avons juste besoin que tu nous écoutes.Un instant le capitaine de Beauxbâtons calcula ses chances de s’en sortir grâce à sa magie vélane. Seulement, il ne connaissait pas ses adversaires.Il opta pour son charme naturel et flasha un sourire séduisant.- C’est un peu rustre en effet, il suffisait de me demander gentiment.Un clin d’œil. La femme gloussa et une des autres personnes masquées rougit.- Je vois que tu es dans de bonnes dispositions, je n’en attendais pas moins du petit-fils d’Eugénie Giacometti.À ce nom, Christophe se retint de montrer son dégoût ou sa surprise. Il conserva sa façade d’amabilité.Il n’avait jamais connu sa grand-mère paternelle et pour cause : pro sang-pur, celle-ci avait renié son fils lorsqu’il était tombé amoureux d’une demi-vélane. Christophe ne savait pas grand chose d’elle, le sujet était trouble et épineux dans sa famille. Mais il en savait assez pour la ranger dans la case des héritiers des Mangemorts.Ce qui signifiait qu’il se trouvait en mauvaise compagnie.- Je vais être directe dans ce cas, poursuivit la femme, nous avons besoin de ton aide pour atteindre le ministre Nikiforov.Cette fois, il ne put retenir sa confusion. N’importe qui serait décontenancé dans une situation pareille, aussi il tenta de réfléchir à toute allure à ses options.- C’est à dire ? Et dans quel but ?L’inconnue tapota sa baguette dans la paume de sa main, amusée par ces questions.- En résumé, pour sortir les sorciers du secret, je ne peux pas t’en dire trop. Même si tu nous rejoins tu n’auras pas accès à toutes les informations, mesure de sécurité, mais sache que ta grand-mère n’aurait pas hésité un instant.Elle fit une pause pour pointer sa baguette sur lui ; deux de ses compagnons chuchotèrent quelque chose entre eux ; le dernier crispa sa main sur sa baguette. Christophe se força à calmer les battements de son cœur et à écouter.- Nous voulons ton aide pour assassiner Victor Nikiforov.Nouvelle surprise. Christophe s’obligea à maintenir son jeu : ses interlocuteurs devaient absolument croire qu’il était à l’aise.Il arbora son meilleur sourire comme un bouclier, fit les yeux doux à la femme et choisit son ton le plus charmeur.- Comment puis-je vous aider ? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Jour présent Victor crispa la main sur la poignée de son épée. À sa gauche, il sentit son cousin prêt à sauter à la gorge de Christophe. - Tu peux répéter ? demanda-t-il à son meilleur ami. Tu as accepté d'aider à m'assassiner, c'est bien ça ? Toujours sous l'influence du veritaserum, le Suisse n'hésita pas un instant avant de répondre. - C'est ça. - Enfoiré, je vais te... De sa main libre, Victor retint le geste de Yuri. Son regard glacier ne quittait cependant pas Christophe. - Pourquoi ? - Parce que si je les avais envoyés au diable, ils m'auraient effacé la mémoire ou pire, mis sous sortilège d'impérium. Et je n'aurais pas pu te protéger. Ni découvrir leur identité. À ces mots, le capitaine de Durmstrang se détendit un peu - juste un rien, imperceptible à l'œil nu. Une autre question lui brûlait la langue : - As-tu utilisé ta magie vélane sur Yuri Katsuki lors du match ? - Oui. Avant de réaliser ce qu'il faisait, Victor avait dégainé son épée. La pointe à quelques millimètres de la gorge de Christophe brillait de l'éclat bleu de la glace et la température de la pièce chutait déjà. Interdit, Yuri hoqueta de surprise, mais le Suisse ne cilla pas. - Tu veux dire, cracha Victor, que tu as essayé de le tuer ? - Ma magie peut tout juste déstabiliser quelqu'un un court instant. Je devais seulement m'assurer de la victoire de ton équipe, ils veulent t'assassiner lors de la finale. L'épée tressaillit. Sous l'effet de la potion de vérité, Christophe ne prenait aucun gant pour ménager son ami qui avait blanchi. Sa magie reflua de son arme mais il ne la retira pas. - Alors pourquoi a-t-il perdu connaissance ? demanda le jeune Yuri comme son cousin restait muet. - Mon intervention a permis à Cyril de lui injecter un poison. J'ignorais ce qui était prévu, je reçois les instructions au compte-goutte. Mais je l'ai vu piquer la nuque de Yuri avec sa bague lorsqu'il l'a bousculé. L'information secoua Victor hors de sa torpeur. - Tu ne savais pas que Yuri risquait sa vie ? - Non. Dans le cas contraire, je ne sais pas ce que j'aurais fait, mais je n'ai jamais voulu lui faire de mal. Pendant quelques instants, les deux amis se jaugèrent en silence, la tension palpable dans l'atmosphère. Puis, avec un soupir, Victor se recula et rengaina son épée. - Pourquoi prendre le risque de me parler maintenant ? Pourquoi pas plus tôt ? - J'espérais éviter de t'impliquer, mais je suis dépassé par les évènements. Après ce match, je suis terrorisé à l'idée de me planter et de te perdre. J'ai peur de blesser sérieusement d'autres personnes si je n'interviens pas. - Si je suis leur cible, je suis automatiquement impliqué, rétorqua Victor d'un ton sec. Et je savais déjà que quelque chose se tramait. * Quelques semaines plus tôt - Expecto patronum ! Le simargl s'échappa de la baguette de Victor, immense et majestueux. D'un coup d'aile, le chien ailé traversa la salle d'entraînement, poursuivit par Makkachin qui sautillait en aboyant. - Non, non, non ! s'époumona Yakov. Un patronus incorporel je t'ai dit. Incorporel ! Celui-ci est beaucoup trop reconnaissable. Victor grimaça et l'animal magique s'évapora. Depuis qu'il maîtrisait ce sort, il trouvait plus simple de créer un patronus complet, d'autant que l'incorporel n'était pas aussi puissant. Seulement le jeune homme était doté d'une créature rare, qui permettait de l'identifier à coup sûr et son père insistait pour qu'il garde cette forme secrète. De nouveau, il se prépara, baguette levée, quand la lourde porte du hall s'ouvrit sur ce dernier. - Yakov, Vitya, les salua Alekseï d'un ton rapide, un épais dossier sous le bras, j'ai besoin de vous parler.Inconsciemment, Victor se redressa, une tension imperceptible dans tout le corps. - Je vous écoute, père. Le regard d'Alekseï se posa sur son fils, professionnel et coupant, exempt de toute chaleur. - Un groupe, qui se fait appeler « Les libérateurs », veut mettre fin au code international du secret magique. J'ai de bonnes raisons de penser qu'ils vont agir lors de votre séjour au Japon. - Pourquoi lors d'un tournoi entre écoles ? demanda Victor, surpris. - Les ministres de la magie du monde entier assisteront à la finale, avant de se réunir pour discuter du statut de cette loi. Alekseï marqua un instant de pause, puis fixa son fils droit dans les yeux. - Je veux que tu découvres ce qu'ils trament et dans la mesure du possible que tu les identifies. N'intervient pas surtout, je ne sais pas jusqu'où ils sont prêts à aller. Voici tous les éléments dont je dispose à ce jour. Un hoquet de surprise échappa à Yakov. - Tu n'y songes pas Alekseï ! Ce n'est qu'un enfant et... - Comme vous le souhaitez père, coupa Victor. - Mais... protesta encore Yakov. - C'est bon, lui dit gentiment l'adolescent, c'est bien pour ça que tu me formes après tout. Je vous laisse père, je vais étudier ces documents. Il marqua ces derniers mots d'un bref hochement de tête, quitta la pièce, mais s'assura de ne pas fermer derrière lui. Adossé au mur du couloir, il resta proche de l'embrasure pour entendre la conversation, une main sur la tête de Makkachin pour l'inciter au calme. Le jeune homme n'avait pas pour habitude d'écouter aux portes, mais il avait senti passer des mots silencieux entre son père et son mentor. - Alekseï, tu en demandes beaucoup trop à Vitya. Je sais que je me répète, mais là ça va trop loin. Tu le mets en danger ! - Je sais, je préférerais ne pas le mêler à tout ça, mais il porte le poids de l'héritage Nikiforov. Je ne peux pas le garder hors de la politique magique comme son cousin. Cependant depuis la mort de Sachka je m'assure de l'armer pour faire face à n'importe quoi. La lassitude dans la voix de son père était si inattendue, si inhabituelle, que Victor faillit trahir sa présence. Pour la première fois il se demanda ce qui se cachait derrière la froide façade de son père. * Jour présent Oh. Donc Victor savait déjà qu'il se tramait quelque chose, il possédait même plus d'informations que lui, nota Christophe, pris de vertiges. Certaines actions prenaient soudain tout leur sens et, en effet, Eugénie Giacometti aurait été enthousiaste. Comme les Libérateurs, elle voulait sortir les sorciers de l'ombre, quitte à mettre en danger tant leur communauté que les moldus. Quitte à tuer. - Ça nous dépasse, lâcha-t-il, on n'est que des gosses. On a échappé de peu à un premier mort. Victor grimaça, se détourna pour se laisser tomber sur son lit. - Tu vas attendre que le veritaserum n'agisse plus avant de quitter cette cabine, c'est plus prudent. - Ça dure longtemps ce truc ? demanda Yurio. - Aucune idée, répondit Christophe en s'asseyant face à son meilleur ami, je n'en avais encore jamais pris. Le jeune russe leva les yeux au ciel. Bras croisés, il resta adossé au mur. - Génial. Bon, on fait quoi alors ? Tu crois pas que tu devrais prévenir ton père, Victor ? - Si. Chris, il faut qu'on trouve un moyen de communiquer sans risque. - Toutes les personnes proches de toi prennent des risques. Christophe le vit de nouveau changer de couleur, mais il ne pouvait empêcher les mots de s'échapper. Si ses compagnons lui demandaient ses fantasmes les plus inavoués, il n'aurait pas d'autre choix que de les révéler. Pire, si la conversation venait sur ce terrain, le Suisse avouerait que pendant plusieurs mois il avait nourri des sentiments qui dépassaient l'amitié à l'égard de Victor. Il ne tenait pas non plus à ce que ce dernier connaisse l'identité de son crush actuel. - Cette potion tue toute diplomatie, remarqua sèchement Victor, mais je suppose que tu as raison. Yuratchka, tu devrais rentrer. On peut trouver un prétexte et... L'interpellé bondit, chevelure ébouriffée et griffes en avant. - Tu déconnes ou quoi !? Jamais ! Essaye seulement de m'éloigner et c'est moi qui t'achève, crétin ! Ledit crétin leva les mains en signe d'apaisement. - O.K., O.K., calme-toi. - Tu devrais t'éloigner de Yuri Katsuki, lâcha Christophe sans pouvoir arrêter les mots, il a déjà failli y passer. Le silence qui suivit cette déclaration était assez épais pour le couper à l'épée. Le capitaine de Beauxbâtons n'osait plus tenter de parler de peur de blesser encore son ami avec les horreurs qui menaçaient de quitter ses lèvres. Il n'était pas aveugle : Victor était amoureux du Japonais. Le moment était vraiment mal choisi. * La journée avait été un raté sur toute la ligne. Humilié, fatigué, frustré, Yuri avait écarté la sollicitude de ses coéquipiers pour se réfugier dans un mutisme buté. Lorsqu'il avait pu bouger, il s'était précipité dans son refuge de bambou et statuettes. La nuit n'était pas encore tombée, la lumière de fin de journée nimbait le sanctuaire de teintes chaudes. Avec un soupir, Yuri invoqua Hebi-chan. Le petit serpent s'enroula sur ses épaules, son aura d'un gris triste à l'image de l'humeur de son maître. - J'ai vraiment tout foiré, murmura ce dernier. - Tu n'y es pour rien. Yuri fixa son shikigami dans les yeux, les sourcils froncés. Quelque chose restait en bordure de sa conscience : les derniers mots de Hebi-chan avant qu'il perde connaissance. Il lui semblait qu'ils avaient une importance pour expliquer son accident. Il pouvait demander à son familier, même si les yokai répondaient rarement aux questions directes. Sauf si leur maître leur ordonnait, mais Yuri n'aimait pas abuser de leur contrat. - Merci de m'avoir soigné tout à l'heure, dit-il avec une caresse. Qu'est-ce que j'avais ? Comme l'adolescent s'y attendait, la créature resta silencieuse. Il n'insista pas et retira son haori pour danser. - Du poison. Yuri se figea, un bras encore dans une de ses manches. Il se retourna lentement pour dévisager Hebi-chan, choqué. Les mots prononcés plus tôt dans la journée lui revenaient à présent. « J'ai dû puiser dans ton énergie pour purger ton corps du poison. » Pris de vertige, il s'appuya à une statue de dragon et porta une main à son visage. - Ce n'était pas un accident donc... Qui ? Et pourquoi ? Le serpent secoua la tête en signe d'ignorance avant de se draper autour des épaules de Yuri. - Je ne sais pas, mais tu devrais me garder près de toi en permanence. - C'est interdit en cours. - Aucun problème. Hebi-chan s'envola, puis se plaça face à son maître. Avant de disparaître. - Mais ?! Hebi-chan ? - Je suis là. La voix était claire et reconnaissable, mais le yokai était à présent invisible. Ses écailles effleurèrent la joue de Yuri, les cheveux du jeune homme remuèrent sous le souffle du serpent qui volait autour de lui. Puis, après quelques instants de ce jeu-là, le reptile réapparut. - Depuis quand tu sais faire ça ? s'exclama l'adolescent. - J'ai toujours su le faire, je ne l'avais juste pas dit. Toutes ces révélations commençaient à faire trop pour Yuri. Il se frotta les yeux, puis, jeta un regard vers l'orée de la clairière, pour y chercher la silhouette d'Elias. Il ne l'avait pas vu depuis le week-end précédent et avait hâte de le retrouver, surtout aujourd'hui. Il se figea à cette réalisation : d'ordinaire il appréciait sa solitude, surtout lorsqu'il se sentait mal. Mais la présence d'Elias était réconfortante, un peu comme celle de Victor à son réveil un peu plus tôt. À ce souvenir, Yuri se sentit rougir de nouveau. - Ça commence à s'embrouiller dans ma tête. Le gris de Hebi-chan prit des reflets bleus et il lui lança un regard interrogateur. - Rien, laisse tomber. Il acheva de retirer son haori qui traînait depuis plusieurs minutes au bout de son bras, le posa dans un coin avec ses lunettes et se plaça au centre de la bambouseraie. Les yeux fermés, Yuri essaya de repousser toute pensée parasite. La tâche semblait impossible : les regards bleus de Victor et Elias dansaient devant ses paupières fermées, il était incapable de s'empêcher de conjurer leur image.Il était attiré par les deux adolescents et ignorait que faire de ces sentiments contradictoires. Alors il abandonna tout espoir de faire le vide dans son esprit et commença à danser sous la lune qui avait pris place dans le ciel à présent sombre. *** Si Victor Nikiforov risquait de mettre Yuri Katsuki en danger en passant du temps avec lui, ce n'était pas le cas d'Elias. C'était ainsi que raisonnait le capitaine de Durmstrang tandis qu'il se dirigeait vers le sanctuaire sous les traits de son alter ego. Alors qu'il était presque arrivé il perçut de la musique et s'approcha sans un bruit. Comme il s'y attendait, Yuri dansait, sans doute pour exorciser la journée difficile qu'il venait de vivre. Au souvenir de la chute qui avait failli lui coûter la vie, Victor frissonna de terreur rétrospective. Fasciné, il ne pouvait détacher son regard du Japonais. Des rubans de lumière colorée s'échappaient du bout de ses doigts pour habiller le sanctuaire de guirlandes. Jamais Victor ne pourrait se lasser de ce spectacle incroyable. - Je me doutais que tu serais là, dit-il en s'avançant entre les bambous. La voix fit sursauter Yuri, mais il n'interrompit pas son arabesque pour répondre au nouvel arrivant. - Bonsoir Elias. Celui-ci se contenta d'un « hm-hm » et alla s'asseoir sur les marches, là où il s'installait toujours pour admirer les danses de Yuri. Pendant quelques minutes encore, le Japonais continua, sous les yeux bleus qui le scrutaient. Il semblait mal à l'aise et Victor se demanda s'il ne retardait pas le moment de discuter avec lui. La journée avait dû laisser son lot d'anxiété dans son sillage et il avait déjà remarqué que Yuri n'était pas très doué avec les mots. Cela ne dérangeait pas le Russe qui adorait chacun de ses gestes et de ses regards. « Je suis mal, » songea Victor. Il avait réalisé depuis un moment qu'il s'était entiché du danseur et s'était décidé à lui révéler son secret ce soir. Seulement la situation était plus dangereuse et complexe que prévue : il devait protéger Yuri à tout prix. Ce dernier s'arrêta enfin, hors d'haleine. Il s'approcha et Elias lui tendit sa bouteille d'eau. Le geste lui rappela le réveil de Yuri à l'infirmerie et il essaya d'étouffer la bouffée d'angoisse qui l'avait étreint lors de l'accident. Pour une raison qui lui échappait les joues du Japonais étaient rouges et son regard fuyant. - Ce n'était pas ta faute. La remarque d'Elias tomba comme un cheveux sur la soupe ; Yuri avala de travers. Il toussa quelques instants avant d'enfin se tourner vers lui. - Peu importe - il écarta la remarque d'un mouvement de main -, le résultat c'est qu'on a perdu ce match. Sur ces mots, Yuri soupira, remit lunettes et haori, puis se posa à côté de son ami. Ses épaules voûtées étaient à l'image de son sentiment de défaite et Hebi-chan vint se poser sur son épaule pour le réconforter. - Je me suis humilié devant tout le monde, mon équipe a perdu à cause de moi, j'ai même causé du souci à Victor. Lorsqu'il prononça ce nom, Elias se crispa. C'était subtil, difficile à percevoir, mais cela ne sembla pas échapper à Yuri. Il prit une nouvelle gorgée pendant que Victor se débattait avec divers démons intérieurs, incapable de décider quelle attitude adopter. - Dis-moi... commença-t-il avec prudence. - Hmm ? - Tu es amoureux de Victor ? Ledit Victor n'avait pas eu l'intention d'être aussi direct, mais les mots avaient quitté sa bouche avant qu'il ne réalise tout à fait ce qu'il venait de dire. Mortifié, il cherchait une façon de se tirer de cette situation pendant que Yuri s'étouffait de nouveau. Le visage en feu, il agita les mains devant lui en signe de dénégation. - Qu... que... quoi ? Non ! Je... je l'admire. Oui. Voilà. Je veux juste être à son niveau de quidditch. Victor ignorait s'il était soulagé ou déçu de cette réponse. Était-elle seulement sincère ? Et qui voulait-il que Yuri affectionne entre sa véritable identité et son alter ego ? La situation commençait à friser le ridicule. - Tu es déjà à son niveau Yuri. Mais pourquoi tu rougis ? L'accusé se détourna et sa voix se réduisit à un marmonnement. - Parce que c'est gênant, c'est tout. Et puis, il ne s'intéressera jamais à moi de cette manière. - Ah bon ? - C'est LE Victor Nikiforov. Moi, je suis juste Yuri. Surpris, Elias pencha la tête et dévisagea le Japonais avec intensité. Il savait que ce dernier ne disait pas ça par fausse modestie et que son anxiété l'empêchait de voir toutes ses qualités merveilleuses. Quel gâchis, pensa Victor qui aurait voulu enlever le poids sur les épaules de cet incroyable jeune homme. - Tu veux dire Yuri Katsuki, rétorqua-t-il, le talentueux attrapeur d'une des meilleures équipes scolaires de quidditch, meilleur magizoologiste de Mahoutokoro, artiste magnifique ? Oui, je me demande bien ce qu'il pourrait te trouver. À mesure de l'énumération de compliments, Yuri semblait entrer en combustion. Il rentra la tête dans ses épaules, tourna le visage dans la manche de son haori, moins rouge que sa propre peau. - Tu exagères, marmonna-t-il. - Sans oublier que tu es beau garçon, que tu as un cœur d'or... poursuivit Victor en se penchant pour retirer son bras. - Arrête. - Que tu traites tout le monde en égal et... - Stop ! Comme Yuri tentait de se dégager d'un geste brusque, Elias se retrouva déséquilibré et tomba en avant. Dérangé par leur chahut, Hebi-chan sauta de l'épaule de son maître en couinant une protestation avant de s'enfuir dans les buissons proches. - Ouch, commenta Victor en se redressant. Je veux dire... Allongé dans l'herbe sous lui, Yuri le fixait, les yeux écarquillés. La lune éclairait son visage et le Russe resta figé, fasciné. D'un geste spontané, Yuri leva la main pour remettre une mèche derrière l'oreille d'Elias. Ses doigts s'attardèrent sur la cicatrice, s'immobilisèrent sur la joue. Des frissons parcoururent le corps de Victor, ou était-ce son ami qui tremblait ? Elias retint son souffle. Son regard se posa sur les lèvres de Yuri, il sentit les siennes picoter. Le monde semblait s'être arrêté autour d'eux et l'adolescent n'entendait plus que les battements désordonnés de son cœur. - Yuri, murmura Elias d'une voix étranglée qui modifia son accent et menaçait de trahir sa véritable identité. Lentement, il se pencha sur le Japonais. À un souffle de sa bouche, il fit une pause, indécis. Yuri referma l'espace entre eux. Ses lèvres étaient douces contre celles de Victor, qui hésitait à l'embrasser tout à fait. La culpabilité se mêlait au désir, à la crainte et à la joie, à la peur de perdre Yuri et au bonheur de sentir ses sentiments partagés. Victor était déchiré, incapable de se reculer ou de sauter dans le vide. Yuri ne lui laissa plus le choix. Ses bras entourèrent son cou, le rapprochèrent de lui, tandis que sa bouche devenait plus exigeante. Le timide jeune homme avait disparu, surprenant une fois de plus Victor comme il prenait le contrôle de ce baiser qui n'avait plus rien de chaste. Pris de court, Victor sentit un instant sa magie de métamorphomage vaciller. Une mèche de cheveux bruns qui retombait sur le visage de son compagnon perdit un instant sa teinte pour redevenir argent. Les yeux mi-clos, entièrement perdu contre la bouche d'Elias, Yuri ne sembla pas remarquer ce moment de faiblesse. Victor reprit contenance sur son pouvoir malgré la langue de son partenaire qui rendait toute concentration difficile. Un gémissement échappa à ce dernier. Les mains de Yuri se perdirent dans les cheveux d'Elias qui se détachèrent et retombèrent en rideau autour de leur visage, les isolant un peu plus du monde. Le cœur de Victor tambourinait dans sa poitrine, sur le point d'exploser. Les deux adolescents ignoraient combien de temps s'était écoulé lorsqu'ils se séparèrent - à peine - le souffle court. Victor avait envie de pleurer, mais il ignorait si la joie ou la souffrance provoquait ce phénomène. Il dévisagea Yuri, s'imprégna du spectacle magnifique de ses yeux brillants, de ses cheveux en désordre et ses joues roses de plaisir - et sans doute d'un peu de timidité. Un instant le Russe voulu tout lui révéler, il voulait être honnête avec celui qu'il aimait. Mais les mots de Christophe lui revinrent telle une claque. « Tu devrais t'éloigner de Yuri Katsuki, il a déjà failli y passer. »
11346654	Podfic Going Dark	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Maria (Slings & Arrows), Anna Conroy, Darren Nichols, Richard Smith-Jones", "Fandom": "Slings & Arrows", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Luzula_podfic", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "36", "Additional Tags": "Podfic, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes, Humor, Female Friendship, Theatre, Women Being Awesome, Post-Canon, Canadian Politics", "Relationship": "Darren Nichols/Richard Smith-Jones", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	I was uploading all my old podfics to AO3, and got inspired to record something new! It was fun to do some comedy--this fic is hilarious. Download or stream here. Length: 16 m 42 s.
11325504	same old constellation	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Ronan Lynch, Adam Parrish, Tad Carruthers, Richard Gansey III, Noah Czerny, Henry Cheng", "Fandom": "Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by intertwiningsouls", "chapters": "8/8", "completed": "2017-07-14", "published": "2017-06-28T00:00:00", "words": "15,672", "Additional Tags": "Fake/Pretend Relationship, Texting, Mutual Pining", "Relationship": "Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish", "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 }	It was a peaceful night at Monmouth.Ronan’s room was quiet and dark, filled with an uncharacteristic stillness. The only light came from the streetlights outside and a single string of twinkle lights draped lazily across a bookshelf that held more mess than books.Ronan lay sprawled out on his unkempt bed, headphones resting around his neck, music just loud enough to still reach his ears. It wasn’t late enough yet for him to be irritated that he wasn’t sleeping, no, right now he was simply enjoying the peace and quiet. If his thoughts kept drifting to a certain boy’s smile, that had nothing to do with why he felt so relaxed tonight.But it had felt good to make Adam laugh earlier. He was getting easier to break, lately, Ronan noticed. It had started with a near-invisible tug of a smile a few months ago, after another one of Ronan’s pitiful attempts at entertaining Adam, and it had been all downhill from there. At the first hint that Adam might actually find him occasionally funny, Ronan may have spent more time making an ass of himself than he usually did. It was still hit or miss, and Ronan never knew whether he was going to get sarcastic Adam, or Adam laughing until he cried, but if he was completely honest, he liked any version of Adam he could get.At the end of his bed, half buried under a pair of boxers, Ronan’s phone vibrated, breaking the stillness. He glanced toward it reflexively even though he had no intention of answering anyone tonight.That is, until he saw the edge of a name on the half covered screen. -rrish Ronan’s heart skittered in his chest, feeling like somehow Adam knew . His phone vibrated again. He reached out and hit the unlock button, holding the screen over his face, squinting against the glow. parrish (9:43 pm): Hey. parrish (9:43 pm): Call me when you get this. parrish (9:43 pm): I kind of fucked up. parrish (9:44 pm): It’s stupid, I just realized I made that sound a lot more serious than it is, sorry. parrish (9:44 pm): But still, I need your help. Curiosity made Ronan’s thumb hover over the screen, very nearly completing the motion of calling the boy he had just been daydreaming about. Concern for Adam and irritation at himself for wanting to call Adam warred in his chest.Adam texted him often enough, but Ronan couldn’t remember him ever asking Ronan to call. Unlike Gansey, Adam understood how much Ronan despised his phone. So he must have a good reason for wanting to talk -- but then, he also said it wasn’t that serious. ronan (9:47 pm): what’s up parrish (9:47 pm): Are you free to talk? ronan (9:49 pm): is this life or death parrish (9:49 pm): No… ronan (9:52 pm): im not calling you __________ Why Adam thought Ronan would actually call him, he didn’t know. Why he thought he should even bother Ronan with his stupid issues in the first place, he really didn’t know. It was just that Ronan was the first person he thought of.Wasn’t that the problem, though?When Tad had come onto him after school a few days ago, he had been more forward than he’d ever been before, and instead of dropping his usual awkward hints, he had actually come right out and asked Adam on a date. Which would have been fine, had Adam been prepared. But Adam had grown accustomed to their uncomfortable routine; Tad beating around the bush, and Adam skillfully evading the topic without ever having to be direct in return.Tad moving in way too close and saying, “I’d really like to take you out for dinner sometime,” had come as a total surprise, and he had said it so hopefully, like he fully believed in a world where Adam didn’t find him excruciating to be around. He had looked at Adam with eyes that looked like they probably still believed in Santa Claus, and Adam couldn’t find it in him to flat out reject him. He said the nicest thing he could think of that would still get him out of this situation. “I’m sorry, but I’m dating someone.”A brief look of disappointment flashed across Tad’s face, then all of a sudden he became oddly excited for someone who had just gotten turned down for a date. “Oh! Do I know them?”And this is where Adam’s mind got him into trouble, because his first thought led him straight to the broody boy who always kicked his ass in Latin and sometimes crashed on the floor next to his bed on nights where studying and insomnia made them feel like the last two people on earth.If he had been thinking straight, he would have invented an uncomplicated long-distance relationship and rid himself of Tad’s unwanted attention for good. Instead, he was wondering what it would be like to date Ronan Lynch. When he realized that Tad was still waiting doe-eyed for an answer, all Adam could manage was, “I’m sure you’ve seen him around.”Tad laughed and gave an enthusiastic clap. “You have to bring him to the end of the year party! I want to meet the guy lucky enough to date Adam Parrish.” Tad grasped at Adam’s shoulder with one hand, and clutched onto his own heart with the other. “Say you’ll come!”Still too shocked, and frankly too uncomfortable, to think straight, Adam nodded dumbly.Tad finally seemed satisfied and gave him a jarring clap on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Adam shaken and confused in his wake.Adam had hoped that maybe Tad would forget about all of this by the time the party rolled around on Friday. He had already promised Gansey and Cheng that he would go, but he feared that showing up empty handed would only make this awkward situation worse if Tad still expected to meet Adam’s mysterious boyfriend. Over the next few days at school Tad Carruthers made it abundantly clear that, yes, he still expected to meet Adam’s mysterious boyfriend. Adam tried to make himself invisible in between classes, but every day Tad somehow always managed to find him and say something stupid about Adam’s date for Friday night.Adam was screwed.Now it was Thursday night, and he still had not found a way out of this whole situation. As a last resort he had texted Ronan, but that had obviously gone over super well. Gansey would be upset with him if Adam backed out of going to the party now, Tad would be crushed if Adam showed up single and simply not interested, Tad, goddamnit, and Ronan, well, Ronan was probably already pissed at him for bothering him over nothing.Adam rubbed his eyes wearily and stood up from his desk, knowing he wasn’t going to accomplish any useful studying with his mind a mess like this. He crossed the room to turn off the main light, then found his way to his bed in the dark. He flipped on his dim bedside lamp and laid out across his bed with a sigh, resigning himself to the fact that this was going to suck. He just wasn't sure exactly how, yet.Just then, a knock sounded at his door. __________ Adam Parrish was standing in front of Ronan wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, leaning on the door of his darkened St. Agnes apartment with his hair a tousled mess, and a confused expression on his face. This was not what Ronan was expecting. After a too-long pause, he found his voice. “Jesus Christ, Parrish, wanna put on some clothes?”“Sorry. Wasn’t expecting company,” Adam replied dryly, turning and leaving the door open behind him. He returned to his poorly lit bed and flopped down unceremoniously, seeming to completely miss the fact that Ronan genuinely wanted him to go put on some clothes. Ronan scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed, following Adam into the small apartment and kicking the door closed behind him.“You said you needed to talk.” Ronan accused as he slid off his boots by the door.“Yeah. Over the phone. Hence the no clothes thing,” Adam gestured to his bare torso. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have air conditioning.” He sprawled out across his bed and draped an arm lazily over his face, the light from his bedside lamp casting shadows over his body.Ronan was frozen by the door, lost in the lines of Adam’s tanned arms, his strong shoulders -- Jesus, fuck, he did not need to know that Adam had perfect abs. Of course. Ronan’s lingering eyes trailed along hip bones softly jutting out over the waistband of low boxers, and suddenly the lack of air conditioning in Adam’s apartment was suffocating. Ronan abruptly moved to Adam’s desk, cluttered with textbooks and papers, and sat, staring at a sheet of Latin homework and willing himself to clear his mind of images that would surely be the death of him. He struggled to remember what he was doing here in the first place. “Are you going to tell me what you fucked up, or did I just waste a trip over here?”Adam sat up and draped his long legs off the edge of his mattress. “You’re gonna be pissed.Ronan snorted, still not daring to look Adam’s way. “I’m always pissed, haven’t you noticed?”Adam cleared his throat. “Tad Carruthers asked me out on Monday.”For a brief, terrifying moment, Ronan forgot about all of the times Adam had complained to him about Tad’s unwelcome advances. He clenched his jaw and braced himself.Adam continued, “I didn’t know how to let him down gently.”Ronan cast a sideways glance at Adam, whose head was in his hands. “You know, Parrish, you could always just say, ‘sorry, not into dudes’ and leave it at that.”Adam let out a muffled groan, “But I am into dudes, just not Tad fucking Carruthers. Besides, it’s too late for that anyway, because now he thinks I have a boyfriend.”“He what now?” Ronan spun around in his chair to face Adam. Adam fell back onto his bed with a defeated sound and pulled his pillow over his face. When he spoke, Ronan had to struggle to make out the words.“I have to bring my boyfriend to the party tomorrow night.”“Your… boyfriend.” Ronan’s head was still spinning.Adam removed the pillow from his face and let it fall on the bed beside him. He heaved a loud sigh. “Yeah, boyfriend. Just to catch you up on things around here, I have no air conditioning, and I have no boyfriend.”Ronan didn’t have the energy to spare a sarcastic response just then; he was still trying to wrap his mind around this conversation. “So you need me to help find you a date for this party?”Adam sat up again and gave Ronan a desperate look. “Who the hell would we find? The party is tomorrow night.”Ronan chewed on his lip for a moment. “Okay, Parrish, I’m lost. What do you want me to do about it?”There was a long moment of silence as Adam kept opening his mouth and closing it without speaking. Finally, the words fell out in a rush, “I want you to be my boyfriend for a day.”Ronan froze. Adam hastily explained how easy it would be to pretend for one evening, and then not see Tad again for the entire summer. It would solve everything.Ronan’s thoughts screamed at him that this was a terrible idea, a massive fucking mistake, yet somehow he found himself following, “No fucking way,” with, “I’ll think about it,” before putting on his boots and leaving.So much for a peaceful fucking night. __________ The next morning, Adam woke to his phone buzzing on the floor next to his mattress. ronan (6:08 am): hey fucker ronan (6:08 am): what time do i pick u up Adam felt the warmth of a smile spread through him.He told himself it was only relief. Maybe this wouldn’t have to suck, after all. __________ Ronan knew he would hear it from Gansey later for skipping the last day of school, but he didn’t see the point -- it wasn’t like one last day was going to salvage his abysmal track record anyway. Besides, he was a little busy dealing with this sick feeling growing in his gut. Aglionby was not happening.He texted Adam, then got into his car and started driving.Naturally, he ended up at the Barns without ever consciously deciding to drive there. He always ended up visiting his childhood home when he felt too on edge; the isolated farm had a calming effect on him. As he slowly pulled up the gravel drive, he felt the peace of the Barns wash over him like a physical presence. Maybe he would even be able to catch a nap inside, after the restless night he’d had. He pulled up to the familiar farmhouse and shut off the BMW. A blinking light in the center console pulled his attention to his phone. parrish (6:30 am): I knew you’d come around. ;) parrish (6:30 am): Seriously, thank you, Ronan. parrish (6:30 am): Pick me up at 6. parrish (6:31 am): FYI, this is more of a Gansey party than a normal party. Ronan grinned at his phone before he could stop himself. At least no one was around to see him. ronan (6:42 am): so ur telling me to dress nice ronan (6:42 am): i get it, parrish ronan (6:43 am): u know u can just come out & say it ronan (6:43 am): i’m just ur trophy boyfriend ronan (6:43 am): it’s fine i’m not offended ronan (6:44 am): tbh it’s pretty typical for ppl to want me for my body parrish (6:44 am): Jackass. parrish (6:44 am): I’m guessing I’m not going to see you at school today? ronan (6:45 am): miss me already babe? parrish (6:48 am): Nah, you’re just a trophy, remember? parrish (6:48 am): Better not disappoint tonight. I have to be seen with you. parrish (6:48 am): Okay, some of us have to get to class. See you tonight. :) And that was how Ronan found himself standing in Declan’s old bedroom, rifling through his abandoned closet. He logically knew that Adam was joking, but that didn’t make what he’d said any less true. Adam was going to be seen with Ronan tonight. In public. Together. At a Gansey-like party. Something told him his usual ripped jeans and black top weren’t going to cut it. If he was going to take Adam Parrish on a date, he was going to do it right, goddamnit. He flipped past dress shirt after dress shirt until he came across a dark charcoal number that looked like it would do the job. He went through Declan’s entire closet until he had assembled a whole outfit.When he was finished and the clothes were laid out in front of him on Declan’s bed, the reality of the situation hit him full force.He was going on a date with Adam Parrish tonight.A fake date, but still. ronan (11:08 am): i just thought of something ronan (11:08 am): how r we supposed to be convincing ronan (11:08 am): do we need a back story ronan (11:08 am): aliases ronan (11:08 am): do we have to touch ronan (11:08 am): am i allowed to call u fuckhead in front of everyone parrish (11:15 am): Jesus, I don’t know, Ronan. parrish (11:15 am): Just act however you normally act on a date? parrish (11:15 am): Unless you normally call your date “fuckhead.” parrish (11:15 am): Please don’t do that. ronan (11:21 am): ok just one small problem ronan (11:21 am): i’ve never been on a date ronan (11:21 am): but if i had, i would 100% call them a fuckhead, so sorry ur stuck with that one parrish (11:21 am): You’ve never been on a date? ronan (11:22 am): yeah parrish (11:23 am): Okay, that’s cool. ronan (11:23): yeah? parrish (11:25 am): Yeah. I still have time to teach you. ;) parrish (11:25 am): Rule #1. Don’t call your date a fuckhead, you fuckhead. ronan (11:27 am): fuck this. u didn’t tell me there were rules parrish (11:28 am): Well, you’re in luck. I can’t think of anything else. parrish (11:30 am): My grand total of three (3) dates all consisted of listening to a girl gossip about boring shit while I sat there wondering why I even bothered to leave my house… ronan (11:35 am): i see ur first problem -- going on a date w a girl ronan (11:36 am): i’ll show you how its done parrish (11:38 am): You just admitted to literally having no clue how it’s done. ronan (11:40 am): fuck you, fuckhead parrish (11:40 am): I liked it better when you were calling me babe. parrish (11:40 am): Okay, class is starting. Talk to you later, asshole. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Adam’s relief from earlier that morning vanished during lunch when he sat down at a table and saw that he’d received a slew of texts from Ronan. ronan (11:08 am): do we have to touch Adam flushed, realizing with a growing feeling of unease that his plan was perhaps not as rock solid as he had initially thought. The prospect of introducing Ronan as his boyfriend in front of classmates he wouldn’t see again for several months was not really an issue for Adam; he didn’t care who knew he would date other guys, and he didn’t care that, at least for a brief time, people would think he was dating Ronan Lynch. Neither of these things were a source of shame for him, so he had carelessly checked off a mental, “this is fine,” box before jumping headfirst into this ridiculous plan.This terrible, horrible, impossible plan.This plan that meant he was going to have to spend his entire evening convincing a room full of people that he was head over heels for Ronan Lynch, all while trying to hide the truth of it from Ronan himself. What could possibly go wrong?Gansey’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “Have you seen Ronan?”Adam looked up to see Gansey sliding into the seat across from him, and suddenly he remembered that he would need to clue his friends in on the plan before tonight so Gansey wouldn’t spoil anything in front of Tad. Hey, don’t freak out, but can you pretend Lynch and I are dating tonight? “Um, no, he didn’t come in today.”Gansey sighed, “Why am I surprised?” He shot a curious glance at the phone in Adam’s hand. “Who are you talking to?”A flush crept further up Adam’s face. He wanted to lie, but he knew he would have to explain sooner or later. “Ronan.”Gansey’s jaw dropped, “He’s texting you!? He told me he doesn’t know how!”Adam rolled his eyes, “Gansey, the guy’s a genius. You seriously believed he couldn’t figure out how to send a text?”Gansey deflated slightly and gave a little whine, “He never replies."Adam didn’t know what to say to that. He shrugged.“What on earth is he texting you about?” Gansey craned his head to try and see Adam’s phone. Adam slid the phone off the table and pocketed it. He leveled a cool look at Gansey and decided it was better to just get this over with. “He’s coming to the party with me tonight.” Before Gansey could even ask, Adam quickly continued, “Carruthers won’t leave me alone, so I sort of lied about having a boyfriend.” He held up a hand to keep Gansey from interrupting. “I was an idiot and agreed to bring my non-existent boyfriend to this stupid party, so now I need Ronan to stand in for the night to get Tad off my back.” He exhaled, relieved to have gotten all of that out. “Please say you’ll play along.”Gansey sat in astonished silence.While he waited for Gansey to come back down to earth, Adam slid his phone out and quickly replied to Ronan’s messages.Across the table, Gansey finally spoke. “Ronan actually agreed to this? How did you manage to talk him into it? I asked him to go to this party, like, eight times! How are you getting him to text you? There’s so much I need to know!”Adam gave another shrug, “I just asked. So will you play along?”Gansey shook his head in disbelief, but agreed, “Of course. Just tell me if there’s anything I need to know.”Relieved to have his friend’s support, Adam nodded and went back to eating in silence. __________ A few moments later, Adam’s phone buzzed three times in quick succession. Gansey looked up from his salad and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He watched Adam’s eyes grow wide as he read the texts, presumably from Ronan, and then Adam snorted quietly and a soft smile spread across his face. He seemed to completely forget Gansey’s presence as he quickly typed out a reply and waited, staring at his phone. There was a quick exchange of texts and Adam’s smile shifted into a mischievous smirk. Gansey watched the silent exchange in wonder, curiosity eating at him every time Adam huffed out a small laugh.Gansey made up his mind to text Ronan incessantly until he figured out what the hell was going on.Adam was still smirking when he gathered his messenger bag and headed off to his next class. __________ dick (11:45 am): Why is Adam smiling? dick (11:45 am): What are you two talking about? dick (11:45 am): He spent half of lunch smirking at his phone. dick (11:47 am): I know you can see this, Ronan. dick (11:50 am): RONAN. ronan (11:50 am): u told gansey i was texting you??? parrish (11:51 am): You told him you “don’t know how to text”? Really, Lynch? ronan (11:51 am): hey it worked didn’t it? until u came along & ruined everything parrish (11:51 am): Sorry. He was right there. ronan (11:52 am): oh i know. he said u couldn’t stop smiling at me parrish (11:52 am): Shh. I’m in class. Bye. ronan (11:52 am): sure, sure. wouldnt wanna get caught smiling at ur phone like a nerd ronan (11:54 am): what do u want gansey dick (11:55 am): He DOES text! dick (11:55 am): Are you going to tell me what Adam was so happy about? ronan (11:56 am): fuck if i know. my natural charm?? dick (11:57 am): Ha ha. dick (11:58 am): So you’re coming tonight after all? ronan (11:58 am): yes? i’m assuming parrish told u everything dick (12:00 pm): He did. Are you sure this is a good idea? ronan (12:03 pm): its most certainly a bad idea ronan (12:03 pm): never stopped me before dick (12:03 pm): So why do it then, if you know it’ll make things harder? ronan (12:03 pm): in case u havent noticed… it is kind of hard to say no to adam parrish dick (12:05 pm): I actually have noticed that. dick (12:05 pm): Good luck, Ronan. dick (12:05 pm): If you need anything, I guess you know how to reach me. __________ Imagining Adam smiling at his phone in the school cafeteria did nothing to quell Ronan’s nerves. He had taken a walk out to the barns to say hello to the animals, hoping it would give him something else to focus on, but even the sun’s position in the sky nagged at his brain, constantly reminding him what time it was. A mental clock ticked away the minutes; the stretch of empty hours between now and when he would pick Adam up taunted him. Normally, the peace and quiet of the Barns was just what he needed, but as the morning turned into afternoon, the need to do something ached inside of Ronan.He packed Declan’s dress clothes into the BMW and turned his music up as loud as it would go for the drive back to Monmouth. When he pulled into the parking lot at Monmouth Manufacturing, the first thing he saw was Noah Czerny perched on the hood of his red mustang, wearing a bright yellow Casper the Ghost tee, with his white blonde hair tucked neatly under a lavender snapback. Noah Czerny accounted for 95% of the color in Monmouth Manufacturing, the other 5% belonging to Gansey’s selection of horrific polo shirts. Noah’s loud presence was grounding before Ronan even shut off his engine.Noah lifted a hand in a lazy peace sign as a greeting. When Ronan turned off his music and stepped out of his car, Noah slid off the mustang and followed him inside. “Heard you’ve got a date tonight.”“Fake date. Who told you?”“Does it matter? You’re not wearing that are you?” Noah eyed him up and down.“I’m not an idiot,” Ronan scoffed, then added with a wicked grin, “I stole some of Declan’s clothes.”“Perfect! Declan’s a babe.” Noah grinned. “What time are you leaving?”“Adam said to come get him at six.”Noah glanced at the clock on the wall. “Okay, we’ve got some time. Pull up a chair.”Ronan stared blankly at him until Noah huffed out an exasperated sigh, “Unless you’re trying to grow it out, I guess?” He looked at Ronan’s hair like it held the answer. When Ronan shrugged indifferently, Noah smiled and disappeared into the kitchen-bathroom. “I’ll get the razor!” Ronan sat perfectly still under Noah’s hands. It had been a while since they had done this. It used to be a frequent occurrence, Noah shaving Ronan’s head for him whenever he needed it, but Ronan had since gotten quite good at doing it himself. So maybe it was a little overgrown. He had just been busy, lately. Distracted.For a brief moment, he wondered what it would be like if Adam was the one who volunteered to do this. He pictured long slender fingers skillfully running over his head. He closed his eyes and sighed into the feeling of the razor buzzing his head clean. Noah hummed softly behind him, working quickly. Then all of a sudden his free hand began to tap out a rhythm on Ronan’s head and he burst out singing, "In the car - I just can't wait - to pick you up on our very first date. Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?” Ronan groaned loudly in protest, but, as usual, Noah was completely endearing even while being an obnoxious little shit. Ronan couldn't help but grin, knowing Noah couldn’t see his face. “Do you like my stupid hair? Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear? I'm just scared of what you think, you make me nervous so I really can't eat.” “Enough, Noah, Jesus!” Ronan protested weakly.Noah skipped an entire section of the song, and his voice doubled in volume. “I dread the thought of our very first kiss; a target that I'm probably gonna miss.” Ronan was out of his chair in a second. He spun to face Noah, ready to throw him out a window.Noah brandished the electric razor like a weapon. “Not so fast, Cowboy. You’ve got a nice ring of baby fuzz left around your head, so unless you wanna take sweet Adam Parrish on a date while looking like a disgruntled monk, you’d better sit your ass back down and let me finish.”Ronan glared at Noah but knew he had been beat. He slumped back into the chair and muttered, “Please just be quiet.”Noah’s voice was sweetly teasing. “Aw, is Ronan Lynch getting nervous?” “Fuck off.” Ronan didn’t have it in him to put any heat behind the words.Noah was quieter, now. “Hey, you know he likes you, right?”Ronan snorted. “Did you miss the part where this is fake?”“No,” Noah insisted, “I know. I’m just telling you that he likes you, and that he probably wouldn’t mind if you asked him on a real date.”Ronan bit back the hopefulness threatening to show in his voice. “How would you even know that?” Noah hummed casually, “Does it matter?” He shut the razor off and dusted his hands along Ronan’s shoulders. “Now go shower. Time is ticking.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- School let out early on the last day, so Adam had picked up a shift at Boyd’s for that afternoon. He told himself he needed the money he would earn from even just a few hours of work, but a part of him knew that he wouldn’t have been able to handle sitting at home idly waiting for Ronan to pick him up later that night. He was half-focused on replacing an alternator and while it gave his hands something to do, it wasn’t quite challenging enough to keep his mind occupied. He cast another glance at the clock that hung on the garage wall. Five o’clock. Still thirty minutes left until he would need to go home and get cleaned up. The garage radio was playing loudly enough that Adam felt more than heard his phone go off in the back pocket of his coveralls. Wiping a hand on an oil stained rag, he pulled his phone out to see if it was anything important. He silently cursed himself for how eagerly he hoped it was another message from Ronan. ronan (5:00 pm): hey parrish wanna hang out tonight and throw shit off the roof adam (5:00 pm): Can’t. I have a date to this swanky party in town. ronan (5:01 pm): ugh adam (5:01 pm): You okay? ronan (5:02 pm): just not thrilled at the idea of mingling with shitty versions of gansey all night ronan (5:02 pm): not really my scene adam (5:02 pm): I’d say you still have time to change your mind, but please don’t - I really don’t want to go without you. Not exactly my scene either. adam (5:02 pm): Hey, I have to finish up at work. adam (5:03 pm): Try not to worry about tonight. It’ll be fine. He might as well have been talking to himself with that last message. Ever since Ronan had asked him how they were supposed to be convincing, Adam couldn’t stop imagining scenarios of Tad approaching them and Adam saying, “This is my boyfriend, Ronan,” out loud. The fact that Ronan would be standing right there listening to him say those words made Adam’s chest feel tight. Adam took a deep breath and turned back to his work, focusing hard on the most mundane details. He could worry later. __________ Half an hour later, Adam was standing in front of his meager closet, still wearing dirty coveralls tied around his waist, cursing himself for not thinking about this earlier. He had been so determined to not worry about tonight that he actually hadn’t worried enough, for once. He hadn't been joking when he had told Ronan that this would be Gansey’s kind of party. The rowing club was technically throwing it, but Adam doubted they would have much control over it as it would be held on school grounds. School faculty would be there, parents probably - just another event meant to show off how impressive Raven boys were, another party to attract sizeable donations from people who had more money than they knew what to do with. He knew he didn't own anything nice enough for this; he was going to stick out like a sore thumb. Panic pricked at the edge of his mind. It was too close to time to go, he was just going to have to settle for his school uniform. Shame welled up inside of him, telling him that none of this mattered, that it was all pretend anyway. His nicest outfit was a uniform he’d gotten due to a scholarship, and tonight he would be wearing his scholarship clothes to a party he was only invited to because of his proximity to Richard Gansey III, and not only that, but he would be arriving at said party with the heavy knowledge that this lie for Tad Carruthers would be the closest he would ever come to dating the boy he silently ached for. Around the pounding of his heart, Adam considered calling the whole thing off. His phone vibrated in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. He quickly blinked away the wetness forming behind his eyes, feeling like he had been caught at something. ronan (5:36 pm): hey ronan (5:36 pm): can i come up A different kind of panic surged inside Adam. He went to the window to look down on the parking lot, and sure enough, there was Ronan Lynch; leaning against his BMW looking like he came straight out of a magazine. He was typing into his phone with one hand and clutching onto a bag with the other. The contrast between him and Adam was painful even from this distance; without even trying, without knowing he was being watched, Ronan looked like a god standing there in the afternoon sun. His unguarded expression was soft, somehow simultaneously peaceful and nervous. Adam wished he would be allowed to see that look on Ronan’s face up close. He imagined for a brief moment that he was allowed to go downstairs and greet Ronan at his car, that he could press his hands to Ronan’s chest, that he could press his lips to Ronan’s jaw, that he could-- The reality of Ronan Lynch standing in the parking lot outside his apartment, waiting to come up, scattered Adam’s daydreams away for a later time. Below, Ronan pocketed his phone and looked up at Adam’s apartment. Adam reached for his phone before it even vibrated. ronan (5:37 pm): i know im fucking early but i couldnt sit still and gansey wouldnt shut up Adam took a deep breath and typed out a hasty reply with shaking fingers. __________ Jesus Christ, Adam really needed to stop answering the door in various stages of undress. As if Ronan’s heart wasn’t beating hard enough already, now he had to face Adam in a too small white t-shirt with oil stained coveralls tied low around his waist. Ronan gripped the doorjamb and tried desperately not to eye Adam up and down. Goddamn. Adam had no idea what he was doing, did he? Ronan couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. “Thought you said this was a Gansey party, Parrish.” Adam moved aside to give Ronan room to enter. He looked thoroughly unamused, possibly even a little ill. “I have to shower. Are you coming in, or do you just want to stand there telling me how good I look all night?” Ronan felt a flush creeping up his neck. He stepped into the room and pushed a bag into Adam’s chest as he passed. Adam clutched at it and wryly said, “I didn’t know we were doing gifts.” “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s from Noah.” __________ Adam’s apartment suddenly felt cramped when he opened the door to let Ronan in. It was worse, so much worse up close. The pull of Ronan’s open expression from only a moment ago was made even stronger by the sharp lines of his face. Even without the usual fire in his eyes, Ronan Lynch was fiercely handsome. He was wearing an expensive outfit that was sharp and dark in a distinctively Ronan way, not to mention it looked like it was perfectly tailored to every inch of his body. The sheer perfection of it only served to remind Adam just how inadequate he was for any of this. And then Ronan was crashing into his room like he owned the place, and there was a bag shoved into Adam’s chest. He peered inside suspiciously, then reached into the bag and pulled out a neatly folded dress shirt in the brightest white he had ever seen. Glancing further into the bag, he saw a pair of black slacks and an expensive looking pair of dress shoes. Noah had sent him a complete outfit. He could not help the overwhelming wave of gratitude that washed over him. When he spoke, his voice caught on the lump in his throat. “I can’t accept this. I can’t wear Noah’s clothes.” Ronan was sitting on Adam’s bed, leaning up against the wall - his relaxed posture a direct contradiction to the crisp near-black shirt that fit tight across his chest. He shot Adam a shit-eating grin, “Why the fuck not? I’m wearing Declan’s.” __________ God, making Adam Parrish laugh was never going to get old. Watching his face change from I’m worthless because I don’t own nice clothes to God, Ronan, you stupid asshole was already making this whole night worth it. Ronan thought to back to earlier that evening when Adam had said this party wasn’t his scene either, and wondered if he would try to spend the whole evening comparing himself to all of the rich pricks there. Maybe Adam really was glad Ronan was going with him, if for no other reason than to have someone to crack stupid jokes with. Ronan determined then and there that he was going to make this night fun for Adam, no matter what it took. Ronan waited from his spot on the bed while Adam took Noah’s bag of clothes into the bathroom and started the shower. At the sound of water running, Ronan cursed himself for showing up early and having to live through the knowledge that Adam Parrish was currently stripping off a sweaty mechanics uniform in the next room. Ronan pulled out his phone, desperate for a distraction. He had one new notification. czerny (5:40 pm): when you smile, i melt inside ronan (5:48 pm): jesus christ... czerny (5:48 pm): i'm not worthy for a minute of your time!!! ronan (5:48 pm): noah i swear to god czerny (5:50 pm): have fun 2nite buddy!!! send me a pic of adam’s outfit ;) czerny (5:50 pm): seriously ro. HE. LIKES. YOU. go get ‘em tiger ronan (5:51 pm): im done talking to you now. czerny (5:51 pm): i want details later!! ronan (5:52 pm): goodbye noah Noah was the worst person to be talking to right now, Ronan decided. He didn’t need the constant encouragement to get his hopes up. He knew he would regret it later, but he opened a new conversation and texted Gansey, needing something, anything, to help bring him back to reality. ronan (5:53 pm): got any tips for faking your own death dick (5:53 pm): Aren’t you with Adam? ronan (5:53 pm): hes in the shower. im dying dick (5:54 pm): I hate to state the obvious here, but if you’re dying you may not need to fake your own death. ronan (5:57 pm): u always give the best advice dick (5:58 pm): Come find me tonight if you need anything. You’ll be fine. You hang out with Adam all the time. Not like this, Ronan thought as Adam stepped out of the bathroom. He was dressed head to toe in crisp, unforgiving clothes that hugged every lean, muscular line of his body. White sleeves rolled up over tanned forearms, black tie draped around his neck, untied. Towel-dried hair still a mess, face still flushed from the shower. Fuck. Ronan knew he was staring. He knew Adam knew he was staring. Why couldn’t he stop staring? __________ When Adam stepped out into his bedroom, Ronan had looked up from his phone and frozen in place. Adam had caught him looking before, but had always written it off as nothing. This, though. This was not nothing. He didn’t know what it meant, but all at once he was viscerally aware of the heat in Ronan’s gaze. A gnawing feeling in his stomach said this isn’t new. He promptly shoved the thought away. In the next moment the cheap flash of a cell phone camera went off in his face. “What the fuck, Ronan?” He said, blinking in disbelief. Ronan looked up at him from the bed and gave him an innocent shrug. “What? Noah wanted to see.” __________ ronan (6:00 pm): [1 attachment] ronan (6:00 pm): do u see what you’ve done ronan (6:00 pm): how am i supposed to survive this czerny (6:01 pm): OH MY GOD!!! ronan. buddy. im so sorry czerny (6:01 pm): i ddi not thinkt his through czerny (6:01 pm): if u die tonight it is NOT MY FAULT czerny (6:01 pm): i repeat. not my fault!!! sweet lord Ronan was laughing at his phone in a quietly exasperated way when suddenly he felt Adam lean in to look. He jumped back, shoving his phone behind his back. “What the fuck, Parrish, can’t a guy have some privacy?” Adam was so close Ronan could see the individual freckles on his cheekbones. Adam rolled his eyes, unaffected, and asked, “What did he say?” Ronan swallowed. His gaze traced over the elegant lines of Adam’s face, drawn into his open blue eyes. He could feel himself slipping into staring again. His voice was too quiet when he finally found words. “He said you look good.” A crooked smile crossed Adam’s face. He raised one eyebrow. “Really?” Ronan smirked, “I believe his exact words were ‘Sweet Lord,’ but I’m pretty sure that means good.” Adam laughed, “Let me see!” and reached around for Ronan’s phone. “No fucking way!” Ronan scooted along the bed, as far away as he could get, leaning back on his elbows and trying to shove Adam away with his legs. There was no way he was going to let Adam read his most recent texts, but Ronan couldn’t find it in himself to completely break away from this either. Adam was laughing again, full and careless this time, and he never wanted it to end. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Ronan stood facing Adam, their bodies mere inches apart, his hands trembling at Adam’s throat.He was trying to tie Adam’s fucking tie, and it wasn’t fucking working.Why he had even agreed to help Adam with his tie in the first place was lost on him now. This was a combination of all of his favorite dreams, but it felt more like a nightmare. He could feel Adam’s warm eyes on him, he couldn’t breathe without inhaling the woodsy scent of Adam’s soap and the lingering hint of gasoline, and worst of all, he couldn't help the accidental touches his clumsy hands left on Adam’s chest while trying to get this damn knot to look right, and he just --Adam’s hand came up to steady his wrist. “It’s fine,” he said reassuringly, “I’d rather not wear the tie, actually. It’s going to be stuffy enough without this thing strangling me all night.”Ronan willed his hand to stay steady through Adam’s touch. He avoided Adam’s gaze and mumbled, “I’ve never tried it on another person before. It works fine when I do it myself.”Adam released his wrist to untie the failed knot and laughed a little, “It’s okay, I obviously don’t know how to tie one either.”Ronan looked up, his scowl deepening. “You don’t believe me?”In response, Adam lifted the tie from around his neck and draped it around Ronan’s, the backs of his hands lightly grazing Ronan’s chest as they slid down the length of the tie on either side.Ronan was sure the entire apartment was shaking with the force of his heartbeat.Adam quirked an eyebrow. “Well? By all means, prove me wrong.”Ronan tried desperately to remember how to breathe, much less how to tie a tie.Miraculously, his hands went through the motions on their own, and within a few short moments he was standing before Adam with his tie tied correctly. Adam was visibly impressed, although he tried to hide it by reaching out to fix Ronan’s work. “I guess I always thought Gansey did it for you.”“Good to know you have such a high opinion of me,” Ronan scoffed, reaching up to loosen the tie, satisfied that he had proved his point. Adam’s hand nudged his out of the way. “Leave it,” he said softly, a request more than a command. “It looks good.”Ronan’s mind went blank. Around the blood rushing in his ears all he could hear was Noah’s voice. You know he likes you, right? __________ “Oh, good, we’re not even ten minutes late yet and Tad is already wondering where I am,” Adam grumbled, frowning at his phone as he and Ronan made their way across the parking lot to Ronan's car.“Let me see that.” Ronan reached for the phone and Adam released it without hesitation. tad carruthers (6:07 pm): Hey Adam! :) Are you still coming tonight? :) Can't wait to see you! :) Under his breath, Ronan hissed in disbelief. “This fucking guy.” He immediately began to type out a response. adam (6:08 pm): sorry bro my date got here and distracted me adam (6:08 pm): u know how it is ;) adam (6:08 pm): hes just so goddamn sexy adam (6:09 pm): we’ll get there when we get there adam (6:09 pm): maybe Ronan handed the phone back to Adam with a satisfied smirk. Adam immediately read the texts and his jaw dropped in disbelief. He punched Ronan’s arm and muttered, “You asshole,” but the amused grin settling onto his face betrayed him. ___________ Inside the car, Ronan asked, “He's really bothering you, isn't he?” -- like he was just now understanding why Adam had been so desperate for a date.Adam shrugged weakly. “He texts me at least once a day, even though I almost never respond. He just can't seem to take a hint.”Ronan snorted. “Don't you think ‘I have a boyfriend’ is more than a hint?”“I mean, that’s why I said it. Figured it was a universally understood rule that you should leave someone alone. Maybe he just has to see it to believe it,” Adam said hopefully.Ronan was quiet for a long moment and then he cleared his throat, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Speaking of him believing it, how are we going to do this?”There was a pause. Ronan cast a glance at Adam, whose face was turned away to look out the window. When Adam spoke he almost sounded nervous. “Would you hate me if I say I have no idea?”“Probably.”Adam let out a small laugh that almost sounded like a sigh. “I have no idea.”“Thanks, Parrish. Glad you signed me up for this shitshow and neglected to come up with any sort of roadmap. If I punch Tad Carruthers tonight, I’m letting you know right now, that’s on you.”This time Adam sighed for real. “It shouldn't be that complicated. Just act like you like me for a couple hours, if you think you can handle it.”Ronan’s face darkened. “The fuck are you talking about, I always act like I like you.”“Okay, but for right now, we’re talking a little less, ‘we argue to pass time and throw shit for fun’ and a little more ‘oh my god, my heart stops when I look at you, I am the luckiest man in the world, et cetera,’” Adam drawled dramatically. “You are familiar with the idea of romantic attraction, right? That’s what we’re going for tonight.”“God, Adam, no need to be an asshole about it; if you want to hold my hand, just ask.” Ronan grumbled. He realized a moment too late that he had called Adam Adam. His face flushed and he prayed Adam would keep his eyes on the passing scenery.Another pause. When Adam finally spoke, it was barely loud enough to break the silence. “I might actually need to. Is that okay?” The nerves in Adam’s voice hinted at panic as the BMW pulled into the parking lot and Ronan shut off the engine.Ronan took a breath and collected himself, reminding himself that Adam was going out of his comfort zone tonight, too. However terrifying it was to think about Adam Parrish’s beautiful fingers intertwining with his, there was a good chance that Adam was just as nervous as he was about the evening ahead of them. Obviously not for the same reasons, but nervous for this party; the people made of money, the pretentious way everyone carried themselves, Adam’s constant fear that his upbringing was written all over his face. Not to mention the asshole who insisted on invading Adam’s personal space at every possible opportunity. One look at Adam’s white-knuckled hand clutching the door handle, and Ronan knew that he would do anything Adam asked.Ronan reached across the car and nudged Adam’s shoulder with what he hoped was an encouraging shove. “Whatever you need, Fuckhead.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Call me Fuckhead one more time and I’m breaking up with you,” Adam threatened emptily, gaining the courage to pull himself out of Ronan’s charcoal grey BMW. He eyed the thin crowd of people trickling into the building across the parking lot and his heart picked up a different rhythm.Ronan’s car door slammed behind him and Adam could hear footsteps approach until he felt Ronan by his side. A shoulder nudged his and Ronan's voice in his ear said, “Well, Parrish, I hope you live a long and happy life with Tad.” And then Ronan was walking away, striding towards the main building like he had nothing at all to be afraid of.Adam caught up quickly, not wanting to be left behind with his fears in the parking lot. Ronan looked smug at having a slightly out of breath Adam by his side again. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. You need me.” He grinned wickedly and added, “Fuckhead.”Adam wondered briefly at the way attraction and irritation tangled so easily in his chest when it came to Ronan Lynch. The irritation won out this time as he leveled Ronan with a glare. “Ronan, I’m serious. Nobody is going to believe us.”Ronan let out the laugh he always gave Adam when he had succeeded in pushing one too many of his buttons. By now, they had joined the small crowd of well-dressed people lingering and making small talk on the pathway towards the main building. Adam felt a jolt run through him when Ronan leaned his head in close to Adam’s and said in a low voice, “Relax, babe, I’ve got this.”Adam could feel his face turning red. He was used to insults as nicknames; he knew they were Ronan’s particular brand of fondness, and that had always been okay with him. But as if hearing Ronan address him in that low voice wasn't bad enough, he had used a name that did away with all teasing and insults and held only affection. Adam was now painfully aware of how badly he wanted to hear it again and again and again. __________ Pulling different reactions out of Adam had always been one of Ronan’s favorite pastimes, but this development took things to whole new level. Adam had been thoroughly annoyed with him, and then with one sentence Ronan had turned him into a stammering mess of pink blushes and averted eye contact.“Oh my God,” Ronan said, a thrill running through him at his discovery. “You like pet names.” He jabbed an accusatory finger at Adam.Adam promptly swatted him away and insisted, “I do not.”Ronan was thoroughly unconvinced. “You do. You like sickeningly sweet pet names. I bet you have a favorite. Babe? Sweetheart? Angel? Dear?”Adam’s face was turning a darker shade of red and and he wasn't even trying to hide his annoyance. He shoved at Ronan’s shoulder. “I do not have a favorite. I’ve never even thought about it before.”Ronan continued on, like he hadn't even heard Adam speak. “Honey? My love? Beautiful?”Adam sighed noisily beside him. “Honestly, Ronan, any of those are better than the names you usually call me. You haven't exactly set the bar very high.”Ronan snickered, knowing how right Adam was. He stepped closer, keeping his voice down so nearby party guests wouldn't overhear, and said, “What, you don't like the sound of, ‘My heart stops when I look at you, Shitbrain’?” Adam burst out laughing. Ronan's heart soared. __________ The evening was off to a surprisingly good start. Ronan and Adam had slipped into the crowd unnoticed, gravitating towards a punch table in the corner of the room. Their conversation and laughter flowed easily, mostly at the expense of the other party guests. They were wrapped up in a game of watching particularly wealthy-looking people across the room, trying to read lips, making up wild and sometimes inappropriate dialogue as they went. Adam had relaxed quickly, and was laughing easily at their childish game.Ronan watched him, quietly considering how this was an evening he was never supposed to enjoy and was only experiencing due to a bizarre one-time mistake. Here he was, on school grounds, wearing restrictive dress clothes, waiting to interact with an intrusive asshole whose main goal in life was to make Adam Parrish uncomfortable. He knew objectively that he should be miserable tonight, but he couldn’t help the warmth blooming in his chest. Standing in front of him was a beautiful boy who always challenged him when it mattered and let him be when it didn’t; and Ronan held the knowledge that he could make this boy laugh if he tried hard enough, blush if he chose the right words, light a fire in his eyes if he pressed the right buttons.Adam looked at him questioningly, and Ronan realized with a flush that he hadn’t been listening. He tried to mask it by bringing his cup of punch up to his face and taking a drink.Adam tapped him once on the side of the head. “You in there?”Ronan flinched away and complained, “Fuck off, Parrish. I needed a minute to think about how I’m the luckiest man in the world.”Adam let out a hearty laugh and then replied, softer, “You know, you don’t have to look at me like that when Tad's not around.”Ronan’s heart thudded in his chest at the hint that Adam had been able to read his thoughts. He painted on a smirk, and replied, “It’s Tad. He could be watching at any moment.” In a stage whisper, he added, “For all we know, the little fucker has been hiding under the punch table this whole time, staring at your ankles.”Adam tried to restrain himself, but dissolved into laughter despite his best efforts. He dragged a hand down his face and groaned, “Fuck, Ronan, I did not need to imagine Tad Carruthers with an ankle kink.”Ronan’s responding laughter was cut short when he caught a glimpse of a figure approaching from across the room. Adam’s laughter died down when he saw the change on Ronan’s face and he gave Ronan a questioning look.Ronan eyed Adam up and down with a mischievous grin, “Hope Noah’s pants are long enough for you.” He nodded towards the approaching boy. “Incoming.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Ronan imagined if you captured a tornado and put it in the body of a socially awkward teenage boy, you would end up with something like Tad Carruthers. He watched the boy make his way across the room, a small smile tugging at his lips. He could admire the boy’s ignorant sort of bravery, if nothing else.Ronan nudged Adam’s side. “Ready, beautiful?”Adam brought both hands up to cover his blushing face and made a muffled noise that sounded like, “Please stop.”Ronan raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Really, Parrish?” He laughed. “Okay, beautiful is better than babe. Duly noted.”Adam was trying so hard to glare at him, but it was difficult to take him seriously when his face was that embarrassing shade of pink. A warmth inside Ronan urged him to say something, and for once he didn’t immediately shove the thought away. He considered the fact that Tad was close enough now that the act was on; he was supposed to be Adam’s boyfriend -- he was allowed to say boyfriend things. Before Tad could completely invade the moment, Ronan bumped his elbow against Adam’s and casually said, “Beautiful suits you better, anyway.”In the next moment, two things happened at once: Tad Carruthers broke through the atmosphere with an overly excited greeting, and Adam turned toward Ronan and breathed, “I need a minute,” and disappeared.Ronan was left standing in front of a beaming, although slightly confused, Tad Carruthers. Alone. __________ Adam found himself in a darkened hallway, away from the noise of the party. He sank down to sit on the floor and desperately tried to calm his heart. A feeling that had been gnawing at him all day was becoming harder and harder to ignore. He stared down at Noah’s dress shoes for a long moment, feeling disoriented and confused, and then he had an idea. adam (7:15 pm): Has Ronan ever said anything about me? noah (7:16 pm): sry buddy - doctor patient confidentiality adam (7:16 pm): Noah, I’m serious. Please? noah (7:16 pm): why the sudden need to know?? did something happen already??? adam (7:16 pm): He called me beautiful? Before Tad even really showed up. It felt like he actually meant it? noah (7:17 pm): THATS MY BOY!!! noah (7:17 pm): i mean noah (7:17 pm): he sent me a pic noah (7:17 pm): and you DO look beautiful (ur welcome btw) noah (7:17 pm): so ya i dont blame him adam (7:18 pm): Sorry, I meant to thank you for the clothes earlier. I just got distracted. noah (7:18 pm): ~~DiStRaCtEd~~ distracted??? or like traffic was bad distracted adam (7:18 pm): Oh my god. Just regular distracted, Noah. noah (7:18 pm): im not buying it. u forget i saw ronan before he left noah (7:18 pm): he certainly looked DISTRACTING to me ;) adam (7:19 pm): You are really not being as helpful as I’d hoped. noah (7:19 pm): ya well i had hoped u 2 would be making out by now noah (7:19 pm): so i guess we’re all disappointed tonight, now aren’t we!! __________ Tad was standing there in an uncomfortable silence, and Ronan couldn’t quite tell if it was because Tad was afraid of him or disgusted by him, or both. Whatever it was, he felt no desire to start a conversation and help Tad out of his awkward silence, so he stood there and waited.Finally, Tad opened his mouth. “Where’s Adam?”Ronan shrugged, his expression remaining deeply uninterested. “How the fuck should I know?”Tad looked unsure if he wanted to continue speaking with Ronan, but curiosity edged at his expression and he eventually asked, “Did he bring his date?”A smirk twitched at Ronan’s mouth, but he kept his expression blank. “Yep.”He could tell Tad was beginning to get annoyed, but was still trying to hide it. After a moment he hesitantly asked, “Do you happen to know where he is?”Ronan stared into Tad’s eyes, bored, and replied, “You’re looking at him.”Tad let out an obnoxious laugh. “Good one, Lynch, but you don’t exactly fit the description Adam gave me this morning.”That got Ronan’s attention, “Oh yeah? And what description was that?” he asked with a challenge in his voice.Tad counted off qualities on his fingers, “I believe he said his boyfriend was funny, compassionate, selfless, intelligent,” he eyed Ronan up and down condescendingly, “handsome -- I mean the list goes on, but I’m sure you can see why I don’t believe you.”Ronan was more concerned with whether Adam had actually said those things about him than the fact that Tad didn’t believe him, but he didn’t like the boy’s attitude, so he plastered on a flat smile and said, “Adam finds you overbearing and relentlessly annoying.”Tad was taken aback for a moment, but he recovered quickly and snarked back, “You’re a good for nothing asshole, Lynch. Anybody with eyes can see that Adam would never choose you.”Tad’s words cut right through to Ronan’s tightly wound collection of secret fears. A sinking feeling in his gut fiercely agreed with Tad, but he could never let Tad have the satisfaction of knowing that. He erased all emotion from his voice before he spoke, and replied with a disinterested shrug, “One of us is on a date with Adam Parrish, and one of us isn’t. You tell me who he chose.”Tad glared. __________ Something about his conversation with Noah had sparked a certain curiosity in Adam, and as he walked back into the main room to look for Ronan and Tad, he considered an experiment that might help him get some answers.It certainly couldn’t hurt. He doubted Ronan would mind, seeing as he had already jumped off that cliff with the whole pet names thing. They were supposed to be dating, after all.He spotted Ronan and Tad from a distance and could immediately tell from their body language that things hadn’t gone well while he'd been away. Adam felt a pang of guilt for leaving Ronan alone to deal with Tad. He walked faster.When he was close enough for Ronan and Tad to notice him, they turned to him like they had been waiting. Tad looked irritated and a bit haughty, with his hands on his hips. Ronan looked irritated as well, arms folded across his chest, but he wore the quiet expression of a boy trying to look more angry than wounded.Concern coursed through Adam and made what he was about to do much easier; it was the thing he always wanted to do when Ronan looked like he was tearing himself down on the inside.He walked up to Ronan’s side, slid his hand into Ronan’s, and stretched up to plant a soft kiss on the sharp edge of Ronan’s jawline, just under his ear. It was brief, it was faint, it was nearly nothing, but it set his heart racing. When he pulled back, Ronan was blushing but he didn’t look flustered like Adam had hoped he would. Instead he looked proud; vindicated almost. He gave Tad a smug look and raised his and Adam’s linked hands, as if to show them off, and then, in a resplendent display of maturity, he lifted his middle finger and gestured toward Tad, taking Adam’s hand along for the ride.Adam moved to bring their hands back down and ask Ronan what on earth was going on, but Ronan was already tugging him away from Tad and leading the way through the crowded floor. Adam looked back over his shoulder in time to see Tad, bewildered and sputtering, standing alone by the punch table. __________ Ronan didn’t stop walking until they were outside. He led them to the empty courtyard behind the main hall, and then, as if he hadn’t thought that far ahead, his steps wandered aimlessly until they slowed and came to a stop in front of a low wall separating the long walkway from the grassy courtyard.They sat at the same time, Adam matching Ronan’s movements, not wanting to break whatever spell was keeping their hands firmly laced together.Adam waited in silence, knowing that Ronan would talk when he was ready. He kept his head down, unable to stop staring at the way Ronan’s knee was resting against his, or the way his thumb was rubbing a nervous back and forth motion across Adam’s hand.After a few moments of silence, Ronan’s thumb gradually slowed until it came to a complete stop and rested contentedly over Adam’s thumb.Adam was still staring.Ronan’s voice snapped his attention back to the present moment. “Tad’s a fucking asshole,” Ronan said, sounding smaller and more tired than Adam had expected.Adam gave Ronan’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “He can make things pretty uncomfortable.”Ronan made a sound that almost passed for a tired laugh. “No, Adam, I mean he really sucks.”Adam nudged Ronan’s shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “Did he try to touch your ankles, too?”Ronan snorted, and his thumb picked up its nervous rhythm again. He turned his head to look Adam in the eye, and for a moment Adam got lost in the blue of them, the sadness of them, the fondness of them. His confusion was bubbling up inside him again.Adam couldn’t wait any longer. He had to ask, “What did I miss?”Ronan turned away. “Nothing, really. He didn’t believe me.”Adam was trying to wrap his head around why that would be reason for Ronan to get upset, but nothing was making any sense. He guessed at what to say, hoping it might be the right thing. “Hey, I know we didn’t really prepare a backstory, but I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad.”Ronan bit his lip, then quietly said, “I didn’t even get that far. He just laughed and said there was no way you would ever choose me.”Adam’s heart dropped. He realized his hand had involuntarily gripped Ronan’s tighter. Ronan didn’t pull away.Adam thought for a moment. “Ronan,” he began softly, “are you actually upset that Tad Carruthers thinks I’m too good for you?”Ronan winced a little, then rolled his eyes, “No, fuck, Parrish, we all know that; it’s just that he was being a complete shitbag about it.”Adam grinned sympathetically. “You know he’s basically stalking me, Ronan. I’d bet you anything he has an Adam Parrish shrine in his closet. In his mind, the only person good enough for me is himself.”Ronan cracked a small smile and muttered, “Shit, I’ve never seen an ankle shrine before; that could be fun.”Adam laughed despite himself, then sunk contentedly into Ronan’s side, his hand warm where Ronan still held it, more loosely now but not like he ever intended to let go.That is, until Henry Cheng crossed the grass silently from behind and surprised them. He stopped directly behind their seat on the low wall, looked down at their clasped hands, and exclaimed, “Holy Jesus, he wasn’t lying!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Adam pulled his hand away first, and immediately hated himself for it -- or hated Henry for startling him. He quickly set his hand back down in the space between him and Ronan, only a hair’s breadth away from touching the other boy’s fingers again. He didn’t know what he expected; that Ronan would recognize the invitation and slip his hand into his?He realized with a sinking feeling that he was already completely and utterly addicted to a feeling he would never own.Henry straddled the wall to sit facing Adam, his impossibly spiked hair backlit by the lively party still going on inside without them. The golden glow suited Henry. He was always bringing color and excitement and life to things, a supportive friend who always seemed to have a fresh perspective. Henry could make any situation brighter.Except, seemingly, the situation currently happening with Ronan Lynch. “Cheng,” the black-clad boy snarled from the shadows.“Lynch,” Henry offered cheerily.Adam looked between the boys seated on either side of him and couldn’t help but smile at their uncanny similarities and comical differences. They were both sharp, ruthlessly truthful, and undeniably brave, but while Ronan expected nothing from people and was content to go unnoticed, Henry demanded attention everywhere he went. Adam could never figure out if it was intentional, like he knew it almost always was with Aglionby boys, but whatever it was, he found that it didn’t bother him like it probably should have. Perhaps it was because Henry had substance; something actually worth paying attention to. Tonight, Henry wore the first bit of color Adam had seen all night; a sharp black blazer with an explosion of curling, twisting flowers painted up the sleeves in radiant pinks and yellows. It reminded Adam of Noah: it was hard to stay upset with someone so bright, inside and out. Despite Adam’s lingering annoyance with Henry for startling him into letting go of Ronan’s hand, he offered the boy a genuine smile. That was all the encouragement Henry needed to start talking. He cleared his throat and stated matter-of-factly, “I ran into a very distraught Tad a moment ago.” When neither Ronan nor Adam responded, he continued, “Can you guess what he asked me?”Ronan muttered, “If you could lasso Adam for him?”Adam snickered quietly. Henry looked confused for a moment, but shook it off. “No, he asked me if you two were dating.” At this, Henry made a show of leaning forward to peer at Ronan and Adam’s hands, still nearly touching in the space between them.Adam tried not to read too much into the way Ronan immediately pulled his hand back and began fidgeting with the ever-present leather straps around his wrist.When he glanced back at Henry, whose face wore an expression that was at once curious and knowing, Adam realized with a start that he had completely forgotten to prepare Henry the way he had with Gansey. Henry could have just blown their cover in front of Tad, and if he had, they might as well go home now and call it a night. His heart sank at the thought, and he nervously asked, “What did you tell him?”Henry leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. He tilted his head and said, “I told him I had not heard of such a thing, but that it wouldn’t surprise me, considering the way the two of you seem to exist in an endless game of seeing who can stare longer without getting caught.”Adam felt his face grow hot. He heard Ronan make a strangled noise beside him, but Henry kept talking. “If you ask me, I’m just surprised it took you this long. Gansey and I have been watching your unbearable pining for months, waiting for one of you to suck it up and make a move. Tell me, who finally caved?”Adam was scrambling to find a way to explain everything to Henry, but his thoughts were distracted by the warmth of knowing one of their closest friends apparently had no trouble believing he and Ronan could be together -- and then his thoughts were distracted by an entirely different kind of warmth: the embarrassment of knowing Ronan had just heard everything Henry had said. He felt a new sense of urgency to explain how mistaken Henry was, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, he felt the gentle, barely-there touch of a finger tracing along the back of his hand. He looked at Ronan before he could stop himself, and when he did, his heart caught in his throat. Ronan was already looking at him.Adam had completely forgotten Henry’s question by the time Ronan answered, “I did,” and had to retrace the conversation to put the pieces together. When he finally grasped what Ronan was saying, he sputtered, “Wait, what?” He shot Ronan a confused look. Ronan simply slid one finger under Adam’s palm and slowly began tracing the skin there.Adam was unraveling.Beside him, Henry suddenly shouted, “Gansey boy! You were right! It’s finally happening!” Adam’s world snapped back into focus, and he realized with a start that Gansey and Tad had come outside to find them. Suddenly, Ronan’s barely-there touches at his hand made sense -- he had noticed Tad’s approach before Adam yet again, and this was his way of asking permission to continue. Adam’s smile was soft and genuine, and he wordlessly turned his hand so that it was facing up in the space between them. Ronan looked at him for a moment, his expression indiscernible, and then he took Adam’s hand in his and closed his fingers, holding on tightly just as he had done before.Adam wondered if this was what people meant when they said something felt like coming home. How could he know? His heart ached with an emotion too big to name. __________ Gansey had waited to respond to Henry until he was close enough to see what was going on. His face lit up when he saw Ronan’s hand clasped around Adam’s. He looked at Ronan curiously. “Is it true now?”Ronan glanced nervously at Adam with an unspoken question. Neither one of them had considered the possibility of accidentally fooling their closest friends in the process of fooling Adam’s persistent admirer, yet here they were. Adam sat for a moment, brow furrowed in thought, but apparently his mental search came up empty because all he managed to give Ronan was a hint of a shrug. Ronan didn’t know what else to do but look up at Gansey and nod. Gansey stepped closer and slapped Ronan on the back as he cheered, “I knew it! Didn’t I tell you he would say yes?”Ronan felt like he’d just had the wind knocked out of him. He coughed once, twice, and then ground his jaw shut. He blindly told himself that Adam couldn’t hear the meaning in Gansey’s words like he did -- he couldn’t know -- but then he felt Adam give his hand a squeeze.So maybe he did know.Ronan closed his eyes and focused every ounce of energy on breathing, slowing his heart, resisting the urge to tear his hand away and disappear.The feeling of Adam’s thumb brushing softly against his pulled him out of his thoughts just enough for him to give into the terrifying temptation to steal a glance at the boy next to him.The look he found in Adam’s eyes was like nothing he had ever seen before. They held a quiet sort of bravery; open and vulnerable. When their eyes met, Adam’s mouth turned up in the softest smile. A stupid, reckless courage pounded in Ronan’s chest. Despite himself, an answering smile tugged at his lips. Turning back to Gansey he challenged, “You mean, didn’t I tell you he wouldn’t be able to resist my charm forever?”Adam let out a hearty laugh, then nudged Ronan’s foot with his own. “Is that what you’ve been calling it?” He was teasing Ronan while still looking at him like he was the best thing he’d ever seen.Courage settled into Ronan’s bones. If he could put that look on Adam’s face, he could do anything. He gave Adam's foot a playful, nervous nudge of his own, and muttered quietly, just for him, “It worked, didn’t it?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tad Carruthers had been content to lurk in the background at first, steering clear of the conversation, and instead staring quietly at Ronan and Adam’s hands. It was hard to tell if he was even listening to Gansey and Henry talk excitedly about how they had known all along -- how this was bound to happen sooner or later. He seemed distant, thinking about something off in his own little world.After a while, the crease in his brow softened and his face resumed its typical Tad expression, an overly-excited smile. He awkwardly stepped closer to Adam and fixed his eyes on his face, refusing to make eye contact with Ronan. “I’m glad you could make it, Adam!”Ronan tapped his feet in an impatient rhythm. Sitting through uncomfortable pleasantries with Tad Carruthers was the last thing he wanted to be doing right now. Since their silent understanding, their wordless recognition of this something between them, Adam’s thumb had not stopped moving. Currently it was gently stroking a continuous line from the base of Ronan’s hand, up along his thumb, and back down again. Over and over. Ronan tried to keep a grip on his thoughts, but his skin felt electric and there was too much Adam going on for him to be able to breathe properly.Tad reached out to nudge Adam on the shoulder. “You look good! I mean, don’t get me wrong, you always look good, but wow! You sure do clean up nicely!” He still hadn’t blinked.Ronan wondered at the kind of stupidity it took for someone to flirt with Adam Parrish while he was so clearly busy taking another man apart. The complete pointlessness of this conversation grated on him. He pressed himself into Adam’s side, leaning into Tad’s line of sight with a raised eyebrow. When Tad’s pleasant expression slipped for a half-second, Ronan shot him a dark smirk and said, “If you think he cleans up nicely, you should see him when he gets dirty.” Beside him, he could hear Adam let out a breath and mutter an exasperated, “Oh my God.” A wild grin crossed Ronan’s face.Okay, so maybe this wasn’t entirely pointless, if he could still make Adam blush. Tad rolled his eyes. Instead of replying to Ronan, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki slacks and attempted to keep his voice conversational. “So, Adam, how long have you and Ronan been together?”Adam thought for a moment and then gave an exaggerated shrug and drawled, “Define together. ”Ronan leaned in again and stage-whispered, “Yeah, like ‘ sex’ together, or ‘ we’re talking’ together?” Adam withdrew his hand from Ronan’s, covering his face and muffling a horrified laugh. “Jesus Christ, Ronan.”Tad looked supremely uncomfortable, but he didn’t let that stop him from answering Adam. “You know what I mean,” he averted his eyes and spoke quietly through clenched teeth, as if that would somehow help disguise the nature of their conversation from Ronan, sitting two inches away. “It seems your friends have just heard the news, so I can’t imagine things are too serious yet?”There was something irritatingly hopeful about the way he said this, and Ronan bristled. To his surprise, Adam sounded as annoyed as he felt. “If that’s your way of asking if I’m going to get sick of Ronan any time soon, sorry, that’s not going to happen.” Their eyes met briefly, hinting at a conversation they couldn’t have here.Tad ignored them and shrugged. “A guy can hope. It is Ronan.”“It is Ronan,” Henry interrupted happily, “which is why I am dying to hear how he turned on the charm and managed to snag a catch like Adam.” Henry winked at Adam and then leaned past him to shoot a meaningful look at Ronan. He asked, “Are you ever going to tell me the story?”Ronan shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “Shit, I don’t know. There’s not much to tell.”Tad narrowed his eyes, “That’s easy enough to believe, but unfortunately I’m still curious.” Before he could form a snarky reply, Ronan’s phone went off in his pocket. He saw Noah’s name on the screen and briefly weighed his options. He could stay here and fumble through a make believe story about getting Adam Parrish to fall for him, or he could pretend this was important and excuse himself. He quickly leaned into Adam and whispered, “You're on your own for this one, babe. Make me sound good.” He ran a rough hand through Adam’s hair as he stood, aggravating only some of the blush off the boy’s face, and then waved his phone at the rest of them in a wordless excuse before walking off into the darkened courtyard. __________ czerny (8:05 pm): how are things going with BEAUTIFUL??? czerny (8:05 pm): ;) czerny (8:05 pm): you sly dog!!!! ronan (8:06 pm): i dont know what ur talking about czerny (8:06 pm): LIES czerny (8:06 pm): adam told me everything czerny (8:06 pm): so u think hes beautiful huh? :’) god ims o proud czerny (8:06 pm): look @ u go!!!!!!! ronan (8:07 pm): adam was texting you about me? czerny (8:07 pm): omfg yes like an hour ago?? have u 2 still not figured ur shit out? czerny (8:07 pm): honestly ro do i need to come down there myself czerny (8:07 pm): bc i will. i stg i will pause this game and drive over there in my underwear to stage an intervention if i have to ronan (8:08 pm): i’d like to see u try ronan (8:08 pm): u might look a little underdressed next to henry... czerny (8:08 pm): omg yesss henry!!!! <3 what is he wearing????? czerny (8:08 pm): omg no! focus noah. u can tell me all about delicious mr. cheng later czerny (8:09 pm): ok honestly tho - how is everything going? ronan (8:09 pm): worse after hearing u call henry cheng delicious. never do that again. ronan (8:10 pm): but things r ok i think. ronan (8:10 pm): gansey’s a fucking moron and basically told adam how i feel ronan (8:10 pm): but he’s not freaking out? he’s smiling more and still holding my hand so that’s good right czerny (8:10 pm): YOAU RARE HYOLDING HANDS????????? czerny (8:11 pm): RONAN NIAL LLYCH I WILL FKUCKING KILL YOY czerny (8:11 pm): i’m coming over therer rignt now! czerny (8:11 pm): its finally hpapening!!! ronan (8:12 pm): jesus chill out you sound like gansey ronan (8:12 pm): idk if anything is even happening… we haven’t talked yet czerny (8:12 pm): ok so what in the ever loving fuck are u doing talking to me? go hold his hand some more u dumbass!! czerny (8:12 pm): i cnat believe :’) czerny (8:12 pm): if u dont talk to him after this im disowning u czerny (8:13 pm); honestly ronan its time ronan (8:13 pm): ill say it again - chill the fuck out ronan (8:13 pm): im waiting to be sure. fucking sue me __________ All eyes were on Adam Parrish, eagerly awaiting the story of how he and Ronan got together. Adam was honestly a bit relieved that Ronan wasn’t here for this, because he wasn’t sure how much more pretending he could do tonight. He quickly decided against making up a fake story for Tad; instead, he would try to stick as close to the truth as possible. He felt he owed himself -- owed Ronan -- that much.He sucked in a breath and began, “I guess the reason you aren’t surprised about all of this is because we’ve been close for a long time.”Tad interrupted by mumbling to himself, “Oh, no, I’ve been surprised by that all along.”Adam ignored him and continued, “I don’t really even know when it turned into something more; but recently we’ve been spending more time together, and, I don’t know, I guess something clicked?”Henry sighed and looked at Adam with affectionate disappointment. “Adam, you’re not telling us anything we didn’t already know. I, for one, want details! How did he tell you? Who kissed who first?”Adam chewed at his lip, aware of all the times he’d desperately wanted to kiss Ronan but hadn’t been allowed. He wished he had an answer for Henry, but he wouldn’t lie about this, so he kept quiet. Tad seized the opportunity to butt in and sighed haughtily, “I, for one, don’t want to think about Ronan Lynch kissing anybody.”Adam was beginning to see why Ronan had been so done with Tad earlier; it was growing more difficult to restrain himself every time Tad made some stupid remark. Adam looked up, thoroughly unamused, and asked, “What’s your problem, Tad?”Tad rolled his eyes, like Adam was the one with a problem. “I just don’t get what you see in him.”“I can provide you with an itemized list, if you’d like,” Adam said dryly.Beside him, Henry choked on a laugh and Gansey cleared his throat to defend his good friend’s honor, “Tad, we know Ronan can be a bit prickly at times, but he has a good heart, and he’s a good guy.”Tad looked unconvinced. He whined, “For Adam, though? How does that even work?”Adam raised an eyebrow. He was done trying to be nice to someone who consistently ignored everything he said, but acted like they had a say in his personal choices. “It works perfectly,” he said, giving Tad a cold look. “He acts like an asshole sometimes; giving me mixtapes with only the shittiest song in the world, showing up in the middle of the night to harass me while I try to study, taking up every minute of my free time with trips to the barns…” Tad was beginning to look satisfied with himself, but Adam rushed on with a new warmth in his voice, “--but that song makes me laugh when I’m driving home after a shitty day at work, he makes sure I actually have fun studying Latin instead of just staring at the pages until dawn, and our trips to the barns are some of the only times I ever feel truly relaxed.”Tad was silent, so Adam continued. “And if you think he’s the only one capable of being an asshole, you’re mistaken. He’s not afraid to call me out on my shit, and he doesn’t leave when I call him out on his. We’re actually helping each other grow, here.”Gansey had a quiet smile on his face; he looked proud, but for once he wasn’t saying anything. Tad wasn’t completely convinced, though, and he grumbled, “That’s all great, Adam, but it just sounds like you are really good friends. What about that spark ? Don’t you want that?”At that, Adam laughed out loud. “Well, since you didn’t want to hear about Ronan Lynch kissing anybody, I thought you might not want to hear that all I can think about is kissing Ronan Lynch.” He felt lighter, saying it out loud.Tad looked incredibly uncomfortable, and Henry was laughing and slapping Adam on the back, but Adam still wasn’t finished. “Look, I’m done trying to convince you that Ronan is too good for all of us, because, frankly, your opinion is irrelevant, but if it’ll help you sleep at night, just know that he’s the best friend I’ve ever had, and he’s the only person in the world I’ve ever felt this way about. I know you were hoping the lack of a story meant there was nothing here, but that’s not the case at all. The reason there’s not much of a story is because all he’s ever had to do was ask.” __________ For the second time that night, Ronan was dragging Adam away from Tad without a word. Adam’s heart raced from the surprise of it all; he hadn’t even heard Ronan come back, he had no idea how long he had been listening. All he knew was that he’d suddenly felt Ronan’s hand grab his, heard him mutter a gruff, “Noah called, I have to go,” towards Gansey and Henry, and then they were walking briskly across the courtyard towards the back entrance of the main hall.When they got to the door, though, Ronan kept walking. He led Adam along the side of the building until they rounded the corner into darkness, away from the lights, away from prying eyes. He released Adam’s hand and paced back and forth quietly.Adam stood silently, unsure of what to say or do. In the half-light, he could barely make out Ronan’s wrecked expression, but it was enough to undo him. He scrambled to organize his thoughts. He reached out a hand to touch at Ronan’s arm and asked, “Is Noah alright?”Ronan stopped and looked at him curiously for a moment, and then remembered. “Oh. Shit. Yeah. He’s fine, he’s playing video games in his underwear.”Adam gave a little surprised laugh, and then hesitated. “So…”Ronan looked away, and then glanced back, nervous. “I just needed to…” He stopped, and tried again, “Were you…” he took a deep breath, “How much of that was true?” His gaze was intense now, and Adam couldn’t look away as swallowed. He was barely able to get the words out. “All of it.”When Ronan didn’t respond, he added somewhat defensively, “I’m not good at pretending.”Ronan laughed suddenly, and a mischievous grin tugged at his lips. “So you can’t stop thinking about kissing me, huh?”Adam flushed and wanted desperately to roll his eyes, but he was still being pulled into Ronan’s steady gaze. He tried for a glare instead, “In the brief gaps between thinking about leaving you in a box on the side of the road.”Ronan took a step closer, still smiling, and challenged, “Who would help you enjoy your Latin homework?”“Jesus Christ, Ronan, how much did you hear?” Adam exclaimed, his desperate blush reaching out to strangle his voice. He tried to take a step back to catch his breath, but found himself backed into the wall.Ronan’s smile grew soft and all hints of teasing vanished as he quietly answered, “Enough.” He closed the distance between them with one more step and reached out a tentative hand to brush along Adam’s cheek. He paused for a brief moment, leaving time for Adam to say something, to look away, to take it all back.Adam reached out an unsteady hand and touched gently at Ronan’s tie; feeling the silky material between his fingers.Neither boy moved for a long moment, letting an overwhelming feeling wash over them in the smallest of touches and the quiet sound of their shared ragged breathing. Ronan’s thumb gently traced over Adam’s cheekbone, and slowly slid down to run across the corner of his mouth, and then it was all too much. Adam gave Ronan’s tie a single tug with one hand and wrapped the other around his neck, pulling him close in a burst of impatience. Ronan stopped short and grinned, his nose grazing up and down the side of Adam’s in a motion that couldn’t have been anything but playful. His breath lingered hot for a half-second before he slowly pressed his lips to Adam’s. The playfulness disappeared behind an earnest, soft kiss. __________ Ronan held himself together with his hands tangled in Adam’s hair, and Adam held him close with his hands pulling at anything he could grasp; a tie, a shirt collar, his hips. Lips pressed together again and again, retracing months of secret desires, melting into each other with a slick warmth until the feeling in Ronan’s chest threatened to shatter him. He broke away to catch his breath, leaning his forehead against Adam’s and letting out a shaky laugh. “Shit.”Adam’s ragged breathing mirrored his own. “Shit,” he agreed breathlessly. After a moment to catch his breath, he grinned. “‘You should see him when he gets dirty’? Really , Ronan?” When Ronan didn’t reply right away, Adam nudged him and teased, “Is that why you’re always so irritable when I come back from a shift at Boyd’s?”Ronan pulled away and tried for a scowl. “Shut the fuck up, Parrish.” He added quietly, “You have no idea how hard it is to be around you and not be allowed to touch.”Adam tugged at his hands, pulling them around his waist before reaching up to take Ronan’s face in his hands. “That shouldn’t be a problem, anymore,” he grinned, sliding his hands around the back of Ronan’s neck, “and yes, I do know how hard it is. You’ve never tried writing an essay with the guy you like sitting ten feet away.”Ronan grinned, “So you like me, huh?”Adam rolled his eyes before burying his head in Ronan’s shoulder. “I thought that was pretty obvious, dumbass.”After a quiet moment, Ronan leaned into the side of Adam’s face and whispered softly, “Do you want to do this for real?”Against him, Adam smiled. “What exactly are you asking me?”“Come on, Parrish,” Ronan complained. After a moment, he took a deep breath and relented, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”Adam pulled his head back, overflowing with visible happiness, and nodded.“I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you, what was that?” Ronan teased.Adam looked up as if asking the sky for help, and laughed, “Fuck you. Yes, I want to be your boyfriend.”Ronan crowded in close to steal another kiss, but it only lasted a second before they were both smiling too much to continue.The sound of Ronan’s phone vibrating broke the intimate silence, and Adam motioned for him to check it, if only for a distraction so he could have a second to control his pounding heart. czerny (8:43 pm): im here czerny (8:43 pm): i couldnt take it anymore!!! czerny (8:43 pm): u guys need serious help czerny (8:43 pm): where r u?? Ronan started laughing, loud and full, and Adam leaned in to read the messages. “Oh my God,” he laughed, and reached for the phone. “Give me that.” ronan (8:44 pm): Sorry, I’m busy making out with my boyfriend. ronan (8:44 pm): Don’t really feel like stopping any time soon. ronan (8:44 pm): But since you’re here -- Henry was asking about you. ;)
11349786	Lean On Me	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Original Female Character(s)", "Fandom": "The Avengers (Marvel Movies)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Naughty_Little_Sausage", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "1,178", "Additional Tags": "steve is a sweetheart, Tony Stark Has a Heart, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Leg Braces, Wheelchair's are cool, Stevie don't care that we ill, Steve is a bit kinky near the end, He likes being called 'Cap', Reader is a little chubby, Tanya is a little slutty", "Relationship": "Steve Rogers/Reader", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Chronic Illness Readers", "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 }	“Tony Stark?”I looked confused at the invite my friends had given me, before looking back at them.“Yeah! Stark is holding a massive party, and we managed to snag tickets!” Holly chirped.“How, did Tanya get her tits out?” I smirked.“Wounded!... maybe….” smiled Tanya, “a low cut shirt goes a long way sometimes.”I laughed, before looking back at the invite, a small pit souring in my stomach.“I’m not sure guys, it’s gonna be full of beanpoles that are gorgeous and I…”“Nope, we’re not having any of that! You are coming, even if we have to drag you in the wheelchair!” interrupted Holly.“I’d rather leave the chair at home, just go with the crutches.” I said.“Either way, you’re coming,” smiled Tanya, “I don’t go round wearing low cut shirts for nothing.” “Never put Stark down as a fan of Backstreet Boys,” I laughed from my bar stool, cradling my drink as the two girls danced to ‘Larger Than Life’, hips swaying as men ogled them.“Come on, come dance!” Tanya beckoned.“You are dancing!” Holly came over, taking one hand, as Tanya took my other, the two supporting me as we danced, both ignoring the lads for me.“Shake dem hips, gurl, out of us all, you got the best ass!” Tanya laughed.Shaking my head, I gave them a shimmy, slowly becoming immersed in the cheesy 00’s pop.As the song slowly faded into ‘A Thousand Miles’, a figure tapped on Tanya’s shoulder.“Come on, I sorted you out with tickets, you gotta sort me out with a dance,” smirked Stark.“Chill, let me help my friend back to her seat,” Tanya grinned as her and Holly helped me back on my stool.Both merged into the crowd, and I smiled softly at the two.It was then I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I looked round.“M’am. I hope you’re well.”Steve Rodgers smiled at me, and I nodded back.“I am indeed, how about you?” I replied.“Very well. I was wondering, would you like to, have a dance?” he asked.“Oh. I’d love to, but my legs, they’re not, I need… I normally need crutches or help to stand and dance, and I'm a bit heavy...” I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.“That’s ok. I’ll help.”He placed his hands on my waist, lifting me up with ease and onto the floor, where he took my hands in his own, as the song slowed a bit.With some confidence that I had no idea I had, I placed my arms round his neck, and he placed his own round me, pulling me close, enough to support me and help, but not so much that I was uncomfortably pressed up.“So, what’s wrong?” he asked as ‘Just The Way You Are’ came on.“I have Chronic Pain and Chronic Fatigue. Had them for a few months now. This is the first time I’ve come out since the diagnosis. I need crutches or a wheelchair to avoid my legs being so worm out that I can’t walk for a few days after.” I shrugged.“And they’re both incurable?” he asked delicately.“Pretty much. Scuppers any dating chances,” I laughed lightly.“I don’t know, you could call this a date?”I looked to the Super Solider, eyes wide.“R-R-Really? I would have thought you’d be after some supermodel, I mean, enough girls probably fancy the pants off you…” I said.He gave a laugh this time.“I was never into the supermodel types. It was all the rage in the 30’s, but we’re now in 2017. I always preferred the softer girls, with the bright eyes and the infectious laugh.” He smiled.“But, don’t you want someone who… well… works? For want of a better phrase.”“I couldn’t care. You’re beautiful regardless of your conditions. Just the way you are.”“Smooth, Rodgers.”“That’s Captain to you,” he whispered.I giggled, “Sorry, Cap.” ~* Hey look, another time skip *~ “You got tickets?!” Holly gaped.I giggled, “yep. Girl has her ways.”“Did your Captain get you them?” smirked Tanya.“How’d ya guess?” I laughed.It was then there was a knocking at the door. Wheeling over, I opened it and laughed.“I’m not even gonna ask how you got my address.”“Your mate Tanya gave me it,” Stark said idly, “anyway, I heard about you and Stars and Stripes, and Tanya told me about your conditions. So, I figured, had a couple of hundred sitting there doing nothing, I could help ya out. Y’know, so you can enjoy a party without needing to lean on him.”He pulled the briefcase in as he strolled in, me shutting the door after and following him to the sofa where he had sat down.He pulled a case out, and placed it on the table, before opening it.“Oh, my, god.”“Nope, Tony will do fine,” the billionaire smiled as I looked over the leg braces, metal of blue, white and red, tears coming to my eyes, “try them on.”I lifted them out, before slipping them on my leg, noting them to be a bit big.“Here,” Tony handed I a small remote, and I pressed the button.They whirred into life and tightening perfectly around my legs.“Give them a try.”With Tanya and Holly holding on as I stood in case, I got up, and as they let go, the tears fell down my face.“I’m standing, unaided,” I choked out, “and the pain hasn’t increased or anything.”I tentatively took a few steps, before looking at Tanya and Holly, who were in shock.“I can walk! Without my crutches!” I almost screamed, crying with joy, “I’d forgotten what this was like.”“Come on, let’s get you ready for Star Spangled.” Tony smiled. “Hey,”Steve turned as I rested a hand on his back, and smiled, before confusion flittered across his face.“Hey, you’re walking….” He started, before he noted the braces, “Tony?”“Correct. I can dance properly with you, you don’t have to support all of me – your arms must hurt after.” I smiled.“That’s amazing, but, I kinda liked you leaning into me,” Steve said softly, as I rested my arms round his neck again, “and trust me, they don’t. I could never get tired of holding you.”I laughed as he placed his hands round my waist, “I can still lean if you want. But it means when faster songs come on, I can keep up.”He chuckled as we began to dance, “I guess.”“It also means, as your hands don’t have to hold me all the time, they can wander elsewhere.”“Oh?” The solider raised an eyebrow at this point, his hands travelling down to cup my butt, “like this you mean?” “That’s exactly what I meant, Cap.”He gave a small growl, pulling my hips into his own, smirking like a cat whom had caught the canary, “keep calling me that, and your conditions wont be the only reason you’ll need your wheelchair.”
11385501	Trial by Fire	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Tulip O'Hare, Emily Woodrow, Jesse Custer, Proinsias Cassidy", "Fandom": "Preacher (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by ItsClydeBitches", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "3,756", "Additional Tags": "Episode Tag, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Polyamory, (implied) - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Women Being Awesome, Cookies!", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Proinsias Cassidy/Jesse Custer, Tulip O'Hare/Emily Woodrow", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Tulip believed firmly that the strongest friendships were forged in fire. No, not just facing the flames together—setting each other ablaze. If you hurt someone, betrayed them, kicked them when they were down and they still reached up a hand in trust to you... that was someone worth keeping. Probably wasn’t the healthiest way of viewing things—sure as hell wasn’t the nicest—but it was a goddamn truth she’d learned hard and fast over the course of her life and it had held true. Everyone who’d ever given Tulip a sunny smile had left as quick as it took for it to sour. Everyone she’d bared her teeth at and who’d bit her in turn? They’d stayed. They’d been worth investing in. 10:53 Tuesday morning and the number of investments Tulip had was exactly two: Jesse Fucking Custer, asshole extraordinaire, and Cassidy of first name unknown, professional monster—whose title had absolutely nothing to do with his bloodsucking nature. Tulip loved her boys. Never doubt that, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t on the lookout for something more. And she found more, in the sunny living room of her piss-poor neighbor. “Stay away from my boyfriend!” Tulip hurled the words even harder than whatever projectile she’d scooped up into her hands, dimly aware of it smashing against the far wall. They were rage-filled and a little fragile, because Tulip didn’t know where any of them stood anymore. She and Jesse had yet to recreate what they’d had outside of Annville. Tulip didn’t know what she had with Cass. What Cass and Jesse had with each other? Ha! That was a whole mess of shit that she’d stepped in. God help her poor shoes. And then here was Emily, encroaching on it all. Tulip might have been a firecracker, a pistol, and goddamn fuckin cunt and so many other things, but even she balked at getting violent with pretty little Emily, soft-spoken and oh so polite. It was coming too, Tulip could feel it building in her bones and smashing some stupid art project did shit all to alleviate the itch. She had to leave then. Quickly. Tulip pushed past Emily’s shell-shocked expression before she started throwing punches at it. It was a little better out in the car. Tulip let the heat and claustrophobia press down on her anger some, containing it. She had everything under control. Yes siree. Fucking peachy. Which means she assuredly did not jump when Emily came banging on the window. Tulip stared. Her mouth was catching flies and her eyebrows crawled up into her hair because goddamn, who would have guessed it? Sunny Emily Woodrow—renowned for her pies, charity, and a history of letting people walk all over her—was cussing Tulip out just fine and fair. It was in that moment, leaning away from the window because Jesus Christ Emily was leaning in, that Tulip remember that the girl had grown up in Annville, just like she had. Mousiness aside, she was a Texan, and Tulip would have done well to remember that. Emily was reminding her now. “You broke my kid’s art thing,” she hissed, shaking the bits of pottery in Tulip’s face. It really should have been funny, but Tulip wasn’t laughing just yet. That ‘art thing’ was a treasure now. The shards’ edges sharper than any knife. Emily’s fury wasn’t something to piss on so Tulip nodded, holding up her hands like so many arrests and eased her way carefully out of the car. “Alright,” she said. The sun was beating down hard on her head. “Don’t throw a fit about It, ‘Em. I can fix the stupid thing. Just gimme a chance.” A calculated risk, but Tulip was nearly as good with words as she was her fists: the quick agreement, tempered by a an implication that Emily was overreacting, that Tulip wouldn’t take all of this shit lying down; slipping in a personal nickname; the blunt request for a second chance, obvious to anyone with half a brain... and Emily had a whole noggin to work with. Tulip was only half surprised when she lowered the shards and gave a clipped nod in response. Her sensible flip-flops smack-smack-smacked on the way back inside. There were lots of names for Tulip O’hare, but not one of them was ‘liar.’ Not to those she’d weathered fire with. So Tulip sat her butt down at that pretty, yellow table and set to mending things with patience and a bit of cheap glue. Emily watched her for the first ten minutes, looking about as thrown as Tulip felt. When she couldn’t take the judgment anymore Tulip flapped a hand in her general direction and told her to sit. Emily stared. Her shoulders jerked a little. “It’s my house.” “All the more reason.” Tulip had her eyes firmly on a particularly messy chunk of clay (the hell was that anyway? The nose? A hoof?), but she watched from the corner of her eye as Emily turned on her heel and walked stiffly to the kitchen. Tulip mentally shrugged. Okay. Let her play it that way. It wasn’t as if she actually gave a damn. Except that just a few minutes later Emily came back out, this time bearing a tray laden with a pitcher of lemonade, two glasses, and a box of Girl Scout Thin Mints. There was even a little doily beneath the offering, all fancy like. Tulip abandoned her work to watch Emily pour herself a glass and down it back like a shot. “You make that fresh?” Tulip asked, pointing to the lemonade. Emily came back up with a gasp. “Of course.” “Jesus you’re a messed up lady.” Which was true enough she supposed. Though of course, Tulip was messed up too. She snagged a glass of her own and got back to work. Somehow, they got talking. Emily asked her with forced casualness where she’d learned to do this. Tulip responded cuttingly that ‘this’ was just shoving chunks of shit together and slathering on some glue—didn’t they teach you this kiddy stuff in school? Her tone somehow didn’t get her kicked out of the house and so Tulip pulled her weight, asking next what the ever loving fuck this was supposed to be. Emily said a bear, though Tommy had always been awful at crafts, huh? It startled a laugh out of Tulip that filled up the room. The heat sent them through the pitcher of lemonade faster than normal, resulting in Tulip asking with gritted teeth where the bathroom was located. She got an embarrassed wave of a hand in response. So she bypassed toys on the floor and more awful art on the walls, sneaking into the powder room (who called it a powder room?) like she was still an intruder instead of a guest—which Tulip kind of thought might be the case. There was smelly potpourri in a dish and a ‘Home Sweet Home’ plaque on the inside of the door, cheesy enough that Tulip considered vomiting when she was done. Instead she snooped through the small medicine cabinet. There were bottles of Xanax and Lorazepam. Neither looked like they came with prescriptions. Tulip pursed her lips. She marched out, grabbed the empty pitcher, and made a beeline for the kitchen. She threw Emily a rude gesture when she implied that Tulip couldn’t make fucking lemonade. As if. “I think that goes there,” Emily said, pointing to a piece that was obviously the snout and not the tail. “Also this is watery.” She sipped at the glass with lazy disdain. “Yours had too much sugar.” Tulip smacked the bit of clay against the rest of the bear’s face. It would fit. “I need the energy. That doesn’t fit.” “It does. And my waistline don’t need all that.” “You’re fucking gorgeous.” Well that line caught Tulip’s attention. Not because of the compliment, or even the offhanded manner Emily delivered it with—a tone that was entirely genuine. Rather it was the curse word snuck in the middle. She’d heard the girl cuss before, but it was always carefully under her breath, kept close to her chest lest it actually escape out into the world where it belonged. It hit Tulip for the second time that day. Annville. Slumped in a rickety chair, drinking lemonade like booze, raising compliments with curses. That was Annville. “Yeah. Guess I am.” Tulip turned the piece and connected the tail. Emily smirked. “Jesse always thought so anyhow.” She saw Emily freeze. Saw her deliberately relax too. The Thin Mints had melted onto the doily and she flicked at the chocolate with her nail. “Jesse has good taste,” Emily said. It came out like a sigh. “Jesse settles.” “Hardly. He could have anyone.” “Yeah, but there ain’t much to choose from in this town, is there? Except you.” Emily rolled a mouthful of drink between her cheeks. “Am I a choice?” She suddenly grinned, more wicked than sad, and Tulip felt her heart speeding up like they’d started a race. “I’m not exactly the greatest catch. Got an iffy ex, after all.” “You think I don’t?” “...a side-piece too.” Hearing Emily say ‘side-piece’ was easily the highlight of Tulip’s week. She sat back with a grin. “No. Who?” “The mayor.” “The mayor? Oh hell fucking no.” Emily shrugged. “He’s... there." “Mmm.” Tulip nodded, considering. “Suppose I’m the same. My piece is the ratty drifter who just came through.” “Cassidy?” “The same." "...oh. He asked me for drugs the other day." Emily said it so straight-face and confused that Tulip inhaled that last gulp of lemonade, choking and spraying a fine mist all over her table. When she finally got some air down her windpipe she started laughing and Emily, astoundingly laughed with her. "Fucking hell." Tulip wiped spit from her chin. "Yeah. That sounds like Cassidy." Emily's face twisted. "That sounds like all the men in my life. Your life too. Even Jesse." It felt like some sort of strange, tentative peace. Tulip only hesitated a moment before agreeing: "Jesse is trash." "Awful." "The fucking worst." The two women paused, making eye contact for the first time in an hour. In that moment they were both aware of the fact that they each wanted Jesse Custer, that neither of them truly had him... and the most important thing: that he wasn't fucking worth this. 'This' being smashed art projects and hearts and the fact that it had taken them this long to maybe, sort of, unexpectedly enjoy one another's company. It was a revelation—hot and scarring like flames. "You know..." Tulip traced her finger slowly around the edge of her cup. "I've got it on good authority that Cass has a thing for Jesse." Emily's eyebrows jumped. "What authority is that?" "The freaking dent in his pants whenever he passes by." Emily laughed, leaning into the table. "That's fascinating, considering I think Jesse kinda likes Cass too." "Oh?" Tulip very deliberately kept her voice light. She could feel Emily doing the same. "They're very... cozy, after church." "Hmm." They were each thinking along similar lines, though what those lines were exactly remained muddled. It was something though, like possibility. Concepts that moved past the boring man-and-wife mentality of the town. The desire to simultaneously hurt these men and give them everything they'd ever wanted. They were thoughts of sharing, thoughts that never would have been possible if Emily hadn't shared first. Breaking bread, so to speak. Tulip took another glass of lemonade. A cookie too. She stared out over the table and into the kitchen. "Want to get those two fools together?” She couldn't seem Emily's expression. Tulip caught the slight intake of breath though. "What if it doesn't work?" She finally asked. "Jesse's... the preacher. What if it ruins him?" Tulip grinned. "Even better." "...what if it doesn't?" "Then that's something I think we can work with." Emily sighed. It wasn't one of defeat though—more the exhale that came before a woman began her work. "More entertaining than Miles," she muttered. Emily lifted her glass for a toast and Tulip happily complied. They left the rest of the art project behind and stepped out of the house together. It was a scorcher of a day. * Cass was having one hell of a weird day. Weirder than normal—and considering this was the town with an All-Powerful preacher, immortal government officials, and a fucking racist 'Indian' dude always loitering outside the bar, that was saying something. And okay, maybe that last fucker wasn't uncommon, but he was still weird. Cass extended a finger and suspiciously poked one of the cookies, gorgeous and gooey on a little blue plate. It indented a bit at his touch because good god, they were still warm. "These are for me?" he clarified because that right there was throwing Cass' world into a confused orbit. Emily just blinked innocently and pushed the plate a little closer to his chest. "Yes." She shook her head. "Honestly would you just take them already? I'm exhausted." Cass quickly snatched the plate and Emily drooped like a marionette on cut strings. She wiped real sweat from her brow. "Exhausted from... bakin' these?" he asked. Cass still held the plate like it was crawling with spiders or some such. Even though he could still feel how warm the treats were. They were piled in a perfect little pyramid that emitted curls of steam, floating up towards the sky. Like holy hell and what the fuck, who managed actual fresh-out-of-the-oven cookies? "I did," Emily said slowly and Cass came back to himself, feeling a little like he should be down on his knees. "But I wasn't really intending to. I mean, I was fine with my Thin Mints, I normally only bake on Saturdays before the church potluck." She pursed her lips, considering. "Someone asked me to this morning though, as a favor. I mean, I've got so much to do, but I couldn't say no to such a cute request." Cass stared. "A cute...? You've lost me, luv." "Really, Cassidy. Someone asked me to bake you cookies. It's all rather sweet. Looks like you've got yourself a secret admirer, but I'm not saying who." Weird indeed. Eerie too. Cass had resigned himself to seeing some strange sights in this here town, but Emily Uptight Woodrow giving him a saucy wink? Walking her fingers up his chest and snatching one of the cookies? Cass felt like someone had pulled the proverbial rug out from under him—and the floor was a fucking lava pit with lava crocs come to snap him up. He was sure his already pasty ass looked like it was going to faint. "Uh huh," he managed. Emily did eventually leave and what passed for Cass' brain did, in time, start firing again. When it did the useless slab of meat told him exactly two things: He still had a massive plate of vaguely warm cookies to devour. There was only one person in Annville who could maybe, possibly, even hypothetically be this so-called "secret admirer." Cass sat down, right there in the dirt by the side of the road, under the safety of a nearby tree. The occasional car drove past and gave him the confused, dirty looks that could only be achieved by those small-towners spotting someone who Didn't Belong. Cass waved them all off with a smile. He felt light and bubbly in the heat, smashing cookies into his mouth so that the chocolate ran down his chin. He was a (literal) bloodthirsty animal. He killed without thought and often enjoyed it. He was also, irrevocably, a romantic. "Jesse Custer," Cass said, shaking his head. He wiped crumbs and chocolate on the edge of his shirt. "You big old softie bastard." * Tulip was fixing the air conditioner. She was, in fact, fixing it fast, pulling out every bit of knowledge that her uncle had ever dropped (few and far between; between the increasingly common periods of drunkenness, that is) and relying on a Youtube video for the rest. There was shit all service in the church, damn thing could only be reached by balancing on the couch, and Tulip could feel a whole mess of drippings rolling down her wrist and dropping onto her jeans. At least maybe that meant the stupid thing would finally work. Lo and behold, it did. Just in time too. Jesse clomped his way to the back of the church, hollering Tulip's name. "In here," she called, giving the ancient machine one last smack. It sputtered to life and Tulip had all of a millisecond to stuff her tools under the couch and spread out casually, one hand propped behind her head. It was a good look on her. She was quite the liar. "Hey, Jesse," she said. He didn't repay her the greeting. Asshole. Well, to be fair, he was a little distracted, staring as he was at the air conditioner like he'd finally, finally gotten to witness the miracle he'd always dreamed of. Tulip took a perverse sort of pleasure in watching his mouth unhinge—not exactly the most attractive look on Jesse. For the first time since this morning Tulip wondered if, when push came to shove, she'd have really been willing to beat Emily's head in over this here fool. Jesse shut his mouth. The image was restored. Shit. Yeah, probably. Hot damn. "You fixed the air conditioner?" he asked. Tulip scoffed with full force—though she made sure not to overdo it. "Me? Hell no. It was all fixed up when I got here." Tulip settled deep into the cushions, making it look like she'd been here a good long time, and raised a languid hand to pat the machine fondly. She hoped her light touch didn't set the thing choking again. "Someone obviously spent a lot of time on this, huh? Gotta think it was just for you. After all, rest of us aren’t spending much time back here. Now I can’t swear to it… but I’ve got a good guess as to who’d go through all the trouble…." It wasn't a lie—Tulip certainly knew herself most of all—but the implication set Jesse's eyes alight. "No," he said. It was slow with disbelief. Tulip had to bite hard on the inside of her lip to keep from grinning. Best that Jesse come to his own conclusions. In fact, best that she not say anything at all. Tulip settled for shrugging against the pillow. And Jesse nodded. There was a whole world encompassed in that nod, a considering, almost sweet (cloyingly, ugh) spark of hope. As she'd hoped he would, Jesse took in all the little details that Tulip had left for him: the now spotless and dust free exterior, the thin blue ribbons attached to the grill that fluttered prettily in the breeze. You could say a whole lot with just an air conditioner. Jesse still had his keys in one hand. He shook them, absently, before finally pointing them Tulip's way. "Mind if I take off?" "But you just got here." Tulip had to play with him, just a little. "I won't be long, promise—" And oh, how sad, Jesse was already out the door, the sound of his increasingly quick footfalls echoing off the church floorboards. Tulip sat up and cranked her neck, even though she couldn't see him. The front doors slammed shut at the exact moment the air conditioner gave out. Tulip laughed like a gunshot. "Perfect timing," she said, giving it another slap. It was almost sad how easy that had been. Now all they had to do was wait. * There was actually little waiting involved. Emily had stationed her car just to the side of the church, watching and waiting for Jesse to leave again. When he did—walking in the way that meant he really wanted to run—she came waltzing in, holding up her second plate of cookies in triumph. Tulip took another minute to re-fix the air conditioner and soon the two of them were shoulder to shoulder on the couch, halving gooey deliciousness and sighing at the breeze on the back of their necks. "What now?" Tulip asked. She pulled apart a cookie until the strings of chocolate stretched thin. Emily rolled her eyes. "I left Cass on the side of the road—the one damn road Annville has. Jesse will reach him in about, oh," she checked her watch. "Now. I suspect they'll start having sex in the flatbed of the truck soon enough.” Tulip snorted. "Nah. Under the tree. Right there in the open. Cass needs the shade." "What? Why?" "...Just 'cause." "Uh huh. Well, I hope they're happy together." "Them? Never. You think they'll realize it’s a setup though?" "Them? Never." “Ha.” There didn't seem to be anything else to say. Their topic of conversation—the only one they presumably had—was well and dry. Tulip held another cookie in her hand and ran her thumb along the heat. She thought of Thin Mints in Emily’s kitchen, and of fire. Together they went through the little batch fast and soon there was another blue plate between them, this one bare but for a few remaining smears. Tulip was thinking hard, so hard, when Emily glanced up with a large piece of cookie dangling from her lips, realization that it was the last one spreading across her face. "Oh," she mumbled. "Sorry—" Tulip leaned forward, taking the rest of the cookie in her mouth, pushing gently until Emily swallowed to let their lips finally meet. “Oh,” she said again. Emily tasted of chocolate, obviously, but her skirt underneath Tulip's hand was softer than she would have imagined. It took her a hot, fuzzy moment to realize she was palming Emily's skin. They were similar then, Tulip could feel it: dainty things with hard interiors, capable of moving through whole waves of emotions in just a day. They were strong and furious. They were Annville girls. Tulip wondered if Cass and Jesse were doing this exact same thing, some three miles out from. Probably. One might say, undoubtedly. The four of them were just synched that way. "Screw 'em," Tulip murmured, smiling against Emily's lips. “Just…” She trailed off because then Emily had pulled her closer, her hands spanning Tulip’s back with a touch that was both tender and bruising. They left prints that smoked against Tulip’s shirt. Trails of fire.
11343186	Mohammeds Mount	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Flutesong [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2004-02-14T00:00:00", "words": "3,132", "Additional Tags": "Humor, Fiction", "Relationship": "Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement", "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 }	Mohammed's Mount Mohammed's Mount by Flutesong Title: Mohammed's Mount Author: Flutesong E-mail: Site: www.hegalplace.com/flutesong Warnings: M/K Slash Rating: R Spoilers: After RatB then AU Notes: A quick treat for Dr. Ruthless and M/K month at the NickZone Thanks to Kashmir for the beta. All the remaining nonsense is mine. September 2003 Disclaimer: Simply Self Abusement Mohammed's Mount Alex sits in his aerie. Impatient with the silence, when he'd said to himself not five minutes ago, that no news was 'good' news. That his peace was well earned. He spins on the wheeled stool, quickly scanning the panoramic view through all five windowpanes. He scans the sophisticated equipment too. Nothing, nada, zip, all is quiet and serene. The birds' flutter, the leaves wave, the occasional column of dust gathers and dissipates in the winds. "Goddamn motherfucking son-of-a-bitch", he lets the familiar string of profanity out in a rushed breath, pauses and says, "goddamn mother-fucking cocksucking son-of-a-bitch, who'd'a thought I would miss the bloody mess!" He says this quite loudly and startles himself with the echo that comes back off the clear expanses of glass. He runs his hand across his unshaven jaw, down his bare chest and fingers the loose, raggedy ends of his sloppy cutoffs. "Pathetic, Alex, old boy," he says aloud, and finally admits to himself that he 'is' tired of the silence. He spins madly about on the stool for emphasis. He jars his knee and jumps off the stool. He kicks the offending furniture and sends it crashing into the side of the metal desk. The resulting clang is somewhat satisfying. He thinks briefly about trashing the whole place and shooting holes into the unbreakable glass. Then he remembers it is his place and his glass, and thinks better of the impulse. He checks the dials once more, although there is nobody around who could've changed the settings since his last check. He stomps down the circular stairway, goes through the living area and defiantly turns on the hot tub in the glass-enclosed bath, full blast. He shucks the shorts, pauses, and goes back into the living area. He switches on the CD unit, grabs a copy of the Stones Greatest Hits and shoves it in the player. He turns the volume up to ear splitting and the bass to jet-engine intensity and stomps back to the bath. For a few minutes, in the middle of the crashing, blasting, wall vibrating, scalding water imbued environment, he feels comfortable. It sounds like something is happening, even if nothing really is. "I'm not a monk," he says inaudibly. "I've read one hundred and thirty-seven books, watched two hundred and twelve movies, explored the entire Internet and learned how to shoot squirrels with the new prosthetic arm. I've eaten everything 'but' the squirrels and I'm talking to myself. I gotta get the hell outta this place!" He splashes water over the side of the tub just to watch it run down the drain in the center of the room and soak the dark blue rugs a darker blue along the way. "Or at least I gotta get out long enough to find something to drink and someone to fuck before I come back." Thus said, he shuts off the tub, decides to get a shave and a haircut in town and dresses. The top button of his jeans is tight. He decides it's because he's still damp from the bath or the workouts on his abs has built up a strong layer of muscle. The waistband cuts into his air supply and he huffs a bit bending over and dragging on his boots. His jacket is reassuringly large, he stuffs the various pockets with guns, money, condoms, and his favorite bone handled switchblade. He looks in the mirror on the way out and decides maybe he doesn't need the shave and haircut after all. "Lookin' good," he says to the tough guy in the reflection, turns on all the `away' alarm devices and shuts the door behind him. Mulder careens on his new, wheeled office chair from light table to computer monitor and back again. It's quiet for once and there are only a few workaholics hanging around this evening. Almost a third of the entire basement of the Hoover has been transformed into the XFiles Division. He knows the names of all his staff, but only because of his handy-dandy retentive memory. Scully is in her element. They are co-heads. He thinks this is funny as hell; and says 'Cone Heads' in his mind every time and 'We are from France'. She has her own staff of scientists with iron stomachs, who don't get queasy during X-File autopsies. From his 'head' office, he can look through a wide expansion of glass, across the vast berth of other agent's desks and equipment, right into her expanse of glass and her office. She never draws the ubiquitous beige blinds for privacy. He knows she enjoys the view of busy, dedicated worker-bees. He hates all of it. Their staffs roam from case to case, write up meticulous reports, and take a large number of pictures, samples and readings. Everything is coached in official Fibbie-speak and most of the findings are finalized and tagged as non-paranormal. Once in a while, the reports are serialized and appear in the various medical, scientific and para-science journals. They have a ninety-seven percent case closure rate. The MUFON, alien believers and conspiracy theorists rave at him and the X-Files division. They have now become the official 'enemy' of revealing the 'Truth'. He longs for the days when he was reviled by Officialdom and respected by the fringe elements. The fucking basement, no matter how vast, still has no windows to the outside that one can see without standing on a chair. He rides his chair, at a fast clip, by the gleaming rows of technology and into his office. He yanks the blinds and they fall with a clatter, enclosing him in familiar and comfortable dimness. He has posters and pictures on the wall that he refuses to let the staff frame. He has the best in round trashcans for his basketball shooting practice, but the ceiling is some kind of new, healthier material and it doesn't hold pencils. Everything gleams, even in the dimness. There are hardly any dust motes rising and falling mysteriously in the half-light. "I'm going home," he mutters to himself very quietly, less the eagerbeaver ears, of some staff member or other, thinks he is asking them a question. Home is a clean three-year-old condominium built over what was once interesting turn of the century ruins. He hates the place and wonders why the hell he let himself be talked into buying it after the quiet dirty war was over, and he got the big fat raise in lieu of the public disclosure he really wanted. Scully got the raise too and bought an actual house with a garden, sunroom and gazebo. She holds Sunday afternoon sessions with her staff there, although they are thinly disguised professorial 'teas', like the ones he remembers attending with Phoebe at Oxford. He doesn't attend and Scully has given up bitching at him for his lack of niceties and getting to know the staff on a social basis. In fact, she has given up on almost everything they once shared. The intimacy engendered by the secrecy and paranoia of their investigations is gone. The heightened awareness of each other's state of mind and physical safety is gone too. With these things gone, the passionate, if chaste, bond between them is gone as well. He missed it terribly at first. Other than the occasional onenighter' s, when she was elsewhere and did little to satisfy his stifled personal needs, that simmering, sexy connection had gone a long way to help him feel as if he were still potent and desired. "Goddamned sorry son-of-a-bitch", he mutters a little louder. He viciously switches off his equipment, leaves the blinds down and turns off the light. He kicks the chair into the desk as he leaves. It makes a mild thunking sound when it connects. Dissatisfied, he leaves, locking the door, and doesn't say goodnight on his way out. At home he slams the most outrageous orgy video into his new DVD player and the writhing mass of bodies quickly appears on his widescreen TV. He turns the sound of their grunts, groans, 'yeah, baby's' and screams way up. He leaves the lights off and the doors to the bedroom and bath open. He undresses quickly, tossing the whole pile into the bottom of his walk-in closet. He has a once-a-week maid who'll sort it out and get it to the cleaners. He'll find it all neatly put away in a few days. He showers and shaves quickly, dresses in his favorite gray T-shirt and finds the zipper on his well washed, perfectly pressed jeans is somewhat difficult of close. "Motherfucker!" He yells at the noisy TV. "I've got to stop eating the morning array of donuts and swilling enchiladas with Frohike twice a week" He kicks over the neat row of shoes on the left side of his closet floor and bends, with a groan, to fetch his favorite sneakers. He deliberately tries to make his mind go blank. He eats those greasy messes with Frohike because the other two friends died along the way to this end. Skinner is gone too, alive, but bitterly not seeing him or anyone. He took a bullet that sentenced him to a wheelchair, garbled speech, and constant nursing care. He's in a fabulous care facility on the banks of a beautiful river. Mulder knows he hates it, hates the rushing water he can't fish in and hates the forced inactivity. The FBI retired him as a Deputy Director with a lush package. Mulder knows it means nothing to Skinner. Mulder turns on the security devices, grabs his leather jacket, and gets in his car. It's a brand new sport-utility vehicle with computerized navigation standard. He slams the door shut and revs the engine. He thinks when he turns forty, nineteen months hence; he'll have a real middle-aged crisis and get a red Jag to celebrate it. The thought, that he'd take the thing and drive it over the Fourteenth Street Bridge and into the Potomac River, whispers seductively. For now, he backs out of the narrow garage and carefully onto the busy street. He's cautious as he drives over the Fourteenth Street Bridge and refuses to note the steel pylon supports. Once he gets on Interstate, he shifts into gear and lets go. It's Friday night and he's heading south toward Richmond or beyond and if he's late on Monday morning, no one will give a damn. By two A.M. Mulder has had enough of driving through the dark at eighty miles an hour. He sees a disreputable bar with a ratty motel behind it off the next exit. "Just the thing!" He crows to himself as he takes the turn, and opens the widows to get a blast of cold night air in his face. With the cool air comes his own second wind and strong feeling that tonight 'something' will happen to relieve the dangerous boredom and heft him out of the civilized rut he's fallen into. He sees the faces that have haunted him for so long flash by in the exit light's reflections on the hood of his car. He sighs and lets them go, go, go into the darkness behind him. The dust settles, like his unanswered questions, back into the pot-holed parking lot. He hears the country guitars twang, with an oddly sophisticated bass line beneath, catching the beat of his heart and firing the blood in his veins, as he approaches the entrance to the bar. The place is packed. The country boys in flannel plaid or open necked polyester shirts and their too tightly, brightly garbed women are mingled among the better-dressed yuppies and a few 'others', dressed in black leather or with visible tattoos on bare muscled masculine arms or curvaceous feminine legs barely covered in tight denim miniskirts. The asses and backs he sees at the bar are equally clad in various class-conscious materials too. He likes the feel of the place immediately and gets it that everyone is here to listen to the music, the mysteriously jazzy bass player, to drink away their weekly concerns, dance and, if lucky, get laid. It's exactly what he wants. He sees an empty, small, dime sized, round table in the far back. He snags a chair from a dancing party's table and holds it over his head as he makes his way to the back. 'Let them try to get it back,' he thinks and his teeth show as he smiles, almost anticipating a fight. "No way," Alex says aloud from his position at the bar and the view in the mirror reflecting the action on the floor. No one actually hears him, the music is too loud or they're talking to someone else. He watches Mulder snatch the chair and head toward the small empty table in the darkened corner. Mulder's hips momentarily distract him as he bumps his way through the crowd. "Well, well, well," he murmurs softly. "Who would'a thought it? This gin joint and all that?" He notes that Mulder's jeans are so tight they look like they're painted on, or maybe he just hopes so. Alex stares down at the foam in his beer mug. He's only just gotten to his second drink and was enjoying being among the multitude so much, he hadn't even begun to prowl for fuckable material. He smiles to himself ruefully, `The most fuck-worthy material I've ever seen is a scant thirty feet away and, most assuredly, as uninterested as ever.' Alex sighs, 'Screw this!' He thinks of his defeatism. 'It's a brave new world and all bets are off. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and when the hell did he ever really get to have a chance with Mulder before? A chance at anything?' He gulps down the rest of his beer and orders two bottles. He pays the barkeep and, snagging his own chair from a nearby table, makes his way toward the dark corner, Mulder, and maybe even a kill shot in the gut with the small caliber he knows the man carries strapped to his shin. His even white smile fools no one, as he stalks his quarry in the corner. The crowd makes room as he ambles through. No one touches him or bumps into him along the way and the smarter ones make sure their eyes don't take note, in case of official inquiry later in the evening. Mulder hardly has time to process the strange sight of the black gloved, stiff hand as it lays two bottles on the table in front of him, before he registers to whom the hand must belong. He starts to rise, but "Now, now, Mulder," is hissed in his left ear and he sits down. Alex plops his chair close enough to Mulder so, when he sits, their thighs are jammed together. Mulder tries to make space, but the table leg prevents it. He compensates by shifting his ass and spreading his legs wider, attempting to make Krycek move over. Alex refuses to accommodate him and they hunker down, plastered together from hip to knee. Alex abruptly stops the mano-et-mano bullshit and gestures toward the beers. "Drink it while it's cold," he says in a normal voice, loud enough to be heard above the noise. Mulder almost begins a litany of objections, realizes he hasn't ordered a drink of his own, nods ungraciously and grabs the beer. Alex drinks too. After a long taste and a few sips, Mulder relaxes and shrugs, as if Fate was once again giving him a homerun hit to sit up and take notice of her. "I get it, I get it," he says aloud to Fate, but only Alex hears him. "Get what?" He asks, "You want another beer?" Mulder laughs and Alex smiles, uncertain what Mulder finds funny, but glad suddenly, that he hasn't been shot. Glad, suddenly, that he's alive. When Mulder is finished laughing, they are relaxed against one another from shoulder to knee. Krycek makes a point of not moving an inch, fully aware that, if he makes anything of their nearness Mulder might realize it and get skittish again. Mulder orders the next beer. Krycek drinks this one very slowly. Six months dry, a fourth beer may be pushing his reflexes. "Of all the gin joints." Mulder toasts him. Krycek nods and toasts back. He dares, now, to lay his hand on Mulder's thigh. Mulder laughs again, deeper in his throat. Alex can feel the reverberations from Mulder's body in his own. He's hard as stone and the damn waistband of his jeans is biting into him. "If you kiss me in here," Mulder says, "I'll shoot you." "If you don't kiss me as soon as we're outta here," Alex says, "I'll leave you gutted in the parking lot." Mulder nods and lets his hand drift under the table and onto Krycek's lap. He feels Krycek almost jump out of the chair and he laughs. "So, 'Alex'," he says slyly, and with emphasis on Krycek's seldom used first name, into his ear, "how long has it been?" Alex retaliates with a thumb pressed along Mulder's erection, but he says, with bleak honesty, "Forever and a day." Mulder is taken aback by the poetic words and the desolate tone of Alex's voice. 'Oh god,' he thinks, `what am I doing?'Krycek has always been a deep, murky pool he's never been able to navigate. He begins to back off, tries to think, but his head is swimming with the music, the beer and Alex's knowing hand on his dick. He wants this. He wants back into the risky unknown, back into the taut stretch of extreme emotions and dangerous demands. His hips jerk into Alex's hand uncontrollably and he feels Alex's answering shudder. 'Yes,' he thinks to himself and "Yes," he says aloud and deliberately pushes himself hard into that hot, large, firm hand and grasps Alex's hard, hot cock firmly. "Yes, oh god! Yes, Mulder!" He hears Alex say, gasping into his ear. They leave the bar and kiss as soon as they're in the shadows of dilapidated building. Mulder follows Alex's black pick-up truck higher and higher into the Southern Virginian mountains. He thinks he might even call in Monday morning and let them know he's taking a long and extremely over due vacation. THE END If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Flutesong
11373018	Nightmare	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Ymir (Shingeki no Kyojin), Krista Lenz \| Historia Reiss", "Fandom": "Shingeki no Kyojin \| Attack on Titan", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by twistedwerewulf", "chapters": "13/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-02T00:00:00", "words": "11,513", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Krista Lenz \| Historia Reiss/Ymir", "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 }	Falling, heat, and then darkness. That’s how her nightmares usually went. Ymir shifted uncomfortably in her bed before jolting awake and hitting her head on the slope of the roof of the girls dorm. “Fuck!” Ymir exclaimed quietly, holding her head for a moment before flopping back down to the bed.“Are you alright?” The familiar voice asked.Ymir turned her head to see Krista on the ladder to her bunk, “Yeah, I’m fine.” “You don’t sound fine.” Krista said reaching her hand out to touch the small lump forming on Ymir’s forehead, “Or look fine either. You’re sweating.” She pointed out.“Yeah, well, it’s hot in here.” Ymir scoffed pulling the blanket off of her body, “You can go back down to your bed.”There was a moment of silence before Ymir felt the new weight next to her in the bed, “You don’t have to do this.” She scoffed lightly.Krista just put her arms softly around Ymir’s waist and held her gently.“You were talking in your sleep.” Krista said, “You sounded scared.”“It was probably just a nightmare. I don’t even remember it.” Ymir lied shifting slightly.“This isn’t the first time it’s happened.” Krista reached up and gently turned Ymir’s face to look at her, “I sleep in the bunk under you I hear everything that happens. This happens a lot.”“Yeah, well you don’t need to worry about it.” Ymir turned her face away, “Go back down to your bunk.”“No.” Krista said tightening her grip around Ymir’s waist,”I don’t want to.”Ymir went silent again as a small blush crossed her cheeks. She decided to give up on kicking Krista out of her bed and she turned to face her. Krista looked at her for a few seconds and rested her head softly on Ymir’s chest.“Do you want to talk about it?” Krista asked.Ymir shook her head, “No, not really. I don’t like to talk about it.”“Okay, I understand.” Krista told her taking a moment to smile up at her.Ymir’s blush spread and she draped her arm carefully over Krista’s waist. She closed her eyes and attempted to sleep again. Even though a thousand thoughts raced through her head, and for a moment she felt almost peaceful. Krista had always seemed to be a calming presence, and Ymir wished that they could run away together with no consequences. But, it was unrealistic.“Ymir?” Krista said after a few minutes of silence.“Hm?” Ymir responded quietly.“You like me, don’t you?” Krista asked adjusting herself to look up.“Well, yeah.” Ymir shrugged, “You’re the only person who really talks to me.” She laughed lightly.“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Krista said sternly.Ymir stared for a moment, she didn’t know Krista could sound that harsh, “Yeah, I do like you. Why does it matter?”“Because, I wanted to know.” Krista admitted resting her head back down, “Because it’s nice to know someone does.”“Everyone likes you Krista.” Ymir told her closing her eyes and resting it back down on her pillow.“But not like you do.” The blonde said.“Reiner does.” Ymir said sighing lightly.“I don’t care if Reiner likes me.” Krista said resting a hand on Ymir’s cheek.“What are you-” Ymir started when suddenly Krista brought their lips together.The kiss started out soft and a stunned Ymir lay there stiff for a moment, but gathered herself quickly and pulled Krista in closer by her hips. The two lay there for several minutes kissing. Krista was surprisingly the one to initiate roughness as she pulled away to breathe lightly biting Ymir’s lip. But, they were soon back at it again. This time though Ymir was the first to spark a new reaction as her hand found it’s way up Krista’s shirt. Suddenly Ymir’s wrist was grabbed by Krista who slowly pulled her hand away. Ymir didn’t even know Krista was that strong.“No, Ymir.” Krista smiled lightly giving her a quick kiss as she backed away., “Go to sleep, okay?”“What, now you’re going to leave me?” Ymir teased settling herself back to sleep.“Do you want me to?” Krista asked already on the ladder.“No.” All joking and sarcasm was gone from Ymir’s voice.“You want me to stay?” Krista asked.“Yes, please.” Ymir said a little more insisting this time.Krista smiled softly and pulled herself back into Ymir’s bunk, “Now go to sleep.” She told the girl pressing their bodies gently together.“Shadis is going to kill us if he sees us like this.” Ymir chuckled lightly after her head hit the pillow.Soon after Ymir did fall asleep, and didn’t have another nightmare. Krista was the most comfortable she had ever been since they started training. The girls slept peacefully through the night.Early in the morning the other girls in the dorm had woken up and disregarded Ymir’s bed since she was usually the last up anyway, and Krista’s bed being empty so early in the morning wasn’t odd either.It was Sasha’s turn to wake up Ymir since everybody assumed Krista wasn’t there.“Hey, Ymir! You better get up if you don’t want Shadis to have a fit!” Sasha said going to nudge the girl.Ymir woke up with an angry mumble and a sleeping Krista was revealed to Sasha.“What are you two doing in the same bed?” Sasha asked before connecting the dots, “Oh! Never mind!” She scurried down the ladder and out the door.Krista stirred from her sleep with a yawn, “Who was that?” She asked sitting up.“Just Sasha.” Ymir said starting out off the bed, “Time to get up.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Their day continued on as if nothing had happened the night before. Both either too embarrassed by what had happened or unsure of how to handle the subject. That tension would soon have to be dissolved though as Shadis put Krista and Ymir on kitchen duty together.The first few minutes were spent in awkward silence as they prepared the meal for their fellow trainees. Krista was having trouble reaching a pot that hung above her head. Ymir soon noticed her struggle and walked over to grab the pot for her."Thank you!" Krista said smiling softly at Ymir.Ymir was silent for a few moments before she walked up behind Krista and stood a little too close."So about last night," Ymir started."What about it? You had a nightmare." Krista spoke as she poured water into the pot."Do you forget what happened next or am I really that shitty of a kisser?" Ymir teased with a small smirk.Ymir wrapped her arms carefully around Krista's waist. Even if it was quite a stretch considering how much shorter Krista was."I didn't forget," Krista said reaching for the basket of fresh vegetables near the stove.Ymir gently grabbed her wrist as she did, "Then why haven't we talked about it. Or done it again?" She teased.Krista rolled her eyes and gently shoved Ymir away, "Because I know you were worried about it Shadis catching us last night. Imagine what would happen if he caught us now." She smirked lightly.Ymir chuckled, "Well we could always start and see what happens."Krista laughed sweetly and shook her head, "Oh Ymir." She sighed almost dreamily, "If you aren't going to help me go sit in the corner."Ymir pulled a stool over to a table in the center of the kitchen and began to peel potatoes, "You're no fun."The two finished cooking soon after. It would be an overstatement to say they enjoyed their dinner, but at least they got something to eat.In the minutes they had before lights out all the girls talked and laughed with each other while Ymir lay on Krista's bed. "Man, my neck is sore," Ymir complained. "I think that ODM training today gave me whiplash." She laughed.Krista looked up from the book she was reading to smile at Ymir, "Have you tried cold compresses? Sasha says that helps sometimes."Ymir shook her head, "Nah, I'll deal with it. Like a real soldier." Ymir propped herself up on her elbows, "What are you reading?""It's a book Armin let me borrow. Its about the world outside the walls." Krista said as she flipped the page."Really?" Ymir looked over trying to look at the book."Mhm, apparently there are these things called mountains... They're like really big hills and they're covered in cold water called snow!" Krista told Ymir with a smile. "They sound beautiful." She showed Ymir the sketch in the book."Nice... Hey, how about we sneak off to see a mountain next training mission outside the walls." Ymir teased with a smile leaning close to Krista's face."Sure," Krista giggled playing along, "Just you and me. Yeah?""Yeah, and we could-" Ymir started only to be interrupted."Lights out maggots!" Shadis shouted before slamming the door.The girls mumbled and climbed into their beds and blew out their lanterns and candles until only a few dimly lit the room.Ymir sighed softly, "Well, good night Krista. I hope you have dreams sweeter than you are."Krista smiled and shook her head, "Good night Ymir."Ymir got up and started to climb the ladder to her bed. After a few minutes Ymir was in the sweet place between consciousness and sleep when the creak of the ladder snapped her out of it.Krista, looking unusually shaken up, stood on the ladder."What are you doing up here?" Ymir smiled softly, "I didn't have a nightmare.""I know... I did." Krista said softly."Okay." Ymir said pulling the blanket back, "Then come here."Krista crawled into the open space and Ymir wrapped her arms around the girl in a comforting embrace. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The first night went the same as the last. Both girls had one of the most peaceful nights of their lives. The next morning also went the same way. Nobody bothered Ymir until absolutely necessary. This time around though Mina was given the task of waking up Ymir. “Hey, Ymir it’s-” Mina climbed up the ladder and looked upon Ymir and Krista tangled in each other’s arms. At this point all the trainees knew about Ymir and Krista’s new habit of sleeping together, and had made bets on whether or not it would happen again. Mina was one of the lucky ones that bet on it happening a second time. Mina smiled and called back to her friends, “Sasha! It happened again! You owe me half of your breakfast!” “Oh damn it!” Sasha whined as she and the rest of the girls headed to the mess hall. “Ymir, Krista, you guys better get ready before breakfast is over.” Mina told the girls waiting a moment before she saw Ymir sit up. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” Ymir groaned and stretched, “Now leave already.” Mina climbed back down the ladder and dashed out of the dorm. Ymir looked down at Krista and nudged her lightly. Krista woke up with a small yawn and sat up using Ymir to stabilize herself. “It’s morning already?” Krista mumbled looking slightly up at Ymir. Ymir laughed and leaned into Krista, “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you complain.” “Well I was very comfortable.” Krista teased smiling softly at Ymir. “Really?” Ymir kissed Krista’s cheek, “Usually you’re the first one up and out the door. Am I a bad influence on you or something?” Krista giggled and pushed Ymir away, “Let’s just get going. We can do this later.” “Is that a promise?” Ymir asked playfully. “Yes.” Krista answered sweetly as she climbed down the ladder. Krista opened the chest at the foot of the bunk bed and pulled out some fresh clothes. Ymir was soon beside her digging through the chest for a change of clothes as well. Ymir stripped off the shirt she slept in right in the room much to Krista’s surprise. Krista couldn’t help but stare at Ymir’s toned muscles and freckles she never knew spread past her cheeks, and her shoulders, and her chest, and her hips. Ymir smirked when she noticed Krista’s gaze and paused putting on her new shirt, “Problem?” “N-No…” Krista said as a bright blush spread across her cheeks. Krista then went to changing her own clothes. She lay her clothes out on the bed and began to unbutton her shirt. Ymir pulled her shirt over her head and watched Krista out of the corner of her eye. A small blush grew on Ymir's face as she watched Krista's petite form. Even in the most simple of tasks she looked elegant. Ymir slowly made her way over to Krista and put her hands gently on her shoulders from behind. “I don’t know if I’ve told you this before, but you are super cute.” Ymir said quietly. Krista smirked and looked up at her, “Problem?” She said slightly mocking Ymir’s tone from before. “Yeah,” Ymir said wrapping her arms around Krista’s shoulders, “We aren’t back in bed.” Ymir kissed Krista’s neck softly and pressed against her. Krista gasped lightly and leaned back into Ymir. The taller girl continued a trail of kisses down Krista’s shoulder until Krista wiggled away. “W-We should get going,” Krista said grabbing her clean shirt off the bed and covering her body with it. “We can skip breakfast.” Ymir said with a shrug taking a step towards Krista. Even though she wanted to have some ‘alone time’ with Krista she didn’t want to cross any boundaries. As tough and as lewd as she acted around Krista and the other she did respect Krista’s wishes. “You know we can’t. Shadis would put us on cleaning duty.” Krista pointed out pulling her shirt on over her shoulders and then buttoning it up quickly. Ymir grabbed Krista by the excess fabric of her shirt and pulled her forward gently while looking for a sign Krista was uncomfortable. There wasn’t one. Ymir kissed her lips softly. “You can have some of my breakfast.” Ymir told her keeping the close distance between them. “Thank you…” Krista said resting her head on Ymir’s shoulder. There were a few moments of silence before the two headed to the mess hall. Before they entered it was nearly silent, but as Krista and Ymir passed the tables roars of whispers rose from each one until the two reached their usual table in the back. “Oi! Ymir!” Jean said as the two sat down, “You’re later than usual this morning, and so are you Krista.” “Don’t start anything Jean…” Marco said with a disappointed sigh. “I’m not starting anything,” Jean smiled, “I’m just curious as to why Ymir is so late.” “That’s really none of your business Jean.” Ymir said grabbing a bread roll from the center of her table. “But your being late impacts all of us. If you’re not here the rest of us get the crap assignments only you and Krista will do together.” Jean made his way to the table and sat by Ymir, “I mean you’re the only one that really enjoys cleaning the shitter aren’t you?” “Hey, Marco,” Ymir started seemingly ignoring Jean, “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to bring your horse to breakfast? I think you should take him back to the stable to be with his real friends.” “You’re such a bitch.” Jean’s smile never fell as he spoke. He soon got up and made his way back to his own table. Ymir continued to eat in silence while under the table Krista reached out to hold her hand. Ymir gripped Krista’s hand softly and pushed her almost full plate towards Krista. “Don’t let him bother you.” Krista said quietly. Ymir shrugged, “I wasn’t.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After breakfast the cadets stood before Shadis in perfect organized lines. “Jean Kirstein!” Shadis called from the front of the group, “Step forward!” Jean broke away from his line and stood before Shadis saluting him in perfect form. “I heard you made a little comment this morning about one of your fellow soldiers,” Shadis began pacing in front of the boy with his hands behind his back, “About cleaning the shitter, if my wording is correct, and I figured if you’re that jealous of her you can clean the bathrooms for the next week!” Jean was silent for a few moments as he glanced over to Ymir who was as stone faced as ever, “Yes sir!” He responded. “Good, now get your ass back in line!” Shadis yelled and continued to pace. Jean hurried back to his place in line with a grimace on his face. “Now that Kirstein has gotten his assignment, I'll get to telling everybody else thiers! Cadets Jaeger, Arlert and Springer, patrol! Braus, Ackerman, and Leonheart, kitchen clean up! Carolina and Wagner, clean and inspect the ODM gear! Bodt, Braun, and Fubar, supply wagons are coming in today, unload them! Lentz and Ymir, clean the showers!” Shadis continued to call out names and jobs until everyone was assigned a job, “I expect all jobs to be finished by noon! Then after lunch we’ll move on to ODM training, and close combat training!” Shadis stopped pacing and stood in front of the cadets, “Dismissed!” The cadets scattered off to gather supplies for their jobs. Ymir and Krista went to one of the supply sheds to grab buckets and rags. They made their way to the showers. Krista turned on one of the showerheads and filled her bucket with water. Ymir stood there and watched her with a small smile. Ymir looked around to make sure they were alone and gently bumped Krista’s side. Water splashed on the front of Krista’s shirt. “Ymir!” Krista couldn’t help but giggle. “What?” Ymir said innocently going to hold her bucket under the water. Krista shook her head and grabbed one of the rags to begin cleaning the walls. Ymir turned off the shower head and made her way next to Krista. Ymir purposely bumped into Krista every chance she got. “Would you stop it?” Krista giggled shoving Ymir lightly. “Stop what?” Ymir smirked down at Krista, “I’m not doing anything.” Krista rolled her eyes, but still smiled. This was possibly the most relaxed she had ever been while training. Somehow Ymir’s sarcasm and teasing always relieved some tension. Meanwhile Ymir was the most content she had ever been. She actually had the chance to be with someone no matter how screwed they might be after graduating from training. Ymir leaned over after a moment of thought and kissed Krista’s cheek, “You make me happy…” Ymir said quietly. Krista looked up at Ymir blushing lightly, “You make me happy too…” The two gazed at each other for a few more moments before Ymir dropped her bucket and rags to the floor. She grabbed Krista gently by her hips and bent down to kiss her. Krista soon after dropped her bucket and threw her arms around Ymir’s neck and leaned into the kiss. The two nearly ended up on the floor as they slipped on the now wet floor. Their kiss broke and the two laughed still embracing each other. “Thank you…” Krista finally said pressing her forehead against Ymir’s. “I don’t think anyone has ever made me feel as good about myself as you do…” “No, thank you…” Ymir sighed quietly, “I think this is the first time anyone had ever truly loved me…” Ymir blushed and pulled away, “Sorry for assuming that you-” Krista tugged Ymir back down by her shirt and gave her a quick kiss, “Don’t be sorry, because I do…” Ymir put her hands on Krista’s hips and pushed her against the wall of the shower gently. Ymir leaned down holding Krista softly in place as she kissed her neck. Krista smiled and put her hand behind Ymir’s head. “Krista? Ymir?” Came Annie’s voice as she entered the shower. She rounded the corner to the stall that Ymir and Krista were in, “We ran out of hot water in the kitchen Mikasa sent me to ask if you two still-...” All three were frozen in place for a few moments before Annie spoke up, “Bertholdt owes me his extra blanket.” Annie turned around and left the showers. “W-We should get back to work.” Krista said as she wiggled away from Ymir. “Yeah…” Ymir was disappointed to say the least. The two finished their job in an awkward silence, and returned the supplies to the shed. Ymir looked to the sky and estimated the time with a small shrug. “We have an hour to kill before lunch.” Ymir said leaning against the doorway of the shed, “Anything you wanna do?” Krista stood beside Ymir and shook her head, “You and I both know there isn’t anything to do around here.” “Back to the bunks then?” Ymir asked glancing down. Krista nodded, “I think Sasha said she had a deck of cards hidden under her mattress if we want to play.” “Ah, that sounds boring.” Ymir said smiling softly, “You could tell me more about that book Armin let you borrow.” Krista smiled and looked around briefly before taking Ymir’s hand and walking with her to the bunks. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- During lunch there were more whispers about Ymir and Krista, which they ignored. After being caught by Annie they were sure tons of rumors were flying around about them, but at least they knew the truth. Jean and Reiner were the only ones who actually seemed to have a problem with the relationship. Jean because of his bathroom duties for the next week. Reiner because of his thing for Krista, but both Ymir and Krista couldn’t care less about any of it. Their ODM training was as simple as usual. Going from tree to tree, keeping their balance, and trying not to knock each other out of the air. Once they had all arrived back to the base they prepared for their close combat training. Ymir had chosen to train with Krista for obvious reasons, and as she went to get one of the wooden knives she heard a conversation between Shadis and a superior officer. “They’re coming along nicely,” Shadis said, “Ackerman is the first in the class. Followed by Braun, Fubar, Leonheart, Jaeger, Kirstein, Bodt, Springer, Braus, and Ymir. Lentz is close behind them though. If Ymir starts slacking she might just have the tenth spot.” The superior officer nodded, “And do you think that will happen?” Shadis shook his head, “At her core Ymir may be lazy, but even when she’s not trying she does spectacularly.” Ymir stood there frozen in her spot until she felt they noticed her. She walked back to Krista and looked up to a small platform a few feet above the training ring. Shadis and the superior officer now stood there holding notebooks. It was often rumored that close combat training didn’t matter, but Ymir was willing to risk that it did in order to help Krista take her place in the top ten. “You go first,” Ymir smiled softly and handed Krista the fake knife. Krista nodded and took the knife. The two got into position and Krista lunged at Ymir, and Ymir dodged. Krista stumbled forward, but turned quickly and went to sweep Ymir’s leg. Ymir could have easily dodged, but let Krista make contact. Ymir fell to the ground on her back. Krista looked down at Ymir surprised, and after a few seconds offered her hand to help her up. “This isn’t quite how imagined you getting me on my back,” Ymir smiled and chuckled taking Krista’s hand and pulling herself up. Krista handed Ymir the knife, “Haha, very funny Ymir. Now come on.” The two got into position again. Ymir attacking this time. Ymir lunged at Krista, and when she notice Krista’s mistake in her doge she adjusted her position quickly to miss. The rest of their training continued to go this way with Ymir intentionally messing up in order to make Krista look better. After their training the cadets made their way to the mess hall for dinner, and what had happened at the last two meals happened at the third. Whispers rose as Ymir and Krista sat by themselves, and a little more open too. They smiled at each other and teased, even touched as they ate. The same as they headed to the bunks. The girls changed and as usual Ymir sat down on Krista’s bed. “How does your back feel?” Krista asked as she sat down beside Ymir, “You hit the ground pretty hard today.” Ymir shrugged, “It’s fine. I promise. How about you? Your leg hit that tree kinda hard.” “Oh it’s fine, just a small bruise.” Krista said and lifted her skirt so Ymir could see the fist sized bruise forming on her outer thigh, “See not that bad.” “I don’t know.” Ymir said looking at the bruise, “Maybe I should kiss it and make it better.” She teased. Krista dropped her skirt and shook her head, “Maybe later.” “Is that a bonus to your promise this morning?” Ymir leaned against her gently. Krista nodded and smiled at Ymir, “Of course it is.” After a few more moments Ymir lay down with her head on Krista’s lap. Everyone knew so what was the point of trying to hide their affection. “Book,” Ymir said simply closing her eyes and relaxing. Krista nodded and grabbed the book off of the chest and opened it to the page she left off on. Krista then began to read out loud to Ymir. The other girls in the room stared and whispered. Most found it cute, others couldn’t see how Krista could fall for someone like Ymir, and the rest just ignored it. Soon, Shadis entered the bunk to signal lights out and he chose to ignore Ymir and Krista’s newfound relationship. The dorm was dimly lit, and Ymir stayed in her place with her head on Krista’s lap. “Aren’t you going up to your bed?” Krista asked placing the book off to the side. “You and I both know this is how tonight is going to end. I might as well stay here.” Ymir shrugged reaching over to grab Krista’s hand. “Can I at least lay down?” Krista smiled trying to shift. “But I’m so comfortable.” Ymir whined and turned to wrap her arms around Krista’s waist. “Ymir, I’ll take my promise back.” Krista threatened teasingly. Ymir gasped and looked up, “You wouldn’t.” Krista nodded, “I would.” “Would you two just go to sleep already?!” Annie called from the next bunk over. “Sasha, you owe me that deck of cards.” Mikasa said, and in the dim light her hand was seen reaching up. “Oh, damn it!” Sasha whined. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Another night had passed and Sasha had lost more bets. At breakfast Sasha approached the girls with an almost disappointed look on her fast as she sat next to Krista. “Good morning Sasha!” Krista greeted with a small smile. “Good morning Krista, Ymir.” Sasha returned the smile briefly, “You know, I’m real sorry for making bets on you guys these last couple of days.” “Is it because you keep losing?” Ymir asked with a smirk. “No! I mean well, yeah…” Sasha admitted with a sigh. “You lost your entire breakfast to Connie didn’t you?” Ymir asked. “Yeah,” Sasha nodded somberly. “Here,” Ymir offered her the bread from her plate, “And if you wanna stop losing, bet that we are going to do something.” Sasha looked between Ymir and the bread for a moment, “Thank you!” She grabbed it before Ymir changed her mind. “Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. Now scram.” Ymir waved her hand. Sasha quickly got up and bounded back to her table to sit by Connie. Armin was the next one to approach the table taking a seat with a polite smile. “Good morning!” Armin said to both of the girls. “Mornin’” Ymir greeted. “Sorry to bother you two but, Krista are you almost done with that book I leant you?” Armin asked maintaining his smile. Krista shook her head apologetically, “No, I’m sorry Armin, I had to start it over. Ymir and I are reading it together now.” Armin nodded, “Alright then. You keep it for as long as you need to.” He respectfully got up from the table, “I hope you two have a good day,” He paused and turned to his table, “Eren! You have to make my bed for a week!” An annoyed groan could be heard from a couple tables over. Soon everyone finished their breakfast and left the mess hall. They got into their positions and waited for Shadis to appear. Shadis did his usual routine, terrorize a couple cadets, pace, and assign jobs, “Ymir, Lentz, Leonheart, patrol!” He continued to rattle off names and assignments until he got through all the names. He then dismissed the troops and they headed off to get their supplies. Ymir, Krista and Annie headed off to the armory and each grabbed a rifle before heading up the steps that lead to the platforms that surrounded the base. The three stood on a covered platform and Ymir leaned slightly on the railing. “I’ve never seen the point of these patrols,” Annie said with a small sigh as she sling the rifle over her shoulder. “Well, you never know Annie,” Ymir began, “There could always be some, angry, ravenous beast around!” On the word ‘beast’ Ymir had grabbed Krista by the waist and lifted her into the air. This caused Krista to drop her gun and giggle trying to free herself from Ymir’s grip. “Ymir! Stop it!” Krista squealed hitting Ymir on the chest lightly, “Put me down right now!” “Nope!” Ymir said clutching her tighter, “I’ve gotta protect you from all those wild animals!” “If I give you a kiss will you put me down?” Krista smirked. “Maybe, if it’s a good kiss.” Ymir shrugged lowering Krista slightly. The two locked lips and eventually Krista slipped out of Ymir’s arms and was back on the ground, but the two never broke contact. Ymir was about to slip her hand down the waist of Krista’s pants when Annie cleared her throat. “Oh, s-sorry Annie,” Krista broke the kiss first her face completely red. She gently pushed Ymir away. “You could have walked away,” Ymir glared slightly at Annie. “We have to figure out the patrol.” Annie said picking up Krista’s gun and handing it to her. “Thank you.” Krista said meekly. “Us here, you somewhere else.” Ymir shrugged grabbing Krista gently by the waist. “So you two can do it when you’re supposed to be watching for threats. No way. I’m not losing that bet,” Annie shook her head and pointed to the other covered platform, “You and Krista need some time apart before I throw up.” Ymir scoffed, “Whatever,” She leaned over and kissed Krista’s forehead, “I’ll see you later.” Krista leaned into Ymir slightly, “See you…” Ymir made her way to the other side of the base at a casual pace. Meanwhile, Krista put the strap of the rifle over her shoulder. Annie leaned on the railing to look out past the gates of the base and Krista stood beside her. “I really am sorry about that. Sometimes she just doesn’t realize other people don’t want to see what goes on between-” “She’s giving up her spot for you.” Annie began interrupting Krista, “She’s in the top ten and you’re right behind her. She’s giving you her spot.” “What?” Krista said not quite comprehending. “Yesterday Shadis met with one of the superior officers of the Military Police. She listened in, I was there too. She didn’t notice me. Ymir has the tenth spot in the top ten and you’re right behind her. They said if Ymir starts to slack she would lose her spot and you would move into her spot.” Annie explained, “Didn’t you notice how she was acting in close combat training yesterday. She could have easily taken you down every time, but she didn’t.” Krista was quiet as she processed the information, “I thought that was just because she didn’t want to hurt me… Because of everything that’s going on… Why does she want me to be in the top ten?” Annie shrugged, “I assume that she’ll try to convince you to join the Military Police so you can live in the interior, and be safe. I think she plans on joining the Scouting Regiment.” “Then I’m joining with her.” Krista said her voice suddenly becoming harsh, “Top ten or not. I go where she goes…” On the other side of the perimeter Ymir stared off into the forest. It would be so easy… She thought to herself. If we ran away we could be happy... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The next day Ymir and Krista were placed on cleaning duty. As they neared the end of their cleaning they exited the boy’s bunks and went to the girls’, the last place they had left to clean. Ymir started to sweep the floor as Krista washed the windows, with slight difficulty. Ymir stopped sweeping and smiled as she watched Krista try to reach the tops of the windows, “You want some help there?” Krista looked back and nodded, “Yes please.” Ymir leaned the broom against the wall and lifted Krista up by her hips so she could reach. “This isn’t quite what I had in mind,” Krista giggled, but continued to clean. Ymir waited until she was finished and set her back down, “Those are some great looking windows.” She teased the girl. Krista rolled her eyes, but still smiled up at Ymir, “We should get all this stuff back to the shed.” “You know… We’ve still got a good hour…” Ymir said as she looked out the window, “We could wait a little… We are alone in the entire bunk.” “Okay,” Krista said putting her bucket and rags off to the side. She walked over to her bed and waited for Ymir. Ymir was slightly shocked at Krista’s answer because she never expected her to go along with the idea. Ymir made her way to the bed and put her arms gently around Krista’s waist pulling her close. The two began to kiss slowly, but passionately. Eventually, Ymir slowly pushed Krista down on her back softly. “W-Wait, Ymir…” Krista said gently pushing her away, “I-I’ve never…” “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” Ymir assured putting a few more inches of distance between them. “No! I want to, but I’ve never had… You know…” Krista blushed and looked away. “What,” Ymir chuckled lightly, “Had sex?” Krista nodded slowly. “Hey,” Ymir grabbed Krista’s chin gently and turned her face to look at her, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go slow, I’ll be gentle, and if you don’t like it I’ll stop. Sound good?” Krista looked up at Ymir and then nodded again, “Sounds good.” “Alright. Promise you’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” Ymir leaned down a little more and kissed her cheek. Krista smiled softly, “I promise.” Ymir smiled back and began to trail kisses down Krista’s neck, “I’m gonna take off your shirt, okay?” She didn’t want to do anything unexpected. “Okay.” Krista’s blush spread. Ymir started to unbutton Krista’s shirt slowly and then took off her own. Ymir then began to kiss her collarbones, then between her cleavage and down her stomach. Ymir reached her hand to the button of Krista’s pants and looked up for a signal. Krisa looked down and nodded. Ymir smiled sweetly up at her and unbuttoned her pants, slowly tugging them off. Ymir lowered herself between Krista’s legs and again waited for a signal as she placed her hand softly on the waistband of Krista’s panties. Krista let out a shaky breath, “Yes.” She said quietly, but confidently. Ymir nodded and softly kissed the inside of Krista’s thighs as she pulled down the underwear. Krista slowly reached down and put her hand gently behind Ymir’s head urging her downward. Ymir laughed lightly, and as she was getting ready to really start the doors to the girl’s bunk door burst open. Before the two girls stood all of their fellow female recruits. A few laughed, a few walked away, but only Sasha cheered. “Ha! You owe me your dinner Mina! You owe me my deck of cards Mikasa, and Annie, you owe me that extra blanket!” Sasha grinned proudly at the girls. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The news had spread quickly after Ymir and Krista were caught. That night at dinner Ymir set up a figurative protective bubble around Krista. Krista hadn’t spoken since the incident and refused to leave Ymir’s side. Most of the girls had gotten over it, and were no longer concerned about the situation. The boys, on the other hand. couldn’t stop talking about it. Jean almost approached Ymir, but she looked so menacing at the time. Her arm was around Krista’s shoulders and she scanned the room almost as if she were waiting for someone to say something just so she could beat them half to death for saying anything. Mikasa soon sat down in front of the two with a neutral expression. “What do you want?” Ymir asked bringing Krista slightly closer. “Don’t worry about what happened today.” Mikasa said simply, “No one really cares but them.” She gestured back to the tables of boys, “And I’m sure I could get them to keep their mouths shut. So, don’t worry about it.” Krista glanced up at Mikasa and nodded, “Thank you…” Mikasa gave the girl a small smile, “And we’ve convinced Sasha to give you the extra blanket. That will be waiting for you two back in the bunk.” Ymir gave a small nod, “Thanks.” “No problem, I’ll see you later.” Mikasa got up with a small wave. The two waved back to Mikasa as she walked away. Everyone finished their meal and walked off to their rooms. Everyone except Krista and Ymir. “Hey, come with me.” Ymir whispered to Krista as they trailed at the back of the group. Ymir lead Krista to the platforms above the base and took her to the edge farthest from any buildings. Ymir sat down and pulled Krista into her lap. “I’m sorry about today…” Ymir said resting her head carefully on Krista’s shoulder, “I should have been more careful… You must be so embarrassed. I’m sorry.” Krista put her hand gently on Ymir’s cheek, “Well, yes… I am embarrassed.” Krista admitted, “But you don’t need to be sorry about anything. It’s not your fault at all.” Ymir sighed softly and gave Krista a tight and lingering hug while Krista kissed her forehead lightly. The two sat there holding each other for several minutes. “Hey,” Krista said sweetly, “Look up.” Ymir looked up at the sky. It was clear. It was beautiful. The moon shined it’s light down on the two girls and Ymir swore she could see every star in the sky. Krista smiled as she saw the contentment settle on Ymir’s face. Krista often caught Ymir looking at the night sky, and she thought it was just the cutest thing. After a few moments a small and goofy smile crossed Ymir’s face. “You’re adorable.” Krista said kissing her cheek. Ymir blushed and covered her smile with her hand, “Shut up…” She laughed lightly turning her face slightly away. Krista shook her head, “Oh no. You always tell me about how cute I am .You deserve to know that you’re pretty darn cute too!” Ymir’s blush grew, “I’m still not as cute as you.” “Oh yes you are!” Krista argued. Ymir rolled her eyes and rested her head on Krista’s shoulder again, “I want to give you the whole world,” She spoke almost mindlessly, “You deserve the best life, to be happy, and to be loved.” “Oh, Ymir…” Krista sighed, “You’ve already done so much for me… I couldn’t possibly ask you to do anymore.” “You could ask me to do anything, and I would do it.” Ymir told her and gazed into her eyes, “I… Love you…” Ymir said her voice getting quieter. It was Krista’s turn to blush now, “Ymir… I love you too.” It wasn’t like the two had come to this conclusion over the last couple of days. It was something that had begun developing from the day they met, and at last it was finally able to flourish. “We should get back to the bunks…” Krista said without moving off of Ymir’s lap. “We should…” Ymir agreed, but made no effort to move. Krista only adjusted her position to rest her head on Ymir’s chest. Krista closed her eyes and settled into a comfortable place. She felt so secure with Ymir around, and wished that they could be alone like this forever. But, wishes rarely come true. So, for now, this was enough. Soon Krista fell asleep in Ymir’s arms. Ymir carefully lifted Krista into her arms and carried her bridal style back to the bunks. Almost everyone was asleep seeing as Shadis had announced lights out two hours ago. The other girls had covered for Ymir and Krista and they were able to slip in easily. Ymir set Krista down in her bed and crawled in beside her. “Sweet dreams, beautiful…” Ymir muttered and kissed Krista’s cheek. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The next day before dinner all the girls headed to the showers like usual. Ymir decided to show up later with a towel draped around her shoulders. Most of the other girls had finished up and leaving with the exception of one or two others. Including Krista. Ymir noticed the girl as she walked in and set her stuff off to the side and walked into the same stall as Krista. “Hey,” Ymir said casually as she slipped her arms around the girl. “Hey,” Krista smiled and leaned slightly into the girl. They had all seen each other naked in the showers before so it wasn’t like it was that big of a deal to anyone. “Could you two at least wait until I leave to start?” Annie asked as she dried her hair with her towel. The two snapped out of their slight daze and looked over at Annie. Ymir grinned, “Sure, if you plan on leaving in five seconds.” Annie rolled her eyes and made her way out the door. As cute as Krista and Ymir were together, Ymir still got on Annie’s nerves. “Anyway,” Ymir said leaning down, “Where were we?” “I was showering,” Krista looked up at Ymir with a small smile, “You should too. You smell like dirt.” “Hey, so do you!” Ymir teased grabbing her by the hips gently, “Come on. We know that nobody else is gonna walk in on us now.” Ymir tempted pushing Krista’s hair away from her neck. Ymir kissed Krista’s neck and roughly sucked on the area resulting in a mark. Krista gasped lightly when Ymir pulled away and placed her hand on the mark. “Ymir!” Krista said as she began to blush furiously, “Everyone is going to see that!” “So what?” Ymir moved her hand slowly down Krista’s side, “Tell you what. You can do the same to me.” She offered as her hand moved to grip the inside of Krista’s thigh. “Ymir,” Krista muttered almost allowing Ymir to separate her legs, “Not here.” She said gently removing Ymir’s hand from her thigh. Ymir sighed and kissed Krista’s cheek, “Sometimes you can be such a buzzkill.” She teased, but still distanced herself slightly. Ymir wouldn’t force herself on Krista, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tease the girl, “Need any help reaching those hard to get to spots?” Ymir asked with a grin. Krista giggled and shook her head, “I think I’m good for now.” “Alright. Your loss.” Ymir shrugged and nudged Krista out of the stream of water to get herself clean. “Hey!” Krista tried to move Ymir without any success. “Oh, come on cry baby,” Ymir grabbed her by the shoulders and put Krista in front of her so they were both in the water, “Does that please her highness?” Krista nodded and began to rinse her hair out. Just because she didn’t want to have sex now didn’t mean she couldn’t do any of her own teasing. As the two continued to shower Krista made sure that her body constantly pressed against Ymir’s. After a few minutes, “Would you cut that out?” Ymir said with a light laugh. Krista looked back to see Ymir’s face bright red, “Aw, is my Ymir embarrassed?” “Uh, no,” Ymir responded, “Ymir wants to press you against that wall and make you scream.” Krista stared in silence for a moment. She knew she should have expected that from Ymir, but nonetheless her own blush spread. Ymir smiled, “And you want me to, don’t you?” Ymir got close to Krista’s face and whispered. Krista considered the statement for a moment and then nodded. Ymir put her hands on Krista’s shoulders and pushed her against the wall as the two began to kiss roughly. Krista moaned into Ymir’s mouth and Ymir leaned more into her. Eventually, Ymir’s hands made their way between Krista’s legs. As Ymir got ready to work her magic Sasha called from the other side of the shower. “Sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” Sasha began with her back turned to the girls, “But it's almost time for dinner.” Ymir groaned, “Alright, thanks Sasha.” “No problem!” Sasha bounded out of the showers. “Come on… Let’s get going…” Ymir said once again disappointed. Krista grabbed her arm gently and looked her in the eyes, “We’re skipping dinner.” Krista said demandingly. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After getting changed and sneaking past the mess hall Ymir and Krista made it back to the bunks. Krist a shut the door behind them and gently pressed Ymir’s back to the wall. Krista smiled and unbuttoned Ymir’s pants. “What are you up to?” Ymir asked putting her hands on Krista’s waist “Just go with it.” Krista smiled and pushed herself against Ymir initiating a slow and passionate kiss. Ymir nodded slowly and she blushed lightly. This was the first time Krista had ever been so forward with her. It was new, it was confusing it was… A turn on. Ymir slid her hands under Krista’s shirt and softly trailed her hands up her stomach and rested them there. “Take off my shirt.” Krista mumbled into the kiss, “Take it off.” She said a little more demanding. Ymir hesitated before taking hold of Krista’s shirt and literally ripping it off the girl’s body bursting some of the buttons. Krista took Ymir’s hand and lead her to her bed. Krista pushed her down softly and kissed her again, “Now lay down.” Ymir nodded and gazed into Krista’s eyes as she eased herself down. Ymir then took off her own shirt as Krista placed herself in a sitting position on Ymir’s hips. “Thank you.” Krista giggled. Ymir reached forward to unbutton Krista’s pants only to have her hands held down at her sides. “Not yet.” Krista told her with a seductive grin. Ymir lowered her hands and nodded, “I-I… Okay…” Krista laughed, “You know you’re really cute from this angle.” Krista teased as she began to grind against Ymir. Ymir’s blush grew and she covered her mouth with her hand. This was an entirely new side of Krista that Ymir had never experienced before and she liked it. Krista grabbed Ymir’s hands and led them to her hips. Ymir gripped tightly and groaned lightly. Krista couldn’t help but smile at the effect she had on Ymir. Krista gazed at Ymir as she unbuttoned her own pants and without hesitation Ymir slipped her hand into Krista’s panties. Krista gasped as Ymir’s thumb gently massaged her clit. Ymir smiled as before her eyes Krista turned bright red and the confidence she entered the room with diminished as she got wetter and wetter. Eventually, Krista lay down on top of Ymir with her face buried in her chest. “Ah, Ymir…” Krista gave a muffled moan and gripped to Ymir’s arms tightly. Krista kicked her pants the rest of the way off and worked herself against Ymir’s hand as Ymir began to start going further. Ymir slowly pressed a finger into Krista and began to gently thrust back and forth adding a second finger after a few motions. This caused Krista to let out a small yelp of pleasure. After a few moments Krista began to sync the thrusting of her hips with the movement of Ymir’s fingers. “O-Oh fuck, oh fuck…” Krista muttered as the movement of her hips became more insistent, “More… Ymir…” Ymir laughed and pressed a third finger into Krista causing her to let out a joyful scream. Krista grabbed Ymir’s face and gave her a sloppy kiss as they continued. Ymir’s thrusts became deeper and harder as she pushed Krista closer to the edge. Krista never expected sex to feel so thrilling and even though Ymir’s movements were rough (though not at rough as they could be) Krista never doubted for a second that Ymir was totally focused on her pleasure. “Ymir, I-I think I-I’m c-coming!” Krista said after a few moments and gasped. Krista put her hand over her mouth as her body began to quiver and she felt an extreme release of stress and an immense amount of pleasure. After a few moments of heavy breathing Krista fell down next to Ymir cuddling into her side. “That was fast.” Ymir teased putting her arms around Krista. “It was my first time…” Krista muttered hiding her face. “I know, I know cutie.” Ymir kissed her cheek, “You’re just so damn adorable when you’re trying to take charge.” “Shut up.” Krista laughed, “We should skip dinner tomorrow too…” “It’s a date.” Ymir pulled the blanket over Krista. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After dinner most of the other girls had figured out what had happened as they entered the bunks. It was unusual for Krista to be asleep before lights out, and the fact that both Ymir and Krista’s clothes were scattered around the bed. None of them really cared anymore though. It’s not like what they were doing really impacted them anyway. Well, at least not at this point. Another night had passed and the morning came once again. Mikasa made her way over to where the girls were still asleep, “Krista. It’s morning.” Krista slowly opened her eyes and sat up gathering the blanket around her body, “Oh, thank you Mikasa…” Mikasa smiled softly at her and nodded, “Take your time. We’ll cover you until breakfast is over.” With that Mikasa made her way out of the bunks. Krista gently nudged Ymir, “Hey, time to get up.” Ymir only groaned and shifted her position. Krista sighed and smiled softly. She eased herself down practically on top of Ymir. She brushed their bodies together and she could hear Ymir’s breath catch as she did. “Ymir,” Krista whispered, “Get up.” She buried her face in Ymir’s neck and began to kiss the girl’s neck softly. Almost instantly, Ymir’s arms were wrapped around Krista holding her in place. Krista giggled and let her body fall completely on top of Ymir. “Good morning.” Krista lifted her head and smiled sweetly. Ymir looked up and smiled back. A halo of light surrounded Krista and as Ymir looked at her a light blush crossed her face. She could hardly believe that this was happening to her, and she almost felt calm. Ymir gathered herself and smiled back, “Good morning, gorgeous.” Krista shook her head lightly, “Stop it…” She got out of the bed. Ymir sat up and pulled her back down into her lap, “No,” She grinned and turned Krista’s face gently to kiss her softly, “You are gorgeous. Someone should tell you that everyday.” “And you’re going to do that?” Krista laughed softly and placed her hands on Ymir’s shoulders. Ymir nodded, “If I have to.” The two sat in silence for a few moments savoring their brief moments alone before Krista got up from Ymir’s lap. Ymir frowned slightly, but stood up anyway. Krista grabbed a fresh pair of clothes for the both of them. Ymir took her clothes and slipped the shirt on. “Need any help there?” Ymir teased Krista grabbing her by the loose fabric of her unbuttoned shirt. Krista laughed and shook her head, “Come on Ymir. It’s almost time to go out for roll call.” “We have a few minutes…” Ymir shrugged and kissed Krista as her hands fumbled with the buttons on her shirt to button it up. After a few more minutes of joking around Ymir and Krista had made it out and into their lines before Shadis appeared in front of the cadets. “Today will be dedicated to a survival training mission!” Shadis announced, “You will be assigned to groups of three and you will camp two miles outside of the base! You’re all going to be sent off in separate directions to avoid you all assisting each other! You will have until noon to prepare!” Shadis explained, “Braun, Fubar, Springer, group one! Ackerman, Jaeger, Arlert, group two! Lentz, Ymir, Leonheart, group three!” Shadis continued until all the cadets were separated into groups of three. The cadets were dismissed and broke off into their groups. “What should we get first?” Krista asked as she stood my Ymir and Annie. “Tents, guns,” Ymir began. “Food, knives, sleeping bags,” Annie continued. “We should probably get matches too.” Krista nodded and led the girls off to one of the supply sheds. Once they reached the supply shed Annie grabbed two tents and tossed one to Ymir, “You and Krista are probably gonna share a tent right?” Ymir nodded and put the tent on her back as she reached up to grab three sleeping bags. “Really, one for all of you,” Jean said as he entered with Marco, “I thought for sure you would all be sharing one. Ymir, loves sharing don’t you.” “Jean, really?” Marco sighed and shook his head gathering what they needed. “Well, everybody knows Krista and Ymir just can’t keep their hands off of each other. It’s only natural to assume that they would take this opportunity to-” Jean started before being interrupted. “Keep your big mouth shut Jean.” Annie spoke up with a small glare, “You act like they’re fucking right in front of everyone. Just because you’re not getting any doesn’t mean you have to torment them for being happy.” Jean scoffed, “What are you defending them for? Are you a part of their little relationship?” “No, I just have respect for others.” Annie said back as she grabbed three knapsacks. With that Jean rolled his eyes and went to grab his own supplies. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Once noon came the trainees gathered at the gates with their knapsacks full of supplies and in their groups waiting for their directions. The superior officers went around handing out maps and pointing out the place where the group should end up. Eventually the three girls were approached by Shadis with a map and a compass. “Lentz, Leonheart, Ymir, we figured since you have two in your group in the top ten we would send you out further than the others.” Shadis explained as he unfurled the map, “You three will head west, five miles out,” He began and the pointed to a place on the map by a small stream, “You will set up camp along this stream. There will be two other groups along the same stream, you will not make contact with them. They have been instructed to do the same. Understood?” “Yes sir!” The three said and saluted. “Good,” Shadis handed the map to Krista along with the compass, “Now get moving.” The three girls exited the base and with Krista in the front they headed west towards the stream. Most of the walk was consumed by silence and watching with Ymir and Krista’s occasional touchy feely habits, which Annie chose to ignore. By the time they reached their campsite there were only two hours left until night. The girls dropped their supplies and sat down to catch their breath. Soon after Annie began to set up her tent. “I’ll go gather wood for a fire,” Ymir volunteered, “Wanna come with me Krista?” “I would love t-” Krista started, only to be interrupted by Annie. “Krista and I will set up a fire pit and will go hunting.” Annie said tossing her knapsack and sleeping bag into her tent, “After you gather fire wood you can get us water.” Ymir rolled her eyes, but got up anyway, “Fine. I’ll be back soon.” She leaned over kissing Krista’s cheek before grabbing one of the guns and walking off. Annie and Krista began to gather stones, a simple task, and set up a small circle on the ground between the tents. They both grabbed their guns and started off in the opposite direction of Ymir. Once they were a good distance away Annie spoke quietly, “You’re in Ymir’s spot in the top ten now.” She said swinging herself up into a tree and motioning for Krista to do the same. Krista pulled herself up, “How do you know?” “I passed by Shadis’ window last night after dinner. The superior officers were there talking about all the trainees. They were concerned about what Ymir’s drop meant, and Shadis told them about what’s going on between you two. This is a test for you. That’s why they sent us out further than everyone else. They want to know if you can handle yourself, because they know Ymir and I can.” Krista’s expression was no longer soft like usual, “I can handle myself.” Annie shrugged and raised her gun looking through the sight and lining up a target, “They don’t think that. Ymir is going to try and make you look good during this mission too.” “And how is she going to do that?” Krista questioned. “I heard her talking to Mikasa. She’s planning on hurting herself on purpose, and since we all have to document everything that happens during this mission. We’ll be forced to write it down, and she knows that you’ll be the one to take care of her.” Krista was silent for a moment, “I won’t let her do that…” She said, “Take the shot.” She told Annie. “What?” “I said, take the shot.” Krista said harshly. Annie fired her gun and a small thud was heard a few yards away from the girls. Krista was the first one out of the tree and she made her way to the location of their kill. She stood over the deer, a decently sized doe. “That should be enough to get us through three days.” Krista said grabbing it’s hind legs, “Get the front.” Annie nodded and grabbed the deer’s front legs. The two carried the deer back to camp where Ymir was laying on her sleeping bag in front of her set up tent. A pile of fire wood sat by the fire pit and on a makeshift rack three canteens hung all filled with water. As well as two gutted and cleaned fish. “Back so soon?” Ymir sat up and looked at the two, “Need any help with that thing?” She asked standing up. “You know how to gut a deer?” Annie asked letting it fall to the ground. Ymir nodded and picked up what Annie had dropped, “Here, help me carry this to the stream.” She told Krista and began to walk. Once they reached the stream Ymir put the deer down and positioned downhill and downstream. Ymir took the knife from her pocket and made a cut down the stomach of the deer. She folded back the skin and cut a few more things away before reaching her hand in. “What are you doing?” Krista asked as she watched looking sick to her stomach. “If I can find it’s esophagus it’ll make the rest of this easier.” Ymir’s hand searched a little more before she grasped the organ and reached her other hand in to cut it free. Ymir then began to remove the rest of the organs placing them off to the side, “We can use these for bait later...” She said as she finished gutting and skinning the deer, and fully clothed walked into the stream to clean herself off. Krista watched her as she did. Ymir’s wet shirt clung to her body and Krista became flustered. The pile of entrails next to her probably should have killed the mood, but Ymir was more of a distraction. Ymir stepped out of the stream and grabbed the deer by the front legs. “Here, let me help.” Krista offered going to grab the hind legs. “It’s alright, I’ve got it now.” Ymir smiled and put the deer over her shoulder. Krista watched and found her focus on Ymir’s arms as her biceps flexed as she carried the deer, “Thank god we’re sleeping in the same tent…” She muttered to herself. The two made their way back to camp and Ymir placed the deer on the makeshift rack, and went back for the entrails, “We can use these for bait,” She explained to Annie “How are we going to store them?” Annie scoffed as she started to make a fire. Ymir smiled and pulled a small cloth bag from her knapsack. She put the entrails inside and placed it next to the rack. She figured as long as they had the fire and someone watching nothing would get at it. Krista sat down on the sleeping bag Ymir had left outside their tent and Ymir soon sat beside her putting her arm around her shoulders. Annie got the fire started up and sat on the ground in front of her tent. She grabbed her knapsack and dug through it for a small cooking kit she brought meant for camping. Annie walked over to the deer and cut off a chunk of meat as well as brought over one of the fish. She placed the pan over the fire and sat back down. “I’ll take the first watch,” Annie said grabbing her gun and loading it. “I’ll take last watch…” Ymir said snuggling into Krista. “I guess I’m stuck with middle watch then.” Krista sighed reaching her hand up to place it on Ymir’s cheek. “Sorry.” Ymir grinned up at her. Krista smiled softly and kissed Ymir for a few seconds, “You’re too cute.” The three sat in silence as their food cooked and ate in silence. Krista was starting to nod off and fell into Ymir’s lap a few times before waking herself back up. “Hey,” Ymir said quietly, “Go to sleep. I’ll be in there soon.” She smiled. Krista nodded and crawled inside the tent wrapping herself up in her sleeping bag. She fell asleep almost instantly. Ymir’s smile fell and she put her face in her hands with a small sigh. She grabbed her canteen and took a drink and then splashed some of the water on her face. “What’s your goal?” Annie asked. “What do you mean?” Ymir scoffed. “With Krista. You’re giving her your spot in the top ten. You’ve established a relationship with her, and nobody knows why.” Annie explained, “So, I want to know what your goal is.” Ymir stared at Annie for a moment and then sighed, “To keep her safe. I want her to join the Military Police and live in the interior. It’s the safest place for her right now.” “You know she won’t do that.” Annie said taking a bite of leftover deer meat. “I know, but I still want her to have the chance to… I’ll join whatever she joins… Garrison, fuck, I’ll help her fix the walls. The Scouts… I won’t let a titan touch her.” Ymir said her voice trailing off slightly. “And your relationship? Even I know that you love her.” Ymir laughed quietly, “I never expected that to happen… It just happened… The first day of training I saw who she was, and I guess… It just happened.” “Wow, great explanation.” Annie rolled her eyes and stood up grabbing her gun, “Go get some sleep.” Ymir watched as Annie walked off and then Glanced inside the tent at Krista who slept peacefully. Ymir loved that part of her sure, but she also loved the part of her that she didn’t yet know about. The girl that the Pastors of The Walls had talked about was not entirely Krista. Ymir didn’t know who that other part of her was yet, but she was ready to love her for everything she was and wasn’t. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- On Annie’s watch things were simply, uneventful, just a few sights of harmless animals and the normal noises of the forest. When the time came she made her way back to the tents and nudged Krista with the butt of her rifle. Krista groaned and snuggled more into Ymir’s chest and Ymir tightened her grip around the girl. “Hey, Krista, wake up.” Annie whispered harshly, “It’s your watch.” Krista mumbled something under her breath and sat up slowly rubbing her eyes. Ymir groaned in her sleep and rolled over into Krista’s spot. Krista smiled slightly made her way out of the tent stretching. “Here,” Annie handed her the rifle, “It’s already loaded, and the best place to watch is near the stream. Then you can see everything.” Annie informed. Krista nodded taking the rifle and putting the strap over her shoulder, “Thank you Annie. Have a nice sleep.” Annie nodded, but rested her hand on Krista’s shoulder before leaving, “She would do anything for you. She wants to keep you safe, but you have to keep her safe too.” Annie then walked off to her tent. Krista stood still for a few moments contemplating over what Annie had said, but she soon shook it off and took her place by the stream keeping a watchful eye over everything. Her watch was about as eventful as Annie’s. She went back to the tent and lay the gun on the ground outside before crawling inside. “Ymir,” Krista said sweetly putting her face next to the sleeping girl’s, “It’s your turn.” She said and then kissed her softly. “Hn?” Ymir woke up and looked around sleepily as she wiped the drool away from her mouth with the back of her hand, “What?” “C’mon. It’s your turn to take watch.” Krista said smiling at her. Ymir sat up and yawned, “Alright.” She said simply and leaned over into Krista wrapping her arms around her in a small hug. Krista returned the hug and kissed Ymir’s cheek softly, “Get going before we get started.” She giggled. Ymir laughed and nodded, “At least the tent is warm for you.” She teased before leaving the tent and grabbing the gun from the ground. Ymir set up near the stream with her canteen and sat down by the edge looking out over the small flow of water with a sigh. In the first few hours of her watch nothing happened. As the sun began to rise she noticed smoke coming from the left of their camp. It was far away, probably one of the other groups she figured. She looked up to the sky and stared at the brilliant oranges and reds spreading across the sky. Krist a would love this… She thought to herself as she stood and made her way to her tent. Ymir pulled back the opening of the tent and smiled as she watched Krista sleep peacefully for a few moments. She put the gun down and crawled inside. “Hey, Krista…” Ymir said quietly and rested her hand gently on the girl’s cheek. Krista’s eyes fluttered open, “What? Is something wrong?” She asked, it was hardly time for Ymir’s watch to be over. Ymir shook her head and placed her hand on Krista’s, “No, I just want to show you something.” Krista nodded and the two left the tent hand in hand until they reached the spot Ymir had set up her watch. She pulled Krista down into her lap and pressed her face into the girl’s back softly. “What did you want to show me?” Krista asked running her thumb gently over Ymir’s knuckles. “The sunrise…” Ymir said quietly lifting her head with a smile. Krista looked to the sky and smiled as she watched the colors flow across the sky. She leaned back into Ymir and kept her gaze fixed on the sky. Ymir on the other hand looked down at Krista with an expression of admiration on her face. “You’re so beautiful…” Ymir told her in a whisper. Almost as if she were afraid anyone else would hear. “And you’re so sweet.” Krista said back snuggling into Ymir’s chest. “I love you…” “I love you too.” The two sat in peaceful perfection for a few more moments. The constant sound of rushing water, the beauty of the sky, it almost felt like they were the only two beings in the universe. And then Annie woke up, “What the hell are you two doing?”
11383665	Marigold	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin (BTS)", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by eventidekm", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-07T00:00:00", "words": "3,237", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Neighbors", "Relationship": "Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Forever Boys", "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 }	Jimin wakes up with a severe headache. It is expected, though. Even though his mind is hazy, he can recall the event of the day before albeit hazily.Yesterday was his sixth month anniversary. Jimin made a reservation at a nice restaurant a week prior. His boyfriend had him did that, in excuse that he was especially busy, and even though they barely even met for the last two months, they agreed to make time at least for one single night.What Jimin didn’t expect was that he was greeted by not only his boyfriend, but accompanying him was a beautiful slender girl in his arms, and a few guys that Jimin knew as his boyfriend’s circle of friends around them. He didn't know them at all because his boyfriend always made a thousand excuses for not introducing him. They looked at him with amused faces, at which Jimin could only return with a confused smile. Before he could mutter a single word, his world instantly crumbled in front of his very eyes.“Ah, here he is,” his boyfriend said, his embrace on the girl’s waist tighten. “I told you six month is too easy,” a sinister smirk formed in his face. “Should’ve been a whole year.” Like on cue, the whole restaurant was filled with laughter. Wicked, sickening laughter.Jimin knew. He knew he was being played. He knew right there and then that all six months that he thought he was happy, was entirely a lie. He should’ve known since the very beginning. Since all the oddities in his relationship that all his friends pointed out. But maybe his needs for affection and attention overpowered his instinct and common sense that screamed danger.He flipped the nearest table, made sure that everything that was on it projected towards his boyfriend’s direction. He then spit out all the curses vocabulary he never thought had, and left. Never looked back even for once.Above everything, Jimin thought he was to blame. Even a small fragment in his mind told him that he deserved it.He came home after made a stop at a convenience store and bought two six-pack of soju. With a defeated sigh, he drank bottle after bottle and slumped his body on the couch. He didn’t remember much after his fifth bottle. Jimin forces his body towards the sink. He looks at his reflection on the mirror and regrets his behavior last night immediately. He really should stop sad-drinking. His eyes are visibly puffy and his face is swollen as hell. He must’ve cried last night, and crying drunk Jimin is a terrible combination. After his mind shut off, he must’ve been loudly cursing, wailing, or even screaming his brains off, but he can’t remember any of those.Now he feels sorry for his neighbors. But maybe, maybe, the cheap building of the campus dorm just happen to has a decent soundproof wall (nope).He glances at the clock and curses under his breath as he knows that it’s already 7:50 AM. He has an Art History class at 8 AM and as if his life can’t be more shittier, this class has a 75% minimum attendance point and he already used up all his ‘skipping days’ in the beginning of the semester (come on, who on earth actually wants to show up at the only class they have on Friday at 8 AM in the morning? Definitely not Jimin). If he’s not attending his class today, he won’t even allowed to take his final test and can only dream of passing. He had failed this class once, he definitely can't fail this again.Jimin took an Advil, splashes cold water on his face in a weak attempt to reduce his swelling and swiftly brushes his teeth. He grabs his bag carelessly, and makes a quick motion to open the front door. A bright yellow color greets him on the doormat.A flower bouquet. Marigold, as Jimin recognizes.Accompanied by a message card with a neat handwriting in a black glaring ink that prominently says, Hope you are all better now. A smile suits you the best. -- Your Neighbor. Jimin feels the stinging back in his eyes. “What the f—“ Jungkook steals a glance at the classroom door every ten seconds. He’s restless in his seat because a certain pink haired classmate hasn’t show up even though the class has already started ten minutes ago. What makes him worried is, he knows that that classmate won’t skip the class on purpose. At least not in this particular class.His mind can’t help but wanders to the image of a pair of beautiful crescent eyes every time the owner’s plush lips curved into the most breathtaking smile, more often than not revealing the slightly crooked teeth that Jungkook adores perhaps too much.Oh, how Jungkook wants to stare at that face for his entire life.But sadly he is just that. A classmate.Jungkook wants to be more than that, though.It’s not like Jungkook didn’t try. He did, and still does, even now.He did since the first day at university. Since he missed the train from Busan and had to take the next train with inconvenient schedule and had to arrive at the dorm at almost midnight. He was being stupid and totally forgot to notify the dorm supervisor that he was arriving late. He hadn’t got his keys yet and he couldn’t contact the supervisor. Jungkook was considering calling his brother and staying at his brother’s florist’s, but after the third attempt calling and got no answer, he assumed that his brother was already asleep and his last option was sleeping in front of the dorm, waiting for the morning to come in the freezing early spring night. Seriously, he could die. Jungkook never thought that his first day he left Busan would also be the day he left the world as well.That was, until someone half-walked half-ran up to him. Under the porch light, Jungkook could see orange hair sticking out from that man’s hoodie, and Jungkook swore his skin was glistening, or rather, glowing (it was sweat, but who fucking sweat in the middle of the night and looked damn good while at it). He yelped with a surprise.“Oh, are you a freshman?” that man asked, eyeing Jungkook’s suitcase.“Um, yeah. I haven’t got my keys yet,““Aww, really? Come inside with me then,” he fished his pocket for the keys, inserted it on he slot and turned it. “I’ll wake up the guard, he isn’t supposed to be sleeping right now anyway. He can lend you the spare key to your room, and you can deal with the dorm supervisor tomorrow,” he continued, proceeding to the small guard room on the left side of the corridor, then shook the guard awake.He explained the situation to him and Jungkook couldn’t be more relieved when the guard agreed to take Jungkook to his room. He lead the way, and they followed him. In the short trip up to the third floor, Jungkook learned the man’s name was Park Jimin, he was a sophomore Dance Department student in the Faculty of Humanity and Arts (same as him, but Jungkook took Fine Arts major) and he lived in the room straight in front of his. He did try even days and months after that. But strangely enough, all his efforts didn’t seem to bear any fruit. All his greetings didn’t turn into real conversations. And as if that hadn’t made Jungkook frustrated enough, they just had to had conflicting schedules. His class mostly took in the morning, meanwhile Jimin’s class started a little while after that. In the afternoon, Jungkook had a part time job at his brother’s florist’s (or rather, forced by his brother), and Jimin didn’t start his dance practice until the evening and usually lasts up to nearing midnight (no, Jungkook didn’t asked around to get Jimin’s schedule, and he totally didn’t bribe Hoseok, a senior in Jimin’s dance crew, either).While it seemed the opportunity present itself a year later in the form of a class they took together (a class that Jimin failed last year because he was just suck at waking up in the morning and couldn’t fulfill the 75% attendance point), Jungkook had to swallow the bitter pill as he just found out that Jimin was already had a boyfriend at that time, for two months.For that, Jungkook decided to watch from the sideline and wished the best for Jimin. And maybe hoped he would get another chance. Just maybe though. That’s why when last night’s event occurred, Jungkook took his chance seriously and actually did it, for real this time.The night started as usual. Jungkook heard Jimin left his room humming to a particularly cheery song, his steps are slightly bounced as if he was skipping walks. Jungkook could tell Jimin was in an extremely good mood, which translated to one thing, he was going to a date. He hadn't hear Jimin this happy for the last two months, but who was he to pry on someone else's business? But when not even half an hour later Jimin came back half-running and practically slammed his door shut, Jungkook knew something must have upset him. He saw that as an opportunity. He didn’t ask for much though, he just wanted to cheer him up and maybe took him out for dinner because he couldn’t have had eaten dinner after all that ruckus, right?Jungkook then took a quick dash to his brother florist’s (that actually really close to his dorm, just two blocks away). While working part time there, Jungkook learned the art of flower arrangements from his brother, and he could proudly say he was quite decent at it. It helped with his artistic sense too.He then arranged a nice bouquet of Marigold, October’s birth flower (now he totally didn’t stalk all of Jimin’s social media to get this particular information). Coincidentally, or perhaps it was destiny, in flower language, Marigold meant protection, comfort, fierce undying love or a way of saying that you’re content to be with the recipient. All Jungkook had to say to Jimin.He added some Baby’s Breath and Artemisia leaves to complement the bright yellow of the Marigold. Feeling content with his arrangement, Jungkook dashed back to the dorm. But his advances came to a halt once he was in front of Jimin’s door.He could clearly hear soft sobs gradually became louder and suddenly all he could hear was wailing and screaming and incoherent speech. Jungkook figured he wouldn’t get anywhere that night and decided to leave the bouquet on the doormat, not before writing a message on the first piece of paper he could find. A knock on the classroom door brings Jungkook back to present time. The door opens revealing a pastel pink haired head that peeks and enters the room almost hesitantly. He is twenty minutes late, but the Professor doesn’t seem to care and motions Jimin to take a seat already.From where he’s seated, Jungkook can see how red Jimin’s eyes are. His swollen face makes him looks even chubbier than usual (Jungkook still finds him extremely cute and almost squealing in the middle of lecture). He also holds tissues over his face in an attempt to stop his runny nose.Jungkook is even more worried now. Was last night that bad? Should he comforted him instead of left him a flower bouquet? What can he do now? He should ask him later when the class is over. “Jimin-hyung are you okay?” Jungkook stops Jimin in front of the class. Jimin looks startled and eyes dart to Jungkook questioningly.“Err, it’s me, Jungkook? We just had a class together and I live in front of your room, kinda?” Jungkook got anxious. Jimin hasn’t forgotten him, right?“Yeah, I know,” Jimin chuckles. Jungkook can almost hear the angels singing. “Oh wait, did you hear me last night? Was it really loud? I’m so sorry. I must have disturbed the whole floor,” Jimin’s cheeks are flushed in embarrassment.“No, not at all. What’s more important is, are you okay now?” Jungkook’s eyes are filled with concern.“It was really embarrassing. I’m already okay though. But…”“But?”“There is this asshole who put flowers in front of my door.” Jimin’s face darkens. He clearly really doesn’t like whoever did that.“Asshole?” Jungkook panics. How can flowers make him an asshole?“I’m allergic.”Jungkook is completely petrified. Amongst all things, Jungkook never thought for a second that Jimin is allergic to pollen.“Hey, Jungkook? Are you okay?” Jungkook melts at his name being called. He didn’t realize he held his breath and didn’t even blink for twenty seconds straight. He kinda likes how his name sounded in Jimin’s voice. Scratch that, he loves it a lot.Which leads to him coming clean with Jimin.“Hyung… that person who gives you flower… that is actually me.” Jimin is stunned. He never thought that the cute neighbor is actually the one who gives him the bouquet. He doesn’t know whether Jungkook was pranking him or he innocently had no idea. But if he didn’t know, then did he… just give him… a flower bouquet? On what occasion?Jimin’s heart got excited a little bit. He always thought the kid he helped in the middle of the night one and half a year ago is ridiculously cute. Big doe eyes and cute bunny teeth peeking whenever he talks, shivering, freezing in the middle of the night like an abandoned cat. He wanted to know him better, befriends him, at least. But Jimin backs out because Jungkook always smells like flower. He couldn’t risk his nose, now could he? In the morning, it’s quite bearable maybe because Jungkook took a shower to rinse off all the pollen he got the day before from—Jimin had no fucking idea where.Jimin must have made quite a facial expression, because the panic in Jungkook’s face becomes apparent and he flails his arms helplessly and makes him looks almost pitiful.“But I don’t know you have allergy! I swear! If I know I will never give you that!” his voice high pitched. It’s apparent he holds himself back from combusting right there.“Calm down, Jungkook. It’s okay. Well, you didn’t know, so it’s not your fault,” Jimin tries his hardest to smile. “Sorry to call you an asshole though,” he lets out a breathy giggle. Jungkook is visibly soften at that.But it doesn’t ease the awkwardness that present itself, though. Jungkook is nervously touching his hair at the back of his head, and struggling to keep the conversation going.“You know you smell of flower almost everyday,” cue Jimin to the rescue. “That’s why it’s so hard for me to approach you. Even though you are this cute,” he teases Jungkook experimentally.Jungkook’s face is visibly red. “I work part time at my brother’s florist’s.”“Ah that makes sense,” Jimin chuckles. “Maybe, if you showered first, we can hang out together sometimes?” he suggests.Jungkook’s big eyes become even wider (if that possible). He nods frantically and his answer sounds almost like a relieved sigh.“Yes, of course! Oh my god, I never thought it’s this simple. Yes, I would like to, so very much!” now he just looks like a giant happy bunny that bounces on his place. Jimin’s heart swells at the sight.“I have a practice in ten minutes,” Jimin announces. “See you later?”“Oh, yeah, right. See you later. Um… have a nice day?” Jungkook is still elated.Jimin starts walking to the exit, but after three steps, he turns around.“And, Jungkook, you should come to my practice sometimes. Hobi-hyung talks about you a lot,” Jimin pauses and smirks. Jungkook tenses. “He said you’re a quite decent dancer too, maybe you can join our crew, if you want.”Jimin walks away leaving embarrassed Jungkook to death. Jimin got home early than usual. Friday practices end at 5 PM and now he got nothing else to do. He still has to fetch himself dinner and if he’s not starving to death right now, he’d rather skips meal and go straight to sleep. Usually he has a night out with his boyfriend. But now that he’s single… should he order a pizza, pop a bowl of popcorn and watch sad movies?As he calls the pizza hotline, someone knocks on his door. He opens it, sees a dashingly sweet bunny smile, stunned for two seconds, and then talks back to the phone on his ear, “nope, cancel that,” and hangs up.“Hi. I-I showered,” a small giggle escapes Jungkook’s lips. “Is this okay?” his eyes hopeful.“It’s great!” Jimin beams. He looks up to Jungkook expectantly. Is he finally taking the first step?But then Jimin remembers his place. He was just broken up with his ex a day before. Should he take another hand so quickly? What if this is just a rebound? He shakes his head.“So, there is this nice noodle place a few blocks away,” Jungkook clears his throat. “It’s nothing fancy but I can guarantee you it will be the best noodle you’d ever taste and they have new menus today, and-““Sure.” Jimin knows where is this going. He expected it, even.“I mean, if you don’t mind,”“I don’t mind.”Jungkook scratch the back of his head. It seems that that is his nervous tic. “Or if you haven’t had dinner already,”“I’m starving.”“Okay…” Jungkook hesitates. “Are you sure?”Jimin laughs, the kind that makes his eyes vanish and lulls his head back, mouth agape revealing his cute slightly crooked teeth. The kind that Jungkook loves. Jungkook can never take his gaze away.“Have confidence in yourself. You have no idea how much you drive me crazy-” Jimin stops abruptly. He just realized what he just says and his cheeks tinge with the most beautiful pink. On the other hand, Jungkook’s face becomes as red as a boiled crab. “I-I’ll take my jacket. Wait here,” Jimin retreats inside, turns his head and adds, “don’t go anywhere,” and then disappears into his room.Jimin rummages his closet to find his favorite black leather jacket, the kind that envelope his muscles and sculpted body almost sinfully. He considers changing his pants but he deems the black pair of jeans he wears now is good enough. He feels like a tease today.He looks at his reflection on the full body mirror in his room. Perfect. But then his heart takes a leap and his stomach feels funny he could almost throw up.“Calm yourself down, Jimin,” he said to himself. “He is not a rebound, he deserves more than that. And I’ll give him everything he deserves,” he convinces himself. He collects his phone, wallet, keys, and meets Jungkook outside. Jungkook gulps. He clearly likes what he saw. Jimin smiles triumphantly.“Let’s go,” Jungkook can’t even look straight into Jimin’s eyes. They walk side by side, and even though Jungkook is itching to hold Jimin’s hand, he doesn’t have the courage.“Jungkook-ah…” Jimin initiates. Takes Jungkook’s veiny hand into his cute chubby one. “Let’s take it slowly, ok?”Jungkook nods. He definitely can take it slowly even if it takes an eternity. Especially if it takes an eternity.
11336139	All Right Now	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Sergeeva [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2000-11-15T00:00:00", "words": "11,113", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Fox Mulder/Dana Scully/Walter Skinner", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Multi, M/M, F/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	All Right Now by SergeevaTitle: ALL RIGHT NOW Author: SERGEEVA Rating: PG - NC17, m/m, m/f, m/m/f Category: SAR, Threesome schmoop (M/Sk/Sc) Disclaimer: None of them are mine. The glory goes to CC, MP, DD and GA, 1013, and Fox. I'm not profiting in any way. Summary: In the aftermath of a nightmareish case, Skinner finds comfort coming from an unexpected source. Feedback: always much appreciated at - Website: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shire/7155/Author's note: This series was written for my dear friend Xanthe. It began with a tiny drabble (see below) and just grew... My thanks to Xanthe for her treasured friendship and for sharing my feeling that Walter doesn't get nearly enough appreciation from a certain pair of troublesome Special Agents. This is an attempt to redress the balance a bit <g>.NB: The first two parts of this were first posted in Spring 1999, but it's taken me this long to write the final part, so I thought I'd repost the lot.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The drabble that started it all...BEING THERE By Sergeeva (Oct. 1998)Two heads together, brown and russet, plotting strategy. Separating, they advance on the tired man, eyes soft with understanding."Sir?"The heavy head lifts, the broad shoulders straighten painfully, dark eyes focusing, ready to face the world again."Agents... I think we're about done here, you don't have to stay."Closer still, a pincer movement of compassion. An arm around the lean waist, a kiss on the bare head."We're taking you home with us, sir."Halfway to refusal, he runs out of defences for once."Okay."Smiles, squeezes back. Two jaws drop, three hearts lift.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ALL RIGHT NOW - PART 1 of 6By the time they reached their destination, Skinner was so drained of energy that he could hardly keep his eyes open. The strain of the last few days had finally caught up with him. Now that the glare of publicity was gone, the Ambassador's daughter was safely back with her family and the perpetrator was in custody, the adrenaline that had kept him alert and awake for the last 60 hours had melted away, leaving him almost catatonic with weariness.He allowed Mulder to help him out of the car and even so, he stumbled slightly as the other man steered him towards the elevator in the parking garage. He reached blindly for something to stop him keeling over and found Scully's firm hand at his elbow. Supporting him on either side, the two agents got him to the door of the apartment and Mulder steadied him while Scully let them in.Looking dazedly around the room, he knew he hadn't been here before. Whose apartment was this? Why had he let them bring him here? He should pull himself together and go home... but the edges of his vision were dimming and the floor looked awfully inviting, if he could just lie down for a minute...The question of where he was, was soon answered, as Scully hung up hers and Mulder's coats in a closet and spoke to her partner:"Run a bath would, you Mulder. I'll fix us some soup. He doesn't look as if he'll last out much longer and I bet he hasn't eaten since yesterday. That robe is in your closet - top shelf."Mulder nodded and disappeared out of the room and Scully turned back to Skinner with concern in her eyes. He'd backed himself up against the wall and was leaning there, his eyes closed, concentrating on staying upright. He was dimly aware of small hands pulling the coat from his shoulders and leading him to a chair."You can sleep soon, sir, but I think a hot bath would help and I want you to try and eat something too. Just some soup and bread."She peered into his face. He looked awful, she thought, drawn and pale. Did he even have the strength to bathe or eat, she wondered, seriously concerned now. She touched a hand to his brow. No temperature at least. Just sheer exhaustion, she supposed, the burden of responsibility for a high-profile, nearly-tragic case that had been the focus of less than friendly media attention and nearly cost the AD his life into the bargain. No wonder the man was shutting down now, after the hell of the past few days.Mulder stuck his head round the door, a black bathrobe over his arm. He'd changed into sweats and an old T-shirt and looked worried when he saw Scully checking Skinner over."How's he doing? I can't believe the shit that reporter pulled back there. The guy's not slept for nearly three days because he takes his job so seriously and she had the nerve to question the necessity of having a 'desk-jockey' running the operation..."Mulder's voice was heated and his eyes flashed with anger on his boss's behalf. He suddenly heard himself and shook his head ruefully. Not so long ago he hadn't had that much respect for Skinner himself, but that had slowly changed as instance after instance of Skinner showing his support and then suffering for it had convinced Mulder that this man was a true friend.He joined Scully at Skinner's side, wrapping the soft cotton robe around the big man's shoulders."Maybe we should forget the bath and just make him eat something before he falls down from malnutrition instead of exhaustion?""Mmm. Sir? Can you manage some soup, do you think?"Skinner roused himself and smiled gratefully. He felt highly embarrassed to be so feeble, but in truth he could hardly keep his eyes open and wasn't up to thinking about the wisdom or otherwise of being here in Scully (and Mulder's?) apartment, being fed and looked after like an invalid."That sounds good, Agent Scully. I don't want to put you out, though. I'll get a cab after I've eaten.""You'll do no such thing, sir, and I think you could call me Dana tonight. You're our guest, remember?"Our guest, he took note. So they were living together. He was happy for them. He missed another voice and presence in his own home and still found himself wondering if he and Sharon could have patched things up if her death hadn't snatched that chance away. He wasn't given to introspection of a self-pitying nature, but he had to admit that he felt lonely sometimes. These two had had the luck to find each other and recognise that they were stronger together than separately. He envied them.They sat at the pine table, the three of them, and ate the warming soup and crusty bread. Skinner was aware of two pairs of eyes checking on him as he concentrated on not falling nose-down in his soup bowl. He felt better already: drowsy and relaxed, ready for sleep. He was eating more and more slowly and when his spoon clattered against the table, Scully took it gently from his hand and nodded to Mulder. Together, they led him upstairs and into a pale yellow bedroom, welcoming with soft light and a huge antique pine bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Skinner hoped they'd tell him what was next on the agenda because he didn't think he had the will to make a decision, however trivial. Reading his mind, Mulder crouched beside him, one hand on his shoulder, waiting until he had the older man's attention."I ran a bath, but it'll be cold now. I think you can go to bed scruffy for once? We'll leave you in peace to make yourself comfortable, but leave the lights on for us, huh?"This was more than Skinner could get his head around at the moment. Leave the lights on for us...??? What...? He must be more tired than he'd realised. He began to slowly loosen his tie and toe his shoes off, autopilot taking over as he got ready for bed. Bending to peel his socks off, he almost rolled onto the floor and would have stayed there for sure, but he clutched at the bedpost and righted himself and even managed to haul himself upright in order to finish undressing. Finding himself naked, he was disconcerted as to what to wear. He was about to pull his boxer briefs on again, when he saw the robe pooled on the comforter. He pulled it on, pleased to find it was plenty big enough. Surely it wasn't one of Mulder's, he speculated, it would swamp the other man's slighter build. Too tired to worry about it, he belted the terrycloth around himself and got into the wide bed. It was bliss: cool, smooth sheets, a soft pillow...He was reaching for the bedside lamp when he remembered something."Leave the lights on for us". Now what was that about? Already slipping into sleep, Skinner let his stretching arm fall heavily onto the pillow and was only dimly aware of the two bodies that spooned in on either side of him after the lights were turned out.In the dark room only the sound of breathing was heard. Then a soft rustle of sheets as Mulder and Scully shifted even closer to the sleeping man. A small hand slipped inside the cotton robe to caress the warm muscled chest, fingers circling in the soft hair. A dark head snuggled into the crook of the broad shoulder, full lips planted a soft kiss on the bare scalp. "Goodnight..."Skinner made a small sound of contentment. "... mmmph... good."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(End of Part 1 of 6)Sometime in the early hours, the nightmare woke him.Horribly vivid, the dream replayed over and over not his rescue of the terrified child, but her death - in a dozen grotesque ways. He still felt the chill of that warehouse as he lurched awake, tremors shuddering through his body. He still heard the little girl's whimpers echoing in his head.Hardly knowing where he was, he tore at the twisted sheets and tried to struggle from the bed, until calming hands stilled him. His shaky legs gave way then and he sank back onto the edge of the mattress. The haunting horror of the dream still with him, he felt the room spin as gentle touches guided him back under the covers."He's in shock, Mulder. Go get that fleece blanket from the couch in the den and then I think some hot tea might be good."Scully eased herself up in the wide bed, wrapping her arms as best she could around Skinner's broad shoulders, rubbing some warmth back into him. Mulder hovered, one hand resting on Skinner's foot under the comforter."Will he be okay? I've never seen him like this... I know how these cases can..." He trailed off, looking anxiously at Scully."I think it's all just catching up with him now", she said, brushing a gentle hand over Skinner's damp brow. "Being a hero is very tiring. He had to hold that madman at bay for seven hours and if his reactions hadn't been lightning fast the girl and he would both be dead now. Get that fleece, Mulder, he's cold as ice."Skinner heard the words but they were just sounds. If only he could stop shaking he could maybe sleep, but no, sleep brought dreams... He shuddered violently and felt something soft settling around him, a steaming mug held to his lips. His teeth were chattering too hard for him to drink, but the delicate herbal scent relaxed him.Scully set down the camomile tea and tugged the soft blanket closer. Shifting so that Skinner's head was pillowed on her chest, she began softly massaging his temples, murmuring soothing words against his smooth scalp.Mulder climbed in to spoon against Skinner's back and added his warming caresses up and down the length of the shivering body. Slowly the tremors subsided and Mulder took one of Skinner's hands in his as they all finally slept again.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Bright sunshine splashed in from the open window when Skinner woke again. He was momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings, but them embarrassment took over, as he remembered the night before -all of it. Had he really been so out of it that he'd needed to be put to bed and watched over like a sick child? Had he really spent the night sandwiched between Mulder and Scully like some unwilling chaperone? He had to leave and right away. Not only was he intruding on the two of them when he must be the last person they'd want to let into their private life, but he had to admit he wasn't up to the strain. It had been altogether too pleasurable to be held and kissed and included. It would be very dangerous to let himself enjoy this when he didn't belong here.He swung his long legs over the side of the bed and was looking around for his clothes when Mulder appeared in the doorway."Good, you're awake. Breakfast is on its way, although it's more like brunch now. Scully says you'll probably need to sleep a lot more yet, but you need to eat and then I can help you get a shower if you like."Mulder sounded as sane as he ever did, which admittedly wasn't saying a lot, but Skinner felt as if he'd missed a huge chunk of the plot somewhere. He tried to gather some shreds of his dignity."I'm very... well, I'm grateful for you taking me in last night, but I do have a home to go to, and a report to write and if you could just tell me where my clothes are...?""It's not going to happen, sir. Scully's already called the Director and got you some leave time and he says your report can wait until after the weekend. Even Freeh is no match for Dana when she's that determined. So all you have to worry about is bacon and eggs and letting us take care of you, for a change.""That's exactly what I am worrying about, Mulder. I can't be here. Freeh will have me up before the OPR in the blink of an eye. And I don't need 'taking care of'..." Skinner could see this whole situation slipping away from him."Let me be the judge of that, sir." Scully had her best no-nonsense manner in place and a breakfast tray in her hands. She carried it to the bed and simply stood over him until he sheepishly scooted back under the blankets and let her set the tray across his lap. Crisp bacon, scrambled eggs, orange juice and a toasted bagel made his mouth water and when he looked up to see Dana, warrior princess, standing with arms folded and a mock-severe expression on her face, he gave in with a good grace and began to eat."The Director has no idea you're here," she reassured him. "I told him you were exhausted and we'd made sure you were getting plenty of rest. I imagine he thinks you're in Crystal City. He said he'd keep the press and the paper-pushers at the Bureau off your back until next week, so you have the whole weekend to get used to this."The food was delicious: warming, tasty, comforting, but he couldn't just let this go on indefinitely."Get used to what?" He sounded churlish, even to his own ears, but he had to know."To us, sir, um... Walter. To you and us together. Finish your breakfast and have a shower and then we can talk some more."She leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek, then retreated to stand with Mulder. Arms looped around each other's waists, they beamed at Skinner as he lay back on the pillows, feeling as if he must have fallen down a rabbit hole.He made them leave him alone to take his shower, shy enough about peeling off the borrowed robe and standing naked in their bathroom. In the steamy heat of the shower, with the soporific hiss of the water, he felt less like questioning this fantasy into which he'd apparently strayed. Tiredness swept over him again and he sank down to his haunches, leaning back against the smooth tiles, his eyes closing.Mulder found him there a short while later, barely awake. He peeled his own T-shirt off and reached in to shut off the cooling spray, then took a big towel and swathed it around the drowsy man."C'mon, Walter. Let's get you back to bed."Skinner stood obediently and let himself be led back into the bedroom. Scully was waiting and she began to dry his feet and legs while Mulder rubbed at his shoulders and back. It felt so good not to have to do anything, or even to think. He swayed against Mulder's chest, fighting a losing battle against sleep, and Mulder just held him closer, blotting at the damp trickles on his neck and stomach. He could feel Dana's soft hands running the towel over his thighs and buttocks, fluffing up his pubic hair. Distantly, he registered arousal uncoiling itself deep within him, and felt a blush make his cheeks and ears glow. Someone kissed his hipbone and someone else brushed a finger over his nipple, ruffling the damp curls of his chest hair. Eyes closed, he moved where they urged him, settling back onto fresh, cool sheets, no fight left in him."Sleep, Walter, we'll be here when you wake up."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Skinner had no idea how long he slept. Conscious only of warmth and the occasional soft murmur of voices, he fended off the nightmares for a while.Once, he surfaced and found himself looking at a small feminine hand curled in his. For a moment he panicked, remembering the terrified little girl cowering in his arms as the kidnapper kept them at gunpoint on the crumbling edge of a four-story drop. Already sleep-deprived and aching with tension, he had endured seven hours of fighting to keep awake, trying to keep his balance on a shattered concrete ledge that might give way any moment, while a lunatic took pot shots at the cracked surface under his feet.He clutched convulsively at these other slim fingers now, reliving the sickening slide as a bullet finally shot away his footing. One arm hooking desperately around a steel reinforcing rod had kept them from crashing to their death and his other hand got a last-second hold on the straps of the child's dungarees. Rescue had come soon after, thank God, and someone had lifted the little girl from his grasp and hauled him up to safety. She'd held fast to his hand, though, needing him until her hysterical parents arrived to reclaim her.Skinner gripped hard on the hand that held his now, and Scully drew him close, suffering the bruising pressure until he relaxed and slipped into sleep again. Tenderly, she smoothed his cheek and tugged the blanket up over his bare shoulder.The next time he opened his eyes it was to Mulder's face. That long nose just inches from his, a naked arm across his hip and a palm curved over his right buttock. His brain refused to process this and he rolled over and let sleep descend again. Mulder settled against his back and the palm moved to stroke his stomach instead. It was too weird, and too worryingly addictive. He could very easily get used to this and that was an impossible dream. Every time he woke he found either Scully or Mulder lying close by, watching him with concerned eyes, reaching to reassure him. He wanted so much to believe it wasn't just a dream, but thought sadly that it was much more likely his overstressed brain was indulging in some wishful thinking.When his protesting bladder forced him into full wakefulness, he was taken aback to find Mulder still very real, very close and very naked. In bed with him. He lay still for a moment, assimilating the information that his head was resting on Mulder's naked shoulder, that Mulder's long thigh was pressed against his, that..."Welcome back, Walter." Mulder shifted slightly, giving him his space. "We thought you were going to sleep the clock round." He smiled gently and called out. "Scully, Walter's awake."Skinner threw back the covers. "I need to..." he muttered, looking round urgently. Spying the bathroom door, he leapt from the bed, only to be met with Dana Scully, wearing only a silk wrap. He fled, blushing furiously and his two hosts watched his retreating splendour appreciatively.A few minutes later he emerged, still pink with embarrassment, his hands cupped modestly over his groin."There are no towels in there and I really need to get my clothes and go..." He lifted his chin bracingly and continued: "I'm sure you want to have your home to yourselves again, s-so..."Scully and Mulder were lying on the bed, studying him intently. He faltered to a stammer, as Scully stood languidly and let her gaze move over him from head to toe. She sighed, contentedly, and began to move towards him."We don't want you to go, we want you to stay here, with us." She reached his side and put one hand on his chest, looking up seriously into his face. Slipping her arm through his she turned and started to lead him back to the bed. He resisted a little, trying to keep himself covered and knowing his face and ears must be scarlet. Again she looked up at him, clear blue eyes urging him to trust, to accept."Walter, please stay with us."She tried to take his hand, but he kept it resolutely clamped over his groin and she smiled and shook her head, despairing of him. On the bed, Mulder sat up and made a space for Skinner to sit, fitting himself behind the bigger man, one leg curled up under him, one draped alongside Skinner's bare thigh, over the side of the mattress. He and Scully exchanged looks and Scully settled on her knees at Skinner's feet and fixed him with her most intense look."Mulder and I... we've been waiting for you, Walter. We've wanted this for a long time now. We both..." She flicked a glance at Mulder and he nodded and lifted his hand to cup Skinner's shoulder. "We both love you."He was stunned. "But how can you, when you have each other? You don't need me, you're complete. I always thought..."Her hair trailed silkily against Skinner's legs as she leaned forward and kissed each kneecap. Her hand stroked slyly up the inside of his thigh and she continued to talk as she caressed him."Hush, Walter, don't think. Let us show you how we feel about you."She gently pushed his knees apart and moved between them, turning her head to kiss each thigh and brushing the sensitive skin with her soft hair. Skinner felt his heart rate increase and his breath hitch and his penis jump under his shielding hands. Mesmerised by the glide of Dana's lips over his legs, he was totally unprepared for Mulder's hand on his face, turning him to face sparkling hazel eyes, or for Mulder's mouth descending on his. He tensed, and Scully chose that moment to kiss the back of the hand that still curled shyly around his swelling cock. Dazed by the double assault, his brain seemed unable to form any protest.Mulder moved his mouth slowly over Skinner's lips and cheeks and jaw... and Skinner thought it was the most extraordinary thing he'd ever felt - another man's stubble against his face."Dana's right, Walter," Mulder breathed against his ear, "we need you to complete us." Firm lips nibbled at his earlobe. "You need us."A flick of a tongue against his lips and his last shreds of resistance were melting. He opened to Mulder and felt Dana lifting his hand to her mouth. She kissed his knuckles and the tips of his fingers and then tugged at his other hand."Don't feel shy, Walter. You are a beautiful man; your body is remarkable. Let us look at you and touch you."Mulder's hand sweeping over his jaw guided Skinner's head back against a supporting shoulder and Mulder's mouth sucked softly at his tongue. Mulder tasted of apple and the heat of his palm over Skinner's throat released the last vestiges of uncertainty. His hand fell away from his groin and clutched at Mulder's shoulder as he turned himself more deeply into the kiss, sliding lower against Mulder's circling arm.Scully held his other hand to her cheek as she contemplated his revealed cock, lifting and swelling deliciously. She drew a sensual finger over the smoothness of Skinner's hip, traced the fading scar of the bullet wound on his belly and the older, silvery lines running down into his pubic hair. Her fingers crept in amongst the dark curls and she watched delightedly as Skinner's abdominal muscles clenched at the unexpected touch.The two men were lost in their kisses - Mulder leading Skinner deeper and deeper, but so gently. Drifting a thumb over his cheekbone, fingering the line of his brows, making slow forays into the silk of the other man's mouth, but then pulling softly away to lock gazes before falling on the parted lips again. Dana smiled dreamily at them and dipped her head to kiss Skinner's belly, in the tender hollow just above his pubic bone.She blew on the moist spot her lips had left and gloried in the ripple of sensitive skin. As if following some invisible signal, Mulder shifted slightly and let Skinner slide lower in his arms, until the smooth head was against his chest. Looking down the length of Skinner's nude body to where the long legs framed Dana's elated face, Mulder kissed the bare scalp."That was just the Prologue, Walter. Now for Act One."And Scully leaned in and licked the powerful sleekness of Skinner's erect penis. Her hands slipped under to palm the yielding firmness of his balls, and stroke the silky shaft."Uuhhnngghh"Wide-eyed, Skinner moaned an inarticulate sound and shuddered in Mulder's embrace. He was held tightly and Mulder's low voice breathed warm against his ear:"Let yourself go, Walter, you look so gorgeous, so hot... We're going to take such good care of you."Long fingers slid over his shoulders and chest, curled round his offered throat, stroked his ears and head... moist heat enfolded his cock, swirling around and over and teasing the tip, pressing softly, flicking, probing... Skinner's eyes rolled closed, his hands fisted in the bed covers, the muscles in his arms and stomach bunching and flexing as he arched into the pleasure.Dana was crooning ecstatically, licking her lips like a cat, her hands sweeping a repeated caress over Skinner's lean hips, into the tender hollow of his navel, along the sleek lines of thighs and under to cup powerful curving buttocks. Melting this strong man into fluid suppleness, spreading him for her feasting mouth that dipped again and again to swallow his heated length.Mulder kept up a constant murmured seduction, as he cradled the broad shoulders and smoothed the sweat-slicked skin..."You're incredible, Walter... Dana is having such a good time, I bet you taste wonderful, I can't wait to see you come, and you can get your own back on us later... This is the best weekend I've ever had. Your skin is perfect, you know, so tan and smooth. And your nipples are so sensitive - see! That's it, let yourself feel it... we love you so much, Walter..."Skinner had never felt so... special. So appreciated, so wanted. He wondered fleetingly how he could ever have deserved this heaven, if he could even begin to tell them how much... Then suddenly all he knew was rushing blood, something molten screwing tighter and tighter inside him, burning and arcing like electricity, and the roaring surge of release curling him up off the bed, tendons knotting, ligaments straining...Mulder rose with him, curving over his bare back, the sweat trickling between them, and Dana's mouth sheathed him, sucking him like a delicious fruit, relishing his nectar. She held his hips as the tremors faded, and Mulder laid him down again, kissing him over and over.He slipped softly from Dana's mouth and she laid her head against his belly, almost purring with contentment."Thank you..." Skinner and Dana murmured together, and all three of them chuckled softly. Skinner tried again:"I don't know what to say... that was... this is... I can't describe, you don't know...""Oh I think we do." Mulder was starry-eyed and beaming. "You didn't see yourself just then... what a beautiful sight!" Dana raised her head and looked at them through lowered lashes: "Inspirational!"Mulder lapped at Skinner's earlobe: "And if you think that was good, wait until I get my wicked way with you.... ow!" Dana pinched the nearest bit of him and Skinner soothed the red mark with his big hand, scooping up Dana's diminutive one on the way so that they were all linked. He brought both their hands to his chest and sighed, closing his eyes."He's gone again Scully.""Mmm... sweet dreams, Walter. Get the washcloth Mulder.."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Mirrors are dangerous things, Skinner thought, scowling at himself, toothbrush in hand, in the brightly lit bathroom. Without his glasses, he had a less than clear view, but he could see enough middle-aged flesh, bags under the eyes and baldness to make him turn away in resigned disgust.His retreat was blocked by a naked and grinning Mulder, tousled hair sticking up at all angles, cheeks flushed with sleep, looking like a mischievous little boy."You can stop that right now, Walter," he commanded, reaching up to smooth the frown lines on Skinner's brow. "I know exactly what you're thinking and believe me, you can't trust your own judgement in this case, with or without glasses."Mulder moved to the second basin, alongside Skinner, and began to brush his own teeth. Skinner stood slack-jawed for a moment, then busied himself squeezing out a measured amount of toothpaste, to hide his discomfort at being so easily readable. Scully appeared in the doorway behind them and wolf whistled their naked butts. Mulder laughed around the brush still stuck in his mouth:"See Walter, you're hot stuff." He turned towards Scully, his chin daubed with froth, and removed the toothbrush. "Walter was having doubts again, he can't see what we see." He spat and rinsed and spat again. "I think it's about time I had a go at convincing him.""Oooh, can I watch?" Scully hopped up to sit on the counter between the two basins, her eyes flashing wickedly as she looked from Mulder to Skinner and back. Predictably, Skinner blushed and dipped his head, finishing his own brushing with excessive concentration. Mulder moved until he was standing between Scully's dangling legs."Mornin' Scully. Someone's in a good mood." He leaned in and kissed her noisily, scooping one arm around her back so he could dip her and lick lustily at her ears and cheeks.She pushed at him, giggling and groaning. "Uggh, Mulder -you're like a big puppy! At least you're nice and minty." She wiped her face and patted her sleep-rumpled hair, pretending to be annoyed.Mulder turned to Skinner and ran a deliberate hand down his bare back, pushing him slightly in Scully's direction. "Don't be shy, Walter. Say good morning to Dana."Skinner lifted wary brown eyes and cleared his throat. "Good morning Dana," he said formally."Oh, for Pete's sake!" Mulder exclaimed, shoving Skinner forward again."Don't rush us, Mulder. Not everyone is as uninhibited as you."Scully smiled softly at Skinner and lifted her face to him, her message clear. He tilted his head and lowered his lips to hers.Slowly and with something that looked like reverence, Skinner kissed her. Eyes closed, not even touching her body, he seemed to be hardly moving his lips, but Mulder could see the muscles in his jaw working and Scully was making sounds that suggested she might shortly die of pleasure. Mulder felt a rush of blood to his groin, watching them.After a few seconds, they pulled apart and Scully gazed up at Skinner with shining eyes. "Good morning Walter. Wonderful morning," she breathed, fanning herself and beaming happily."Hey, I want some of that!" Mulder pouted and pulled Skinner into his arms. He studied the older man's face intently for a moment, then stroked a finger across the wide, shapely lips. "Walter..." he murmured, and Skinner surrendered to the heat in sparkling hazel eyes and the consuming touch of agile lips.Scully watched breathless as Mulder browsed hungrily over Skinner's brow and eyelids and nose and chin, before allowing the other man to still his rampage with a big hand cupped either side of his face. Then Skinner gave Mulder an incredibly intense kiss such as he had given Dana and she smiled to see Mulder's knees buckle.When Skinner finally released him, Mulder staggered back, dizzily, and leaned panting against the counter top. "Do you do everything that well?" he gasped, and couldn't keep his gaze from drifting down to Skinner's cock and then to his own. "Don't answer that. Scully, you'll just have to tell the Director that Walter has disappeared, then we can keep him here as our love slave for ever. That would be okay with you, wouldn't it, Walter?" He slid a possessive hand down Skinner's chest, over his stomach and around his hip to cup a firm buttock. "There's no escape now, Walter. You're all ours. Right, Scully?""Damn right," said Scully, pushing herself off the counter and sidling around Skinner. Embracing him from behind, she began kissing his bare back, and Mulder chose that very moment to bury his hand between Skinner's legs. The big man groaned as moist lips and warm breath sent shivers down his spine at the same time as knowing fingers stroked his thigh and teased at his pubic hair.Scully held Skinner close, rubbing her face against the satiny skin of his back, closing her eyes so she could concentrate on her other senses. On the scent of him, warm and male, on the feel of his muscular ass against her stomach, on the planes of his chest and the tightening nipples under her palms.Mulder was on his knees now, kissing along the line of the scar on Skinner's belly. "You told me once that you were just doing your job." He kissed the spot again. "We all know it's been a lot more than that for a long time." His fingers flexed around the lean hips, soothing, reassuring. "Our jobs prevented us admitting to ourselves how we felt." Scully's breasts brushed over Skinner's back, her hair fell silkily against his shoulder blades, her arms wrapped tight around his waist. "You've risked your career and your life for us too many times to tell us that was just dedication to the job." Mulder looked up at Skinner's sheepish face. He smiled gently. "We haven't always been very appreciative, and we've all had to be circumspect at work, but not here, not any longer." His mouth slid down Skinner's hip and he nudged at a muscled thigh. "Spread your legs a little, Walter." And he sucked Skinner's heavy balls into his mouth.Skinner shuddered at the bliss of that wet tongue caressing him, marvelling that all the antagonism, the confrontation, the defiance and frustration could be transformed to this. He threaded his fingers through Mulder's hair. Lovely touchable hair. What can they see in me? He asked himself yet again.As if hearing his unspoken doubts, Scully took up the baton. In between planting kisses in the small of his back, she spoke, so low he could barely hear her:"It's love, Walter. That's why we're all here now. I loved you even before I trusted you, and it made me see things... askew... sometimes. I said some harsh things to you - we both did, but Mulder understood before me that it was love for you too. Love that made you fear for us and fight for us, and risk yourself... " She buried her face against him and he felt the moisture of tears. It was overwhelming - the emotions this unleashed within him, and it was getting harder and harder to think straight...Something else was getting harder and harder too, and Mulder was doing things to him... That amazing mouth had shifted to his cock and was sucking at the underside, tonguing the pulsing vein, tightening soft lips around the head, massaging him with wet heat. Skinner spread his feet wider still, and suddenly Mulder's hands were kneading at his ass, holding his pelvis close to that wonderful mouth and leaving handprints on the flesh of his buttocks. Skinner moaned.Scully watched Mulder's long fingers flex on the cheeks of Skinner's gorgeous butt, then the firm globes were pulled gently apart and Scully didn't hesitate. She slid her tongue along the cleft. Skinner writhed and made a sound that could only be described as a yelp. The powerful muscle mass was spread again and held apart for her and Scully licked again.Skinner wondered if he was having another out of body experience, because this couldn't be happening to him. Struggling to keep his clutching hands gentle, he pawed blindly at Mulder's bobbing head and rocked back and forth between two incredible sensations. He came with a force that left him barely able to stand and as soon as Mulder pulled away, his shaky legs folded under him, taking them all down to collapse in a sweaty, happy heap.They lay entwined for a while, catching their breath. Skinner felt guilty and embarrassed that he'd had so much attention, until Mulder whispered against his shoulder "I haven't come so hard since I was fifteen" and Scully drew his hand to her breast to feel her thudding heart, then kissed his damp shoulder."Don't fall asleep just yet, Walter. I'm going to run us a bath and phone for some takeout." She stood slowly and grinned down at them."We've got to look after our love slave." A slender finger trailed down Skinner's cheek and she winked at him."We certainly have." Mulder turned Skinner's face towards him and kissed him softly. "Because next time that ass is mine."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Twenty minutes later they were all three ensconced together in the big tub, enveloped in fragrant bubbles and feeding each other Chinese food. Mulder was at one end, with Walter lying back against his chest, and Dana was facing them, her legs draped over Walter's thighs and hugging his hips. She offered him a sliver of water chestnut on her chopsticks and he took it delicately in his teeth and licked his lips. She leaned forward and kissed the drop of oyster sauce from the corner of his mouth then took the morsel of chicken that Mulder held out to her.They ate with relish, making a game of it. Walter tipped his head back on Mulder's shoulder and let the other man drop bamboo shoots into his mouth. Mulder carefully put a glistening cashew nut on top of Walter's bald head and slurped it up with much kissing. Dana held out an eggroll to Skinner and saw Mulder's eyes widen as Walter's lips closed around it."Walter, are you trying to drive me mad?" Skinner nibbled the crisp cylinder further into his mouth and listened to Mulder's erotic moans. Grinning evilly, he showed his white teeth and bit down hard. Mulder nipped at his earlobe.When the food was gone, they began to wash each other. Walter scooped up suds in his big hands and spread them over Scully's breasts, then rinsed her with handfuls of warm water. Mulder worked shampoo slowly into Skinner's hair and over his scalp, caressing the smooth skin. Scully soaped up a big natural sponge and ran it over Walter's chest in languid circles, teasing his nipples, sliding it down the banded muscles of his abdomen to squeeze the soft rush of bubbles out against his groin. Sliding to the far end of the tub, Scully lifted each of Skinner's legs in turn and lovingly washed his feet."I had no idea you had a foot fetish," teased Mulder, his lips against Walter's temple as they lay together."I don't, but Walter has such beautiful feet." She kissed each toe, and the sensitive arches."You're blushing again, Walter. " Mulder lifted Skinner's massive arm and tenderly lathered his armpit.Outside the afternoon sun faded to pink dusk then purple twilight, but the three lovers had no sense of the passing of time. After their bath they lay on the bed talking, confessing to all those moments in meetings and case conferences when they'd fantasized about each other, all the times when Mulder and Scully had sat in some dingy motel room talking about Walter while he worried about them alone, back in DC. Skinner was beginning to accept the magic at last. Mulder and Scully watched him with loving gazes, touching him often, and making him blush with their love talk.One by one, their voices stilled and they drifted off to sleep.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Scully woke first, gently sliding her limbs out of the warm tangle of her two bedmates. She didn't even bother to check what time it was - it was likely the middle of the night, but in this magical weekend time was unimportant. She felt refreshed, as if she'd slept for hours and more than that - she felt hungry, hungry for love.Quietly, she moved round the room, lighting candles and delighting in the scene on the wide bed, as the soft light revealed more and more. Skinner was more or less in the middle, flat on his back, arms wide to cuddle each of his lovers close. Where Dana had slipped out from his embrace, his big hand was still curled loosely on the pillow, soft shadows in the hollow of his armpit where she had been nestling. His other arm was wrapped protectively around Mulder, who was lying half on top of the bigger man, his dark head snuggled under Walter's chin. They'd never even got as far as pulling a sheet or quilt up over themselves, so the long legs of both men were visible, Mulder's interleaved with Skinner's, one knee slightly bent and resting against the other man's groin.Scully blew out the taper she was holding and moved closer to the sleeping men. She could hardly believe the wonderful change in all their lives in just 48 hours. She and Mulder had spoken of Walter "completing" them, of him being an essential part of the equation; what they had already shared was overwhelming beyond anything they had imagined, even in their sweetest fantasies. It was time to take the next step - to take the most intimate journey together, to make a circle of love that could never be broken. Scully was ready; her heart was already beginning to race a little just thinking about it.She knelt on the end of the bed and teasingly began to stroke the sleeping beauties' feet. Mulder twitched his foot out of her reach but that just caused his knee to push against Walter's sleepy cock. Dana grinned. Walter sighed pleasurably and drew his arm even tighter around Mulder's shoulders. Dana continued to tickle Mulder's foot, and stroke Walter's. Like Pavlov's dogs, the men responded: Mulder's knee nudged Walter's awakening cock and Walter's embrace brought Mulder closer and closer to lying on top of him. It was a treat to watch, but Dana was feeling a little left out.Sinuously, she slid up the bed to her vacated spot against Skinner's left hip. She burrowed self-indulgently against his warmth, kissing his shoulder and then Mulder's, where they touched. With a mischievous grin, she insinuated her hand between the two hard bodies, working it slowly down over ribs and stomach muscles until she felt the heat and the unmistakable blood-pulse of two arousing cocks. Wickedly she worked them both at once, her palm curling around Skinner's weighty silk, the back of her hand stroking against the vein on the underside of Mulder's eager shaft. Lifting her head she gloated at the sight of Mulder's fist clutching at Skinner's chest hair and Walter's parted lips emitting low, breathy gasps. She had to play this carefully - get them thoroughly woken up and ready to play, but not allow them any release just yet... one more stroke should do it...Mulder was squirming helplessly against Walter now, the big man flexing his hips against the caress... Dana's hand came down suddenly on Mulder's dimpled buttock and he shot up in the bed, wide-eyed and outraged."What the...?""Oh good, you are awake, then!" Dana sounded all innocence, but her face betrayed her.Mulder narrowed his eyes and tried to look stern as he slowly took in his surroundings. His naked partner all creamy skin and sexily-tousled amber hair, and his naked boss, all tanned muscle and sexily-smooth head... could a boy get any luckier, he thought, rubbing his stinging buttock philosophically. A second later, his own state of arousal hit him, and then his gaze dropped to compare it with Walter's and an evil grin to match Scully's spread across his face."D'you know, I could fancy a sandwich. Whaddya say, Scully?""Mmm, a nice juicy triple-decker, with some succulent Walter in the middle, would be perfect!"Exchanging a conspiratorial look across the still-unaware body of their victim, they fell on him simultaneously with noisy kisses and licks over his face and ears. As he blinked open sleepy brown eyes, Mulder moved south to make raspberries against Skinner's concave belly and blow cool air over his heated groin to give them a little more time. Scully stroked a tender finger down Skinner's cheek, watching his lashes flutter as he struggled to wake up."Hello there, big guy... you got one of those sensational wake-up kisses for me?"Skinner's mouth still tasted faintly of oyster sauce and white wine, overlaid with his own sweetness, and his kiss was as tender and intense as before. Dana moaned into his parted lips, making Mulder lift his head from Walter's thigh and stick his lip out, sulkily."Get up here, you idiot, we haven't forgotten you." Skinner's voice was husky with sleep and the low, seductive growl went straight to Mulder's groin.Mulder clambered up the bed and their three faces came together in a group kiss that was wet, sloppy and giggly. As they worked out how to accommodate three noses and six lips, pulling slightly apart to angle their mouths, Mulder skimmed one hand back down Skinner's body, slipping his fingers under the heavy scrotum. As his tongue flicked across Skinner's lips, darting between his and Dana's, his index finger circled the tight pucker of Walter's anus, just teasing the sensitive muscle, pressing lightly against the tiny opening.After a while he brought the finger up to his mouth and broke the three-way kiss to slick it with his own saliva. His companions watched transfixed, as that long digit slid in and out between Mulder's ripe lips. Dana reflexively licked her own lips and Mulder smiled a lazy smile, full of intent, and offered her the finger. Her pink lips closed around it like a flower, and Skinner closed his eyes with a groan. Mulder leaned in again:"Walter, how would you feel about Dana sucking that magnificent cock of yours, and then sitting on your lap, with you deep inside her?"Skinner groaned again."Hmm... Not very articulate are we? Well, how would you feel about having me inside that sweet, tight ass of yours? I did warn you it was all mine this time!"Skinner moaned and then groaned."Can't choose? Weeellll... how about both, then. At the same time."Skinner gasped a wordless sound."A simple yes or no will do." Mulder smiled fondly down at the stunned man between them. "We're ready for this, Walter; we're longing for this. We want you so much, love you so much. Say yes, Walter, make us truly one."Scully let Mulder's finger out from between her lips with a 'pop' and mouthed a silent 'please' at Skinner."Yesss, yes... please!" Skinner rolled his head to one side, so overwhelmed by emotion he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Dana rubbed her hand over his chest as he gulped a little, and Mulder bent down to kiss what he could reach, which turned out to be Walter's right ear. They all laughed."Okay!" Mulder was bouncing like a kid. "Now you don't need to do a thing - at least not yet. Lie back and enjoy, you big gorgeous stud!"Dropping another kiss on Skinner's scarlet ear, he slithered back down the bed and resumed his intimate caress of the other man's anus, with his now-slippery finger. Scully kissed Skinner's blushing cheek and rolled off him to take some lube from the nightstand drawer."Bend your knees a bit, Walter - there, that's perfect. Scully - get down here and feast your eyes... the silkiest skin, balls as ripe and full of juice as the sweetest plums, a cock to make your mouth water and this little secret place... Are you a virgin, Walter?" The slippery finger probed gently at the opening, circled, pressed. Scully could see the dusky rim glistening with saliva, softening a little, loosening as Mulder stroked it."There... yeah, I am." Skinner's whisper was shy."We'll be very gentle, take it real slow." Mulder's voice sounded a little shaky too, now, and he dipped his head a moment. When he looked up again Dana was holding one of Walter's big hands."We want this to be very good for you, Walter. We want this to be the first time of a lifetime of loving you, of you loving us."Mulder grabbed Walter's other hand and the circle fed the love and trust between them."I'm gonna start with one finger - okay?" Mulder held it up, crooking it in the kind of tiny wave you'd give to a baby. Walter let out a nervous gasp of amusement and relaxed a little.With endless patience Mulder opened Walter up until his finger was readily accepted and buried its full length inside Walter's ass. All the while, he kept up a litany of seduction, both to reassure the other man and to express his own arousal:"That's it, Walter, open for me... you're making me so horny, so hungry for you, Big Boy! And you're hot for me, aren't you... I'm slicking you up inside and you're gonna take me, all of me... I'm gonna slip inside you so sweetly...Think we're ready for that second finger, Gorgeous?"'Gorgeous' was beyond anything but a breathy "Okay," to which Mulder smiled fondly and beckoned Scully closer. Taking the lube from her he squeezed a good dollop onto his finger and then reached for Scully's hand. Her eyes widened as he shared the slick gel with her, smearing their two fingers together. "We share everything, okay?" He looked serious and they both met Walter's dark gaze, soft with wonder.Mulder spent a few moments working plenty of the lube inside Walter and then slid his finger in deep. The tight sphincter was relaxing now, opening more easily. Dana drew her wet finger down alongside Mulder's and eased into the small opening with him. They all rested for a minute, getting Walter used to the extra fullness, all of them feeling the emotion of being joined this way. Dana felt the clenching muscle ring slacken minutely and saw Walter's eyes lose a little focus. She pushed gently forward. Mulder bent his finger a tiny amount to align it with hers and suddenly Walter cried out and arched up off the bed."Say hello to your prostate, Walter!" Scully's grin was wide and wicked.They played with him, sliding their two fingers in and out, taking turns to rub against the tiny gland that made Walter writhe and moan so adorably. Dana took over the seductive commentary:"You feel so good, Walter - strong and tight. And you should see yourself - just watching you, god, you're so beautiful like this, your eyes so dark... Feel us stroking you, Walter, touching you so deep. Our gorgeous, sexy Walter..."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A third finger almost brought a premature end to their orgy - Mulder was rock-hard by now, fighting to maintain a ragged control over his breathing. The sight of Walter's passionate, trustful gaze, of his waiting, willing body, was undoing the last shreds of Mulder's restraint. Scully was panting a little too - one hand caressing Walter's prostate, the other working between her own thighs, stroking herself into dripping readiness. Walter's cock was rigid and ready, rising proud between them; the moment was now.Nodding to Dana, Mulder drew his hand from inside Walter's body slowly, leaving her smaller finger still softly rubbing but lightening the touch gradually, not withdrawing the stimulation all at once."How are you doin' Big Guy? Ready for the ride of your life? Can you kneel up, do you think? Give me your hand."He hauled the big man upright, as Dana let her hand finally slip out of him. Still grasping Skinner's hand he squeezed more lube onto it and guided it to his own cock. Braced back on his hands, Mulder let Walter just hold him for a second. Even that still clasp was almost too much now, the heat and size of Walter's palm enfolding him in warm, teasing pressure. Then Dana wrapped her tiny hand around that massive one and together, she and Walter stroked him."Unnhh, ahh, you'd better not do that too long... I've got somewhere I have to be... You ready to take me there, Walter?""Yeah, I am." Skinner's eyes were so clear, bright and steady and the deepest, softest brown imaginable.This was their moment, his and Walter's. Mulder felt as if he'd been waiting his whole life for this connection, for something even Scully couldn't share - for someone who understood what this moment was like for a man.And for all his inexperience, Walter seemed to know what to do. He leaned forward, dipping his face to the quilt, keeping his ass raised, spreading his knees without being told. His moist, glistening anus was exposed between the taut muscles of his buttocks. No words could have made such an eloquent invitation. Mulder sucked in a shuddering breath."Uh, Scully...""It's okay, Mulder, just you take care of him 'til I get there too."She sounded almost fierce, circling soothing sweeps of her hands over Walter's back and down to gently spread his buttocks while Mulder held the lean hips and nudged his eager cock forward.Walter's sheathing heat and muscle almost overwhelmed Mulder. It felt dangerous - knowing the power of the other man, the trust it took to allow this loving invasion. He felt privileged to be Walter's first, to command, just for a while, this magnificent man. Humble and exultant, he began to move inside his lover, words and sounds spilling out of him:"Tight! Achh, so tiiigght - shit, I'm not gonna last ten seconds here - you're like a python closing round my dick, you sweet bastard -unngghhh, yess! Yess! Just take a breather here... uhh, uhh, now you're like silk, hard as silk, hot as silk... fuck, my brain's dying here, you gorgeous, gorgeous bastard, gotta ease back or I'll pass out... "Skinner had been silent for the first few seconds, until Scully thought he had blacked out. Then she realised he just wasn't remembering to breathe. She grabbed his shoulders, trying to lift his solid weight up off the bed. "Breathe, breathe, Walter - slow now, in... out... that's it ." Painfully slowly, he sat up until he was sitting against Mulder's thighs, hunched over, his face pale. A single rasping breath seemed about to burst his lungs and the deep chest heaved."Don't die on us now, you idiotic, adorable man - I'll kill the both of you if I don't get my go! Keep your head down 'til you feel better. It only seems like he's splitting you in half, you can take him, you're the best."Mulder was lost in sensation, hands sliding up and down Walter's flanks and back, stilling him like a nervous stallion, gasping with the effort of not thrusting hard and fast. He felt as if he'd been hard for hours, on the verge of coming for hours, but this was such heaven he did and he didn't want it to reach climax just yet.At last Walter had found a way to breathe around the incredible fullness in his body. Like a long-distance runner, he found his pace, panting rhythmically, the colour returning to his cheeks at last, the ringing in his ears subsiding. He felt his senses returning too -Dana's warmly chiding voice and soft touches, Mulder's wild and wildly erotic commentary and his possessive caresses. He sat up a little straighter, managed a dazed smile."Hey! You had us worried for a bit there, Big Guy... I didn't know I was such a great lay - no-one's ever fainted on me before."Skinner chuckled, weakly. "I didn't - quite. Give me a minute and I'll be... Dana, you haven't given up on me, have you?""Never, Walter. You're worth waiting for, believe me. Just don't forget that breathing is kind of essential, you know?" Her voice was husky with love and she swiped briskly at her eyes. "Rest a moment and let me do some of the work for a change."She bent down and took Walter's erection in her mouth, not sucking, just holding it on the soft cradle of her tongue. At the first touch of her wet heat, Skinner's hips twitched towards her, but he controlled his thrust and when she was used to the breadth and size of him, Dana began to tenderly swirl her tongue around the stretched velvety skin.A hitch found it's way into Walter's panting breaths, but he rode it, and Mulder held him strongly, taking his own breather from the onslaught of so much sensation, looking over Walter's sculpted shoulder at Scully making love to Walter's sculpted cock. When her licks turned to sucks Walter started to make a low keening moan.Unconsciously, Mulder began to flex his hips in rhythm, slipping an inch out and an inch back into Walter's satiny heat. Walter's head fell back slackly against Mulder's shoulder.Scully's flushed cheeks hollowed as she sucked against Walter's flesh, then she softly pulled away with a kiss to his wet, lush cock-head. "Look at me, Walter..." Sitting back, she caressed her own blushing skin, from throat down over breasts and belly to the red-gold curls between her thighs. Deliberately, knowing he was watching every move, she dipped her fingers into her own juices and then curled them around his cock, adding a sheen of musk to the gleaming, darkening shaft. She moved close to the kneeling man, looking deep into his expressive eyes. This was their moment - hers and Walter's. Mulder sensed it, and stilled his rocking.Skinner bowed his head and shyly leaned forward to kiss Dana's cheek. She tucked her head in against the crook of his neck and they rested there, temple to temple, like swans, necks curving against each other. Walter's big gentle hands spanned Dana's slender back and slid down to cup her womanly hips. As if he was lifting a porcelain doll, Walter raised Dana up and drew her forward until her breasts nestled against the broadness of his chest. Scully kissed him there, the soft skin at the base of his throat, the side of his neck, then she lifted her face and kissed Mulder too, over the span of Walter's mighty shoulder. When they pulled apart, Mulder nodded at her, solemnly and dropped his own kiss on Walter's bare scalp. He spoke one word, neither question nor command: "Now."Still holding Dana like the rarest treasure, Skinner took a deep breath and lowered her onto his cock. She held his arms as she settled him deep inside her, spreading her legs astride his hips. They were joined.Mulder moved first, beginning again his slow rocking into Walter from behind. Dana lay against Walter's chest, letting his gentle forward surge push his hardness deeper and deeper into her. He filled her so completely, she couldn't feel his dimensions, just a heavy, luxurious heat pressing against her walls, melting her, shaping her as something new...Mulder felt expansive, decadent, as if he could make love forever, tirelessly. Dana's extra weight served to press Walter even closer around him. He undulated his upper body, to feel the sensual pleasure of Walter's satiny back and smooth hard ass against his skin. Dana's graceful calves and tiny bare feet were alongside his thighs and he ran his palms over them, and nipped at her arms where they clung to Walter's neck. Walter was so still he wondered if he'd fallen asleep or forgotten to breathe again, but then he felt the big man rouse and take charge. Yes! He thought, yes!Impaled behind and sheathed in front, Walter found that every tiny shift electrified him with sensation. Every inhale and exhale bounced Dana's soft breasts against his chest, brushed the sparse hairs on Mulder's chest against his shoulder blades. Mulder's languorous rhythm didn't quite reach his prostate, but if Dana were to move, then... Mulder bit softly at Dana's arm, which was wrapped around Walter's neck. Dana lurched in surprise and they all three shifted and Walter felt fire course through him from his ass to his cock and from his toes to the crown of his head. Yes!Dana was loving the unhurried fucking - deeply contented to be connected to her two beautiful men, lulled in the tenderness and warmth and closeness. It wasn't explosive, but it was sweet and intense. Then all hell broke loose and she had to grab Walter's arms to hold on... never mind Mulder's steady strength holding them all up, now the giant had woken and she felt the power surge like electricity between them Yes! Oh god, yes!Walter felt incredible, taller than the tallest building, with the strength of ten men, ultra-dimensional, larger than life. To be so wanted as these two people had made him feel, to be included, to be the focus of so much desire and appreciation and understanding... he only hoped he could prove himself worthy of their trust and esteem. He knew it was about far more than just sex, but here and now his male pride and lonely soul just wanted to give them every ounce of loving he'd been storing up for so long. He felt each of them grabbing onto him as he started to move and his powerful ass and thighs started a passionate gyration, glorying in his own body and its sureness in this.There was nothing brutish or savage about Skinner's passion, it was awesome yet infinitely generous - the commanding power of a man who had found himself again. He read their responses faultlessly, knowing just when to pause or slow or build the pace. In the midst of his mastery, he found a moment of quiet and told them: "I can say it now -I love you." He led them and lured them and enchanted them and possessed them and it was as lyrical and breathtaking as any dance. The three of them composed a dance of love that they would replay with variations for the rest of their lives.Standing in that warehouse, at the mercy of a madman's whims, with only his wits and his courage to protect a child's life, Skinner had felt real fear. Not just of the danger, but of his own abilities failing him, of his strength, on which he relied so instinctively, not being enough. That he had not failed had hardly registered in the aftermath of congratulations and gratitude. He'd felt his age and his human frailty all too bleakly during those long hours of siege, and he'd felt more alone than in maybe his whole life. Then into his darkness of spirit had come these two people, these two friends and they'd put him back together again.He had to believe that this was a beginning, a door opening for all of them. He knew that he could no more give up this sweetness now than he had been able to give up his hold on life all those years ago in a far-off jungle. He was like a broken instrument that they had rescued and restringed and now his song, his theme was this, this fierce love, this giving of himself totally and forever.All these things they would speak of later, much later. Now they thrust and wove and swayed and surged together, climbing toward ecstasy, holding hands on the brim of that fathomless deep, plunging as one.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The candles were all burned down, the pale grey of dawn was creeping into the room and over their entwined bodies. They each felt the energy they'd shared still flickering around them like foxfire. But there was a peace upon them now too, deep and fixed and invulnerable. Mulder wriggled an arm free of the knot of limbs and stretched it up over his head, yawning widely. "Walter?" he queried."Mmm... " the sated purr was leonine. The owner of the purr sat up groggily.Mulder reached out and thumbed the unmistakable traces of dried tears on the big man's cheek. "You too, huh?" he smiled, rolling his eyes at such unmanly emotion. "Hey, Dana, you still with us?"Slim pale legs emerged first, stretching stiffly like a kitten, then a mop of wild auburn hair appeared from under a pillow, and two hands pushed at it, revealing blue eyes, still sapphire dark with post-coital bliss. "Hi guys! What are you both looking so sheepish about?"The two men looked awkwardly at each other, unwilling to admit they'd been discussing feelings, but the moment for denial was passed, so Skinner took the bull by the horns:"The unpredictable behaviour of our tear ducts.""Oh that - sweet, huh? It's all right to cry, you know -in fact, everything's all right now."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~THE END (of the whole thing!)
11350386	Death Arena	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": null, "Characters": "Jeremy Dooley, Ryan Haywood, Geoff Ramsey, Jack Pattillo, Michael Jones, Gavin Free, Trevor Collins, Matt Bragg", "Fandom": "Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "7,880", "Additional Tags": "gladiator, fight to the death, Arena, Kidnapping, jeremwood, Sweet, Mad King, Mogar, freelancer - Freeform, rimmy tim, Warden - Freeform, Survival, Pain, A little bit of angst, Ryan and Jeremy are too precious for this world, futuristic setting, Other Worlds", "Relationship": "Ryan Haywood/Jeremy Dooley", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Jeremwood Oneshots", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Jeremy Dooley shook his head groggily and groaned at the pain throbbing in his head. He blinked and looked around, barely able to see anything in the dark smelly room he was in. He started to breath faster and panic rose in his chest as he realized he wasn't in his room at the tavern he'd decided to stay at. This place smelled like sweat, blood, piss, and death and in the limited lighting he could make out bars like a cage or cell. He sat up and the sounds of chains rattling startled him, a quick glance showing that his feet were shackled together by two foot long chains and his wrists were also bound similarly."What the fuck?" he exclaimed."Ah, so the new meat wakes. I'm surprised, when the reapers bring back new recruits they usually don't wake up for at least a day. Least with the potions they use anyway,"Jeremy snapped his gaze to his left and saw a huge troll sitting against the far wall, his long black hair hanging in greasy strands down the front of his wrinkled green snout. Jeremy flinched as the troll licked his lips and grinned, exposing sharp fangs."It'll be interesting to see how a tasty little morsel like you will fare out there in the arena. Humans usually don't last long," the troll chuckled darkly."Arena? What do you mean? Where am I?" Jeremy asked, terrified. The troll laughed and inched closer, causing the small man to scoot back uncomfortably."The human asks where he is. Should we tell him, or hope he survives the first culling and then have our fun with it?" the troll asked itself, reaching a hand out towards the whimpering Jeremy and caressing the lad's cheek with a long dirty clawed finger much to Jeremy's disgust."I bet he won't last five minutes. Tasty little thing. I bet he's nice and juicy!" the troll continued licking his lips and poked Jeremy roughly in the side. Jeremy yelped and without thinking grabbed the troll's finger and jerked it roughly backwards, rewarded with a satisfied snapping sound and a howl of pain from the troll."What's wrong Craster? Can't take what you dish out?" asked a deep voice. Jeremy turned to look and saw a tall human standing against the cell door, arms crossed and face hidden from view. He looked strong, with broad shoulders and chest and muscular arms that were very impressive to Jeremy."Little wretched imp! I'll rip you to shreds and wear your bones as ornaments!" the troll, Craster, roared and lunged at Jeremy who raised his arms to protect his face. There was another howl and he looked up to see Craster writhing on the floor in pain, a collar around his neck Jeremy hadn't noticed before enveloped in a red light."Still won't learn will you scales?" the tall human asked chuckling and seemed to smile at Jeremy, though he couldn't tell."Watch yourself kid, this ones a bitter," he said and turned to leave, chains around his feet clanking."Wait!" Jeremy called and started to stand before being hit with a wave of nausea and dizziness. The man turned and looked at him, waiting for a reason why the lad had stopped him."Thanks. Where am I? And who are you?" Jeremy asked shaking his head. The man laughed, a deep laugh that sparked something in Jeremy."You haven't figured it out yet have you? You must be new to this System. You've been specially selected to participate in a grand and glorious event for the entertainment of the most fucked up, vile assholes in the galaxy," the man said. Jeremy raised an eyebrow."Recruited? More like kidnapped! Aren't I just the lucky one?" he growled."You say potato they say money, it doesn't matter to the Game Masters, all they care about is getting a good show out of you and the rest of us," the man explained with a humored chuckle. Before Jeremy could ask what he meant the sound of a heavy door opening reached their ears and he looked to the barred cell door to see a light suddenly blinding him and keys jingling. As his eyes adjusted he saw several figures at the door all wearing blue and red leather armor and armed with nasty looking swords and electrified nightsticks.Glancing over at the tall man Jeremy saw a hint of short sandy blonde hair before he slipped a black mask onto his head. The armored figures opened the door and spilled in, grabbing several different beings that were in the large cell with Jeremy whom he hadn't noticed before. His own bound wrists were grabbed roughly and he was dragged out of the cell and shoved down a hall, the distant sounds of many voices cheering reaching his ears. Panic seized him again and he struggled to get away from his captor, seeing several of the other prisoners doing the same out of the corner of his eye. He and those like him who resisted were beaten forward and soon Jeremy saw light up ahead, the cheering growing louder and louder, applause now audible as well. He was shoved forward into the light after his shackles were released and saw that he was standing in a large arena like the old Roman coliseums he'd learned about in Old Earth history as a boy. That thought sent shivers down his spine, he remembered what those arenas were designed for. The cheering crowd was almost deafening but the words they cheered were very clear to him now."Kill! Kill! Kill!"Jeremy swallowed and then yelped and jumped as a hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up and saw the tall man, only the face that met his froze his blood. He was staring at a black skull mask, piercingly blue eyes gazing back at him."Welcome to the Death Arena kid. Try not to die, I'm starting to like you," he said and winked. Jeremy rolled his eyes and stared ahead at a pile of assorted weaponry.Fuck my fuck! he thought.He glanced around at the other prisoners and noted several that seemed like formidable beings. Somewhere in the stands a figure rose and began speaking, the crowds hushing in order to hear. Jeremy looked over at the tall man and nudged him."What's happening?" he asked. The man chuckled and pointed at the figure."Flynt Coal, head Game Master and leader of this damn planet. He's telling the crowd what's going to happen as soon as the horn blows," the man explained. Jeremy noted all the man said."And what exactly does happen when the horn blows?" he asked, not sure he really wanted to know the answer. The tall man looked down at him, sadness filling his eyes."We run to that pile of weapons...and then we fight until the horn sounds again," he said. Jeremy hesitated before asking his next question."What are we fighting?""Each other," the tall man said with a sigh as if this were common knowledge. Jeremy paled and felt his breath catch in his throat.This can't be happening! This has to be some fucked up dream! he thought."Most of the newer recruits like you will die. Panic kills more than the fighters do. Keep a level head, watch your back, and don't get greedy. Do these things and you just may live," the tall man said."I never caught your name," Jeremy said. The man smiled down at him."I'll tell you my name if you live. Give you a little incentive to stay alive. Deal?" he asked. Despite the circumstances Jeremy found himself smiling. He liked this guy."Deal!" he said. Just as he said this the horn blew and Jeremy found himself sprinting forward along with the tall man and several of the other prisoners. A quick glance back showed that many had remained still, unsure of what to do.Poor fuckers, they're going to die. he thought. Focusing yet again on the weapons stash he spotted what he was looking for and pushed himself to run faster. Reaching the pile he dove on the weapons he wanted, a bow and quiver of arrows, a long heavy trident, several knives, and a short sword. He darted away as soon as the weapons were in his possession and noticed a small pile of armor near. Glancing around quickly he saw he was in the clear and darted over, pulling on some leather wrist gauntlets, a steel chest-plate, and some shin guards made from the same material as the gauntlets. Knowing he'd lost precious time he whirled around, arrow already nocked to his bow and spotted the troll Craster crashing through a group of prisoners.Remember your training Dooley. Don't hesitate, let your weapon become an extension of yourself. he reminded himself and released the arrow. The projectile sailed forward with lightning speed and accuracy, Jeremy finding satisfaction when it found its mark in the troll's kneecap. With a howl of pain Craster went down."That was for touching me," Jeremy said to himself and nocked another arrow, releasing it and watching as Craster looked his way, recognition crossing his face before the arrow embedded itself in his skull and sunk in almost to the fletching."And that was for being a creepy motherfucker!" Jeremy said with a small smile. Movement caught his eye and he instinctively fell to the ground and rolled to his right. The Jackal that had charged at him let out a frustrated hiss as it sunk its javelin into the ground where Jeremy had just been. The creature threw one of its javelins at Jeremy who threw himself back into a backbend, following through by raising onto his hands and flipping back, landing on his feet. Another thrown javelin, this time Jeremy dodged to the right, narrowly avoiding it, then cartwheeled and launched himself into a handspring that sent him sailing over the stunned creature, the small man landing on the ground and immediately rolling to his left. Rising to one knee Jeremy threw one of his throwing knives at the reptilian humanoid before it could throw its final javelin, the creature falling dead clutching at the knife in his throat. Jeremy sighed but jumped and spun around when a gargling sound came from just behind him. Looking he paled at the sight of a winged demon standing there gazing down at a sword that was sticking through its chest. Looking up at Jeremy he watched as the life left the creature's eyes and it fell to the ground, dagger clattering beside it. Jeremy gasped at the sight that met his eyes.The tall man in the skull mask stood there, covered in blood and smiling wickedly, his sword he'd just impaled the demon with dripping with blood."Can't go letting my new favorite prisoner die now can I?" he asked with a friendly smile before turning and running after a snake creature with taloned arms that was slithering towards a group of fighting prisoners. Jeremy felt himself blushing and shook his head to clear it. A roar brought him fully to his senses and he snapped his gaze to his left to see a wild looking humanoid with a bear head skin hood lunge at another prisoner and easily decapitate him with the diamond sword he had in his hands. Jeremy gaped in wonder at the sight of the figure, shocked. The man turned and looked at him, eyes narrowing."You got a problem dickbag?" he snarled baring sharp teeth. Jeremy shook his head and smiled."No no! Nothing like that! It's just that I've never seen a HomiUrsa before! You're spectacular!" he said in wonder. The man scoffed but smiled. He was young, maybe a couple human years older than Jeremy, with red curly hair poking out from under his hood, his chest bare and muscular, his fur pants now covered in blood."And I thought I'd seen the last human I ever wanted to see. Guess I was wrong," he said shouldering his sword. Jeremy knew he needed to tread carefully with what was going through his mind. HomiUrsa, the legendary Bear Men, were known for their strength, courage, ferocity, and love of fighting. If what he was planning had any hope of actually working and not fucking him in the ass, he needed to be careful."Um, do you wanna...team up?" he asked carefully. The man scowled but looked around and Jeremy saw that he was weighing his options. Finally the young man turned back and shrugged."Why the hell not. Guess we'll both live a little longer if we do," he said. Jeremy sighed with relief and the two charged forward, hacking anyone who opposed them to pieces, Jeremy sniping several with his bow as they ran. They made it back to the wall where they'd come from and saw two figures fighting off more of the snake creatures."Those are Fangers, nasty fucks. If you don't watch out they'll wrap you up with their tails, hold you tight with their clawed hands, and then sink their poisonous fangs into you," the Bear Man said. Jeremy felt compelled to help the two figures, a large red haired, bearded man and a shorter tattooed man. The larger man wielded a club and had a hat on that reminded Jeremy of Old Earth Vikings, animal pelts covering his shoulders. The shorter tattooed man had brown hair and a shorter beard than his large companion and wore some sort of orange metal armor, fighting off his attackers with a blue sword Jeremy had never seen before, one that hummed and sizzled every time he hacked away at one of his attackers."Let's help them!" Jeremy said."What?! Why the fuck would we do that?" the Bear Man asked. Jeremy didn't respond but quickly loosed an arrow and watched it sink into the skull of one of the Fangers, the creature falling dead beside the larger man."Because it's the right thing to do," he said finally as he nocked another arrow. The Bear Man groaned but lunged forward with a frightful snarl and sliced through one of the Fangers, then jumped on another and proceeded to maul it to death. Jeremy swallowed hard as he shot another, glad the fierce man was on his side. For now at least. When the last of the Fangers was killed the two men smiled gratitude at Jeremy and the Bear Man and waved."Hey thanks guys! We were in a shit load of trouble there!" the tattooed one said. Jeremy nodded and turned at a sound. He saw the masked man sinking his sword into a Jackal lying on the ground, but froze when he saw the large Minotaur creeping up behind him preparing to swing its axe. Acting on instinct Jeremy hefted his trident and hurled it with all his strength at the Minotaur. The masked man turned just in time to see the monstrous creature raise its axe and then Jeremy's trident sink into its side, piercing through heart and lung. The bull humanoid fell to the ground with a thud and the man turned to see Jeremy and smiled."Guess now we're even!" he called, causing Jeremy to blush again. Just then the horn blew again and Jeremy looked around to see what was happening before he remembered the masked man's words. We fight until the horn sounds again. Jeremy sighed with relief that it was over, thunderous applause and cheering rose from the crowd. The speaker, Flynt Coal, announced that 67 prisoners had fallen in the fight. Jeremy swallowed hard. He could've been one of those. The gates opened and the guards rushed forward, Jeremy chuckling and readying a throwing knife when he noticed the masked man drop his sword. He looked over at Jeremy and shook his head warningly, the lad wondering why. His question was answered when one prisoner raised an axe and charged forward at a guard screaming. The guard calmly raised what looked like a gun to Jeremy and shot. A green laser bolt of energy surged towards the prisoner and when it hit him he disintegrated, screaming in pain until there was nothing left. Jeremy's eyes widened and he looked up at the masked man who nodded his head towards the blackened spot on the ground where the prisoner had been and again shook his head. Jeremy nodded and dropped his weapons as well, leaving his armor. Reluctantly the three other men beside him did the same.Soon the remaining prisoners were gathered together and herded back through the gate, shackles being replaced as they each entered. Jeremy was stripped of his armor minus the gauntlets and shin guards, somehow being allowed to keep them. Soon he found himself back in the cell where he'd started, the adrenaline wearing off as he slid to the floor, trembling. He looked at his hands and felt tears sting his eyes. He'd killed."Hey, human! Are you seriously crying?"Jeremy looked up to see the Bear Man he'd teamed up with standing in front of him, arms crossed and a confused scowl on his face. Jeremy wiped his eyes and looked away, trying not to look at the man."I mean, it's okay if you are. It's something I've seen humans do from time to time when they're upset. I'm not calling you a pussy," the man said more gently this time and squatted down to look Jeremy in the eye. The lad smiled and looked at the man."Thanks?" he said, causing the Bear Man to laugh as he sat down."So, what should I call you? I reckon you don't like being called human all the time," he asked. Jeremy smiled."I'm Jeremy. Jeremy Dooley," he said and held out a hand. The Bear Man looked at the hand for a second before grasping it in his."I'm Michael Jones, but call me Mogar. That's what my tribe name is," Mogar said."Interesting name," Jeremy said."Well it's no Dooley so fucking get over yourself," Mogar winked and the two laughed. They were interrupted when the two men they'd rescued approached."Can we help you nerds?" Mogar growled."We just wanted to thank you. For rescuing us out there," the larger man said."Yeah. Not many crazy fucks would do that. Most would've just left us to become fodder," the tattooed one said."Just trying to be a decent person in this fucked up galaxy," Jeremy said with a kind smile and extended his hand. "Names Jeremy Dooley."The larger man took Jeremy's hand first and shook it before offering a bow. The tattooed man rolling his eyes at the display."Must you do that every time?" he asked."Yes Geoff, I must. This kind young man saved us, the least a servant of the Beard could do is show the proper respect!" the big man said. Jeremy's eyes widened."You're a servant of the Beard?" he asked."By the power of the Beard we are united! Jack Pattillo, grand wizard of the Wardens," the man said with a smile and held up three fingers."What the fuck?" Mogar asked. Jeremy turned to his companion."The Wardens. They're an old formation of monks and wizards who drew their mystical powers from their long hairy beards. Most of them died long ago during the terrible purge of the Mad King who thought their powers to be...unnatural," Jeremy explained."You know your history well. It's all true. We were a single working body living together in harmony until the purge. Now there are very few of us left in the galaxy and our powers are weak since we are disunited," Jack explained sadly."And who're you? Dr. Robotnik?" Mogar asked looking at the tattooed man in the orange armor."Well I'm no fucking wizard if that's what you were hoping for. I'm Geoff Ramsey. I'm a...retired U.N.S.C. soldier, Spartan class, designation Griff," Geoff said. Jeremy's jaw dropped."You're a fucking Spartan?!" he exclaimed."In the flesh my small friend," Geoff said with a cocky smile."How'd these assholes kidnap a Spartan?" Jeremy asked incredulously. Geoff grew red and scratched the back of his head. Jack smiled and looked at his friend."Yes Geoff, please tell us exactly how these fucktards got their hands on you, the great Geoff "Griff" Ramsey," he said. Geoff grumbled something and then sighed."They nabbed me at a bar when I was drunk. Lost all my weapons minus this stupid sword that only works half the time that a friend loaned me, lost my helmet, my A.I. unit Sheila, and any way to communicate with command or my sergeant," Geoff muttered."So..."retired" huh?" Mogar asked with a smirk as he did air quotes."Shut up it was as good a time as any to retire!" Geoff said. The group laughed and then Jeremy's ears perked up when he heard a familiar chuckle. Glancing around the arguing spartan and monk he spied the tall masked man. Jeremy stood and walked over to him, chains clanking. The man seemed to be smiling as he leaned against the concrete wall with his arms crossed."Thanks. For saving me...again," he said. The man's smile grew as he looked at the incredible man that stood in front of him."It was my pleasure. I see you're making friends. Want some helpful advise?" he asked. Jeremy nodded and stiffened when the masked man leaned down close to his face and whispered in his ear, blushing at the man's closeness."Be careful about making friends in this place. They may not last long," he said and returned to his position. Jeremy glanced back at the group of three misfits."Uh thanks?" he said. The man chuckled."Trust me, when you've been here for as long as I have, you learn a few things that could mean the difference between life and death," he said. Jeremy found himself blushing again. What was it about this guy that had him feeling so...strange. Sure he wasn't bad looking, Jeremy admitted to himself, but there was something else that had him drawn to the charming man."And what about you? Are you my friend?" he asked shaking the feelings away for now. The man's crystal blue eyes sparkled at the question."I suppose, though I don't even know your name. Names usually get exchanged at the first date," he winked. Jeremy smiled and looked away for a second before responding."In the arena you said you'd tell me your name if I lived," he said. The man hesitated before nodding."And as far as I can tell I'm alive. I'll tell you my name when you tell me yours," he said mischievously and smiled. The tall man chuckled and took a second to ponder. The shorter man was incredibly attractive and he enjoyed talking to him, it felt natural like they'd been doing it for centuries. How could he risk telling this bright light in his dark world his true name?"Call me Ryan," he said at last. It wasn't really lying since that was his human name. Jeremy smiled. The name sounded good and had a lovely ring to it."Just Ryan?" he asked. Ryan hesitated again and Jeremy wondered if he'd mistakenly crossed a line."Ryan Haywood," Ryan finally said. It'd been so long since he'd heard his real human name spoken even by himself."Well, pleasure to meet you officially and not on the battlefield over our dying associates," Jeremy said and held out a hand. Ryan took the hand and shook it. Jeremy smiled internally, Ryan's hands were large but gentle and surprisingly soft."The pleasure is all mine...?" Ryan said, pawning for a name. Jeremy chuckled."I'm Jeremy. Jeremy Dooley," he said. Ryan smiled."Nice name!" he said a little too enthusiastically and blushed. Jeremy laughed and the sound made Ryan's heart soar. Jeremy had the feeling that he and Ryan would become very close while they were held captive here.~~~Two Months After Capture~~~Jeremy collapsed to the floor of the cell, exhausted. The fighting had been vicious today, and the lad thanked God that Ryan and his friends had been there. In the two months that Jeremy had managed to stay alive so far he'd become close to all five of them, especially with Ryan. The group constantly fought side by side and kept each other safe, refusing to kill each other. Jeremy had noted one disturbing thing about Ryan though, and that was that the man loved to kill. He gained energy and happiness from killing or torturing those who came against him. Though a little fucked up, Ryan was always gentle and kind to Jeremy and their friends, the group calling themselves the Hunters. He'd even taken his mask off in front of Jeremy, the lad never forgetting that moment.They'd just returned from a particularly gruesome fight in which Jeremy had been injured. Ryan was adamant about getting him treated, begging his contacts in the guard ranks to help. When a few meager supplies came, Ryan with the help of Jack was able to heal Jeremy for the most part, Jack's small amount of power helping the process along leaving the wizard exhausted. Jeremy had lain on the floor recovering, Ryan sitting next to him watching over him worriedly."You know, people are going to start getting ideas if you keep up this charade Ryan," Jeremy had joked. Ryan hadn't said anything and the lad grew serious, knowing Ryan was scared to lose him."Hey, I'm okay I promise," he said softly and put a hand reassuringly on the gent's thigh. Ryan had turned away for a second and Jeremy had thought he'd upset his friend until Ryan reached up and removed the mask. He'd turned to face Jeremy then and the lad was entranced by the man's face. Ryan was beautiful! He had a short neatly trimmed beard and goatee, and his face was absolutely gorgeous to look at! But Jeremy snapped out of the trance when he saw that Ryan wasn't smiling and had tears in his bluer than blue eyes."I don't want to lose you Jeremy," he'd said softly. Jeremy pulled the man down to lay beside him and wrapped him in a hug."Shh, it's okay buddy! I'm not going anywhere without you. I promise," he'd whispered. Ryan cried softly into Jeremy's shoulder and the lad comforted the man, gently rocking the two back and forth. His near fatal wounding had really hit Ryan hard."I don't want to lose you like the others," Ryan had said. Jeremy looked at the man and raised an eyebrow."Others?" he'd asked. Ryan sniffled and looked up at Jeremy."I used to have friends in here. Close dear friends. But one by one they all died and I couldn't save them. That's why I never get close to anyone and try not to make friends. It hurts too much when they aren't there anymore," he'd said. Jeremy was moved and rocked the two again."But it's okay to make friends. It's how we can enjoy those few precious moments in life and share them with others. Look at how you've come to be a Hunter. They're some of your closest friends who would gladly fight side by side with you any day. Look at me," he'd said. Ryan glanced up at him."What do you mean?" he'd asked lamely knowing exactly what Jeremy meant."You let me into your life and obviously you care a great deal for me or you wouldn't be here right now. I care about you Ryan," Jeremy had said slowly. Ryan had sat up and looked at him surprised."You...care about me?" he'd asked stunned. In all his years he'd never heard another being say such things about him. Jeremy had smiled and looked right into those blue eyes."Abso-fucking-lutely!" he'd said and leaned in and kissed Ryan on his lips. Ryan had stiffened at first but then snuggled up to Jeremy and returned the kiss, their two beards scratching against each other. The kiss was gentle and sweet, just like each man had envisioned the other would kiss like.Jeremy smiled at the memory and looked up as Ryan settled down next to him on the floor, smiling as he wrapped one arm around Jeremy's chest in a sweet comforting hug, the shorter man's back pressed against the warmth of Ryan's chest and belly."Good fight today," Ryan murdered into Jeremy's neck as he kissed him softly, his beard tickling Jeremy in that annoyingly hot way Ryan always kissed him when they cuddled."Mmm, how many did you get today?" Jeremy asked as he made a pleasant noise."I stopped counting after forty love," Ryan said and snuggled his chin onto Jeremy's shoulder."I got twenty seven," Jeremy said softly. He still hated killing for the entertainment of their fucked up captors, but he'd learned long ago to kill or be killed."I'm sorry you have to go through this every time. I know you don't enjoy it," Ryan said sympathetically. Jeremy turned his body around so that now he and Ryan were face to face, wrapping his own arm over Ryan's side."I guess you'll just have to enjoy it for the both of us," he said with a smile and planted a quick kiss on Ryan's lips. The older man smiled and returned with his own kiss. Then then two kissed together."Ryan?" Jeremy asked after awhile. They two laid there resting, not caring about the smell as they'd both grown used to it. Ryan's eyes were closed but he wasn't asleep, and Jeremy brushed a few loose strands of the man's sandy blonde hair away from his face as he said his name."Yes love?" Ryan asked not opening his eyes but smiling slightly at the sound of the lovely voice."A month ago you'd said that you'd lost some really close friends," Jeremy said. Ryan's smile fell and he opened his eyes, pain there."Was that only a month ago? It seems like an eternity," he said. Jeremy nodded and Ryan returned the nod, showing that he remembered."Were you...like you are with me with any of them?" Jeremy asked hesitatingly, biting his lip. Ryan adjusted and looked at him for awhile, studying him."There was one I had thought about initiating a relationship with. His name was Ray Narvaez Jr. He was a young human too and full of fire and sass. I wasn't sure how exactly I felt about him but we were very close," he said finally. Jeremy nodded."Oh," he said. Ryan looked panicked."But not the way I'm close to you love! I swear! You are the light of my life, my moon and stars," he sputtered. Jeremy blushed, he loved it when Ryan would say sweet things to him."I don't know Ryan, that's a pretty important thing. A secret lover on the side," he gasped mockingly and giggled when Ryan looked panicked."I'm joking Rye Bread! You're so cute when you're flustered," he laughed. Ryan relaxed and smiled."No more secrets?" he asked."No more secrets," Jeremy agreed. Both men snuggled up and fell asleep, both regretting that they'd lied to the other.~~~Six Months After Capture~~~"How could you lie to me?!"Ryan watched heartbroken as Jeremy stood in front of him with a hurt and betrayed look on his face, tears welling up in his eyes. He'd fucked up in the arena, and it revealed the biggest secret he had."Please let me explain my love," Ryan pleaded. The rest of the Hunters stood by watching the exchange, mixed feelings between them but ignoring them to watch their friends have it out."No! Do not call me your love! I trusted you, you promised me there'd be no more secrets," Jeremy cried. He felt so betrayed, he didn't even know Ryan anymore."Jeremy, please! Let me tell you the truth now," Ryan begged, tears coming to his own eyes. Jeremy crossed his arms and glared at the man he loved."Okay then, explain to me exactly why you lied to me!" he spat, tears stinging his cheeks. Ryan looked on the verge of a breakdown himself and that ripped Jeremy to pieces. But he needed to know."I was scared. I'm so so very sorry Jer! I never should've lied to you! You mean everything to me!" Ryan cried."You're damn right you shouldn't have lied to me! How could you keep this from me? How could you not tell me you're the fucking Mad King?" Jeremy asked. Ryan looked pained at the sound of the name and visibly flinched."I couldn't tell you. I knew that if I revealed myself as the Mad King, the one responsible for the murder of countless innocents, that you would never love me," he sobbed. Jeremy felt his heart shredding as he watching the man he'd grown to love crumbling before him."Is your name even Ryan?" he asked softly. Ryan looked up and nodded furiously."That is my real name, my human name yes! The name my parents gave me. The Mad King is a persona, a title, that I've lived with and gone by for so long I'd almost forgotten it. Until you asked me," he said sorrowfully. Jeremy despite himself felt touched. He still loved Ryan even if he'd hidden this from him, he was just hurt."How do I know this whole relationship wasn't just you using your powers to make me love you?" he asked. Ryan looked so shocked, so hurt at that that Jeremy immediately regretted asking it."Jeremy, I would never use my powers on you, or any of our friends. I love you because you make me better. You complete me. When you didn't know I was the Mad King, you treated me like a normal person, and I felt normal for once," he said as the tears fell. Jeremy didn't know what to say. He knew Ryan well enough to know the man was being genuine."How long did you think you could hide this?" he asked gently, his rage and frustration dying down and compassion flooding back into him."I never wanted you to find out. That part of me died the moment I was put in this hell hole," Ryan said."Why are you even still here? If you're the Mad King you could've used your powers to break out long ago," Jeremy asked and he stepped closer to Ryan. The man looked up and Jeremy saw that his eyes were bloodshot from crying and there was deep pain there."I've remained here as punishment for all I've done. I'm sick of being the Mad King. I'm sick of all the pain and suffering. It felt good at first and damn did I love it! But that's not me anymore Jeremy. Sure I may go a little Mad out in the arena, but I'm done with that life," he said. Jeremy watched as the most powerful being in the universe, the killer of worlds and the great slaughterer, cried in front of him. He sighed and readied himself. He really had no place to be mad at Ryan, he'd lied too. He knew now was the time to reveal his secret too."I forgive you..." he started. Ryan looked up with hope in his eyes."You do? Jeremy thank you! I'll make it up I promise! I'm so so sorry I'll never lie to you again!" he exclaimed all at once. Jeremy held up a hand to silence him."I forgive you, but only if you forgive me," he said, voice shaking. Ryan looked confused."Forgive you? For what love? You've done nothing to wrong me my stars," he said. Jeremy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself. He opened his eyes and looked into Ryan's."I'm not just Jeremy Dooley. You're not the only one who's been hiding a secret identity," he said softly. Ryan looked utterly lost and confused so Jeremy continued, ignoring the exclamations from their friends."The reason I survived the first day, the first culling, is because I've had training. I've trained my whole life in combat and self defense. I'm not just a normal guy," he said. Ryan's eyes widened and the others gasped."I grew up much like the Spartans like Geoff did. Being trained since childhood how to fight and kill. I was part of an organization called the Rooster Corps that went out on covert missions and dealt with the scum of the universe that no one else could or would deal with. My name, my designation, is Rimmy Tim," he said and bit his lip nervously. Ryan seemed to be processing all of this, calming down slightly."Was?" he asked. Jeremy smiled and nodded. Leave it to Ryan to focus on what was seemingly unimportant."Was. I left them a year or so before I was kidnapped by the Game Masters. I've been wondering the universe, traveling from planet to planet, system to system, seeing what's out there and helping those who can't help themselves. I'm a Freelancer now, or at least I was," he said. Geoff stiffened at that."You motherfucker! You're a member of Project Freelance?" he exclaimed."Not officially, and I'm not a traditional Freelancer like the ones you've encountered. They're guns for hire, mercenaries. I'm not," Jeremy explained, still looking at Ryan."Jeremy, not to sound like a total dick..." Ryan started."Which I still say you are for now," Jeremy said with a small smile."But how does that compare to being the Mad King and keeping that a secret? I mean, yours was a job that you left a year ago, mine is my life," Ryan continued sadly looking down. Jeremy held Ryan's chin with his fingers and raised his head until the two were locking eyes."It compares because I wasn't honest when I said I would be. We both lied about ourselves and our pasts," he said. Ryan searched his gaze but saw that Jeremy wasn't hiding anything."And you'll forgive me if I forgive you?" he asked. Jeremy nodded."I'm willing if you are," he said softly and cupped one of Ryan's cheeks with his hand, wiping the tears away with his thumb. Ryan looked at Jeremy and reflected the gesture, smiling with relief."Then I forgive you Jeremy Dooley, Rimmy Tim. My love," he said. Jeremy smiled."And I forgive you, Mad King Ryan Haywood," he said. The two embraced and cried. After a moment they stood and looked at their friends."Will you guys forgive us?" they asked. The trio looked at each other before Mogar shrugged."Why the fuck not," he said and the group laughed. They all grouped together for a hug."So Ryan, out there in the arena, when that demon stabbed you through the heart..." Geoff started."You want to know how I'm still alive?" Ryan asked with a small smile. Geoff nodded."As the Mad King I have incredible powers. Some gifts, others curses. One of them which I consider a curse, is that I'm immortal. I cannot be killed," he explained. The grouped oohed and awed while Ryan rolled his eyes."Trust me, it's not all the gloriousness that it's cracked up to be," he said. He pulled down his shirt collar to reveal the spot where he'd been stabbed, the Hunters' eyes growing wide with surprise. There wasn't a mark at all!"Another one of my powers. I can heal from any wound. I cannot die but I can still be injured," he said.After several hours of talk the Hunters all settled down for bed, Ryan and Jeremy snuggling up to each other and holding each other a little more closely and tightly than they usually did."Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Ryan asked, gently tracing Jeremy's bearded jaw like it was the finest silk in the galaxy."You may have mentioned it a few times in passing, but please refresh my memory," Jeremy chuckled. Ryan giggled and kissed the spot in Jeremy's neck he love being kissed at."You're my everything, the reason why there's light in this world," he said with a smile."Ryan please! Flattery and flirting will get you everywhere with me!" Jeremy smiled as he turned his head to look at his boyfriend."Everywhere?" Ryan asked and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Jeremy smiled and unbuttoned his pants, Ryan following suit."EVERYwhere!" he said.~~~One Year After Capture~~~Jeremy glanced at Ryan and nodded, knowing that the time had finally come. The Hunters stood in the arena along with many other prisoners and new recruits, preparing for another day of gladiatorialesk fighting.But not today! Jeremy thought. He looked over at his friends and they nodded that they were ready. Several newer prisoners who'd been there a few weeks had joined them, mostly humans. Matt Bragg, Trevor Collins, and Gavin Free who'd been a cupbearer to Flynt Coal himself before being thrown into the dungeons to be killed in the arena, and had taken to Mogar immediately, all were ready for what was about to happen."Let the games begin!" shouted Game Master Flynt Coal. The horn blew and many prisoners rushed forwards, all except the Hunters. Ryan glanced at Jeremy who gave him an encouraging smile and put a hand on his shoulder."Together!" he said."Together, forever!" Ryan completed their saying. He looked forward and half closed his eyes, concentrating. Power he hadn't used or felt in ages surged through him, making him feel alive. The Hunters were all suddenly rejuvenated, injuries healed, weapons materializing out of thin air in front of them. Jeremy got his bow and arrows and his sword and looked over at Ryan who'd materialized a wonderfully dazzling sword for himself. Suddenly he threw his arm out in front of him and seemed to concentrate harder. There was a long moment of nothing, then suddenly a golden streak flashed towards them, crashing through the wall of the arena, plowing through anything and anyone in its path until it seemed to click into place in Ryan's hand. He placed the object on his head and Jeremy saw that it was the golden cracked crown of the Mad King. Ryan opened his eyes and smiled sweetly at Jeremy then their friends."It's so fucking good to be back!" he exclaimed with a wink and the other laughed. The crowds were booing and confused, Flynt Coal was demanding the guards seize the Hunters. The guards rushed forwards but Ryan simply raised a hand and they all exploded into puffs of blood clouds."Everybody ready?" Ryan called."Let's Stop!" Geoff called. Ryan closed his eyes and the entire arena began collapsing, killing everyone there, prisoners, Game Masters, roaring crowds, all of them."Never again will this place be used to hurt other creatures!" Ryan said aloud. He and the Hunters rose into the air as the earth shook and they watched as it opened and swallowed the arena and buildings whole before sealing back up. Soon the Hunters were looking at a large empty expanse of land, no indication that there'd ever been a death arena there."Next stop, literally anywhere but here!" Ryan called and Jeremy watched in amazement as they teleported from the desolate wasteland they'd known for so long, to a planet that was bustling with life and beauty."Where are we Ryan?" he asked looking around once they'd settled back onto the ground. The gent smiled."I always wanted to come here, see it for myself. I'd heard stories about it all through my childhood and swore that one day I'd visit. Jeremy, Hunters, welcome to Earth!" he said proudly. The group gasped and gazed around. Jeremy was in awe and looked back at Ryan."It's like I always dreamed it would be!" he exclaimed. Ryan smiled."I'm glad you like it! I wanted my first Earth experience to be with someone special, someone I love," he said and took Jeremy's hand. The lad smiled up at his boyfriend."I can return you all to your respective homes if you so wish it," Ryan offered looking towards the Hunters. They all looked at each other and then back to Ryan."Nah, this place is cool as dicks!" Geoff said. The group laughed and Ryan looked down at Jeremy with a raised eyebrow, terrified of what his boyfriend would choose."Not on your life big guy! I go where you go and stay where you stay and that's final!" Jeremy said. Ryan laughed and kissed Jeremy on the forehead."I love you, Jer bear," he said and nuzzled Jeremy's nose with his own."And you, Mad King, I love you. I love you so damn much Rye Bread!" Jeremy said and leaned up and kissed Ryan's lips."I have a present for you love of my life," Ryan said sweetly and Jeremy looked at him. Gently taking the smaller man's face in his hands Ryan planted a soft deep kiss on his lips. Besides the usual feeling Jeremy got when Ryan kissed him he felt a strange buzz. When the two parted Jeremy looked at Ryan confused."What was that?" he asked. Ryan smiled sheepishly and blushed."We always say together forever. Well, forever is an awfully long time for an immortal and mortal to be together. So I've given you the gift of immortality and healing," he said. Jeremy gasped and looked at looked at his hands."Now I'm like you?" he asked. Ryan nodded, still not looking directly at Jeremy, hoping he'd he hadn't upset his love. Jeremy smiled and gently turned Ryan's head till they faced each other."The greatest gift you've given me. To love you forever. Thank you Ryan," he said. Ryan smiled with relief and then noticed that the others were looking at them."Got some more immortality to hand out buddy?" Trevor asked with a smile. Ryan pondered this and looked at Jeremy quizzically."You told me once that being immortal sucked because your friends die and it hurts too much when they're not there," Jeremy pointed out. Ryan smiled and nodded. He looked towards his fellow Hunters."I'm not kissing you," he said with a chuckle and held out his hands. Golden light flowed from them and drifted over to each Hunter, washing over them."My gift to all of you. A thank you for your devout friendship," Ryan said smiling as each Hunter laughed."I guess now we aren't really Hunters. We're just a crew of fakes," Matt said. Geoff smiled at that."Immortal Fake Crew?" he asked and the group laughed. Ryan turned back to Jeremy and hugged him, smiling down at the man he'd fallen head over heels for."Does that sound nice to you my love?" he asked. Jeremy smiled and snuggled against Ryan's chest, feeling safe there."As long as you're with me Ry," he said.
11306601	It Began with a Dare	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Marauders (Harry Potter)", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by MeganRachel09", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-26T00:00:00", "words": "2,159", "Additional Tags": "Muggles, Muggle Life, Alternate Universe - College/University, Muggle AU, Texting, Food, Dare, Marauders' Era, Marauders, Marauders Friendship", "Relationship": "James Potter/Lily Evans Potter", "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 }	He’s rounding the corner of the dining hall when she stops him – the beautiful redheaded girl from his history class. Just appears out of nowhere, really, running up from behind him and swinging round in front of him to corner him there. For a long moment, she just stands there and stares at him, wide-eyed and crazed and pretty. His hand jumps to his hair, gives it a slight ruffle.“Hello,” he says, trying his best to sound confident and charming and even half as cool as his best friend and roommate, Sirius, who has had more girls in his bed since the start of term than James and their two mates, Remus and Peter, have in their lives combined. “Not that I mind being cornered by a beautiful woman, but…”Before he can give his best attempt at charming her, she cuts him off. “I saw you.”“Yeah?” His eyebrows, he is sure, are attempting to join the gravity-defying mess atop his head, but she doesn’t seem to care. “I saw you, too.”He had, after all, seen her in class earlier. He didn’t think she had seen him, though. Until this moment, actually, he had been under the impression that she had no idea he existed. She sits nowhere near him, is always there before him, and tends to stick around after class to talk with a small group of girls long after he heads out for his next class.Her eyes narrow in confusion. It isn’t until she switches her focus to his face that he realizes she has been staring at the two bags he’s got slung over his shoulders this whole time. Oh shit.“What are you talking about?” she asks, studying his face for a long moment and then raking her gaze down his body.He wants to think she is checking him out – she may very well be, he’s no slouch – but he gets too caught up in the fact that she is staring at him like she has never seen him before in her life. He is too crushed to have his long-held theory confirmed to rejoice in the fact that her face flushes when she realizes he caught her.“What are you talking about?” he parrots back at her, trying to keep the surliness out of his tone. Why he is so crushed that she’s never taken any notice of him before, he doesn’t know. He knew she had never seen him in history before. He sat in the seat very nearest the door and never spoke in class, preferring instead to alternate between quietly staring at her and texting his mates who had somehow managed to get into a different history class than him, all three together. It shouldn’t bother him that she hadn’t noticed him. It was his own fault, really, for not speaking to her before even though he’s been staring at her for five solid months.He hefts his loot more firmly over his shoulder, which is a mistake. In an instant, she is staring intently at the two bags he is carrying, like a lioness tracking her prey. He makes to step around her, but she shifts to block his way.“If you don’t share, I may kill you.” Her voice, previously so light and soft and adorably confused, comes out in a low growl. James pauses, looks at her, laughs. And instantly regrets it when she stalks closer. His grip tightens on the straps of his bags and he clears his throat, his heart pounding and thinks, dear God, she’s not only beautiful, she’s crazy.“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says aloud.“The scones, you prat!” She grabs for his bag, and he instinctively steps back.She trips, nearly falls, catches herself against the brick wall next to them. He grips her shoulders to steady her, eyeing her warily. When she flushes, clearly embarrassed, he reluctantly relinquishes his grasp on her.“Are you okay?” he asks. He wants to ask if she’s stoned as fuck because, honestly, who else cares this much about a scone? Her eyes are clear and focused and she seems perfectly in control of herself, if not a bit scone-crazed, so he thinks she probably isn’t stoned.Sconed, says the voice in his mind and he nearly laughs aloud, but refrains, not wanting to see that warning flash in her eyes again, not so soon anyway.“I’m fine. Sorry.” She looks down at her feet for a moment, then takes a deep breath and looks up into his face again. He is momentarily stunned by the pure green of her eyes. “It’s just… I really fucking love those scones. They’re the only thing that they serve consistently that I actually love and you’ve gone and taken them all!”Her eyes widen and go a bit glassy and he is horrified to think that she may actually cry? Over scones? Jesus Christ, she is actually a raving lunatic. He may also be in love with her, which is ridiculous and just as horrifying a prospect.“What on Earth do you need with five dozen scones anyway?” she demands, thankfully not crying.“I don’t…” He trails off, unsure of what he should say.“Don’t try to play innocent!” She jabs a finger at him, stopping just short of actually prodding him in the chest. “I saw you! You walked right up to the scones with your empty booksacks and started talking to poor Myrtle…”“Myrtle?” he cuts in, genuinely confused.“Yes, Myrtle! The scone lady! Myrtle!”Judging from the look on her face, he is a right asshole for not knowing the name of the woman who serves the very dry scones in the dining hall. He wonders if this girl knows the names of every server in the dining hall. He reckons it’s probably not the best time to ask, though, so he nods instead.“Oh, yes, of course. Myrtle the Scone Lady. Very sorry, continue.”“You were talking to Myrtle, distracting her with your dashing looks and your charming smile and your bedroom eyes and she didn’t even notice you stuffing five dozen of my favorite scones into two bags!”They stare at each other for a moment, both wide eyed for probably two very different reasons.“Look, I’m going to be honest with you,” he finally says. “All I got from that was that you were watching me and think I’m attractive.”“I didn’t – I never – now you just…!” She sputters, gasps, and chokes on the words that won’t come out.“Now, don’t worry. I’ll level with you. I have watched you before…” When she takes a step back, he realizes what he just said, and his eyes widen. He holds out both hands in a reassuring gesture. “Oh God, no. That sounded awful. I just meant…”He stops, rakes a hand through his hair, fights the urge to rip it right out of his scalp. Fuck, I’m not Sirius I can’t be smooth.He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a whoosh, forcing himself to calm down and speak rationally in spite of the erratic beating of his heart. “I’ve noticed you, is what I mean, and I find you rather attractive as well.”“I don’t – That’s not - I just –”“And that’s why,” he interrupts her, swinging one bag around, unlatching it, and holding it out to her, “I am willing to share my haul with you.”She eyes him uncertainly for a moment, then stares down into the bag. The look on her face is absolutely hysterical – it’s as if he has just presented her with the Mona Lisa. She is either half starved to death or she actually just really, really loves these scones.She picks one out of the bag, and immediately starts devouring it. He decides not to tell her that these are far from the best scones he’s ever had. She may literally kill him if he did.When he zips up his bag and swings it back over his shoulder, she sends him a reproachful look. He sighs and reaches for it again, handing her one more. This is the last one, he vows silently, because if he gives her any more, then everything could very well be ruined. One missing scone? Easily explained as a miscount. Two missing scones? Well, it’s not his fault if the server –Myrtle the Scone Lady – decided to take one or two for herself before serving.“Stingy,” she says, but smiles nonetheless.This time when he laughs, she doesn’t look angry. She just continues happily munching away on her subpar scones.His phone vibrates in his pocket, his friends undoubtedly inquiring as to the status of his mission.“I’ve got to go,” he tells her regretfully. “But I’ll see you around.”“Where?” She asks, and he understands that she’s asking how he knows her when clearly this is first time she’s ever noticed him.“Tell you what,” he says, grinning when she looks up at him, crumbs coating her lips. “You figure out where I know you from and I’ll buy you all the scones you want.”She flushes and makes to wipe her mouth so she can reply with some dignity, but James has already turned to leave, convinced that that is the smoothest statement he is capable of making and choosing to leave it at that.----Somehow, for the first time ever, he is running early on Monday morning. When he slips into his seat at the back of his history class, his gaze slides immediately to the seat she always occupies – six aisles down and four rows to the right. His heart sinks when he finds her spot empty.His phone vibrates in his pocket. Before he is even able to get it out of his pocket, it vibrates three more times. For once, he is relieved at the fact that his mates are going to be chatting in the group all class; the object of his affection isn’t in class today, so the texting won’t be a distraction. He holds his thumb over the home button and his phone unlocks, immediately opening up to the group chat.SB: bets on whether or not prongs gets a date PP: notRL: Bets on whether or not Prongs even gets noticed? SB: SICK BURNJP: i hate you all. SB: hey two scones is worth a date rightPP: unlikelyRL: For what it’s worth, I think she’ll at least recognize you. PP: rlyJP: what a lad, moony. wormtail, you’re my least favorite. RL: Sure. Wouldn’t the face of the absolute nutter who stole every last scone in the dining hall and felt it appropriate to only give you two of them be forever burned in your mind? JP: don’t act like you’re not the one who dared me to filch them all. JP: by the way, i take it back. i have no least favorite. i hate you all equally. SB: chin up mate SB: just ask her outSB: if nothing else you can always lure her in with the promise of free sconesPP: tru uve alrdy prvn urself capable JP: what? couldn’t figure out how to shorten capable? PP: rudeRL: He’s not wrong. I mean, you all need to work on your punctuation and capitalization, but Wormtail, it hurts to read your texts sometimes. PP: :(SB: enough of thatSB: back to matter at handSB: are you going to ask her outJP: she’s not even here. PP: she h8s uSB: shes avoiding you lolJP: fuck off. RL: She doesn’t even know you’re in that class. It’s still early yet. There’s time. JP: okay, okay, i’ll come clean. moony, you’re my favorite. SB: that hurtsPP: dnt wry hes v fickle ull probs b his fav in a fewSomeone sits down next to him, and he looks up expecting to see his usual neighbour, a pale, perpetually-tired-looking boy who usually pays even less attention to the professor than James does. Instead, he sees long red hair and vibrant, triumphant green eyes.“I believe you owe me all the scones in the world.”His grip goes slack for a moment, just enough for his phone to slip out of his hands and clatter loudly to the floor. He ducks down to grab it. When he sits up straight again she is smiling at him.“James Potter,” he says, holding out his hand with a wide grin.When her small, soft, warm hand slides into his, his heart stutters. He is staring at her, absolutely enchanted by her, but she’s staring right back, the smile on her face a perfect mixture of triumph, happiness, and excitement and he thinks, really hopes, that he’s not imagining the flush on her cheeks. She bites her lip and ducks her head, but still manages to maintain eye contact with him.“I’m Lily Evans.”
11365425	Cadmium City The	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": null, "Characters": "Original Characters, Jane Drew, Will Stanton", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by jacksgreysays (jacksgreyson), jacksgreyson", "chapters": "43/?", "completed": "", "published": "2015-01-20T00:00:00", "words": "21,618", "Additional Tags": "Vampires, Superheroes, Angels, Demons, Crimes & Criminals, Werewolves, Magic, Witches, Time Travel", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Original Work", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Original Work, Dark Is Rising Sequence - Susan Cooper", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Joy is tired, angry, and bleeding. She is missing one of her shoes, has torn both legs of her pants, and will need to get a haircut to even out the still smoking mess on her head. But she trudges back to the apartment triumphantly, because she did it.She killed the vampire that bit her brother. She even beat the one month deadline by a week.“Simon,” She greets him, after a quick stop to dunk her head under the kitchen sink. Might as well try to save as much as she can, “Simon, I did it.”For obvious reasons, the past three weeks have not been kind to her brother. To begin with, he had always been somewhat sickly–asthma, allergies, liable to catch four different strains of the flu–but the whole vampire infection being what it is, basically his body just started to systematically shut down. And she had been forced to confine him to their apartment.“Simon?” Her call nearly echoes in their tiny, empty apartment. His bedroom window is open, the screen punched through from the inside.“Oh god, no.” But even as her mind denies it, her hand is already pulling out her phone and calling the one person who may be able to fix this.…“You were too late,” The doctor intones, expression as irritatingly blank as always.“No, I had one month to kill it.” Joy bites back, fists shaking in her pockets.“If you had come to me sooner–”“It was your team that fucked up, why would I trust you with something this important?”“–I would have been able to tell you that you mistranslated. You didn’t have one month, you had one moon. Specifically, you had until the full moon.” Ellen’s face is still placid, but even she’s not so unaffected as to deny the sorrow seeping into her voice. The doctor had been fond of Simon, in her own way, and even his sister for all that the feeling wasn’t mutual.“But that was…” Joy breathed out, horrified and unable to finish.“Eleven days ago,” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The second time Joy meets Alvin, she can’t decide whether or not it’s a terrible nightmare or an elaborate ruse. Considering he thinks it’s the first time they’ve met, when in fact the first time they met he was trying to arrest her for stealing over twenty thousand dollars worth of jewelry while they were both using their alter egos, her reservation is valid. Silverfang and his vigilante friends failed in catching Jaguar that night, but that doesn’t mean Joy Guerrero has necessarily gotten off scott free.Fortunately and yet, somehow simultaneously, unfortunately, her younger brother really is dating Alvin Chand. Which means that although she isn’t going to be arrested belatedly for her crimes, her personal and professional lives are going to intersect in rather uncomfortable ways.“Joy,” Simon says, smiling, unaware of the inner turmoil he is causing in his older sister, “This is my boyfriend, Alvin.” Which is obvious, from the way their arms are threaded together like out of a period drama.Alvin looks at her nervously, the same way any teenaged boy meeting his boyfriend’s family for the first time would look. Not like a vigilante trying to suss out if said family is a wanted burglar.“It’s nice to meet you, Alvin,” She lies through her teeth, extending a hand for him to shake. And if her grip is particularly tight, then it’s just an older sister’s prerogative. She raised Simon herself, she’s allowed to be protective.“Likewise,” Alvin responds, wincing slightly. More from a message received than from actual pain–Silverfang has super strength, Jaguar does not.“Joy!” Simon scolds, knowing her too well, though secretly pleased enough not to do much else, “Let’s sit already,” he continues, leading the two of them to one of four table in the unimaginatively, but aptly, named Baker & Son’s Bakery and Cafe.Mostly, the Guerrero siblings just call it the Bakery. In part, because the entire name is ridiculously redundant sounding, but also because the two of them have lived in one of the apartments in the upper floors since they were children. The Bakers are practically family.As soon as they all sit, Aaron, the latest generation of Baker, eagerly makes his way over to them with a pad of paper and a bright purple crayon. He is four years old and his tiny apron has little cartoons of smiling cats. As it should, since Joy was the one to buy it for him as a birthday gift.“Ms. Joy,” He beams up at her, delight obvious on his adorable face. His greeting for Simon is only slightly less bright, “Mr. Simon,” And his smile drops completely when he eyes at the third member of their party suspiciously, “Who are you?” Aaron pouts, though he’s likely aiming for a scowl.Aaron’s father, observing from behind the counter, stifles a laugh.“This is Alvin, my boyfriend,” Simon explains, which prompts said boyfriend to wave slightly with a slightly sheepish smile.Aaron looks extremely skeptical, but quickly dismisses him to gaze adoringly at Joy instead.“Are you our waiter today?” Joy asks, extremely amused by this entire exchange.“Yes!” He chirps, pride evident on his cubbish face, “Daddy says I’m a good em-ploy-ee,” sounding out each syllable carefully.“I’m sure you’re a big help,” She assures, Simon and even Alvin, grudgingly, making noises of agreements. Aaron’s smile really could not get any wider.“I think I’ll have one hot chocolate and a… hm, what’s your favorite kind of muffin, Aaron?”“Blueberry!”“Then I’ll have one of those,” Joy responds, smile curling as Aaron’s purple crayon draws random scribbles on the notepad. Behind him, his father waves a hand in acknowledgement of the order.“Ooh, me too. Except instead of a muffin I’d like two chocolate chip cookies, please.” Simon adds, before nudging his boyfriend’s shoulder, “What about you Alvin?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “There, perfect!” Jun cheers as he finishes styling her hair. He rests his hands lightly on her shoulders and in the mirror she can see how pleased he is with his work, his smile matching her own.Hair artfully arranged over the tips of her ears into a low bun at the nape of her neck, a layer of makeup transforming her normal blue-grey pallor into cream and tan, and contact lenses to modify the shape of her pupils, she looks… human.“I’m so impressed with myself right now,” Jun crows, packing away his supplies into his cosmetics bag, “You look great,” he continues, as much a compliment for himself as for her.“Thank you, Jun,” She says, her gloved hand–it’s already November, so it’s not too out there–touching the space a centimeter above her cheek, so as not to smudge the makeup.“Hey,” she meets his eyes in the mirror, he looks serious. Happy, still, but controlled, “You’re welcome, okay? Any time you want me to do this, I will totally spend the hour and a half to do this. I got your back.”They spend a moment beaming at each other before he continues, “Now, are you ready to explore the fascinating world of Cadmium City during the daytime? Because, let me tell you, there’s a bakery that always closes before sunset that is fantastic and you have been missing out!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Those assholes are fucking useless!” Apex yells, punching one invulnerable fist straight through an inch of steel into the inner workings of the latest swarm of evil robots and pulling out several still sparking wires.One down, only about two hundred more to go.Behind him, one robot readies its blade arm (fucking swords for arms, why?) only to be toppled to the ground by a massive canine. Its head is then ripped off by said canine’s jaws, leaving the body inert. Between one blink and the next, the canine turns into a crouched human who scowls up at Apex in commiseration.“They lost Griever,” Silverfang growls, jaw and teeth still distorted from his rapid transformation, “I told them to keep track of him.”“Useless!” Apex repeats, bodily flinging one robot into a clustered group of four that may have been trying to fuse into one larger, deadlier robot (what the fuck, seriously). “Go find him, before he absorbs too much and ends up hurting himself. His power doesn’t do shit against machines. I’ll be fine on my own.”Silverfang grunts before bounding away, turning from human to wolf between one step and the next.In between the screeching clash of metal, the slowly petering out screams of civilians, and his own pounding heartbeat, Apex can hear the sounds of conversation between their piece of shit allies and the villain of the week. Are they–? Those tools are trying to get through to him emotionally. All five of them, apparently, at the same time.“You are fucking kidding me,” he bites out between grit teeth, sacrificing a scratch to the arm to avoid a stab in the leg. It heals slowly, sluggishly oozing blood, “Are these rust fuckers’ goddamn sword arms coated in poison?”This is the worst.“We are never working with this team again.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I am not bleeding, bruised, or in any way concussed currently!” Brian cheers, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, arms flung out and nearly punching Curtis in the eye.“Congratulations,” Alvin says, not even at all sarcastically. It’s practically a miracle if Brian can get through a day without taking on someone’s pain. Most days they’re lucky and he has an opportunity to pass some of it on, but he still ends up keeping some.“My little boy’s all grown up. Walking around on his own two feet, not hurting himself.” Curtis mocks, faking a sob; but he lets Brian smack him with a pillow, so all is forgiven.“We can’t all be invulnerable,” Brian shoots back.“We should get cake,” Alvin suggest, which is somewhat disjointed from the conversation, but not a total non sequitur, so his teammates let it slide.“It’s not that big of a deal,” Brian demurs, confused yet also totally on board for cake. Any dessert, really. Well, all food, really; teenage boy plus biological superpower equals ludicrous metabolism.Curtis, squinting suspiciously in Alvin’s direction, smacks a fist against his open palm. Then his expression rearranges itself into an exaggerated leer, waggling eyebrows and all, “Is Simon on shift at the Baker Bakery today?”Alvin blushes, a creeping spill of red across his face. Curtis laughs.“Dude, don’t play me like that,” Brian chides, kicking at Alvin’s ankle but only just barely grazing it, “If you want a wingman you just have to ask. Don’t risk my twenty four hour streak of perfect health for a lie-cake. A lake. A kie?”“Yeah,” Curtis agrees through his chuckles before it peters out, “Don’t tease, man. You can’t lie about cake.”“It wasn’t a lie!” Alvin protests, though suitably shamed.“And anyway,” Curtis continues, unrelenting, “Isn’t his older sister super protective?”“I’m pretty sure she hates you,” Brian adds, completely unhelpfully.“She hasn’t even met me yet,” Alvin grumbles, but nods because he’s pretty sure Joy Guerrero hates everyone in general but Alvin specifically.He has no idea why. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Don’t be a stranger,” the man says, affable grin on his face. She lets his hand go and smiles back at him, watching as he walks away into the light.The man has not been able to walk by himself for six months.The man has been pronounced dead as of 4:37 this morning.Her vision distorts as it usually does, back to the normal shades of gray that she sees the world. She is told that it’s usually the opposite for most psychopomps–at least the ones that bother with vision–but for her, the dead and the place they go to has always seemed more vibrant, more real than the monotony of everyday life.She is in the custodian’s closet on the same floor as the man’s room, just down the hall. Crinkling her nose at the stench of cleaning supplies and soiled laundry, she rises from her prone position seated on an overturned bucket, and leaves the hospital.The nurses don’t see her, or rather, don’t notice, just another faceless scrub-wearing member of their ranks shuffling along the graveyard shift. She appears frequently enough that the staff know her face, if not quite her purpose and definitely not her name. She will be back, eventually.She has school in three hours. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “You really want to try playing office politics against her? There’s no point. Either you’re insignificant or she’ll obliterate you. That’s it. There’s no standing your ground if you’re on different levels.”-"Try again,” Tally says, heels kicking into the wall she sits atop. Her small wings flutter behind her in syncopation.Edwin, Winnie as he has the misfortune to be called by his two friends, huffs in frustration but does as she says, calling for that small glow within him.Becka, as coolly apathetic as usual, just watches as he flubs the spell once more.“You’re never going to get assigned if you can’t get this,” Tally chides, worriedly. She’s due to start her commission in a month–guardian over a human who has the unfortunate tendency to steal from the wrong person. Becka, likewise, is already slated for duty in the matchmaker division.If Winnie doesn’t finish the certification requirements soon, he’ll either have to repeat the final year or get one of the boring Etherlands jobs.“I know,” Winnie grits out, wings and shoulders both hunched up near his ears.“Again,” this time Becka demanding, flapping her wings once twice thrice to ease her descent from beside Tally on the wall, “you’re holding on for too long here,” she points at his sternum where the core of his energy rests, then trails her fingers up his throat, along his face, to rest on his forehead, “and over thinking it.”Catching on to what she’s suggesting, Tally adds, “Prepare the energy and just let the spell do it’s work.”-They don’t have long for this world. A week at most, depending on how much mischief they can scrounge up and how much power they use up to do so. They don’t have much to begin with, even less when it needs to be split between the three of them.A week.Unless they can find someone to enter a contract.That’s pretty difficult–most wizards and witches, as rare as they are, don’t bother with the low level demons. Much less three.But they do honestly work better as a trio. Not that they’re in the business of honesty.Jenny laughs at the thought. A Lie demon, so desperate as to consider the truth.Oh, but she’s the best out of the three of them to find a contract holder. Merely a division of labor.While Travis sows some chaos, Nick will be the one to keep the angels of their trails.One week.A lot can happen in one week.Say, finding a pair of potential contract holders, thwarting a much stronger demon’s plans, and falling in love with an angel.Game start. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I will find you,” he hissed, hand encircled around Victoria’s wrist in a bruising grip.His breath smelled of mint and she wondered if, perhaps, it would have been better if she could smell alcohol; if the possibility of blaming his behavior on drunkenness would have been preferable.But she had no time for what ifs, had little patience for indulging his tantrum.“Not likely,” she shot back, yanking her arm away.She walked away from him; his body curled up on the floor via a well-placed kick—As Venus, her life was simple. Wake up, check her email, receive assignment, find the target, kill the target, go to sleep.Simple did not mean easy. Or normal.But it was still her life. One that she had chosen, one that she had excelled at, and one that gave her satisfaction.Until the entire Falcone family had been obliterated in the span of three days.All of them–from the patriarch to the lieutenants to every little runner on the street–but one.“Shh, little one, I’ll keep you safe,” the woman once named Victoria, murmured to the young child trembling from shock on her sofa beneath three of her spare blankets.Henry Falcone, the youngest blood member of the Falcone family, slated to inherit control of a major chunk of all organized crime in the nation.Including her services.She couldn’t be Venus anymore, that’s not what he needed.—Vivian hadn’t planned to fall in love–but who plans to? If she had, she certainly wouldn’t have chosen Curtis Ives of all people.“Tell me a secret,” she said during one of their date nights–Henry and Curtis’ son, Caleb, asleep upstairs. The kids had a sleepover, and she supposed the adults had one as well.“Tell me a secret,” she had said, warm and relaxed from good food and wine and company, “Something you’ve never told anyone else,” she continued.She hadn’t expected much from it, maybe some silly childhood story. But she should have known he would make it something real. Something serious.He was halfway in love with her, with Vivian that is, this identity that she had created to protect a little boy from his would-be murderer. Curtis would have done a lot more for her than tell her a secret.If she had known what the secret was before, she would have never asked. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “You’re kidding,” Alvin says flatly, eyes narrowed.The doctor, in response, lifts one eyebrow. Even though it’s been years–over a decade–it still triggers an instinctive fear reaction in Alvin. He freezes, and she smiles, a slow creeping thing like a beast curling its lip back.He lifts his chin. In humans, that would be a gesture of defiance, but in beasts…“No, I’m not kidding,” the doctor finally answers, almost smug in her victory.Alvin looks back down at the operating table, and ignores the persistent feelings of deja vu, of being a teenager lined up beside his teammates, listening to the doctor explain the latest mission. Before, there were pictures and files about the villain of the week. Now there are only two photos; the one on the left features a sullen-faced boy, the one on the right shows a somehow equally sullen looking lion cub.“Cats and dogs, doctor!” he protests, futilely.She is clearly unimpressed, “Hari isn’t some house cat, and you’re not a dog. Come now, Silverfang, what are you afraid of?”The problem is, Alvin actually is a licensed foster parent. He needed to be in order to prove himself a suitable guardian for his niece and nephew.It was a hassle to do–given the political climate a decade ago and the fact that he was, is, a homosexual bachelor–and so he makes sure to keep it up-to-date even though Diana and Jericho are both legal adults and have no need for him to do so.Alvin didn’t really think it would be used against him, “Fine,” he huffs, “I’ll meet him.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “One day, you will find yourself lost and terribly alone,” she says, tone flat and empty.The man kneeling before her looks his fill, eyes going dry from his staring. His hands shake, he presses them against his legs to still them.“On that day, you will call for me, and I will come,” she continues, and though her voice stays the same, her leather jacket creaks from the motion of her fists in her pockets, “And we will renegotiate then,” she finishes, before turning and walking away.The man does not call out after her, does not beg her to stop and explain, does not say anything.He stays kneeling, even an hour after she’s already gone.It will be fifteen years the next time he sees her, and she has not aged at all.—“Go away, Az” she says, one irritation away from justified manslaughter. Normally, she is an epitome of calm, but right now she feels like a disgusting stereotype of a hot-tempered redheaded woman.“I need a favor,” Az says, completely ignoring her words and sidling his way around her and into her office.“I don’t owe you anything,” she responds, and already she has lost by engaging with him. Well, at least he’s not touching anything.He looks and smells like he crawled out of a bar–alcohol and cigarettes and human sweat, maybe even some piss–so keeping his hands to himself is the least he can do.“I need you to look after your niece for a while,” he says, unapologetic, rocking back and forth on his heels.“I don’t have any siblings.”“And yet,” he shoots back with a smile, “your daughter has a cousin.”“Hell, which of you assholes had a kid and what happened to the poor sucker who was the mother?” She asks, shock and curiosity overcoming her annoyance.Az grins wider, “Me, of course. And old age happened to her–you know how humans are,” he says with a nearly careless shrug, but she spots the way his smile trembles at the edges. “They barely last a century.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- I was five the first time I met a superhero, though I didn’t know it then. I had been grocery shopping with my grandpa–more like, clinging to the cart so as not to get separated from my grandpa as he went grocery shopping–and something caught my eye. I don’t even remember what it was now–probably something silly, like a fallen penny or maybe the colorful packaging of some candy.Regardless of what it was, I remember that I had let go of the cart. Just for a second, it felt; I had looked away from my grandpa just for a second. And yet, when I turned to look back: he was gone.I panicked, unsurprisingly. Felt a sudden bite of abandonment, and the sharp sting of betrayal. My grandpa had left me!Of course, now that I am older, I realize he had just moved the cart around the corner of the aisle. No doubt, if I had walked a few steps, I would have spotted him immediately. But at that time, I was young and afraid and out of my depths.I didn’t cry–only because I had always been a quiet child–but I did clutch at my shirt in confusion, unsure how to face the world all on my lonesome.But, as this anecdote goes, I was not alone. A very tall man–or at least, he seemed very tall at the time, given my own childhood size–in the grocery store’s green uniform apron knelt down in front of me, putting himself at my eye level.“Hello, there, miss” he said to me, voice soft and soothing, “Are you okay? Is there anything I can help you with?”And I must have laughed, a little watery and tremulous, but a laugh nonetheless. Because here was this adult talking to me the same way adults talked to my grandparents, like I was an adult, too.“My name is Brian,” he added, pointing at the name tag pinned to his apron.“Hi, Brian,” I whispered back, “I’m Leanne.”“I see your cart has misplaced itself, Miss Leanne. Would you like help in finding it?” He asked, not missing a beat.I nodded, leading him to unfolding himself back onto his feet.“And my grandpa,” I added, because I decided I could forgive his transgression if it had been an accident, “He’s old; I have to watch out for him,” I continued, because my grandma had said so.Brian nodded, as if what I said had been perfectly legitimate.It only took a few steps to round the corner where the cart and my grandpa–only just realizing I was not holding on to it–were. The ordeal was over in less than five minutes, and yet…I remember he didn’t reach a hand out to me, but he did hold out one of his apron strings for me to grab–even though he had to undo the knot in order for me to reach it. At the time, I hadn’t thought it was strange. Truly, if that were the last of it, I wouldn’t have recalled that little detail.But, of course, that was not the last of it. Unfortunately, that was the last time I met Brian because, not two weeks after that incident, the vigilante Griever was killed in action. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- On the day of her brother’s wedding, Joy falls in love.It is the second worst thing to happen to the Guerrero family.Normally, Simon would be very supportive of his older sister having any positive emotions for anyone other than himself and maybe their neighbors the Bakers who ply his sister with free sugar and caffeine on a near daily basis. Frankly, it’s not even the fact that it’s his wedding that is the problem–Simon is not so selfish that he demands the entire day be about him and his fiancé/husband–it’s the who that is the problem.Because it’s one thing for Simon to keep secrets from his vigilante husband about the real identity of the criminal Jaguar. It’s another thing entirely to not tell his sister that she’s fallen in love with a different vigilante Apex. Who himself is engaged to yet another vigilante Firefly.This can not end well for his sister. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “It’s interesting to see what people think they'e entitled to,” she says, that strange lilt to her voice that has been scratching away at his brain since day one, “It’s not exactly their vulnerabilities, but it makes them just as easy to manipulate.” She smiles, then, a predator baring teeth which is such an obvious comparison that somehow he realizes what the problem is.“You’re not Irish at all,” he accuses.Her smile becomes genuinely amused, and when she speaks her accent rounds out, slows down, becomes thick and syrupy sweet like molasses, “I’m not the real Red, either.”Reeling, he tries to find his bearings, tries to take in more of her to see what he had previously missed. Her hair, her clothes, any clue that he should have spotted much earlier that says ‘this isn’t the criminal mastermind you’re looking for’. But before he can complete a thought, a sharp blow to the back of his head sends him toppling to the ground.He sees two matching pairs of shoes, two matching faces–but different clothes, different hair.“Don’t worry,” the woman he thought was Red says, “she’s not Red either.”—The thing is, no one really knows who Red is besides, probably, Red and their small handful of trusted lieutenants. Authorities don’t even know Red’s gender, age, ethnicity. Admittedly, the Irish heritage was a reach–the lone survivor of the 22nd Precinct’s bombing remembering an accent on the other side of that disastrous phone call–but it was deemed significant enough to be even a possibility.When he comes to, head aching, wrists and ankles tied to a chair, there are five unimpressed people standing in front of him and he is pretty sure none of them are Red. Well, two of them have self-confirmed as not being Red. For all he knows it’s a double-bluff.“Detective Camilo,” one of them says, the woman he already spoke to, the others remaining silent. Maybe to keep their voices secret, though if they were worried about they also wouldn’t have shown him their faces.This doesn’t bode well for him getting out alive.“We understand you have a younger sister, is this true?” the woman asks, and Gavin tries to keep his pokerface, tries not to react to the obvious goading, but his hands clench into fists, the ropes bite into his skin at the way he tries to surge against his bindings.“Tori is such a smart girl, such a big contributor to the community. I heard she’s studying to be a detective just like her big brother,” the woman continues, and Gavin can’t help himself.“You stay away from her! Don’t you dare touch her!”“Relax, Detective,” a different voice rings out, not one of the five in front of him, but someone behind him. Someone with an Irish accent, someone whose voice is suddenly so familiar that he knows without seeing that this was the person on the other end of that phone.Red.“No one’s going to hurt your baby sister,” the voice says, the accent flowing, completely at ease, yet somehow ratcheting up his fear more than talk of Tori did.“What do you want?” He rasps out, sweat beginning to dampen his hairline.“Nothing yet, Detective,” Red says, and a pat on Gavin’s shoulder causes him to flinch, “Actually I’ve something for your new precinct; consider it a gift.”Two of the silent men in front of him step away from the crate they had been leaning on, and using crowbars, pry open the front.Inside is a body. Alive, thankfully, but bound worse than he is–blindfolded and gagged on top of that. The main suspect for one of his other cases, a double homicide in his new precinct.“Don’t go asking him questions about me, Detective,” Red says, with one final pat on his shoulder, “he doesn’t know what I look like, either.” At some signal, the five lieutenants move away, all of them vacating the warehouse, leaving Gavin and a probable murderer tied up. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- At three in the morning, Emily climbs through his bedroom window and drips on his carpet shamelessly. A few seconds later her sister does the same, but Quinn at least looks a little bit sheepish.They remain silent, as if not to bother him, even though they know he’s already awake.He sighs, “I’ll get some towels,” he decides before dragging himself out of bed towards the linen closet in the hallway.“Thank you,” Quinn’s voice follows after him and, after a second and no doubt an elbow to the ribs, Emily voices a grudging, “Thanks.”On his way to the linen closet, he knocks on the apartment’s other bedroom door. “The twins are here, and they’re dripping on my carpet,” he complains. He doesn’t hear a response, but he knows Maroon is awake and heard him. She’ll be by to ask for their report.Back in his own bedroom, he tosses the twins a towel each and rummages through his drawers for some dry clothes they can change into. By the time he decides he wouldn’t mind losing his old charity marathon shirts and some basketball shorts to the terror twins, Maroon has slipped into his room with the first aid kit and has begun carefully inspecting them for injuries.“Nothing too bad,” Emily says, “No need for all this fuss,” though the way she leans into Maroon’s hand tells another story.Quinn, having no desire to save face, blandly presents her forearm. There is a giant angry burn surrounded by painful looking blisters.“What happened?” Maroon asks, beginning to treat the wound with ointment and bandages.“Ah, well, you know…” Emily demurs, shrugging with a false nonchalance, “Thunderbolt.”Quinn’s lips purse, partially because of her arm, mostly because of the memory. He can sort of understand: if his childhood friend were on the opposite side of the law and they had to fight each other, he’d be conflicted, too. Or… upset? Pissed off?He’s not sure, Quinn’s expressions are hard to read.“Stay here for the night,” Maroon directs.“Or what’s left of it,” he interjects, giving each twin a bundle of clothes. They change immediately, as if he and Maroon weren’t right in front of them.“Take my bed,” Maroon nods in the direction of her room, “I’ll share with Xander.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- On a clear moonlit night, the kind of night in which their personalities click together rather than their usual clash, they are soft and sweet to each other in a way they seldom have been or ever will be. Irina’s bed is the bigger and better option–more accustomed to the finer things in life–the sheets nearly as smooth as kisses on skin.“You dress like a pirate,” she says, trailing her finger down a spine decorated equally in freckles and bruises. At such a light touch, Frances’ skin turns to goosebumps, the small downy hairs prickling ineffectively.“And you dress like a queen,” the other girl laughs, tickled by the touch and the thought.“Is that meant to be an insult?” Irina asks, lightly scraping the backs of her fingernails in a reverse path.“No,” Frances says, turning over, unashamed of her lack of shirt; even if she were, it would be quite belated. And it’s not like Irina is wearing a shirt, either. "Was yours?“ she continues, the slightest hint of a bite to her words, prepared but not seeking the argument which could so quickly form.Irina pauses, allows herself to ponder. She’d prefer this moment not to sour, either, "No,” she admits, perfectly honest for once, before leaning forward and pressing their lips together. God forbid any other truths spill out of her mouth.—The problem with Frances is that she’s infuriating. Unrefined and loud and heedless of her own safety much less proper etiquette. They shouldn’t work together as well as they do, but despite all their arguing that’s just how it is.Irina wouldn’t trade it for anything.—“Frances and Yasmine are back, Boss,” Tanj says, even though Irina has previously told her not to call her such on multiple occasions.Yet another correction is on the tip of her tongue–they’re a team, not a mob–before the words register. “Where are they?” she asks, hoping she doesn’t sound as eager and worried as she feels. The mission she sent Frances and Yasmine on was only supposed to take three days, four at most, yet a week had passed without any word from either of them.From the look on Tanj’s face, Irina has failed to control her tone, “The infirmary,” she says. Obviously, she doesn’t add.Her worry condenses into dread. “Excuse me,” she barely blurts out, before stepping around Tanj and hurriedly walking towards the infirmary.She doesn’t reprimand Tanj’s “sure thing, Boss,” that drifts after her.When she finally gets to the infirmary and lands eyes on Frances–and Yasmine who, except her hair, looks as unruffled and composed as normal–she can feel the weight in her chest grow lighter. It is only a small injury, Yasmine dutifully stitching up a cut on Frances’ upper arm, far from the worst she’s ever seen Frances receive and laugh off.But it is a short-lived relief because Frances does not do so this time.She sits, quietly, tense and pale, brow furrowed and staring at nothing. She doesn’t even make a remark on Irina’s presence which is something that she always pokes fun at, sniping about the team’s high and mighty leader beginning to care for her poor, lowly servants.“What happened?” Irina asks, aiming the question at Frances, but Yasmine is the one to respond:“We ran into some complications,” Yasmine says mildly, winding a clean bandage round and round Frances’ arm. Who remains unnervingly silent, even now.“Three days worth of complications?” She spits out like an accusation, scrambling to regain her calm, her objectivity.“It’s not like we decided to play hooky,” Yasmine bites back, also reproachful, nearly offended at the implication that she might be even the slightest bit unprofessional. And it’s not like Frances would do such a thing, either. For all her jokes and recklessness, she’d never do anything that would endanger the mission.Irina doesn’t apologize, but she consciously gentles her tone when she prompts, “Complications?”Finally, Frances speaks but it’s with such a hollow expression on her face, her words bearing such ill news, that Irina almost wishes she hadn’t said anything at all. “We ran into some members of the Flock.”—As far as Irina and, really, any outsider knows, the group referred to as the Flock is an elite branch of the Kelley crime family that make strategic strikes against the family’s enemies whether that be through theft, blackmail, arson, kidnapping, or murder. No one actually knows how many members the Flock has because one of them is a confirmed metahuman–shapeshifter–and can look like anyone at any time.Not in the way Tanj can, who despite her default appearance is a completely baseline human. Tanj is just a fantastic actress with an uncanny control over her body language and voice–though the makeup skills and near endless wardrobe doesn’t hurt either–capable of seeming like a completely different person between one breath and the next. No, the Flock has a shapeshifter who can actually transform themself into a specific other person.Irina has had nightmares about such a thing, turning around and seeing one of her team’s face melting away into a stranger’s. Thankfully, those are sparing, the kind of fleeting thoughts limited to her overactive subconscious.But Frances? She seems to be actively afraid of the Flock. And Irina doesn’t know why.—All of them have their secrets, Irina perhaps more so than the others–although not actually knowing the others’ secrets makes that a guess more than anything concrete–and she’s been firm on the matter of everyone being entitled to keep them.She created this team not looking for friends, only wanting up and coming stars in each field that wouldn’t mind taking orders from a young woman–unsurprisingly, that turned out to be other young women, but she’s hardly put out by such a thing–and yet, now? She wouldn’t hesitate to call any of them her friends.And, maybe, Frances as something more.She can’t ask for Frances’ secrets without being willing to offer her own, but something in her fails to let go. It’s hypocritical, but she wants to know about Frances’ past so much that she aches with it. And not even just why the other girl is so afraid of the Flock, though that would be welcome, too.No, Irina also wants to know the story behind every scar, wants to know what her favorite childhood memory is. Why she dresses like a pirate, and what happened to her family. If she’s ever been in love before.If she’s in love now.—Irina never believed in love. It was an impossible idea, steeped with too much romanticism and not enough practicality. Even if such a thing did exist, surely it was for the feeble minded and naive.Love was a curse that happened to other people. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “It’s just odd is all,” he says to her, voice all low and hesitant like he thinks she’ll attack him for a sudden noise.“What is?” she murmurs back, letting her fingertips skate across the smooth, metal wall. There has to be a way out. After all, they were thrown in somehow.On the opposite wall, Jack is doing the same, “That you’d go by a different name than the one your parents gave you.”And in Ness’ case, she can see his confusion. Other people, those not fond of their parents or their childhood, would be more than happy to shed the name on their birth certificate. Which is an understandable and respectable way of life. But Ness looks back at the past as a place she will always yearn for, no matter the fact that she can never return.The name her parents gave her is the last she has of them. She hasn’t used it in years.Ness’ fingertips catch on a seam in the wall, so thin that she can barely dig her nails into it. But barely is just enough, and she rips the panel out, heedlessly tossing it to the floor of their cell with a resounding crash.Jack, startled, growls but he catches himself mid-shift. His canine snout returns to being a perfectly human face.In contrast, Ness has let her hands change fully into paws and claws.“I haven’t been their daughter for a long time.”—Neither of them are entirely sure what made them successes out of the thirty experiments in their group. There are a few others who survived the treaments, but none on their level.It’s not like either of them are genetically predisposed to be metahumans–though that is undoubtedly what they are now.There’s a doctor who is known for taking in metahumans in need. Maybe she’ll help them.They never make it to her.—Someone finds them first.—“Jackal and Lioness,” the woman they once knew as MX18 says while her witch lackey holds them down against the ground invisibly. They are struggling and snarling, only animalistic on the inside, Jack snapping his blunt human teeth and Ness scraping dirt beneath her soft human nails.Neither of them are in the mood to talk.That doesn’t stop MX18.“You didn’t think I’d forgotten about you, did you?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- She startles awake, body jerking, arms flailing wildly enough that she accidentally punches the wall next to her. She gasps, lungs desperately heaving, and doesn’t cry even though her knuckles are in absolute pain.Nothing that requires Yasmine’s sharp eyes and even sharper bedside manner, but maybe she should lay off any fighting. Pass it on to Violette–she enjoys that sort of thing.A knock comes from the opposite side of the wall. Cathy, no doubt, awake at this late hour and working on her latest program, curious about the noise of their shared wall.Tanj knocks back with her other hand, a quick staccato that gives the all clear. She taps back a solid one two in acknowledgement and leaves Tanj to the silence.Tanj almost wishes she hadn’t, but there’s a limit to how much she’s willing to reveal about herself.Then again, joining this team has already crossed it.—The reason why Tanj goes by that is because she has no idea what her real name is. All she knows is that one day she woke up in a warehouse full of outfits and wigs and make up with the knowledge that everything was hers. According to the deed, the warehouse is a storage facility for T&J Productions which would maybe be right except for how, on further inspection, there is no such thing as T&J Productions.But it’s a start, enough of one to name herself for it, and that’s the best she’ll let herself hope for.—Given her changeable nature and blank origin, nothing about Tanj’s life is certain. Which is why when she shrugs to a question, she’s not being cheeky or insolent or disrespectful–she’s being as honest as she possibly can. Irina is the first op leader to understand that, and so when she broaches the idea of a more permanent team, Tanj doesn’t reject the offer.That being said, she’s surprised at private everyone is. Nothing on her, of course, because if she doesn’t know her own secrets how could anyone else? But still, it’s damn impressive.Of the team, Irina was the only one she had ever personally worked with before. Though most everyone in the field has contracted work from Cathy, and she has run into Violette a time or two–not on the same job, but thankfully not on conflicting ones, either. She’s not entirely sure she fully trusts the other two:Yasmine matches the description of someone who she thought was just an urban legend. The bloody kind. And, frankly, given her skills with a scalpel and a syringe, Tanj wouldn’t put it beyond her.But Frances? She might as well not have existed before this team.—Violette shares her suspicions, though her focus is more on Yasmine’s possible hit count than absence of Frances’ background. Which is fair, Tanj can’t expect everyone to know the importance of nothing–one could say she’s a master of it.But at least Violette is entertaining her worries, Cathy and Irina don’t seem to see the problem. The former because, if it weren’t for her membership on the team, she’d be the closest thing to a neutral entity in the industry. The latter? Well, it’s almost as if she doesn’t want to see the problem.Her friend and boss is in love with a liability. Tanj can do nothing to stop the inevitable heartbreak.—A part of her worries that she is blowing this out of proportion. Maybe Frances really is just that secretive, and surely all of them have done terrible things in the past like Yasmine. Why would she want to break up such a good thing? For all she knows, maybe the best thing that has happened to her.But having nothing means being suspicious of everything. Especially someone as empty as her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- In a back alley of a side street in a rundown block of a near forgotten neighborhood is a small shop owned by Regina Monarch. Though, of course, no one knows it as such.The shop’s sign is constantly turned to “CLOSED,” and the lights of the store room are always off; the door remains locked and the bell forever silent. But upstairs, oh, that is a different story.Because upstairs is where the magic happens.—“Get out of my room!”A pincushion sails through the air and bounces–harmlessly, of course, the points of the needles sheathed safely within–off of Galileo’s face. He catches it before it falls to the floor, reflexes and the instincts making it easy.Instead of doing as bidden, like a contrary cat, he slinks forward, stepping carefully across the floor until he can rest one hip against Regina’s work table.“Can I see what you’re working on?” he asks, inanely, for he can already see the fabric beneath her hands and the head of her sewing machine.“No,” she replies, equally contrary, though it doesn’t amount to much.Galileo tilts his head, trying to decipher the shape and pattern and color. “Is that for me?”“No,” she repeats, pulling the fabric across the plate and watching the needle stitch in furious jabs. Once finished, she holds it up–the shape of a bodice in a purple so dark it looks almost black. “This wouldn’t really fit your aesthetic, now would it?”Galileo’s suit is designed to make him look more masculine–broaden shoulders and emphasize muscles–to differentiate the shape of the mercenary King from the whipcord thin Galileo. Which is not to say that Galileo has never needed to put on a corset for a job.“Who is it for, then? A customer?” Because Regina Monarch’s shop only really serves one entity, and that is the identity that they created together.“A gift for our new partner,” she says, before carefully putting down the bodice and pulling up a photo on her tablet.Galileo stares at the blurry shot of a robbery from earlier today, an out of focus green-haired girl slightly off-center.“Isn’t she one of the heroes?”Regina smiles, and musingly says, “Not for long, I think.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- In a blank, empty room, Bastian sits.His arms bound together, his legs tied to the chair. He waits. The fluorescent lights fading him out to a pale mirage.On the other side of the observation glass, the team watches him. Most of the team, anyway. One of their number is conspicuously missing.“Where is she?” Bastian calls out, even though he’s not supposed to be able to sense them through the soundproof walls.Or maybe he can’t and is just talking to himself.Either way, it’s unnerving.“Where is she?” he repeats, louder, beginning to shift in his bindings–slowly, calmly, as if testing the strength of it.Henry glances at his stepbrother, not quite worried, but seeking confirmation.“It’ll hold,” Caleb says, “I can’t even get out of those.”“I can’t fry them, either,” Tetsuki adds, because with the kind of stunts they’ve seen Bastian pull off, that’s not something they can entirely discount.“Where is she?” Bastian asks again, words stretching out, syllables liquid and lazy and patient.“Shouldn’t she be here?” Hari asks from the corner of the room he’s staked out for his own, back jammed against the wall. Of the four of them, Bastian has hurt him the most–all of Goldheart’s attacks close range and physical.“No,” Starling answers, briefly and simply, and the rest of the team falls in line.Until, suddenly, Bastian’s head tilts to the side, listening to an imaginary noise. His mouth stretches into a smile.“Leanne!”The team startles, but Henry always has to be two steps ahead, doesn’t have the luxury of being startled, “Goldheart, Thunderbolt, go out there–if she’s here, take her away. Find out why she’s come, who tipped her off. She should still be at Doctor Kaiza’s now. And send some uniforms in here. Zenith, with me. We’re escorting him back to his cell.”Hari and Tetsuki move to leave, soldiers following orders; Caleb steps back and to the side instinctively to guard Henry’s flank.“Leanne!” Bastian calls out again, energized. Eager.“And make sure they bring a muzzle!” Henry shouts after them, before turning to his stepbrother. In the space between them, he says, ever so quietly, worried and confused, “What is she doing here? She shouldn’t be here.”Bastian may have hurt Goldheart most often, but the one he’s hurt the worst?It’s always been Leanne. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Honestly, I don’t really care,” she says, voice so bland and face so blank, that it can’t be anything but the truth.He laughs. At her fearlessness–not courage, no, for that would require fear to be brave–at her lack of emotion, her emptiness. It’d be infuriating if it weren’t also beautiful.“They won’t be able save you,” he warns, futilely, because he knows it won’t affect her.Maroon shrugs, or does her best approximation of one as she can while her hands are tied together behind the back of her chair.“I don’t need them to.”Again, Bastian laughs; his shoulders shaking uncomfortably against his own bindings.—Here’s the thing: both of them were aiming at someone else, went at each other for being in the cross hairs, and in their distraction were both arrested.“Who were you going for?” Bastian asks, because there’s not much else to do but talk to a fellow prisoner.Or ignore them. Maroon stays silent.“I’ll show you mine,” he adds for incentive.She scoffs, “Everyone knows who yours is,” Maroon says, and she’s not wrong. While Bastian’s motivations have always been a mystery to the people of this age, his goals have always been straightforward.“Poor girl,” Maroon continues, blunt but sincere, “Having a mad dog on her trail.”Bastian snarls, heedless of the obvious, immediate connection, “Leanne doesn’t need your pity.”Maroon smirks, the first hint of an expression on her face, “Do you?”—At about two thirty in the morning, the cameras aimed at the precinct’s holding cells stutter briefly before beginning a fifteen minute loop. A high pitched whistle is the only warning either of them get before, with a boom, the outside wall of Bastian’s cell suddenly ceases to be.“Took you long enough,” Maroon calls out, standing up from her cot.Bastian, confused and shaken out of his slumber, nonetheless prepares himself for a fight.“Sorry, boss,” a young woman’s voice calls back, before someone–two someones, identical someones–step in through the massive hole, “We had to shake Thunderbolt–she’s always been tenacious.”Bastian processes the scene. “I thought you said you wouldn’t need them to save you,” he shoots at his fellow prisoner, unimpressed.In response, somehow, impossibly, Maroon steps through the bars of her cell then his, as if she were nothing more than just a hologram. Which is, grudgingly, impressive.“I don’t,” she says simply, before gesturing at him, then the twins, “They’re here to save you.”“Your Majesty,” the twins say in unison, before bowing.He laughs. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “He’s a menace,” she spits out, mouth twisted and eyes narrowed.And Cathy would assume that was it, had her sister not continued, “But I suppose he thinks the same of me. Which is fair enough.”“And that’s why you work well together?” Cathy asks, curiously, confused.Her sister sighs, voice going soft in a way Cathy doesn’t and might very well never understand, “We’re perfect together.”—It’s straight out of a B-list action flick, or an airport novel, or even a bright and colorful cartoon series, but unfortunately for her it’s real life: Cathy Xanthe is from a family of secret agents.Her parents were partners, the best of the agency in their prime, apparently, while her sister is on track to be the same with her own partner.Cathy prefers a more… hands off approach. The world is steadily becoming more and more digital–why use guns and chit chat when a string of code can get you what you want far more efficiently? And, well, computers don’t require nearly as much emotional upkeep as a partner does.—Cathy prides herself on being a fairly neutral force in the industry. She’ll code for any party, provided her fees get paid of course, with the understanding that, well, no hard feelings if she’s paid to break it the next day. All of her jobs are one-offs, and while she might have repeat clients, they know better than to expect any loyalty from her.Which is why everyone is surprised when she accepts Irina Aubrey’s offer. No one more than her, she’s sure.She’s not entirely sure what made her take it–an ongoing job as a member of a team, of all things–but it’s not entirely without perks. Aubrey has a very nice set up ready for her, and has assured her that, so long is its not actively against the team’s missions, then Cathy can continue her side business.Which is good, because even if her neutrality has been compromised, Cathy’s not going to let her presence diminish.—The whole “everyone’s allowed their secrets” is an absolute load of rot. Especially given that basically everyone on the team has decided to use their real name. Or near enough to it.For Cathy that’s just strategic–her name is her brand and her shield–but it’s not the same for everyone else. Aubrey, she knows is from an old money old world Family–though with the obvious pseudonym, she’s not quite sure which one–the kind that would view the Kelleys and the now-extinct Falcones and crass upstarts. She’s too used to being listened to, and considering she’s paying for the entire facility out of her own pocket, maybe, she has good reason to.Tanj–and as far as Cathy can find, that is her only name–is a fairly well known player in the industry. Not someone Cathy’s worked with previously, but she has a decent reputation. If it weren’t for their vastly differing methodologies and philosophies about crime, she probably would have proposed a permanent partnership before. There’s something appealing about the idea of having a master of disguise do all the groundwork: though perhaps, she’s leaning too far on her family’s daring tales of adventure.Violette Jones she has worked with before, actually, in a second-hand way. Cathy remembers the old hunched over man who also went by Jones. All scars and whipcord muscles and a complete lack of technical knowledge, but the wisdom at least to make sure his protege would be functional in the future. It was an annoying three weeks of teaching the two of them the basics, which should have been one week if it weren’t for their combined sheer incompetence. Oh, good people, definitely. The kind of people she’d want on her side in a fight for sure. But by god.It’s Yasmine that scares her the most, actually, and not for the reasons one would think. There’s not much an unofficial surgeon can do without stepping over the line, and Cathy had always maintained her neutrality. Crime is crime and profit is profit, sometimes you just have to close your eyes. But Yasmine Odell is–either knowingly or not–using the name of a dead man who saved her parents lives on multiple occasions. And Cathy believes in paying one’s debts–especially the those of the life owing variety.As for Frances? Ah, well, that is an amusing story, isn’t it?—“Going out,” Cathy says, waving at Violette who nods back and resumes watch.No tech genius, sure, but the Jones name has always been synonymous with security (whether giving it or breaking it) and Cathy can think of far less fortified places to work from.Tonight, though, is a delivery for one of her outside clients. She can’t host this deal in Aubrey’s place. Considering who the client is, that would just be in bad taste.It only takes fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant where they’ll meet up, but Cathy takes twenty. She’s not beholden to anyone but herself.Certainly not the head of The Flock. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Will you take them?” A small, quiet question. Pleading, but prideful, more demand than request.You let your fingers fall to the desk, to the photo of the twins, young and solemn and scared. How long has it been since you had partners? Years? Decades? Human lifespans are so short.Your last partner is long passed, now, and her descendants unable to carry the burden–the gift! (the curse)–of being your new partner. But these girls, these twins, these witches to be.Alone, maybe not. Your power has only gotten stronger, and magic has declined amongst humans, replaced by their own unique abilities. But together?Together it might work.“Perhaps,” you say, identical faces looking blindly up at you. To you.“If you do,” Mackenzie says, stubborn, voice thready with worn down age, “Keep them safe,” no need for a threat, or promise.You don’t respond, no promises on your end either, but you’ll try your best.After all, what creature wouldn’t do their best for their child?-There is something ritualistic in the gathering. The circle and the telling and the creation. Worlds and conflicts and characters springing to life from paper and pencil and plastic.We can be anything during these times. We can do anything.Stories, small, but moving. And isn’t that what stories are for? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Mandatory therapy.And that’s just.Well that’s just fucking peachy, isn’t it? After the absolute clusterfuck that this entire month has been.Eating like an asshole college student, living off of cheap ramen and energy drinks. Sleeping only when the sheer weight of exhaustion threatens to smother me to death.At one point I literally forgot how to count to ten, but that was fine considering all you need to keep the beat is an eight count and there are only five people on my team.Were.But it’s all fine.Now I get to waste an hour every week talking to a stranger who’s just doing this to fill some bullshit quota from the court.Mandatory therapy.Like any amount of therapy can fucking help.—“Wow,” says what’s-her-face, I don’t need to know her name, just the time and place of these damn meetings, “You look fucking exhausted.”“No shit, dumbass,” I spit back, before the words catch up to me. Fuck. Is that going to get back to the judge?… wait a second. Is she even allowed to talk to me like that?“Today’s meeting clearly isn’t going to do fuck-all for anyone,” she says, calm, and maybe this past month has altered my brain to the point where I can’t even hear normal sentences without cussing being sprinkled in. Auditory hallucinations. That’s a thing, I think?“Take a nap,” she says, waving over at the deflated, lumpy turd of a couch. It looks like she scavenged it from the curb, or ransacked some color-blind old lady’s dumpster.It doesn’t smell like it, which is something at least; I check before taking a seat directly in the middle.“What, really?” I ask, before tipping over to lay across the couch.“Well I’m pretty sure you’re not going to tell me shit, so you might as well,” she says with a shrug. And, well, yeah. She does have a point.Another wave, this one dismissing, “I’ll wake you up in fifty minutes.”Normally, I can’t sleep around strangers–definitely not without my team to watch my back–but it’s as if now every time I get anywhere near horizontal my brain just switches off. The quiet and, admittedly, soothing sounds of paperwork don’t help much either.I try to stay awake–pretty sure I even manage to do so for ten minutes–but it’s as if I just blinked and suddenly what’s-her-face is calling my name and waking me up. Good instincts, to not touch me. I don’t know what would’ve happened.“Nap time’s over, Mister Ives,” she says, and there’s something about it that just.“Don’t,” I cough out, throat clogged and gritty with even that little amount of sleep, “Don’t call me that.”She sends me a look, unimpressed and annoyed, “I’m not fucking calling you Apex.”She may as well have slapped me. “Not that either,” because I don’t need that shit right now, “Just call me Curtis, Jesus fucking Christ.”“Well that’s not my name,” she says, and that’s… is that a fucking joke?“I’m Simone Tallis. For when you get sick of calling me what’s-her-face in your head.”Lucky guess.“Now get the fuck out of my room. This session’s up.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Second session, no way am I going to fall asleep.For one, in the week since that first session it seems like I’ve done nothing but catch up on my sleep debt.For two, I’m pretty sure napping during my mandatory therapy isn’t allowed. Or it’s a massive waste of taxpayer money. My money? My insurance company’s money?Whatever.For three? I’m not a fucking toddler that needs to be put down for a nap whenever I have a tantrum. I’m a grown ass adult, I can stay awake and not talk about my fucking feelings for an entire hour.I’m going to ice out what’s-her-face.—“Hey catch,” I hear the second I step through the door, and a box of cards come flying in my direction.Super speed isn’t one of my gifts, and I’m not expecting it. Still, it’s pretty embarrassing when it just hits me in the chest and falls to the floor, hands coming up too late to do shit.What’s-her-face looks at the box on the floor then up to me, skepticism blatant and unflattering.She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to say anything.Super powered vigilante Apex can’t catch a box of cards even with warning. Clearly, her expression says, if it’s not punching something or jerking off, my hands are fucking useless.“I was gonna suggest we play cards, if you wanted something a little more active than nap time,” she says, tone edging into sarcasm, “but if this is the kind of swift reaction times I can expect from you today, I can just put on some music and do more paperwork.”Growling, I bend down to pick up the cards, and I can feel the heat on my face. God, am I blushing? This is just fan-fucking-tastic. I kick the door closed behind me–strong enough to slam but not enough to break it–and sit on one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table from her.“Just deal,” I say, tossing the deck onto the table, watching it spin and slide over to what’s-her-face, “As long as it’s not Go Fish.”There aren’t many card games that function well with only two people. Bullshit is out, as is Crazy Eights. Poker we try for three rounds before giving up, Blackjack for two. Speed might work if it weren’t for the fact that, if I were to slap something–the table or what’s-her-face’s hand–I’d end up breaking it and that fairly counterproductive. And shitty.She’s in the middle of teaching me gin rummy–or fleecing me at gin rummy–when a soft chime sound off from her desk.She glances at the clock and begins packing up the cards even though she hasn’t finished her explanation.“Time’s up, Curtis,” she says, and for a second I look up at her in confusion, “See you next week.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The thing is, it doesn’t make sense for me to have therapy. I’m not the one who needs it.And I don’t mean that in a “therapy is for crazies” way.It’s just that I’m not allowed to cry.And I don’t mean THAT in a “real men don’t cry” way.It’s just that, in comparison to what Alvin’s lost, to what Doc has lost–hell, even that fucking cat burglar, though no way she’d end up in a position where a judge would send her to therapy instead of straight to jail.In comparison to them, my loss isn’t that bad. Barely anything.I don’t get to cry over a paper cut when everyone else has a bleeding gut wound.Metaphorically speaking, of course.I’ve never gotten a paper cut in my life.—“Are we actually going to talk today?” I ask, sitting, waiting. I’ve wised up to what’s-her-face’s plans and I’m not going to fall for it.She looks at me skeptically. She’s always looking at me skeptically.Then again, it’s not like I’ve done anything impressive in this room.“Do you want to?” she asks, instead of answering. And doesn’t that just rankle.“Fuck no,” I spit out, like the very thought is disgusting.“Then we won’t,” she says simply and. That’s just.“What the fuck are you here for then?” I ask, getting to my feet, and now her look is changing. Now she looks afraid.As she should be, Apex can punch through solid steel.That just makes me angrier.“What the fuck am I here for? What’s the fucking point of all of this?”It’s tempting to just throw the chair against the wall. To pick up the entire table and throw it. There is rage and frustration and sometimes you just want to break something.Usually there’s a villain’s face that needs punching, or an army of killer robots.Here in this room it’s just me and what’s-her-face and all her shitty government subsidized furniture.“How is this fucking helping anything?” I shout and I can feel my throat close up, my voice crack, “This can’t change shit.”There’s a tin of individually wrapped candies on her desk. It hardly weighs a thing, but the spray of bright colors against the wall is soothing in its own way.What’s-her-face looks calm again, as if she knows that childish minor outburst was enough to vent.I sit back down.“I don’t want to talk,” I say, ashamed.She stands up, walks around her desk.For a moment, I think she’s going to go for the door. Get out of range of the mad meta. That would be the smart thing.Instead she goes to where the candy tin has fallen, kneels down and begins picking up the little wrapped colorful pieces.Musingly she says, “I hate the blue ones,” as if that were at all related to what just happened, “I mean, what is blue supposed to be? The other colors make sense, red is cherry, orange is orange, yellow is lemon, green is lime… or green apple I suppose, and purple is grape. But what the hell is blue supposed to be?”Some of the pieces have bounced back to land near me. Even more ashamed I crouch down to help her pick them up.“Not that artificial cherry or grape taste good, but at least they correspond to actual fruits. It’s not as if the blue ones are blueberry flavored.”The tin is dented slightly–super strength aside, it was like trying to throw a feather and the impact was less than stellar–but still functional. Carefully we both gather our sugary loot before going back to our seats.“Here,” she says, holding out a candy to drop into my hand.It’s blue.“You just said how shitty these were,” I snort, but begin unwrapping it anyway.“No, I said I hated them. They’re pure sugar trying to be a color, that’s just wrong.”“So what, you’re foisting them off on me instead?”“You have one, and I’ll have one, and we’ll both decide what bullshit fake fruit they’re trying to be,” she has a blue candy in her hands, too.Thirty minutes and the session ends with no agreement as to whether the blue candy is meant to be bubblegum or blue raspberry. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- This is the pertinent fact of the matter:We were five and now we are three.Put like that, it doesn’t sound too bad. The team used to be only three before. Now we’re back to original numbers, if not the original line-up.Alvin and Brian and I–we were three, once.Then came Joy, on an intermittent basis, then Leanne from decades in the future.Five mismatching parts trying to make a whole.Then goodbye to Leanne, gone as quickly as she came. Goodbye to Brian who always tried to reach beyond himself.Goodbye five.Three doesn’t seem enough anymore.—Outside the door to what’s-her-face’s room, I hesitate.It’s not a sudden realization, or even a slow creeping one, but rather a reorientation of attitude.There is no point in continuing the one-sided petulance. It’s more energy than it’s worth. And who does it help? Not what’s-her-face, and certainly not me.I still don’t think I should be here. But I’m here and being an asshole isn’t going to change that.Before I can get a hand on the doorknob, what’s-her-face opens the door.She doesn’t look surprised to see me.“Ah, good idea, Curtis. Just a second,” she says, gesturing with one hand, before shutting the door in my face.I stare, stupidly, until she opens the door again, this time with a jacket and scarf on.She locks the room behind her and walks to the end of the hallway.“Well, come on!” she prompts, waving me over.I follow, bewildered.Outside the building, the weather is chilly. Weak winter sun filtering down through the clouds, but harsh winds more than making up for it. Our breaths puff out as quickly vanished steam.“What are we doing?” I ask, confused. It seems like today is the day of confusion.“Have you eaten, Curtis?” she asks, “I’m hungry.”It’s three in the afternoon.I say as much out loud.“That is neither an answer or an argument. Come on, there’s a diner at the end of the block.”“Is this allowed?” I ask, but follow her anyway. I could always go for pancakes.“It’s your therapy,” she says with a shrug.The diner is one of those old relics, clean but aged poorly–not one of those fashionably retro places. I’m not sure if it’s empty because of the time or because of unpopularity. Regardless, I’m always up for some pancakes.It’s a mostly quiet session, consisting of eating noises and the casually indifferent check ins from the waiter.At the end, Simone pays for the check and leads us back before the hour is up. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- I remember the early years with fondness, grief, and no small amount of embarrassment.The three of us were boys. Weird, stupid boys with more power than sense and the worst taste in food.It’s amazing that Doc hadn’t just thrown us to the wolves and been done with us.(That’s not a pun about Alvin, by the way.)We were high on the adrenaline, the thrill of being young and being heroes and making a change in the world. We fought bad guys, foiled their schemes, wrapped them up for the authorities to deal with, and went on our way as if there were no repercussions.Stupid.Joy made us see that things weren’t nearly so black and white. We grew and we learned and––and Leanne arrived just in time to see everything begin to crumble.—No field trip today. Which is just as well. I’m feeling chatty: I’ll talk, but not about what happened.What happened can’t be changed, why talk about it?“I know a Simon,” I begin, taking charge for once in these sessions. If she’s surprised at all, it doesn’t show on her face.“He’s Al–uh, Silverfang’s boyfriend. Shit,” I stutter, uncertain. My identity–neither of them–isn’t a secret, but the same cannot be said of the rest of my team.It’s hard to keep track of who knows what.Well, it was. There’s less to keep track of now.“I know who Alvin is,” she assures, simply, and gestures for me to continue.“Yeah, so, Simon. Alvin’s boyfriend. I used to think that was hilarious because of the chipmunks. You know, all they were missing was a Theodore. But then I thought about it more and I realized that’s weird because aren’t the chipmunks brothers?”The words flow out of me too quickly for her to answer, not that there’s much of an answer to give.“And why is it called Alvin and the Chipmunks anyway? Isn’t Alvin a chipmunk, too? It’s kind of redundant. Then again, I guess Alvin and his two brothers isn’t exactly catchy. Though it’s still pretty shitty considering it’s like saying oh, hey, you two we don’t really care about you. Just do some backup vocals for Alvin. Now he’s the real money maker.The chipmunk, not the real Alvin. Al is basically the trashiest person to ever live. I swear one time I found him eating pizza he fished out of a dumpster. And you’d think what with the whole enhanced sense of smell that’d put him off, but it was an entire free pizza that someone tossed out because it was also a proposal pizza.And who does that? Who thinks–oh, hey, I’ll propose marriage via pizza what could possibly go wrong? I mean, the eating dumpster pizza thing is still fucking gross never mind that it had still been warm in the box and untouched, but I already knew that about Al so it’s not like I was too surprised.But the proposal pizza–the pizza proposal?–that’s just. And it wasn’t even any of the fancy toppings, either. Just pepperoni. Like, shell out for some gourmet chicken or whatever. Honestly, who does that?Then again, if it were up to Al, he’d do a pizza proposal. Or, you know, try to. Except I’m pretty sure that even Al knows that Simon’s too classy for a pizza proposal. Joy would definitely shut that shit down before it took off. Nothing but the best for her baby brother. Never mind that they started dating before she joined the team.”“Joy?”Shit.“Yeah… Simon’s older sister…”I fucked up.There are only two women on the team. Were. Jaguar and Anachron.One of them is a reformed cat burglar (pun, annoyingly enough, intended). The other is a time traveller that has already disappeared.Neither of them are public with their identities. Not that it would matter for Leanne.Shit. I fucked up real bad.I should have just kept talking, the silence is really fucking conspicuous.“… I’d at least spring for multiple pizzas, if I were going to do a pizza proposal,” Simone says, slowly, as if the silence had a function to let her consider such a hypothetical and not a complete fuck up on my part.Still, I take the out for what it is, and continue my word barf.“Right? And pepperoni wouldn’t have worked, anyway, because Simon’s a vegetarian…”By the end of the session, my throat feels sore from talking about absolutely nothing and I only slipped up the once.As a parting gift, Simone tosses me a bottle of water–which I do catch–and, considering there’s not hint of it on the news the next morning, does not pass along valuable intel about still-wanted felon Jaguar. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It’s weird how quiet the city has been. Hardly any crime that the police can’t handle themselves, no meta threat that needs much more than just Apex showing up.Which is good.I love this city, I’ve fought hard to keep it safe, but I can’t say I don’t appreciate the calm.Even though, given the team’s numbers have been severely reduced, criminals should want to make a big move. Take advantage.But I’m grateful because I’m pretty sure if another crisis hits it’ll just be me facing it.Not that I’m afraid–Apex is indestructible,.Nothing can hurt me.—We’re halfway through the assigned sessions and while I’m definitely less pissed off at the very idea of therapy, that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable.Simone isn’t my friend. She’s my therapist.I’m distinctly reminded of that at this moment.The file she puts on the table between us, the file with my name on it, is a show of trust.Oddly, it also feels like a betrayal.“What the fuck do you want me to do with this?” I ask, hands curling into fists.Simone doesn’t look afraid at all. But I can’t tell if that’s just her game face.For all I know, she’s always had a game face on around me.“It’s been a month and a half,” she says instead of answering, which is typical and nonetheless stings, “since the judge assigned you mandatory therapy…”“I know. I was there,” and if there’s a snide tone in my voice then, well, I fucking wonder why that might be.Undeterred, she continues, “Aren’t you curious about your progress?”“No,” I say. I reach out for the folder anyway. “Doesn’t this defeat the purpose? Aren’t you supposed to keep this a secret from me?” I ask as I scan the first page–just basic info about me, a summary of judge’s mandate, the reason behind the therapy.“Not necessarily,” Simone says, “You’re a patient, not a lab rat. Keeping secrets from you isn’t going to help.”I flip to the second page, where the therapist’s notes are meant to begin.“This is bullshit.”“Is it?”“You wrote that I’m bad at poker. And that I like jam on my pancakes.”“Well,” Simone says dryly, “That is a weird thing to put on your pancakes.”“No it’s not!” I defend, reflexively, “And that’s not the point.”“What point?”“How is me thinking the blue candy is supposed to be blue raspberry going to help anyone?”“You say that a lot,” she says, always with her tangents.I sigh, frustrated, “Say what?”“You always bring up how something will or won’t help. How talking won’t help anything, how blue candy can’t help anyone, how you being here isn’t helping,” she looks at me, serious and steely and…Simone is not my friend. She’s my therapist.“You’re a person, Curtis” she says unexpectedly.“No shit,” comes out automatically.Her gaze turns sharper, somehow, “You’re not just a hero. You’re a person, too.”My hands have been flipping through the file, more inanities over the past five sessions written in Simone’s slanted handwriting.There’s a page that only has tally marks on the top. Five of them.“You’re allowed to grieve for your friends. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. You don’t have to talk to anyone if that’s how you feel. We can spend the next six sessions as we have the last few. I can fill pages of notes on your appalling taste in pancake toppings, or maybe I’ll bring in my hamsters for a session, or we can just sit quietly and not say or do anything."But do it because you don’t like me. Do that because you don’t like therapy. Burn through these sessions because they’re mandatory and you think they’re a waste of time. If you go home and cry and scream and punch things and mourn because you don’t want to do any of that in front of me that’s fine."Don’t stay quiet because you think that’s what you have to do. You’re allowed to grieve, Curtis.”Five tally marks on an otherwise blank page.Simone is my therapist, not my friend.Maybe that’s a good thing.Most of my friends are gone–gone to ground, gone back home, gone to the future, gone.We are quiet for a long time. If Simone is disappointed, she doesn’t show it.The chime from her phone sounds off, and the both of us stand.Before I leave, though, I say, “His name was Brian, but on the field he used Griever."He was my friend, and now he’s dead.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “These are beautiful,” he says, carefully teasing the stack of photographs apart. Spread out, they’re more tasteful, almost artistic, but the truth is–“These are blackmail,” she chides him, straightening them once more, tapping the edges for that added neatness. She hands him a camera–a little beaten up, scuffed and scratched in places, but still perfectly serviceable–and gives him a nod towards the door.“Off you go now,” she says, “time to earn our bread and butter.”—The envelopes are grey: light enough to blend in amongst all the mail being sorted at the post office, but dark enough to stand out to their recipients.And they match her name, of course.“Grey Investigations, how can I help you?” answers Jack to the phone cradled between his shoulder and his ear as he types away on his work laptop.The office is only a small fraction of the property she rents, the rest a warehouse fit to bursting with filing cabinets and opaque plastic bins built into formidable columns. Only some of them are evidence, the rest are red herrings and the overflow from next door’s cash and carry.They’ve been broken into three times in as many months–the property managers are getting irritated with her–but nothing of importance has gone missing.Still, it wouldn’t do for her only employee to be mugged or some such in retaliation. He has mace and a taser and height if not breadth, but perhaps its time for her to complete his training.Zelia surveys her small kingdom and smiles.—When she was young, magic was young–bright and eager and constantly at her fingertips, ready to make her imagination into reality, to turn her will into truth.Now, magic is sluggish, hibernating, waiting for the future where it will awaken lively once more. Her oldest friend even more powerful for the hiatus.It will be beautiful, truly.She will live for a long time, but not long enough to see that. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Witches don’t like her.That’s fine. She doesn’t much like witches either. The way they act as if their power actually means anything to her, like thunder in front of a mountain. She was immortal long before the resurgence of magic, ancient before they cobbled together laws and customs; children playing at adulthood.Little Faye Peridot still hates and fears her for taking away her sister. She’s the oldest luminary on the Premier Witch Council.Power is not what earns Kaiza’s respect and she’s lived so long, age means nothing to her.///Brian becomes her ward mostly by accident. It is one of her many regrets.If she had been more proactive about it, more clear about her affection for him, more available and open, less cold and objective, would anything have changed?Probably not. And even so, it’s too late.If she’s learned one thing over the centuries it’s that the only thing as bad as immortality inflicted on mortals is the ability to time travel.There be dragons, but at least dragons can be killed.///“Have mercy on me,” Nyx says, as elegantly out of place in Kaiza’s clinic as ever, “don’t you have any sympathy for a worried mother?”It’d help Nyx’s case more if she didn’t sound like she were reading from a particularly bland phonebook.“If ever I did,” Kaiza shoots back, “I’d have used it up on some other mother in far more need of it than you.”The list is long, there were tears and threats and fruitless, desperate bargaining. Kaiza has done worse to less deserving mothers, has felt guilt for greater crimes.“Suck it up, your daughter is going to school, not to war. She doesn’t need me playing guardian angel… And plus, mercy’s not really your thing, now is it?”No, she doesn’t have any sympathy for Nyx, the best Devil’s Advocate on this plane and the next.///She is so old that werewolf pack boundaries build around her, not the other way around. The Delano Pack to the northeast, with the sprawling forests and rocky mountains, the Chand Pack to the southwest towards Cadmium City and the coast.Her clinic and, by extension, the town of Belleview which also grew around her is not neutral territory. It’s her territory.Or so the alphas of both packs say, shoulders back and nostrils flared. Ready to fight her, each other, anyone who so much as makes eye contact.Peace between packs is more important than her growing irritation, but only just.“You might as well just combine packs. Then there wouldn’t be anymore boundary issues,” she says, exasperated by all the useless back and forth. She may be needling them just a little: she almost wants a fight to break out just so she has a reason to smack them down.Instead, both alphas respond with considering noises.In three decades she will be reluctantly impressed by their chosen heir.///Every year, on the anniversary of her curse, she gets an envelope from Grey Investigations.What a waste of paper, she thinks, as she throws it away. Jack should know better by now.But Jack always was an optimistic idiot.It’s what got them cursed in the first place. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- There’s a card on your window when you wake up in the morning, eight pointed star and smaller, repeating fractals in alternating black and white and silver.The scariest thing isn’t that you recognize the symbol–though it’s been years since you’ve seen it–but that the card is on your window.On the inside of your window.They were inside your house.They’ve found you.///When you were younger, you were praised for being powerful, for being smart, for being charming.“You’d be a wonderful spell caster,” your mother said.“What about a summoner?” your aunt offered instead.“Healers are always in high demand and greatly regarded,” your grandmother added, and you nodded in agreement.You could have been anything, but you chose to be a diviner.You chose wrong.///As the abilities of individual witches grew–tied to the earth or bloodlines or other tangible, reachable things–beliefs changed.Religion became superstition became silly old bedtime stories.The gods were forgotten and the divine faded from memory.Or so the public thinks.///You can’t hide from them forever.You never thought you could. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “So angry,” Allen says with his easy, genial smile, a softer version for so early in the morning. He’s fond of her and her brother, still thinks of them as the orphan kids who asked to live in the room above his bakery years and years ago.“A coffee and pastry would help with that,” she responds, grumpy, but with far less bite than she would with most anyone else.She’s pretty fond of him, too.Allen shakes his head, tuts at her; the flour in his hair blends in with the patches of gray and white. He still thinks of her as a kid, but she also sometimes forgets how old he really is.“You need sleep, not caffeine and sugar. And I need to bake today’s bread, not babysit a brat. Upstairs with you now, your brother’s waiting.”It’s not Allen’s fault that’s a lie.///She hears it a lot–You don’t look very happy.Or,Shouldn’t you smile more, then?Or, even,Your parents were pretty wrong about that.–the last one usually causes her to lash out, parents are a touchy subject for good reason, but it’s not exactly inaccurate.There’s not a lot in her life that matches her name.///The world has gotten a lot stranger in the past year or so. Or perhaps it’s always been strange and only now she’s beginning to notice, only now it’s beginning to resurge.Regardless, she prides herself on being the best; on being so skilled that rumors whisper maybe something is strange about her, too.It’s sheer competence, mostly, with some engineering and parkour of course. And luck, she’d grudgingly admit.Still, she makes a name for herself, one much larger than herself, and for a while she thinks that’s enough.One night she runs into a man who can turn into a literal wolf.Luck isn’t enough.///She always loves the wrong people.People who will leave her–whether they want to or not. People who would rather see her in jail than free. People who could never make her happy.When she meets Ann, she thinks this time will be the exception.And for a while, it is.Just a little while.Ann doesn’t mean to leave her, doesn’t want to leave her, but leave she does.(A decade later, Joy will realize that even if Ann had stayed it wouldn’t have worked. Normal people falling in love with gods rarely ends happily) ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- If you’re doing it right, no one will ever thank you for doing your job.If you’re doing it right, no one will ever know.But still, it’s something that needs doing. If you don’t do it then who will?///“Aren’t you tired?” your cousin asks you, as you creep into the house at three in the morning.You don’t much feel like confrontation now, shrugging off your jacket which weighs too heavily on your shoulders, sodden and dark. It squelches against the floor, and you know your aunt will pitch a fit if it ruins the hardwood floor, so you kick at it half-heartedly until it’s on the massive dog bed instead.Eh.“You should be asleep,” you say to your cousin, blindly making your way into the kitchen. Your night vision is shot–an exploded tanker on the highway, seven dead–and for all your stupid supernatural responsibilities you hardly get any of the benefits. You’re hungry as hell.Well. You might be hungry as hell. You’re the only one in this house who has never been there.“First day of school tomorrow,” she responds, sheepishly, “I’m too nervous to sleep, and plus I was waiting for you, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”In the fridge there’s a tupperware of some kind of pasta, which is probably what dinner was tonight–you deliberately try to avoid those, still so uncertain in your place here–or, alternatively, a brick of cheese with an upcoming expiration date and a bag of pretzels that’s been untouched on the counter for two weeks.Your cousin chatters on, “Uncle Az said I should keep an eye out for you, since you don’t remember your limits and don’t take good care of yourself.”You shut the door firmly. Not so loud as to slam, noise echoing up and through the rest of the house where your aunt is sleeping, but definitive enough. Mackenzie presses her lips together, startled and a little afraid.“If my father wanted me to remember my limits or be safe or–” you scoff “–happy, he should have let me die as a normal human.”///Angels–or the supernatural beings that humans think of as angels–don’t often fall in love.They are devoted to their duty, to their god–or whatever high power humans think of as gods–and, frankly, are snobby, oblivious, sanctimonious assholes.Generally, it’s better for all involved if angels don’t fall in love: they’re horrible lovers and even worse parents. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When you were younger and a normal human–or, at least, thought you were a normal human–you lived with your mom.Your mom was actually a normal human, had normal human feelings and concerns: how to pay next month’s rent, trying to raise you all by herself, scheduling her two jobs and your childhood, and making sure the both of you were safe and fed and happyIt was a difficult life, but you were loved.Now you live in a mansion at least five times the size of your mom’s apartment with your cousin, your aunt, the giant dog which may or may not have three heads, and your aunt’s demonic servant.It’s awful.You miss the life you had before. You miss your mom. It’s not as if you can never see her, though–one of the rare perks of being a psychopomp–but you know the first thing out of your mouth won’t be “I love you, I miss you,” but instead “What were you thinking?”///When people think of Death, well. Usually they don’t think of Death as a person. As time passes, and belief in the old with it, Death is more construct–intangible, maddening, unknowable–than a person.For the few who think of Death as a person, beyond the fleeting euphemisms or poetry, they picture someone dark. Someone stoic and frightening, fierce yet implacable. The Grim Reaper, the harvester of human souls must be, after all, a dark serious figure.No one thinks of the Angel of Death as a drunk, deadbeat dad.And yet.///On the first day of school you are already exhausted, no doubt a blight upon the otherwise picturesque experience for your cousin.The school you went to before, in the heart of Cadmium City was in a vastly different income level, and had rusting chain link fences all around it. Everything here looks like a movie. Inside, you marvel at the walls–which aren’t even cardboard!–and the neat tiles of floor before a scent catches you.Not the industrial strength cleaner or the smell of hundreds of teenagers or even cafeteria smells. No, it smells like death. A lot of death.In about four months from now.Gods–if they do exist–damn it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It takes about three weeks to realize that this situation isn’t sustainable.The draw of your psychopomp responsibilities take you out at all hours, sleep and homework and even school be damned. Your sporadic attendance isn’t favorably looked upon, even if you weren’t constantly dozing during classes and just a step off from the perfect student ideal.Your cousin’s forehead is nearly constantly furrowed–confusion or frustration, you’re not sure which–and while your aunt could not be more pleased with your shiny new renegade reputation, that’s not exactly a vote of confidence.You have detention for the next four months–not that you’ll be going to them, afternoon is apparently a very popular time for dying in this town–but still, it’s the principle of the matter.Something’s gotta give. You’re afraid that something will end up being you.///A fire.That’s what killed you. You, your mom, and almost two dozen other residents of the Montenegro apartment complex.Faulty wiring, a particularly dry season, and exposed insulation going up like kindling. Fire escapes not up to code, people taking the batteries out of their smoke detectors, and no extinguishers to be seen.The news reported it as an accident: a horrific, compounding accident.When your father brings you back from the dead, he informs you that is false.///You don’t actually care, is the thing: you wonder if this has something to do with dying once, or if its the newly disclosed other half of your heritage.Psychopomps can’t afford to care. Emotions mean attachments, attachments mean mistakes, mistakes mean the difference between life and death.There are other kinds of attachments.You can’t get rid of all of them. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Your mom’s snores sound through the one room apartment you share, a familiar if somewhat irritating lullaby.This summer has been not only hot but humid, oppressive and thick on your lungs. You’ve left the windows open–no fear seven stories up–but there is not even the slightest of breezes to alleviate the misery. Instead, the smell of weed and urine waft your way, and your nose wrinkles in disgust.You’re writing an essay about a man long dead and cannot comprehend why this could possibly matter to your future.Your goals are not so lofty or beautiful as to be considered dreams, but you one day want to have a stable, comfortable life. One satisfactory enough to share with your mom, one to show her how grateful you are and how much you love her. One in which she would be proud of you–and maybe a place with separate bedrooms and soundproofed walls.Looking back, you realize that they were dreams: small and intimate, but still yours.Now they’re as useless as that essay of a man long dead.///There’s a trick, you realize, to speaking to your aunt and it is, simply, this: make sure your victory is also hers.There is no winning an argument against her, she’s a DA by nature and by trade–though the letters stand for different things entirely–but she is witty and sharp and, in this strange existence your father has doomed you to, fun in a reckless sort of way.She is, oddly enough, the most stable thing in your life right now and you appreciate it. Being a teenager is already tough without throwing in existential crises on death and the afterlife and religious, supernatural heritages.Last year, your biggest concern was whether or not you had enough lunch money for the week.This year it’s trying to figure out what massacre will happen and if you can possibly prevent it.Probably not–you’ve tried before, is the thing, and have yet to succeed–but maybe fate is exactly like your aunt.You don’t need to overpower fate, you just need to outmaneuver it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “What are you doing rummaging around my kitchen like a mouse? Stupid child,” she exhales, shaking her head. Still, she can’t help the small smile that curls the corner of her mouth.“Just like my father?” the little fool asks, petulant and pouting, not even looking up from the floor. The apple in her hand, a lovely pale pink, is nothing at all like sin.Nyx rolls her eyes. “No, dear, your father would never be allowed through the door of my house,” her words are harsh, but she tempers it with a gentle hand on her niece’s shoulder. “Now please sit and eat a proper meal. And don’t forget dessert–I pride myself on having a devil’s food cake to die for.”It’s a terrible pun, both ways in fact, but it makes the girl smile.///This is The Best. Year. Ever.No more homeschooling! Your mom is finally letting you go out to an actual real school with actual real people. You’ll get to meet normal kids and talk about normal things and have a normal life.Sure, your dog isn’t like other dogs, and your family isn’t like other parents. And you’re not entirely sure how to explain Grimaldo, your mom’s demonic minion, but you’re sure you’ll figure out something.That’s what school is for, after all, right?But the best thing is: this is the year you met your cousin. And she’s going to live with you. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Take a human soul–give it the ability to understand non-linear, infinite time. Give it a goal to obsess over. Give it a challenge, give it a would-be-martyr, give it the opportunity to ruin its own odds.Give it just the right amount of rage, a smidgeon too much of desperation, and a faint smattering of honest affection.Then say it failed.Then watch it grow.Now multiply it by three.—Some demons used to be human.But not all of them.—The woman in the sharp suit and perfectly coiffed red hair sits amongst the worst criminals of the region in a complete state of calm.She meets Venediktov’s eye and drains the entire teacup offered to her before rudely setting it upside down on the table. Of course, it’s not as rude as trying to poison a guest in the first place, so no one calls her out on it.“My client was reluctant to have me come here,” she begins, letting the upper echelons of the bratva settle themselves. “Not out of any fear for my safety,” she continues, not glancing at the teacup whatsoever, “but because she is, despite herself, a good person."I do this not out of any duty or obligation, not for money or revenge. I do this because there is so rarely a time when I can help my client, and frankly I think this will be a satisfying experience…"For me, that is,” she clarifies, when it looks like some of her audience has misunderstood her, relief trickling onto their faces before she bats it away.“Frankly, Venediktov, it may be kinder to just kill your son yourself,” she says which riles the group up once more. There are protests and threats–the harsh scrape of chairs against the floor–but none from the leader who sits and listen. How smart. Well, he didn’t get to his position by being stupid.“But I also understand what it’s like to have a child. Isn’t it terrible when they throw themselves into danger?”She does not say: you should have kept an eye on your son. You should have had a firmer hand. His transgressions will cost him greatly, he will wish he had died instead of suffer the punishment I have in mindWhat she does say is, simply, “Four tattoos.”Some of the bratva laugh, scornful–tattoos are part and parcel of their life, there is no punishment in needles and ink–but still Venediktov remains silent.“Your son fancies himself a handsome man. One here,” she lists, gesturing in a curve around her eye, “and here,” this time from cheek to cheek along her chin, “around his wrist,” she says with a graceful, if lazy rotation of her own, “and around his ankle,” she concludes, tapping the heel of her shoe against the ground in a sharp, punctuating knock.Venediktov closes his eyes and turns away.“So you are aware of what this means for your son’s fate,” Nyx smiles, before placing a simple business card on the table next to that overturned teacup. She stands.“You have three days to make your decision.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “The problem is,” begins Zelia, pen in hand and paper before her. She is a study in stillness, musing and wondering. The tableau is only broken by the frantic searching of her apprentice as he races back and forth across the warehouse for the items she told him to retrieve.Nyx thinks it hilarious. “The problem is?” she prompts.“The problem is,” Zelia repeats, “Is that he’s terribly powerful, a force unto himself, of course.”“Of course,” Nyx agrees.“But he’s also terribly stupid. He has no idea what he’s doing,” Zelia concludes, finally shaping her thoughts and transcribing them. It is less a letter and more a prophecy, glyphs drawn in corners to protect the information until needed.“Isn’t that how we all started out?” Nyx asks, ever the devil’s advocate.“Speak for yourself, demon,” Zelia scoffs, no bite in her words, “The Grey Witch is, has been, and will always be quintessential.”Nyx knows this is not a brag.—Find the line.Find the line that will lead you home.Find the line that will lead you home, beyond the dangers.Find the line that will lead you home, beyond the dangers, above the pain.Find the line and you will have nothing to fear.—“Immortality!” Zelia shouts, just one voice amongst an endless amount, “Immortality! That stupid boy!”On her left is an empty chair, grey of course, on her right sits her teacher whose face is in her hand, shoulders shaking.For a moment, Zelia is ashamed. Until she realizes her teacher is not crying, she’s laughing–then, Zelia just gets indignant.“What is so funny?” she asks. How can her teacher laugh in the face of this disaster? Proof that Zelia has chosen poorly, that her apprentice–stupid boy, tampering with high magic without having any clue of the consequences–will end what should be an infinite chain.The title of Grey Witch cannot be passed down if the holder becomes immortal.Lifetimes wasted, magic forever devastated, all because she chose an idiot who could not grieve properly.“Oh my darling Zelia,” her teacher says, “How I have failed you. The Grey Witch is not a line.It’s a circle.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The doorbell chimes and Jane, closest to the front entrance, calls out, “I’ll get it!”She can hear Will’s acknowledgement in response over the carols on the radio, the sound of her brothers arguing about the tree and Bran’s amused laughter.It’s been years since all of them have been together like this; she is so glad they managed to make it work this time.Jane opens the door, curling away from the gust of cold wind blowing in, instinctively, she draws her cardigan closer though it is only thin cotton and not much protection.The woman at the door is equally poorly dressed for the weather–not even a scarf!–but unlike Jane, she hardly seems to mind. As if she were immune to the cold, aware but uncaring of the weather.For a moment they stare at each other.“Hello?” Jane asks, which seems to shake the woman out of her stupor.“My apologies,” the woman says, accent flat and abrupt. American, then, how unusual. “Is Will Stanton available?”Jane blinks before flushing, embarrassed. Of course. This is Will’s place, after all, of course someone ringing the doorbell would be looking for him at his own flat. And then, she flushes harder.“Please, come in. Yes, he’s–I’ll just go get him, but please, come in. It’s cold out. Sorry, I’ve been terribly rude, I should have invited you in sooner.”“Thank you,” the woman murmurs, before stepping inside. Jane shuts the door, grateful to bask in the warmth. The woman does not do the same, as if outside and inside were indistinguishable.“Jane?” says Will, heading their way before she can go fetch him, “Who’s at the–ah,” he cuts himself off upon seeing the woman.Something about the air changes, and it has nothing to do with the temperature.“Maybe you should head over to the others,” Will says to Jane without taking his eyes off the woman, “Barney and Simon were one ornament away from a tussle and we both know Bran certainly isn’t going to stop them.”Jane, confused and a little relieved, just nods and goes.She looks back though; it almost looks like, instead of just one stranger and her childhood friend, there were two.///“My apologies for intruding on the festivities, Old One,” the woman who is not just a woman says to Will. Then she stops Time.He straightens reflexively, ready for an attack.None come.“It must be important,” he responds. Everything about his life as an Old One is important.The woman nods, “Important, yes, but not urgent.” Then she seems to change, diminish almost, as she adds, sheepishly, “Unfortunately, I have a flight in three hours and have been busy at a conference up until now.”The Will who is not an Old One understands–academia is not known for excellent time management, either.The woman reverts to her inhuman demeanor, “It was also harder to find you, earlier, without the other four Light ones.”Will can feel a glare form on his face, mouth tight, brows furrowing, “They’re human.”“And yet,” the woman says simply. After a beat, she shrugs. “A warning, though this is not what I am here for. For all that they are human, they… emanate Light. I do not know if you Old Ones still have enemies about, but they will be able to find your friends easily enough if you do not give them better protection.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small book which she hands over to him. “A gift, for the holiday, and to foster amity between us.”He senses power, but nothing Dark, and so he takes it: a book of wards. Nothing like the Book of Gramarye, of course, but useful in its own way.“The one who opened the door might be able to use it,” the woman suggests as he tucks it away for now.The idea of putting Jane–or any of his friends–in danger makes him brusque, “What is it that you are here for? You are not of the Dark, nor are you an Old One. What are you?”This time it is the woman’s turn to furrow her brows, “I was human once, too,” she says, nearly offended. “I don’t know if what I am has a name, but I have been called the Mountain Who Speaks.”A little bit of destiny rings in the title. Will nods and understands it as truth.“You are far from your land, Mountain.”“That is what I am here for,” says the Mountain Who Speaks, “Something will happen in my land years–decades, maybe even centuries–from now.”Important, but not urgent.“And you come seeking an alliance,” Will finishes.“Yes,” agrees the Mountain Who Speaks, “It will not be the grand battle that you had, for in my land there is no Light and Dark, but there will be trouble, and I would appreciate aid in keeping it contained.”The first part is confusing, but the last is what alarms him, “You foresee it spreading?”The Mountain’s expression becomes one of unimpressed skepticism, “I Speak,” she says bluntly, “I don’t See.”It is Will’s turn to be sheepish. “Ah, of course.” Even amongst Old Ones, Sight was not a common power.After a moment of understanding, the Mountain says, finally, “I will let you return to your party. Again, my apologies for interrupting. This was merely a courtesy call. I will leave you to make your decision, but I hope to speak with you more in the future.”She unstops Time, the sounds of his friends–safe and happy and completely unaware of the otherworldly, supernatural alliance being brokered in the cramped entryway of Will’s flat.Will opens the door so she can leave, neither of them flinching at the cold air that hits them. “Safe travels,” he says, not as an Old One but as regular Will Stanton.“Merry Christmas,” she says back, not as the Mountain Who Speaks, but as the human she once was.Which reminds him: “What is your name?” he asks belatedly and with no small amount of embarrassment.The Mountain smiles, “I am Ellen Kaiza.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- If I think about it–really, actually, think about it instead of running circles around it, blocking it off with a wall of denial and desperation–I’m the only one who really needed it.The team. The purpose. The life. Apex.Just because the three of us started together, doesn’t mean we started for the same reasons: Alvin had been an enforcer for the Chand pack for months, running patrols in the territory, protecting their share of the city. Brian was Doc’s ward–project or protégé, I don’t think even she knew which–and would have been satisfied with continuing that grand medical legacy.What did I have outside of invulnerability and super strength? What did I have outside of vigilantism? What did I have outside of Apex?But I had them. We had each other.Or, at least, I thought I did.—When a swarm of killer robots descend on Cadmium, I’m unsurprised.In the past few weeks there has been some action: a mayoral hostage situation, some meta powers activating during a bar brawl, a particularly confused coven of witches who temporarily transformed several downtown buildings into foodstuffs. Nothing too hard to handle as a solo vigilante with whichever CPD squad drew the short straw to be tasked as back up.But it’s been two months since anything major happened to the city… only a matter of time, right? Something Anachron might have said with a wry grin on her face, the chain of her watch coiled around her fingers.I shake my head at the thought–focus, Curtis. Focus, Apex.Luckily, I’m already there when they touchdown at city center. Unluckily, it’s because I’m there for this week’s session.It started off okay. Maybe I’ve reverted in some sense, since compared to what little I said last week of Brian, I was talking about how Joy and Leanne joined the team–but I think Simone approved. In her own way.But then, even before my communicator sounds off, Simone’s mouth twisted into one of grudging acceptance. The sounds of screams and screeching, twisting metal making it’s way into her office.With public safety on the line, Apex’s duties take priorities over Curtis’s needs.And doesn’t that just strike home.But now it’s fighting time. Solo fighting time.It’s hard. These kind of large scale events always are. But this one…Apex, of all the vigilante protectors Cadmium has benefited from, is the best at dealing with threats of this nature: for all her time traveling, Anachron is physically baseline human. Jaguar, too, is a baseline human specializing in stealth and speed. Griever’s power only works–worked–on biological creatures. And for all that Silverfang’s bite could pierce metal, doesn’t make it any more pleasant.Apex has super strength. Apex is invulnerable. Apex is alone.It’s hard. I’m not as fast as I want to be. There are more casualties, more property damage. I can’t be injured, but I can still feel pain.It’s in the wreckage of downtown, the red and blue lights of CPD’s clean up crew flashing, before any of the news reporters draw closer for questions. It’s in that moment where nothing feels real, nothing feels right, a ringing in my ears, and gasping desperate breaths. It’s in this that it crawls out of me, unconscious, almost unwanted:“I don’t want to do this anymore.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- related to this and this It started about four months ago, you think. (Although, given what the problem is, who’s to say for sure?)Four months ago is definitely when you first realized something was strange, at least, enough to make a record of it that you would be able to find again:Pencil on the back wall of your closet, hidden behind your winter jackets, revealed only because the weather has been getting a bit chilly. (Or, perhaps, you’ve just been feeling the cold more?)Don’t go to sleep, the note says in your own handwriting. They’ve already found you. You’re not forgiven.And below it, a horrifyingly familiar symbol, the eight pointed star.In numb shock, you hang the jacket back up, as if to hide the truth with mere wool and leather. (That was a thing once, wasn’t it, protection from animal sacrifices?)You don’t remember writing that. Or drawing it. But you know it to be truth nonetheless.Shock, but not surprise. It was optimistic to think you could run forever. That you could even run at all.(So what was the point, then?)You can’t not sleep, that’s impossible, and you must have slept between then and now. Whatever it was your past self tried to warn you about must have already come to pass.But you don’t feel particularly punished, you think. Surely if they were to enact their wrath you would be in far more pain than this. You can’t not sleep and you can’t run away and even if they were the kind for forgiveness, you wouldn’t be able to earn it.So what is the point, then?Nothing to do but continue on.You pull a different winter jacket down, instead, and continue on with your day.—The first time you wake up in a place that is definitely not your bedroom, you are covered in blood. You don’t know where you are. These are not your clothes.There is an eight pointed star on the ground painted wet with crimson and you are in the center.You have no injuries.There is no one around… that you can see.Okay… so there is no just continuing on.—You’re tempted to contact your family, but you’re always tempted to contact them every few years when your nostalgia gets the better of your sense.Part of you thinks that maybe it’ll be worth it—your family wouldn’t begrudge you help if you asked for it, surely? Certainly not if it’s to escape a path they never wanted you to walk in the first place—but another part of you knows that not even your family would be able to withstand the entirety of their power, their rage, their ownership of you. You haven’t spoken to them in decades, and that part of you will always love them.And yet another part just really does not want to put up with your family’s lecturing.Professional help it is.—It’s several months of careful inquiries and investigations before you hear of her. You think, at first, it’s a joke. You haven’t been in a laughing mood for ages, but something must cross your expression, because the contact who referred her assures you that, no, really, she’s legit.Given the dozens of failures and flakes you’ve been through so far, you’re highly skeptical. Then again, given the task you’ve presented people, you can’t be too surprised nothing’s worked so far.It just doesn’t help that, when you get to the address sent to you, you’re standing in a strip mall before a store front called New Age House of Healing.(Really?)You enter and the door sounds with an electronic recording of chimes. (Why not just use real chimes?) You’re hit with a flurry of scents, essential oils and incense and potpourri, and try not to sneeze. There are crystals and statuettes and pamphlets and dream catchers and nothing at all pings you as having an iota of actual magic potential.(What?)“Hello?” you call out, because in addition to not having any magic in this place, there also does not seem to be any people.The door behind you gives another burst of electronic chimes. An avalanche of nonsense follows. “Oh shit, sorry—I mean, oh, geez, I mean—I didn’t think anyone would come in. Of course it happens when I’m next door, it hasn’t even been five minutes, I swear.”A woman holding a bakery to go box scoots around you, taking a seat behind the desk. Her shirt has tigers on it. She also is completely absent of magic.You’ve made a mistake.“Hello, welcome to the New Age House of Healing, how may we refresh your body and soul?” she says, as if pulled from her tongue.“I’ve made a mistake,” you say, because clearly that is the only answer.“Okay,” she says, nonplussed, before turning to her bakery box.Thus dismissed, you turn to leave… only to turn back when a chill crawls across the back of your hand.The woman is mid bite and still as nonmagical as before. But now, behind her, is a ghost. You meet his line of sight then glance back down to the woman. Confused, she meets your eyes then swivels her chair to look behind her.She heaves a sigh, finishes her bite, then turns back around to you.“You’re not here for crystals and shit are you?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I’m so sorry,” she says with a slanted, rueful grin. She is genuine but unhesitating, righteous and thus ultimately remorseless. With a swift, almost slicing hand movement, she summons an invisible force to strike at your knees and you crumple to the ground. You look up in time to see her make another gesture, fingers curling into a loose fist, before everything goes dark.When you wake up you are on the front porch of your neighbor’s house and six days have passed.—“I am a daughter of Izanagi, unfortunately.” She rolls her eyes, exasperated, at herself or her statement, it’s hard to tell. “I mean, if you believe the myths, everyone with Japanese heritage is a child of Izanagi, but I do mean mine literally.”You’re not sure what expression is on your face, only that it makes her crinkle her own in response.“It’s not that impressive. Sure, there’s the whole, you know, access to divine powers that seems cool, but it also comes with the stipulation that should dear old dad ever give in to his millennia long ennui I’ll probably have to be the one to take him out. And trust me,” she grumbles, “killing gods is extremely tedious.”—You’re more concerned about the loss of time than any possible injuries—you’re eager to go home and check your journal—but your neighbors are kind and well-connected enough to have a doctor make a house call on short notice. You tried putting them at ease, assurances that you feel fine and just want to go home. You even put a hint of teenage whining into your tone, annoying enough to send you on your way, but they are insistent and for all that your parents are barely around they did raise you to be somewhat polite.And any further protests might raise the question of where your parents are anyway which is a topic you’d much rather not bring up more than you’d like to not continue imposing on your neighbors.Mysterious strange doctor it is.Except… when she arrives: her expression is flat, she’s older, and it’s not an exact match, but--“You!”—maybe she’s not so much a stranger after all.—“It’s going to suck at first,” she says, reaching a hand out to help you off the ground.You’re panting, trying to catch your breath after what should have been an absolutely brutal spar.. The gouges in the earth around you tell a story of extreme force and speed that you would have assumed only construction or industrial machinery capable of. But, no, that was you.All of her hits landed, of course, which is why you’re the one on the ground, but they were no less powerful. And yet… you felt the blows—you know you did—they hurt during the spar and still do. But they are aches and bruises instead of broken bones or fully liquified flesh which is what should happen to human bodies under force like that.“It’s going to take time to get used to everything,” she continues as you finally take the offered hand and let her pull you to your feet. “You’re still you, but… more. You’ll have to be careful and you’ll have to practice. And then—”“Let me guess: it gets better?” you interrupt, because that’s what all the adults say. Not that she’s an adult—she can’t be more than a year or two older than you, even if she’s been patronizing this whole time.She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t even seem annoyed that you interrupted.If anything, she seems sad.—The doctor puts her bag down before holding both hands in front of her, nonthreatening. Her expression still doesn’t change, as if rushing to make a house call in the middle of the night and then immediately having to deal with an accusatory teenager were absolutely normal and even boring.“You!” you say, because you don’t know what else to say. “You’re—you!” You’d feel embarrassed any other time, stuttering and incomprehensible, but once you’ve recognized the similarities you can’t unsee them.“Is something the matter?” your neighbor says, looking between you and the doctor. You’re not sure who he’s asking. After a moment’s assessment, he moves to stand in the middle, his back to you, protective of you even though he was the one to call her and surely must trust her.“I’m Doctor Ellen Kaiza,” she says, looking you in the eyes. “I was called here to check on a patient. If you are uncomfortable in leaving your care to me, I understand and I can leave. If you would like for me to examine you, I can do so. It’s your choice if you would like company, but if you don’t I am bound by doctor patient confidentiality and will enforce it.” Her tone, like her expression, does not change at all.She does not know you. You do not know her.You have never met her before.—There’s a burning warehouse and sirens of every types flashing and sounding through the night. The both of you are watching this safely from a few rooftops away, thankfully upwind of the smoke, after her hurried flight snatched you from the fiery jaws of death. Or the fiery jaws of your own mistakes.“So, what have we learned?” she asks, after setting you down on your feet.“Don’t start fires when you’re in a possible meth lab?”You can feel her glaring at the side of your head, but you’d much rather watch the spectacle you had a hand in creating.The silence kicks you, unimpressed.“Don’t take cover behind pressurized vats of flammable chemicals?”The silence is impatient and practically shoves you over, demanding your lunch money.“… don’t provoke the highly armed and extremely paranoid criminals when we’re on a recon mission,” you sigh, thoroughly chastised.She turns away to watch the fire department try to put out the flames while the survivors are split between the police and the EMTs. The silence gives you an awkward clap on the shoulder.“How badly did I mess this up?” you ask in a desperately casual voice, because you work best with clear and constructive feedback and if she’s going to yell at you, you’d rather get it over now while you’re still in an adrenaline high.She hums considering. “We’ll have to wait until the fire goes out and hope the pissing match between the cops and fire department delays them long enough for us to get in, get the relic, and get out.”This time you turn to her, blinking in shock. The moisture in your eyes is only because you’ve been staring at the burning warehouse for too long.She rolls her eyes, “You didn’t fuck up that badly. Relics are divine, they’re extremely difficult to destroy. Ideally, we would have gotten it without any collateral damage, but this isn’t too bad.”This time the silence is on your side, an elbow nudging her in the ribs even as she looks away from your crying face.“Don’t worry, we’ll make a hero out of you yet.”—“So you’ve met Tetsuki,” the doctor says in your neighbor’s guest bedroom where she’s set up a makeshift exam room. You had to reassure your neighbor twice that you were completely fine with the doctor despite your less than stellar initial reaction, and three times that you would prefer to see her by yourself.You nod, awkwardly shuffling back and forth on your feet.“Sit down,” she says, stethoscope already in her ears. “You can ask questions while I examine you.”“Deal,” you agree quickly, because you’re pretty sure you’re not going to be able to out negotiate her.On her instructions you take in a deep breath, hold it, and exhale after she reminds you about human limitations.“So you know her, then. You… I mean, you look...”The doctor nods, still blank faced. “By blood, she’s a… distant cousin. A niece of sorts. By ichor, hm… Her divine father and my divine mother were said to have created humanity.” Finally the doctor makes an expression: she rolls her eyes and the similarity between her and her niece are even more obvious. “But every pantheon claims to have created humanity, and I highly doubt that’s true.”As fascinating as lore is, you have a more important question to ask.“I’m missing six days,” you admit finally because a normal human would assume head trauma, but a divine scion would know better. “Do you know where she is?”—“I’m so sorry,” she says with a slanted, rueful grin.You check behind you to make sure that she isn’t talking to someone else, but it’s only the two of you in the skatepark. It’s too cold for even the most dedicated skaters, but the emptiness and silence of your house almost physically shoved you out the door.“Sorry for what?” you ask because you do not know her, you’ve never met her before.She is genuine but unhesitating, righteous and thus ultimately remorseless. With a swift, almost slicing hand movement, she summons an invisible force to strike at your knees and you crumple to the ground. You look up in time to see her make another gesture, fingers curling into a loose fist.Before everything goes dark, you hear her say, “For making a Hero out of you.”
11331789	Til Death Do Us Part	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Other", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Pretty Little Liars", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Miss_Vanderwaal", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-28T00:00:00", "words": "593", "Additional Tags": "not a real story, Just me pouring out here my thoughts on the finale because none of my friends watch PLL", "Relationship": null, "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 }	Okay, right off the bat: Mona made out of Rosewood alive and I truly feel like a burden has been taken off my shoulders, but I’ll get to that. First, I obviously wanna talk about the highlight of the episode – Twincer and, consequently, Troian out-of-this-world Bellisario. Man, what an actress! Ever since the Twincer theory started going around I thought it was mainly silly because how many long lost siblings can Spencer have? But the way Troian delivers this Alex chick to us is just beyond fantastic! Everything about her made me instantly love her as a character. Her punky attitude, the way she kicked her feet up and then straddled her chair as if she didn’t have a care in the world, and, oh, God, the British accent – I’ve seen even non-British people saying that it sounded quite off, but my ears were honestly all for it! I thought the reveal itself was fabulously executed, too. The cliché of them looking at each other through the glass door was amazing. Alex’s explanation for being A.D. felt pretty solid to me. I didn’t notice any awkward plot holes – like the ones that the Charlotte reveal had –, but then again I didn’t watch the episode trying to look for plot holes. I kind of just went with it, trying to simply follow the story, and I guess that was why it was easier for me to believe in it. I genuinely felt bad for Alex – like I have felt bad for all the previous As –, even though she didn’t seem to have any diagnosed mental illness. The scene with her saying something along the lines of “I can’t believe I’m here with you guys” to the girls and then asking to hold one of Emily and Alison’s little girls really got to me. Overall, she was just this brilliantly constructed villain-slash-victim of life’s unfairness and I’m really glad she ended up being the girls' final torturer. Now, onto the major downside of this episode, in my opinion: Mona. I say this with an aching heart, but yes, I strongly disliked the way she acted during the whole thing. I thought we, Mona and Vandermarin fans, were gonna be very happy throughout the episode once Hanna opened the door to Mona and they hugged, but then Mona started sneaking around again, putting on a Melissa mask – what was the point of that? – and getting sucked back into the game on her first day out of Welby! I get it; she was sneaking around because was trying to help the girls, she was trying to figure out who A.D. was, which brings me to my next complaint: Mona wanted to keep the girls safe; they haven’t been her enemies for a long time. She didn’t need to say “déjà-vu, bitch” before punching Spencer. That one line bothered me so much! Now, I don’t really mind Mona going off to Paris and finding herself a cute little French fling, but… an underground dollhouse for her to play with Mary and Alex? Come on, people! I don’t care if that was Marlene’s way of making the show go “full-circle”. That was so ridiculously disrespectful to Mona’s past and to her on-going illness! Sigh I just wanted Mona to be able to have an actual normal life, with no control over others, with no wicked toys in basements. Anyway, I guess I’ll simply pretend that such an unnecessary setback didn't actually happen to her and imagine her sipping mimosas with the girls in a café in Paris.
11396259	i love to hold you close	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Min Yoongi \| Suga, Park Jimin (BTS), Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung \| V", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by taesquared (orphan_account)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-04T00:00:00", "words": "1,814", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Pillow Talk, Yoonmin know English, Jungkook hates it", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Min Yoongi \| Suga/Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung \| V", "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 }	Yoongi wasn’t invited to too many sleepovers, but he had a feeling most sleepovers – at least from what he’s gathered from TV – didn’t involve actually sleeping on the ground (or sleeping at all for that matter...not that he was complaining). Unfortunately, Taehyung and Jungkook had practically shoved him and Jimin off the bed and taken it for themselves. (“We won it fair and square!” Jungkook screeched after winning five rounds of rock-paper-scissors-tree-gun-windmill-hurricane). To their credit, though, Taehyung had a spare mattress and there was enough space to place it beside the bed so the four of them were able to sleep in one room.Beside him, Jimin squirmed a bit, delicately trying to find a happy medium of comfort. The mattress wasn’t very big, and Jimin was worried one of them would roll off in the middle of the night. They eventually settled on cuddling each other. Tightly. Yoongi had blushed from the contact – please don’t make this weird – with their bodies pressed flush against each other, it took a good minute (okay, maybe two) before he felt the tension in his chest slip away.Yoongi wondered if Jimin ever struggled as much as he did.“Are they asleep?” Jimin whispered, his eyes wide open. Yoongi could see a glimmer of moonlight flicker in his pupils, blown in the dark. So precious.Yoongi craned his neck, contorting his upper body into a very uncomfortable position. He could barely see the lumps on the bed, but given the lack of noise coming from them, he assumed that, yes, the younger boys were asleep.He nodded, sinking back into the mattress and slotting himself back into Jimin’s arms.Jimin gently stroked the other boy’s shoulders. He leaned in closer and whispered softly, “It’s been a while since we had time to ourselves.” Yoongi froze.His English… A wave of goosebumps rushed across his arms. Jimin’s English never failed to send shivers down his body.“We talk almost every day though,” Yoongi replied, his lips bringing the lightest caress onto the other boy’s nose. “It’s different like this.” Yoongi blinked. He smiled, his eyes crinkling with mirth. He had no argument there.Despite going to different schools, Yoongi and Jimin often spoke to each other on Skype. If they didn’t physically talk, they would send texts and messages all the time. Frankly, neither of them could say that they sorely missed the other because, well, they didn’t. Their constant stream of conversation never dried up. Yoongi will admit, however, that he missed Jimin’s touch. They lived far enough away from each other that they couldn’t meet up every weekend – this, coupled with Yoongi’s composing assignments and Jimin’s dance recitals made it especially difficult.Talking was great.But being able to touch was another matter entirely.Now that classes were over, Taehyung’s immediate idea to host a sleepover was like a godsend, and both Yoongi and Jimin agreed to pay the younger back sometime. Yoongi’s lips quirked upwards with a teasing lilt. “Did you miss me that much, Jiminie?”Jimin ducked his head into the crook of the other’s neck. “Shut up. You missed me too, Yoongi.”Yoongi huffed playfully. “I like how your respect disappears when we talk in English.”Jimin snickered. “Who said I ever respected you in Korean?” he scoffed, earning himself a lighthearted punch on his chest.“You’re so rude to me. Why do I even put up with you?” Yoongi tightened his hold on the other, pulling him in even closer.“Isn’t it obvious? I’m great,” Jimin replied, smirk fully plastered on his child-like face. “If you say so.” “I know so,” Jimin may not be confident in a lot of things, but this, he was sure of. Damn it all, Yoongi thought. “Only great people can put up with Yoongi.”“Hoseok is great,” Yoongi snapped back. “Namjoon is great. Seokjin is great. Even Taehyung and Jungkook are great. You’re not special.” Of course they were only joking, but there was a subtle thrill in riling each other up that Yoongi not-so-secretly enjoyed.Luckily, Jimin enjoyed the banter as well.He put on his best fake pout. “If they’re so great, why don’t you go sleep with them?” Jimin tilted his chin up in the general direction of the bed. “I don’t think the bed is big enough for three people.” “I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna take up that much space. I’m sure you could squeeze in.” Yoongi mocked an affronted look and gripped onto Jimin’s shoulders, rocking him with every word, “Look. Who’s. Talking.” Jimin, who was enjoying this way too much, had to bring a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter in fear of waking up the others. “So fucking rude,” he huffed. “Besides, I don’t think I could sleep with their long-ass limbs flailing all over the place,” he said, relieving Jimin from his grip.Jimin leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Yoongi’s button nose. “I’m kidding. Of course I’d rather have you here with me. And they don’t flail, Yoongi, they’re just…long.”“I know, I know.” Yoongi let out a soft chuckle. “Obviously, I prefer sleeping here with you.” “And why is that?” “Mmm…,” Yoongi pretended to ponder deeply. “Because you’re short-limbed.”Jimin relentlessly whacked Yoongi’s arm, forcing the older to let out a whispered cry. “Now who’s being rude?”Yoongi smiled wide, his cute gums on full display. “I’m reconsidering. You’re violent in bed.”Jimin grinned with a hint of mischief. “If I remember correctly, you were pretty rough that one time.”Yoongi groaned and buried his head into the mattress. “What would the kids think if they knew what you just said? Honestly, the benefits of knowing English astound me everyday. Thank God for Namjoon.”“You worry too much,” Jimin chided. “There’s literally nothing to worry about. Even if they heard us, you know I can be as,” Jimin traced his finger up lightly, teasingly, against Yoongi’s torso, “…dirty,” he emphasized the word with a prod, “…as I want to, Yoongi. They’d never know.”Yoongi shivered. Jimin’s English was already too much, but the borderline pillow talk was beyond okay. He could already feel his body reacting in a very inappropriate way. He couldn’t get too excited. Not here. Not now.Yoongi reached down to clasp the naughty finger and firmly pulled it away from his body. “Not here, Jimin,” he almost growled. “Let’s behave tonight, for once.”“But it’s been so long,” Jimin practically whined.“And you can wait another day,” Yoongi reasoned, resisting the urge to smirk at having the upper hand when normally, Jimin was usually the more dominant person between the two. “If you behave, I might be more willing to treat you tomorrow.”It may be a bit cheap, but Yoongi was always a fan of give-and-take. Jimin’s lips formed a pout that was never failed to draw Yoongi’s attention. “At least kiss me, you dweeb.”“So romantic,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, but he always complied to kisses, even more so when they were alone. He closed his eyes and leaned in. Just as their lips were about to touch, a pillow came hurtling towards the pair, scaring Jimin half to death and hitting Yoongi on the nose. “What the fu—”“Oh my God, can you guys please stop talking?” Jungkook exclaimed with a grumble. His voice was scratchy and he sat on the bed, poised with a raised arm while the other grappled blindly behind him for another projectile. “Some of us actually want to sleep, fucking hell,” he rasped, throwing another (thankfully smaller) pillow at the pair.“Yah, Jeon Jungkook, you freaking scared the shit out of me,” Jimin’s Korean returned in full throttle, and Yoongi could detect his Busan satoori slipping through. “We’re not even that loud!” Jimin quickly sat up and threw the pillow back, just as forcefully. “You can’t even understand what we’re saying!” Yoongi tossed the first pillow to the side, uncaringly.“That’s what makes it even more annoying, you asshole,” Taehyung grumbled from his lying position beside the maknae, startling the pair on the ground. To be honest, he was more annoyed that Jungkook had woken him up with his outburst. “You guys do whisper loud. Just go to sleep and save it for the morning,” he muttered, dropping the proper honorifics, which Yoongi had a gut feeling was intentional. It seemed Jimin thought so, too. “Watch it, we’re both older than you, you dick,” Jimin retorted.Yoongi, feeling quite done (and exhausted), tightened his hold around Jimin and tugged him down. He hummed with content as he felt Jimin’s body relax against his hold. “Let’s go to sleep,” he mumbled. “You can beat them up later.”Jungkook let out a groan, Yoongi’s English offsetting another bout of frustration. “Hyung, I swear, Tae and I are gonna learn Japanese and then you’ll see how irritating it is listening to you guys talk in English.”“We’re gonna what now?”“Shush, Tae, we’re making this a thing. We can’t give in to the hyungs.”Taehyung shrugged, too tired to deal with his boyfriend who was becoming more and more competitive with each waking minute.“I want us to be so good at Japanese that we can watch anime without subt—”Taehyung effectively shut him up with a kiss on the cheek, and before Jungkook could even recoil, a second kiss on the lips. In the shadows, Taehyung could still make out Jungkook’s bewildered expression, his eyes blown wide with confusion with a blush blooming softly across his face. “Just go to sleep, Kookie. We can talk about this in the morning.”Jimin snickered, having witnessed the drastic change in Jungkook’s demeanor. “Yeah, Kookie.”Jungkook, who was still in mild shock, simply mumbled, “Yeah, okay,” before letting Taehyung gently lower him down and snuggling up to the older boy, melting into his embrace.Jimin turned to Yoongi, the pair finding each other’s embrace like clockwork. They stared into each other’s eyes, reading the unspoken signals reflected within.Wordlessly, the boys kissed. Neither of them knew who initiated, but when their lips met, it didn’t matter. It was a feeling they could drown in, and it could last forever for all they cared.As they parted, Jimin smiled, his eye smile brighter than moonlight. “I bet you’ll dream of me tonight.”Yoongi felt his eyes roll back once again. “You’re so full of it.” “Mhm, full of love for you, Yoongi.” Yoongi pretended to choke. “That’s so cheesy, oh my God.” Jimin let out a silent chuckle, opting to close his eyes and pull Yoongi closer.Yoongi planted one last kiss on Jimin’s forehead. “I love you, too, Jimin.”“Oh my fucking G—shut up!”Yoongi and Jimin shook with restricted laughter as a badly-aimed pillow landed with a loud thump next to the mattress.Teasing the maknae never got old.
11328261	took forty-five minutes	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Wolfgang Bogdanow, Kala Dandekar, Nomi Marks, Will Gorski, (through texts), Lito Rodriguez", "Fandom": "Sense8 (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by joooooooo_e", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-28T00:00:00", "words": "3,462", "Additional Tags": "PWP, well-ish", "Relationship": "Wolfgang Bogdanow/Kala Dandekar", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "someday is tonight (and every night from here)", "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 }	She was standing at the hotel reception desk, waiting for the employee to finish speaking with another guest on the phone. The employee smiled at her in apology, but she mouthed, it’s okay and beamed at them, to which they nodded gratefully. Her phone buzzed and she unlocked the screen to read the message. It was from Nomi. Kala, where are you and Wolfgang? (Received 9:55 PM) She was about to reply back when a voice spoke up. “Hello, ma’am. How may I help you this evening?”Kala placed her phone down on the countertop and asked, “May you please call in a taxi for me? I’m heading to this address.” She handed the slip of paper with Daniela’s looped handwriting on it. She had never heard of that place before, but Daniela insisted that they begin the night there (It’s so much fun, Daniela squealed as she grabbed Kala’s shoulders. There are a lot of empty and dark rooms there, she whispered into her ear. Kala blushed deeply).The receptionist didn’t bat an eyelid and just nodded. “Of course. It should be here in ten minutes, ma’am. If it takes longer, feel free to have a seat anywhere.” He grabbed the telephone to his right and started dialling.Now that transportation had been taken care of, Kala went back to her conversation with Nomi. She received three more texts. Do not tell me you two stayed back and had sex… (Received 9:56 PM) Kala…I mean…I know you look super hot tonight but… (Received 9:57 PM) God, you haven’t left your room in the past two days! (Received 9:57 PM) Kala felt the heat blossom on her cheeks and her hands were shaking as she typed out her reply. Nomi! No, we are not having sex! (Delivered 10:03 PM) ;) (Received 10:05 PM) Oh my god. Nomi. (Delivered 10:05 PM) Kala reread the texts again, and scrunched her face in confusion. Wait, Wolfgang’s not there? (Delivered 10:06 PM) She stared as the three dots appeared and disappeared from Nomi’s side of the conversation. A few minutes went by before a bubble of text came through on the screen. Hey, Kala. It’s Will. My phone died so I’m texting through Nomi’s. (Received 10:10 PM) Before I left, Lito and Wolfgang were still in the room getting ready. They might be done by now, I’m not sure though. Sorry. (Received 10:12 PM) Thanks, Will :) (Delivered 10:12 PM) And Nomi, once again, no. (Delivered 10:13 PM) ;) I’m just saying (Received 10:13 PM) … Kala looked up from her phone and saw a familiar figure headed towards the exit doors. She smiled as she loudly said, “Lito!” The heels of her shoes echoed as she ran over to him.He stopped in his tracks and turned to her as she stopped. “Kala, you look stunning!”Her chest was rising and falling as a consequence of her running. “Thank you,” she lowered her head shyly and smiled at the ground. Once she gathered her breath, she lifted her head up and gave him a questioning look. “Was Wolfgang getting ready too?”He nodded. “When I left, he was gathering his clothes and went to the bathroom.” His face fell into a frown. “I’m sorry I took my time. My hair was not cooperating with me, unfortunately." “It’s okay.” She craned her head and saw her taxi pulling up in front of the hotel entrance. She turned to face Lito. “You can take my taxi to the bar. I’ll wait for Wolfgang.”He looked at her with uncertainty in his eyes. “Hermosa, are you sure?”“Don’t worry about it, Lito,” she shook her head. “You look dashing, by the way.” She appraised him.“Let’s hope Hernando thinks so, too. Yes?” He winked and walked out the glass doors. “Thank you!” He waved at her through the doors. Kala rolled her eyes with a smile and caught the elevator back to her and Wolfgang’s room. She kicked off her heels and sat down on the edge of their bed, scrolling through her phone. She went to her messages and clicked on her conversation with Wolfgang. Wolfgang, are you nearly ready? (Delivered 10:26 PM) She locked her phone screen and lowered her back onto the bed with a sigh. The mattress was comfortable enough that she could easily fall back asleep. Her eyes fell closed but opened when she heard the sharp trill of a new message notification. About to take a shower. Lito took forever getting ready. (Received 10:18 PM) Yeah I know. I saw Lito at the lobby on his way out and he told me. I went back to our room. (Delivered 10:19 PM) When he didn’t reply immediately, she assumed he was already in the shower. She opened her web browser and flicked through international current affairs news. Another ten minutes went by before he replied.Why are you still here? Go. I’ll meet you there :) (Received 10:30 PM) It’s okay, I’ll wait for you. (Delivered 10:31 PM) Are you sure? (Received 10:31 PM) Of course :) (Delivered 10:32 PM) Okay. Just give me 15 more minutes and I’ll be done. (Received 10:33 PM) I’ll wait for you near the elevators on your floor. (Delivered 10:33 PM) ... Kala sat down on one of the chairs across from the elevators on Wolfgang’s floor. Well, technically, he was getting ready in Lito and Hernando’s hotel room, so, really it was their floor. The boys insisted they get ready together while the girls were all in Nomi and Amanita’s room (Come on, Kala, Amanita intertwined their fingers together as they walked away from her room. Wolfgang has to share you with your friends, too. She stuck her tongue out at him and he only shrugged in response, a sly smirk playing at his lips.)They were in San Francisco for a week, and despite being their third day in the city, this was actually Kala’s first time out of the hotel. After spending their first day sleeping and getting back their energy, the whole group had planned to take a trip to Yosemite National Park yesterday. But Wolfgang had other plans for the two of them. She bit her lip at the memory of bare skin against soft sheets and lying on fluffy pillows.She turned when she saw a flash of movement headed towards her, and she turned her head to look at the person with a smile. It froze on her face when she realised it was the floor maintenance man, and he silently laughed at her good-naturedly. She flushed, but continued to smile at him as he walked into the little supply room next to the elevators. He was in there for a while, but when he left, he didn’t close the door all the way.Kala probably had a confused look for a while, because the next thing she heard was Wolfgang’s voice.“Hey,” he sounded equally amused and concerned, “what’s wrong?”“Oh,” she blinked up at him, not really registering anything, “nothing. Are you ready to go?” She took her phone out from her purse when he nodded, and typed a quick message to Nomi before putting her phone away. We’re on our way now. (Delivered 10:52 PM) Sweet! See you gorgeous people when you get here! (Received 10:53 PM) She stood up from her seat and was about to say something, but the words died in her throat. It was like déjà vu, because Wolfgang was dressed in the exact same suit (this time without the navy jacket) he tried on for her months and months ago. He smirked at her as if he was recalling the exact same memory, and it was like a dam broke. She acted on reflex and threw herself at him, and he caught her with ease. She kissed him hard and pulled back to tug him into the supply closet.T hank god the maintenance man left the lights on.She locked the door behind her, dropped her purse to the ground, and brought Wolfgang’s head down again for a kiss.He made a confused sound, but didn’t pull away from her. "Kala.""Wolfgang,” she breathed back, their kisses getting more heated.He tilted his head to kiss her harder, and her hands sneaked in between them to start unfastening the buttons of his shirt. "Kala.""Hm?" She smiled against his lips."Are we actually doing this right now?" He sounded incredulous.She looked up at him properly. "What's wrong?" Her hands froze halfway through unbuttoning his shirt. She took a step back with a shake of her head. He was right. What was she doing? “I-I'm sorry. We can stop if you want."Wolfgang let out a pained noise and stepped closer to her. "Fuck, no." He shook off his shirt and threw it behind him carelessly.He grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her roughly. She moaned at the ferocity and opened her mouth to his tongue, smiling at the taste of spearmint. His mouth left hers to lick a path from her jaw down her neck, and pressed small kisses along her collarbone. She breathed shakily.Wolfgang pulled the top half of her dress down to free her breasts, and Kala hastily slid her arms out of the flimsy sleeves. He lowered his head to take a nipple in his mouth and sucked relentlessly. Kala moaned loudly and slid her fingers into his hair, and Wolfgang sucked harder as she tugged. He nipped at her chest and did the same to the other nipple, the whining sounds Kala made were unfamiliar and downright filthy to her ears.Her hands trailed down his body and unzipped his dress pants. She didn't bother to pull them down and instead cupped him through his underwear, which he responded with a loud grunt. He hastily pushed her hands off his body, and bunched the bottom of her dress up to her waist to expose her lacy underwear. Immediately, he dropped to his knees and pulled her hips towards him.Kala accommodated him by leaning her back against the wall, the cold surface making her shiver slightly, but she paid it no mind. Her hands tried to find purchase on anything it could hold on to, but she flattened her palms against the wall to brace herself instead. Wolfgang took his time sucking and kissing her thighs, and Kala's legs were shaking with eagerness.He tugged the sides of her underwear down and helped her get them off, tossing them to the corner of the small room. He grabbed one of her legs and kissed her ankle before setting it over his shoulder. She's already wet, and fully exposed to him, but Wolfgang took his time teasing her with little bites on the skin of her inner thighs."Wolfgang," Kala exhaled sharply as his nose brushed through the tufts of hair and breathed in the scent of her.She closed her eyes and waited for the sensation of his tongue dipping into her, but it never came. Instead, she felt him lean back. She opened her eyes and looked down at a now smirking Wolfgang, who winked at her cheekily. She made a frustrated sound and secured one hand around the back of his head to guide it back to where she needed him most. Kala bit back a moan of relief when he finally slid his tongue, albeit tentatively, into her folds. His hands gripped hard on either side of her hips that Kala was sure would leave marks the next day.But right now, she didn't care. Her desperation was clouding her thought process. She wanted nothing more than for Wolfgang to just put his mouth on her properly, damn it.He still didn't oblige her. So she dug her heel into his back, and used the other leg holding her body upright to spread herself a little wider to his mouth. "Wolfgang, stop teasing," she whined.He licked her with a smile, and continued to skirt around the edges, never giving her the touch she craved. She pulled his face back to glare at him, but her jaw slacked when she saw his slight stubble wet with her impatience. He was breathing just as hard as she was, although she could see his satisfaction at her practically begging for him. "Please," she returned his face back to its position between her legs and left her hands there. He exhaled through his nose, and this time when he put his mouth back on her, his tongue flicked at her clit. He inserted two fingers into her and plunged them in and back out languidly. She sighed in relief, happy that she could relieve some of the tension that was building in her. But she needed more. "Wolfgang," she urged with a whisper.He kept going at the same leisure pace."Wolfgang," she repeated, thinking he didn't hear her. "Can you please - ah!" She let out a loud yelp when his mouth bore deeper and sucked hard. His fingers plunged into her faster, and she was so close. She was so close. He knew she was too, because his tongue stayed on her clit, and with a final lap over it, pushed her over the edge. She curled her body over him as she came with a gasp, and his mouth remained on her, tongue licking her clean.He stood back up as she recovered from the haziness of her orgasm with a smirk. Her eyes zeroed in on his lips, still slick with her release, and without thinking she kissed him hard. She moaned, and with slight mortification, blushed at the taste of her that Wolfgang seemed to thoroughly enjoy.He hummed as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. He pulled back slightly to whisper, “You taste so good, babe.”Babe. He had never called her that before. Her stomach clenched at his term of endearment and she was more desperate than ever for him to be inside her. They worked together frantically to remove the layers between them, and when he was free, Kala stroked his length. She licked her lips as she felt the wetness of his tip, and Wolfgang hissed when she brushed her thumb over the sensitive skin.He held her up by the waist and pinned her against the wall, sinking into her without a second thought. His grip moved to her thighs and he thrust once, twice, three times into her."Oh god." She moaned. The friction of the wall against her bare back, and the way his chest was pressed against her pert nipples was getting too much for her. Her hands cupped his cheeks and she pulled him in for a kiss.His breath was hot as he broke the kiss to exhale. "Kala." His voice was low and raspy. The sound went straight to her core. "Fuck."Her walls clenched around him as he swore. "Yes," she moaned. His next thrust was strong enough to drive her upwards, and her back scraped the wall again. It disturbed her a little that the sensation only aroused her more."Harder." She sunk her teeth down on his bottom lip.The noise he made was animalistic, something caught between a deep growl and a sharp hiss. His grip on her thighs tightened, and he thrust into her again with the same force. She clenched around him again, and he moaned out her name.“Kala." She tried to find words, but couldn’t. So her mouth just fell open in pleasure.Another thrust. "Kala," he could tell she was close. But Kala refused to let go. He thrust into her again. "Come on, babe."Babe. There it was again. She gasped at his words and dropped her face to the curve of his neck. "No," she whispered desperately. "With me." She sucked on the skin hard enough to leave a bruise.He groaned, and the sound of it reverberated through her whole body. His thrusts got more frantic, and all Kala could do was moan in pleasure until all she could hear was white noise as she reached her climax. He dropped one of her legs from his hold, while he held the other one steady around his waist. The new angle allowed him to bury himself deeper in her. Kala leaned her head back in ecstasy, still trying to recover from her high. With a final thrust, his body tensed up and Kala felt him come inside her, and she welcomed the sensation with a sigh. He dropped his head down to her collarbone with closed eyes and a slight smile on his face. They remained in that position for a few moments, their pulses still beating wildly and their breathing uneven. Wolfgang let go of her leg and pulled out of her gently, but Kala whimpered at the loss of contact and immediately kissed him, her arms winding around his neck to keep him close. He embraced her in return and held her against him.Kala, somewhat recovered, pulled back from Wolfgang's chest that was slick with sweat. There were no ventilation in the room, and the air was thick with the smell of sex. She basked in it nonetheless, but was a little shocked that she initiated such an act in public. Could you even call a broom closet a public space? God, what has she done? She looked at Wolfgang, who had nothing but softness in his eyes and a grin on his lips. He winked at her as he pulled his underwear and dress pants back up. He searched the floor for his shirt and took his time putting it back on. Kala swept her eyes over him, and noted that she probably looked just as dishevelled as he did. She supposed the thrill of it all made it more tantalising. She put her arms through the sleeves of her dress and smoothed out the wrinkles in the fabric. Does she even have morals anymore? ... Wolfgang poked his head out of the door, and when it seemed like no one was around, he took her hand and jogged inside the closing doors of the nearest elevator with a slight laugh.Kala inspected herself in the mirrored walls with a tilt of her head. Her curls were unruly and lipstick a little smudged (thank god it was waterproof). She lifted her dress a little higher in attempt to cover up the marks on her chest, and blushed a little when she saw the heat in Wolfgang's gaze as they locked eyes in the mirror.He hugged her from behind and kissed her left shoulder. "You look like a mess."She raised her eyebrows in challenge. "You don't look so hot either."He turned her around to face him and scoffed, "Please." He gave her a chaste kiss and brushed her curls away from her face. Kala rolled her eyes. "Okay, yeah, you look hot." She smiled up at him. "Happy?"He nodded. "Very." He kissed her again, and she leaned back against the elevator wall with a happy sigh.He smiled against her mouth. “I lied,” and when she made a noise of confusion he continued, “you look sexy like this.”She grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him harder.Wolfgang broke the kiss for a moment and pressed a few buttons on the panel.Kala looked at him with a confused expression when the elevator jolted upwards. "Where are we going?" She wrapped her arms around his neck and continued to kiss him."To." Kiss. "Our." Kiss. "Room." He kissed her a little longer before pulling back.The elevator slowed down to a stop, and opened its doors with a small ding. Wolfgang stepped out and held Kala's hands in his as he walked down the hallway.About halfway through, Kala stopped and tugged him back to her. "Why?" She looked at him quizzically. "Everyone’s -"We're not done yet." He growled, and he carried her into his arms as he practically ran back to their room.Kala threw one arm around his neck and the other rested on his chest. Her laugh echoed down the hallways and she really didn't care who heard. … Kala, it’s been hours. Where the hell are you two? We’re at a different club now. (Received 1:24 AM) Kala. Seriously. (Received 1:30 AM) What’s taking you so long?! (Received 1:33 AM) Wait a minute… (Received 1:35 AM) …I knew it. I freaking knew it! (Received 1:38 AM) You guys suck. (Received 1:38 AM) But have fun ;) (Received 1:39 AM)
11386302	Smy Birthday	{ "Archive Warning": "Rape/Non-Con", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Roadhog \| Mako Rutledge, Junkrat \| Jamison Fawkes, Reader", "Fandom": "Overwatch (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by OverwatchingYouSleep (Skullcreep)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "3,280", "Additional Tags": "noncon, Kidnapping, male reader - Freeform, Anal Sex, No Lube, Rough Sex", "Relationship": "Junkrat \| Jamison Fawkes/Reader", "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 }	Mako wasn’t quite sure why he was doing this. Junkrat was his boss, he was under no obligation to do anything nice for him. Much less something as arduous as trying to find someone cute in the outback wasteland.But (as if the old traditions even mattered nowadays) it was Jamison’s birthday. That had to be good for at least something. He was turning 25—it would have been a big one if he had been lucky enough to grow up anywhere else. Roadhog could suck it up long enough to get him a present.He just wish he had decided on something easier. The further out you got from the core, the less radiated freakshows you were likely to find. He was skirting the edge of the continent now, out under the guise of a heist to find someone who wouldn’t bite his friend’s fingers off 5 seconds in. So much easier said than done.But if anyone knew how to get something done, it was Roadhog.When he first saw you, it was like a hallucination. No obscure growths on the back of your neck, or oozing, unidentifiable fluid from beneath your fingernails. Just a regular, healthy person, taking care of your little house on the shore. It was a quaint little place, almost a nice cottage if not for the fence, a huge barbed eyesore no doubt intended to keep the radiated monsters like him out.And you, you didn't even notice him in the distance, watching you as you went along your daily routine. Mowing your grass, cleaning your windows, doing regular chores as though you lived in one of the first-world countries and not this shithole. There had to be something more to you than meets the eye if you were really able to make it out here on your own like this. Especially with just a barbed-wire fence for protection.He corrected himself. The fuse box on the back of your house had a barely-visible wire leading up to the spokes in the fence, and suddenly he understood why your survivability was what it was. Innocent as your home looked, you knew how to defend against predators and people alike in the outback. If you weren't such a rare commodity--and exactly what Roadhog was looking for--he would have left you to it. But unfortunately, you were both of those things.He waited until that night, long after you'd retired from the yard work at sundown and all the lights in your home had turned off. He hadn't seen anyone else in the windows, so he figured it was safe to assume you lived alone. He had spent all day fashioning his signature mod for his gun out of the junk he had stored in his chopper, putting together a suitable pile of shrapnel ammo and finding the best point of attack.He found a suture in the fence, just feet away from the front door, and let his automatic gun rip, tearing through the stringy steel like paper. The metal junk sent sparks flying as it tore through the electrified fence, but all a fair distance away from Roadhog. Soon enough, the zaps of energy stopped flying, and what was left of the weak metal was torn apart and useless. He still used caution as he stepped through, but once past that defense, he didn't hesitate to kick in the front door and barge into the place.Like the outside, the house wasn't anything special. Just horribly out-of-place here in the middle of the outback. Everything opposite of the endless dirt and starved land, this was proper and pristine, so unlike what he was accustomed to here. He was certain that the scavengers were going to have a field day picking through here after he snatched the owner.The bedroom was labeled as such with a sign on the door, even going so far as to tell him your name. Even easier than he thought, though whatever relief that brought him was washed away when the open door revealed a gun pointed directly at his head."Get out of my house," you managed, your voice level even though your finger was shaking on the trigger. You obviously weren't used to having to resort to violence to fend off attackers. That fence was a pretty good line of defense.Just not one that could stop Roadhog.He had expected this opposition too; stealth was not in his cards, and if his carnage outside hadn’t woken you up, his entrance certainly would have. The gun was puny, weak in the outland’s standards, and he felt no fear in taking a menacing step forward."You're coming with me," Roadhog informed you, allowing you the option to come along quietly. He didn't want to bring you back to Junkrat broken in any way, not after putting so much trouble into find you. He hoped you'd just have the common sense to obey the 7"3 man standing in your doorway and come quietly.You squeezed the trigger, the bullet tearing through the leather and striking the metal underplate of his mask. It clanged to the floor, crunched and useless, and Roadhog lifted his shoulders in a heavy sigh. Of course, you wouldn't. He hated jobs that involved some sense of mercy or finesse. He brandished his hook, letting you see its sharp point."Hold still."--It hadn't been much of a fight. He'd knocked you out in seconds flat, not even allowing you a final glance at the home you'd taken years to build before dragging you back into the heart of the outback. After 2 days, you wound up in a derelict shithole named Junkertown. He hadn't allowed you much freedom, tying you into the sidecar of his chopper to prevent your escape. Even from there, you'd seen him get into numerous bloody conflicts with the locals over you in the short trek from the town gates to his home.Once he parked, he didn't untie you like you hoped. He merely lifted your body, rope and all, out of the chopper and carried you in through the front door. He dropped you face-down on a ratty couch that was much more comfortable than its ruined appearance suggested and you tried not to think too hard about the smell of blood that reeked from the cushions."C'mere!" he bellowed through the house. It was the first word he'd said since he’d taken you, striking another surge of fear down your spine. You heard clattering on the far other side of the house, and your sinking heart dropped even lower."Coming, I'm coming," a high-pitched voice squeaked in response. Your breath stalled in your throat. You turned your head as far as it could go, just in time to see the house’s other resident step through the door.“What’s this now?” he asked, sounding like he had something between his teeth.Rather than respond, Roadhog simply snorted and gestured towards you with a single hand. You squirmed in your bonds on the couch, trying to make out as much as you could about the other man from what you could see. From here, the only thing you could make out was his torso, how unhealthily skinny he was, an incredible contrast to his friend.“Yah, I see him. What about him?” He sounded annoyed, like you were a waste of his time. You didn’t want to know what two men like this would do with someone they considered a waste of time. Roadhog snorted again, this one sounding a bit more angry.“A gift,” he explained, and you felt his giant, heavy hand wrap around your shin, pulling your leg out for his friend to look over. “For your birthday.”“S’my birthday?” the second one asked, and he knelt to look at you. This allowed you to see his face too, his unnaturally-glowing eyes and sharp canines, wild tufts of hair and Christ, was that a firework he was holding between his teeth?“Two days ago.” Roadhog grunted, and he was most certainly annoyed now. He turned on his heel and stormed off, back into some unseen corner of the house. “You’re welcome, Junkrat.” The skinny one took the firework out of his mouth and tossed it over his shoulder.“Thanks mate,” he called back, much clearer. It sounded genuine but unenthusiastic, like he didn’t want to be interrupted for this present. Well, he apparently didn’t even know it was his birthday. His eyes focused on you, trying to get a good look at your face. “And hello to you.”“Hi,” you responded, meek and confused. He grabbed you and turned you over with one arm, getting a good luck over your body. His eyes sparkled with approval, even though the boredom was still prominent on his face.“He really went all out with you, huh? Big lug.” With a small grunt, he knelt down and scooped you over his shoulders, taking you in a fireman’s carry through a small maze of hallways that didn’t seem to follow the traditional structure of a house in any way.“Got a knife?” he yelled into the open room to his left. He lifted one hand off you to catch what was thrown to him, and he dropped you in front of him on your feet. You stumbled, disoriented, and he grabbed your arm and sliced through your wrist binds. “Wrapped up and everything.”When the ankle restraints were cut, you tried to duck around him and run. You didn’t even get past his side before he scooped you up and threw open the door right across the hall. You were tossed in like nothing, stumbling back on your feet until your knees hit a decrepit bed, falling back onto it.“He’s a feisty one!” he called out to his friend, laughing at whatever the distant response was, but saying nothing more to it. The door was closed, and he turned on his peg leg to face you, a mix of emotions that you couldn't begin to piece together plastered all over his face."So," he started. Without further warning, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband his pants and dropped them, his massive cock springing forth in immodest arousal. He paused for a second, allowed you to take this in with a wide mouth, and then expectantly gestured with his hands. "You?""Me?" You pointed to yourself, down at the ratty nightclothes you had been stuck in since you'd been taken. He nodded, looking at you like you were an idiot. He had to be out of his mind. You looked at his cock, uncircumcised, hanging between his legs like all the meat on his bones went towards it. You couldn't stomach the thought of it. You took the bottom of your undershirt between your fingers, pulling lightly on the fabric, but you didn't disrobe. "This isn't legal, you know.""Not what now?" Junkrat questioned, squinting at you through one eye. You couldn't tell if it was rhetorical or not. You swallowed the mucus in your throat and pulled yourself to your knees on the bed."I want to go home," you explained. Maybe you'd have more of a chance of escape with Junkrat; he didn't seem to want you as much as his partner anticipated. Who knew, maybe he could be persuaded otherwise? You dared to chance it. "You need to let me go."For a moment, he seemed to actually think over your words. Enough to let a glimmer of hope flicker in your chest at the sight of his consideration. Then, a smile broke out over his face."No." A laugh ripped out of his lungs, manic and wild, causing your heart to sink even further into your chest. You fell back to sit on the bed, watching him laugh of your stupid attempt at bargaining before he sobered up and began to reach for you. You flinched away, and his expression soured. He reached again, and you pushed his hand away."Is it gonna be like that, then?" he asked, sounding aggravated. You didn't know how to respond. In one step he was in front of the bed, in front of you, his hands grabbing your shirt and ripping it in two. The muscles on his lanky form did nothing to note the incredible strength he possessed. "You're my present, ain't that right?" "He kidnapped me!" you shouted, trying to ignore his metal digits digging into your side, his thumb brushing roughly over your nipple."Oh my god," he groaned, like he was embarrassed by you. His flesh hand pushed down your shoulder, pinning you to the bed and leaving you wide and vulnerable for his metal hand to rip your pants down your legs. Your cock was soft, barely visible against the cloth of your boxer shorts, and he seemed to sneer at the sight of it. "You ain't packing much, are you?""Go to hell!" Down to your last resort, you fought back with all the strength you could muster, kicking legs and harsh punches to his chest and neck. You hadn't had to fight in so long, especially not stripped to your boxers. Junkrat didn't have the patience for any of it. He landed one hard hit on the side of your head with his metal hand, his palm striking your temple, and it was more than enough to disorient you. You clung to the sides of your head, trying to will the ringing away, while Junkrat finished wrestling your pants and underwear off."There we go." His voice was distant, but closing in. You opened your eyes, and most of the spinning and stars had disappeared, leaving only the distant vanity in your sight. It was obviously scavenged from someplace much fancier, each draw brimming with explosives and contraband. In the mirror above, you saw your reflection, days worth of grime and filth on your face, and the overwhelming giant behind you aligning his cock to your hole."Stop," you slurred. Being isolated out in the wasteland, you haven't had any sexual encounters as of late. Him trying to take you without preparing you wouldn't end well. At all. He barely grunted in response, reaching to wrap his fingers in your hair and pull. The strain was almost too much, distracting you from the incessant probing at your hole."Why should I stop?" he asked you, rocking his hips back and forth. Not really penetrating, but teasing it. Warning your body of how he was about to ravage it. You tried to pull your body away, and he pulled your hair even harder, then slammed your still-dizzy head back down into the bed. "Quit squirreling around!"He wrapped his hand around your cock and stroked you, trying to get you aroused, but the metal of his hand only served to chafe your shaft in an unpleasant way. You grunted, and he stopped, only to go back to prodding your backdoor. He let go of your hair to grab both of your ass cheeks, using his thumbs to spread your tight hole before pushing forward.The first sensation of being breached was painful. You jerked up and screamed, fingers and toes curling, your body trying to reject the foreign penetration. He brought you back down by his grip on your bottom, forcing another inch into you, then another, ripping a new, more animalistic scream from you each time. After 5 thrusts, your voice gave out, only able to give a weak cry as he pushed forward, until he bottomed out in your ass."There we go," he said, finally looking like he was actually enjoying himself. He looked down at you, the tears brimming at your eyes and falling onto the stained sheets. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that hard.""Fuck off," you whispered, unable to raise your voice any higher. He moved his flesh hand from your hip to your hair, pulling your head up. You wheezed in pain, and he leaned over you to get his lips as close to your ear as possible."What was that?" he asked, and his hips snapped back and forth once. You whimpered into your teeth, clenching your eyes shut and keeping your mouth shut. Another second passed, and he thrust hard enough for the smack of flesh to reach your ears. "What was that, slut?"“I said fuck off.” He scoffed and turned you all the way on your side, legs pressed together and your ass pushed out and presented for him. The position made it easier for him to muffle your stupid protests in his mattress."Such a goddamn difficult present," he muttered, moving away from your ear and letting you go to fall on the bed. He finally started on a regular pace with his thrusts, pushing himself in and out of you slowly, but it didn't hurt any less. You squeezed more tears out of your eyes, trying to hide your pitifully stiffening cock between your legs. Junkrat's hands both dug into your left hip, holding your lower half in place so he could increase the force of his thrusts. The entire bed shook from his force."See? Not complaining now, are ya?" he asked, not at all out of breath from the exertion. In truth, your throat hurt too badly to cry out anymore. There would be no forcing anything out of your broken vocal cords. He was satisfied with your silence as an answer and bottomed out deep of inside of you. Savoring the way your body curled at the deep intrusion. "Didn't think so."He preferred to move fast and erratic, his brutal thrusts smashing the headboard of the already-busted bed against the wall. He no longer fucked you deep, sometimes even pulling all the way out of you and back in, just to get any little reaction he could out of you. He slowed when his orgasm came close, punctuated by his complete, burrowing thrusts and breathless grunts."Gonna cum. Fuck. Gonna cum gonna cum gonna fucking--" his teeth slapped together and he hunched over, slapping his hips into yours one final time and unleashing his load deep inside of your ass. "--cum!"Your neglected cock twitched a bit hopefully at the sensation of being filled, but no relief was coming. Your body was exhausted, your pain was bad enough without your headache and how unbelievably disgusted you felt with yourself. Junkrat remained perfectly still, only his hands shaking as he finished filling you up, sliding out of you as slowly as he first pushed in.“Not bad, for a bitch of a present.” With that, he popped out, stepping away from you with playful smack to your thigh. The sudden emptiness made you shudder, turning onto your back to alleviate your distorted sense of equilibrium, At the sight of your perked cock, Junkrat raised a brow. “Looks like you had fun.” You didn’t respond, but you did put one hand over your length, hiding your nethers from his view. His responding laugh was short, likely from his light exertion, but no less amused.“Oh, that’s real cute, mate,” he told you, patting your thigh in affection before turning and opening the door, still fully in the buff. “Stay there, I’ll get you something to help with that.” He disappeared from the doorway, leaving you alone in the room. You stared after him for a moment, a conflicted stew of emotions putting pressure on your sinuses. You rolled your eyes back and let your head hit the mattress.Whatever he had in mind, you were passed out cold by the time he brought it back.
11350893	Complication with	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak, Rene Ramirez, Curtis Holt", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by HoodiesandComputers (Likhnawalla)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "2,295", "Additional Tags": "Goth Felicity Smoak, Alternative Universe - No Island, Hacker Felicity Smoak, Mystery, Intrigue, Untested Oliver, Oliver works at Queen Consolidated", "Relationship": "Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon 2017", "Fandoms": "Arrow (TV 2012), olicity - Fandom", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Oliver shoves his hands in all four of his pockets before realizing his penthouse key is nowhere to be found. Swearing under his breath, he checks his coat pockets and freaks out a little more when his key is still MIA. He does one more round of checking his pockets until he feels something stabbing the side of his stomach. Frowning, Oliver lifts his shirt and sees his key stuck between his pants and stomach, which somehow managed to stay on while he took a subway and walked to his apartment.Pleased by the turn of events, Oliver takes out the key and unlocks his door, but he can tell something’s immediately off – the lights are all open, some of his stuff has been moved around, and he senses someone watching him.A rush of adrenaline hits him, but before Oliver can channel that energy into something, someone grabs him from behind and locks their hands over his chest. And every boxing lesson he’s taken in the past six months comes back with a vengeance – Oliver’s muscle memory takes over faster than he imagined, and he’s become the lethal adversary he’s worked on becoming.He immediately jabs his elbow towards the intruder, intending to hit their chest with all of his might, but another pair of arms encircle him, this time stronger and intent on keeping him down.Oliver tries to bring his right arm above his head so he can grab the intruder’s head, but before he can the other intruder grabs a hold of it and dangerously twists his wrist. Yelping in pain, Oliver does his best to shake off the two assholes but he’s outnumbered and physically outmatched. So much for those boxing lessons – he’ll need to have a word with Digg once he’s done with these jerks.“Stop – moving – so – much!”The person sounds male and definitely like the asswipe that grabbed him first. He desperately does his best to push off the guys holding onto him, but his efforts prove futile. Oliver tries to use his leg to break someone’s knee, but the person moves their leg back and promptly kicks him in the shin.Crying out in pain, Oliver doubles over and stops fighting once he realizes he can’t get out the situation by punching and kicking.“Oh my God, guys! Stop hurting him!”Oliver immediately freezes when he realizes the voice is distinctively feminine, but he can’t look up because someone’s wrapped an arm around his neck. The hold isn’t tight, but a little more strength and Oliver will have trouble breathing.Sensing how much danger he’s in, Oliver stops his movements altogether, but can’t resist saying a few choice words.“Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing at my apartment?”“Hey, hey – relax,” someone above Oliver says. The person loosens their hold on him, but their arms are still wrapped around his torso. Glancing down, Oliver can tell the person isn’t very strong – the muscles aren’t as pronounced as his buddy’s but Oliver can sense how tall the man is.“There’s no way in hell I’m relaxing until your asses are out of here! I’m calling the cops –”“That’s a really bad –”“Just – Listen, Oliver, you need to hear me out.”There it is again – the feminine voice from before. Oliver hopes her presence will stop the two guys from hurting, or worse, killing him. There’s a chance she probably got mixed in with the wrong crowd. If Oliver can plead with her to change her mind, perhaps he can leave unscathed.Still, he can’t resist asking a stupid question, mainly because he’s genuinely interested, and he hopes he can throw these intruders off by pretending to be stupid.“How do you know my name?”“The whole world knows it, douchebag.” The voice is definitely coming from the guy putting Oliver in a chokehold. He hates him already.Right, well– he is Oliver Queen after all. The arm around his neck loosens, as do the arms around his torso. Before he knows it, he’s been released all together, but the two men who grabbed him stand close by, ready to pounce if Oliver tries to escape.Oliver looks to his right side and finds an ungodly tall man who looks sorely out of place. He suspects the guy is more used to sitting behind a computer screen than going after rich people like him. Once Oliver deduces he’s not a threat, Oliver glances over to his left and sees a shorter man with a stocky build. Oliver can see his muscles underneath his black coat, and annoyingly the guy’s got a smug look on his face. This man is definitely a threat but Oliver suspects he won’t do anything until the woman tells him to.“Get the fuck out. All of you,” he growls.“Or what?”The stronger man to his left steps forward, not at all intimidated by Oliver’s physicality. He’s got a scar running down from his forehead down to his under eye, and a smile’s starting to creep up his lips. Oliver doesn’t like him – period. The guy’s too arrogant . . . but perhaps his arrogance might be his one fatal flaw.Like any rich person, Oliver’s got a safe tucked inside his closet with a gun for situations such as these. If Oliver can convince these knuckleheads there’s a treasure chest full of money and Rolex watches in his room, Oliver can find a way to get to his safe and his gun. It won’t be too hard – only his fingerprint opens the safe, and it’ll take two seconds max to open it.The arrogant prick laughs suddenly and eyes Oliver like a hawk watching his prey. “Bruh, you’re not gonna get to your safe and take out your .380, all right? We already cracked it, took out the gun, and presently it’s in much safer hands.” The man steps forward and jabs a finger on his chest. “So don’t try it.”Shit. He’s not at all prepared for this. These people are smarter than he anticipated – no one’s supposed to be able to break into his safe, but whoever they are they’re not who they seem. And there’s a part of Oliver that knows these intruders aren’t here to steal from him.It’s something worse.“Oliver, you need to trust us.”His eyes snap up to follow the sound of the voice, and he’s not at all prepared to see a woman decked out in clothing from Hot Topic. Her hair’s jet black with a few purple streaks, she’s small and petite, but there’s an air to her that convinces Oliver she’s the one behind all of this. His earlier assessment was wrong – she didn’t get involved with the wrong crowd. She controls the wrong crowd.“Who’s ‘us’?”The woman glances at her companions before stepping forward. She swallows and takes a deep breath, and it is then when Oliver gets a better look at her. Underneath the makeup and black clothing, she is kind and caring, and for some inexplicable reason Oliver knows he can trust her.“We know you’re compiling evidence of Malcolm Merlyn destroying the Glades one bad apartment complex at a time.”A chill runs down his spine and his stomach rolls in nervousness, coiling higher and higher until it’s lodged in his throat. He wants to scream, run, or laugh but none of those options seems viable.For the past eight months, Oliver’s been investigating Malcolm Merlyn for his unethical and immoral practices against the residents in the Glades. Oliver stumbled upon it by accident – he wanted Queen Consolidated to work with Merlyn Global in order to revitalize the Glades, but when he began to talk to the residents Oliver found a very different picture. And before he knew it, he was gathering as much evidence as he could with the intention of releasing it to the public and bringing Merlyn down.Oliver worked so fucking hard to cover his tracks. He would take different routes all the time, he wore hoodies and masks, he carries a USB with all the information with him 24/7, and he made sure he had an alibi for every absence, but in the end it didn’t matter. God, he was so stupid, and now there are three unknown people in his apartment who are most likely here to kill him.“H-How?”“Because we’re doing the same thing.”Same thing? Oliver’s mind runs in circles, desperately trying to connect the dots, but he quickly realizes these people aren’t here to kill him. They’re on the same side.“Christ.”“Merlyn’s sending a group of men to your place in three minutes.” Three minutes? How do they know the exact time? He glances down at the woman and she stares back with a heavy look.“They’re going to stage a burglary and pretend it’s a ransom kidnapping, but in reality they’re going to take you to Merlyn who will most definitely kill you once he has what he wants.”Holy shit, this is . . . real. Malcolm Merlyn – his second father, his godfather for fuck’s sake – is trying to kill him. He’s a wanted man and no matter what happens now, his life is practically over.He can’t handle this. It’s too much. One minute he was excited about getting a chance to lie in bed, the next he’s being manhandled and told his life is in danger. He’s in a weird state – numb but hyperaware of the fuckery going on.“What the actual fuck. What is even happening right now.” He buries his face in his hands, using every bit of energy to snap out of this crazy dream. But it’s not a dream – it’s a horrible reality.“C’mon Overwatch, we’re running behind.” The tall, nerdy man who grabbed Oliver first makes a motion to get out of his penthouse, while his partner watches with disinterest.The woman – Overwatch, whatever that means – places a gentle hand on his arm, her fingers cold to the touch. He’s unprepared to feel a slight jolt from her touch and warily looks down at her hand before glancing back at her. He takes note of her soft blue eyes, and wonders how many other men have been lost under her spell.“Look, I know you have a lot of questions, but you can ask them when Merlyn’s thugs aren’t coming here to kill you in about two minutes.”She squeezes his arm in urgency and reassurance. “We need to leave – now.”Despite the absurdity of the situation, Oliver knows how serious this is. Seeing how on edge everyone looks, he knows they’re not lying. He could be dead if he doesn’t leave with them and it’s the last thing he wants. He needs to take down Merlyn and he needs to protect his mother and sister. And if it means teaming up with a band of misfits and strangers, then it’s what he’ll have to do.Gathering every bit of courage he has, Oliver stands a little straighter and takes a deep breath. He needs a few essential items before leaving for the foreseeable future.“Wait, my clothes, my –”His throat closes up when he realizes he might not be able to save the picture he has with his father, and a family photo with Thea and his mom. If this is it, if his old life really is over, he wants to cherish the memories of his family.Thea and his mom will be crushed when they realize he’s disappeared and left without a note. He promised all those years ago he would be the man his father wanted and what his mother deserved. Leaving like this will hurt them beyond repair.Closing his eyes, Oliver inhales deeply as he tries to control his emotions. This is too much.“It’s already packed, and I . . . I put in a couple pictures in there, if you don’t mind. Figured you’d want that.”The woman’s voice is soft and gentle, and he’s struck by her thoughtfulness. She could’ve easily left those photos behind, but she packed them without even knowing Oliver would want them. He nods in acknowledgement but can’t find the strength to say thank you.She’s unfazed. Releasing her hand on his arm, she orders, “One last thing: gimmie your phone.” Oliver quickly pulls it out of his pocket and she drops it to the floor before breaking it with her foot.Now it’s back to business as usual. The two men start to gather their bags and Overwatch steps back, looking around to see if they’ve missed anything.“Okay, everything ready? Let’s go.”The men immediately leave his apartment but Oliver finds himself frozen. He’s worked so hard to become CFO at his father’s company, and everything he’s done for the past three years is going to disappear the moment he leaves. Oliver should’ve known not to kick the hornet’s nest, but he cares, and he genuinely thought he could make a change.He was wrong.“I promise it’ll work out in the end. But you have to trust us.”It’s the second time she’s said this, but he doesn’t want to believe her. “I . . . I don’t think I do.”“Well, at least trust me.” She gives him an odd look before leaving, and Oliver quickly finds himself all alone in his home.Taking a deep breath, Oliver tries to burn the memory of his home before he forgets it. The moment he walks out that door, it’ll be the end of a life he’s lived since he was born, and there will be no going back. Yet there’s a part of him that knows a different chapter is about to begin.And losing everything he earned to take down Malcolm Merlyn is worth the sacrifice.
11310252	Shattered Voice	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron), Pidge (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Coran (Voltron)", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Sprout_Galaxies", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-26T00:00:00", "words": "764", "Additional Tags": "Lance Angst, Langst, lance is a mess, everybody is worried, everyone's a mess", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Shattered Voice", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/M, Other", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Lance." "Lance!" Everyhing came as a blur, shapes unable to make out, someone in front of him, a shift in his weight meaning someone was carrying him. White hot pain followed. Then soothing calm, a cold sensation forming around the body in the pod. Everyone waited as the pod closed, 3 weeks. If took hem three weeks to get Lance back. Everyone was a mess, Hunk had been baking for hours every day in hopes that it would lighten his mood about his captured friend. Pudge has been locked up in her room for most of those weeks trying endlessly to find traces of the Galra, to chance Lance being there. Keith training endlessly and Shiro coming in very often, forcing him to eat and rest. Shiro through that time was just trying to keep the team together as much as possible. Allura spent most of her time in the control room room to locate him and Coran with her. "Paladins, I think you should go rest, we've got Lance is a pod now and he's not due to come or for 3 of your earth days." Allura's voice spoke relieved now that they can rest easily. Very eye turned to rest on Lance standing peacefully in the pod with scratches and bruises littering his body especially on his neck even with the pod suit on. All the paladins looked on edge seeing Lance like that wondering what he went through to get information out of him about the lions and them. "No offense princess but I'd much rather stay near Lance for the time being." Hunk said walking over next to the pod. "If that is so, then I employ you all to get rest and eat when you are ready to leave." ---------------- Waking up was a slow feeling for Lance. He stumbled or if the pod only to be fought by his best friend Hunk. Everyone was looking over him with relief around him, bruises gone and the scratches on his neck reduced to minor scars that were hardly noticeable. He didn't know how to feel having all eyes on him. He slowly got up on his wobbly legs and was immediately crushed in hug from Hunk. "Lance! Buddy we missed you so much! How do you feel?" Lance didn't answer, he just stood there silently. "Lance, you ok?" Pidge asked growing in concern. Lance opened his mouth to answer looking a little frightened when coughs broke through his chest in the worst sound they had ever heard coming through the blue paladin. He held his throat as he coughed for 30 seconds, terrifying his friends. "Lance!" The four of them yelled simultaneously. "I'll go get Coran." Keith said as he ran out of the med bay to look for the altean. Lance stopped coughing but still holding his throat when Coran rushed in with Keith coming back behind him. Coran quickly grabbed a scanner and heading toward Lance, ushering him to a table to sit on for the duration of the scans. Allura cam in shortly after to see that state of the awoken blue paladin. "Coran, what's wrong with Lance?" Shiro asked sternly, anticipating an answer. "I'm so sorry my boy." Coran mumbled after a few minutes to Lance but everyone herd. Coran turned around, "Lance has had some excruciating damage done to his vocal cords." He announced to the team. "But wouldn't the pods have fixed that when he came out?" Pidge asked, nerved by the new information hat has been shared. "It seems his time in captivity caused the damage to be permanent. He can still speak but it will be extremely painful to do." Coran spoke causing silence once again. Lance had hot tears pouring down his face, looking away from them as almost ashamed he couldn't speak without major difficulties. He had his arms rapped around him to protect him from the insults he thought he would receive. What would they think of him, mostly muted paladin, how would he communicate with the other teammates? Would they even allow him to stay a paladin? He was shocked to find them actually huddled around him offering support, crying with him. "I'm..... Sorry." Lance choked out, his voice raspy and faint, obviously stinging as he coughed afterwards. "You have no reason to apologize Lance, we're here for you." Shiro said as he put a hand on his shoulder, Lance immediately tensed and jerked out of it with a frightened look in his eyes. Things were a long way before they were going to get better. The alarms sounded.
11341278	Deadly Lover Mine parts	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by RavenMorganLeigh", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2003-10-12T00:00:00", "words": "6,698", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "John Doggett/Other(s)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement", "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 }	Deadly Lover, Mine parts 1-4 Deadly Lover, Mine parts 1-4 by Raven Morgan Leigh Date: Wednesday, April 16, 2003 10:08 PM Title: Deadly Lover, Mine.. parts 1-4 Author: Raven Morgan Leigh Pairing: Doggett/Other, Doggett/Skinner and Reyes/Scully Partnership Rating: R Type: Slash Status: WIP Archive: Yes, anywhere! Just Let me know! Disclaimers: I Don't Own Any Of These Characters, But I Like To Write About Them... I Assure You, I'm Still Poor. Summary: Doggett's Rescued From A Deadly Lover... And Himself. DEADLY LOVER, MINE... Part 1 Doggett had thought that Skinner's manner toward him had been thawing of late, so when he showed up at the A.D.'s office late that afternoon, he was surprised at the man's seeming hostility. Skinner scowled at Doggett over the wire rim frames of his glasses. " Agent Doggett." "A.D. Skinner. " Doggett acknowledged. Oh, what the hell is this, Doggett wondered, mentally running over the cases he was working on; trying to remember if he could possibly have missed something, or if he'd breached some arcane bit of protocol recently. Skinner shoved a file across the desk towards his agent. Cautiously, Doggett snagged the file, opened it. It contained pictures. He took a good look. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. For a moment he couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. He felt lightheaded. Sick. "Do you want to explain this to me, Agent Doggett?" Skinner asked, sounding dangerous. Doggett's eyes widened, and he glanced up at the Assistant Director. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He tried again. " I--I.. can't.. I don't know..." He rasped, trying hard to control the fit of trembling he knew was coming on. It was all beginning to make a weird kind of sense, now... the nightmares, the unexplained sense of fear when he was alone, his jumpiness at being touched... and the pain he'd been in for the last few days. He hadn't dared let himself feel it. He'd suspected what it was... but it looked like he'd been wrong. Dead wrong. "Agent Doggett?" Skinner's voice was softer, this time. " Are you telling me you have no knowledge of this? Of what happened to put you in these pictures?" Doggett reeled, flashes of pain reverberating through his head, through his body.. remembered pain...being drugged, grogginess, and then the beating... and.. and.. He rose unsteadily to his feet, and began trying to back away for the A.D.'s desk. "Doggett? John?" "No--no.. stay away..." He moaned, and the next thing he'd fallen; he was on all fours, blindly trying to figure out where he was, only someone had him, and wouldn't let him go, and there were hands on him, and oh God, this was going to hurt so much... he struck out wildly, and caught something. Then he struggled as he was forced down onto the floor. He wanted to cry out, but he couldn't get his breath. Someone was forcing something over his face and he couldn't breathe.... Everything went dark. "John?" Doggett heard the voice from very far away. He didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to have to remember. Didn't want to have to explain. "C'mon, John." Weary, concerned voice. A cold cloth was gently draped across Doggett's forehead. It dripped a little. Water ran into his hair and tickled his ear; it made him shiver. He opened his eyes, and the A.D. was there. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and looked exhausted. He also had a nasty bruise; one eye was developing quite a shiner. Even the dim lighting hurt, and Doggett winced at it. "Are you back? " Skinner asked quietly. He eased himself into a rather plush chair beside the bed. Doggett nodded ,warily. " Where..." he rasped, tried again," ...where am I? " Skinner ducked his head for a moment, ran his hand over his face. " I - we-- took you to my place. You're in my guest room. I didn't really know what else to do with you." The pictures, Doggett thought, but didn't say it. " Scully knows? Monica? " Doggett asked, dismayed. Skinner guessed it. " Yeah." Skinner said, " I had her check you out. Agent Reyes... Monica is worried sick. They're in my living room. I've been trying to get Scully to get some rest--of course, she won't do that till she knows you're all right. I did manage to get her to take a break." "Christ. How long have I been here? " Doggett asked, feeling stronger. "We got you here right after your ... episode in my office. It's pretty late, John." "Episode?" "You went into some sort of daze... shock...we managed to walk you out of the building and to my car before you passed out." Skinner reached out towards Doggett, and Doggett flinched. He couldn't help it. Then he saw that the A.D. had only been reaching for his glasses which were sitting on the bedside table. "John." Skinner's voice was soft, unwontedly so. Doggett couldn't trust himself to look at the man, he could feel himself tearing up. He wasn't cut out for this sort of melodramatic crap, but here he was, losing it... because.. because what? Because you are the one who fucked up, that's why. You are the reason why you're in this mess. "John?" Skinner's voice threw Doggett back to another time, another place... Oh, God, no... "Get him!" Betrayal. The worst betrayal. Hands on him, not letting him up.. he was fighting, struggling but he was outnumbered. "Hold him down!" Doggett was screaming obscenities as his jeans were undone, and ripped down his legs.. Legs brutally forced apart... Blinding pain... again, and again, and again, and again... He was huddled in a corner in Skinner's guest room. In defensive mode. Bedcovers trailed from the bed to his feet, he'd pulled them with him when he'd panicked. Dana Scully wanted to go to him, but Doggett was just too panicked, too dangerous. Skinner was afraid to tackle the man, it would be too easy to really cause him damage if Doggett went all out. And Skinner didn't think he needed to feel any sort of threat from a man, especially not one quite a bit bigger than he was. "Agent Doggett!" Scully said, as soothingly as she could, "We need you to be calm, it's okay. You're not in any danger here. You're safe." She tried for calmness, but inside she was terrified. What had happened to this man, so strong and unflappable... to put him in this state? Judging from Skinner's description of the first breakdown in his office, Scully had a very sick feeling that she might know what was going on. Doggett's breath came in harsh gasps. He seemed to be looking at something no-one else could see. A shudder ran though him, and he groaned. Monica Reyes stood nearby, her face deadly white. She seemed torn between the urge to go to Doggett or breaking down into tears herself. She threw an enraged look at Scully. God help whoever had done this to her partner. But Doggett was wilting, now... the storm seemed to be waning. His eyes were dulling, his mouth growing slack. His knees buckled and he collapsed and lay still, breathing raggedly. Scully kneeled at his side, not quite wanting to touch just yet, just observing. Doggett's eyes were open, but held no hint of awareness of his surroundings. He seemed to simply be worn out, and going back into shock. Scully snagged one of the blankets, and very gently laid it over the prone body. He shuddered again, but made no move to defend himself. Is he cycling through whatever ordeal he went through? Scully wondered, watching him closely as his breathing began to slow, and his eyes slid closed. "I need my bag, " She said quietly to Reyes, who left quickly. "What the hell is this, Scully?" Skinner asked, worry and sadness plainly evident in his voice. He was still keeping his distance from the younger man, not wanting to send him into another attack. " Do we need to get him to a hospital?" "Maybe." Scully said shortly. "But I'm worried for his safety. We don't know exactly what happened, who did this..." Reyes returned, medical bag in hand. Scully took it, fished out a hypodermic needle and a vial. " This should calm him down enough for us to figure out what has to be done." She filled the hypo, and used a antiseptic wipe to clean a spot on Doggett's forearm. Doggett's eyes flashed open, and be began to shake. "Hold him, help me out, here." Scully snapped. This time Skinner didn't hesitate. He grabbed the agent and immobilized him, pinning his arms to his sides. Doggett jerked once as Scully plunged the needle home. He moaned something unintelligible, trying desperately to escape from Skinner. Skinner just held him, murmuring soothing nonsense into Doggett's ear ,and finally the agent's struggles began to weaken until he lay slumped in Skinner's arms. Skinner and Reyes sat at the dining room table, drinking coffee. Skinner had brought the file from the office, figuring that he might need some input from his other two agents. "Okay, so looking at these pictures, we can see that this is Agent Doggett's house. " Reyes said. She pointed to one of the pictures. "He looks drugged, out of it. And here... this doesn't look like passion to me. It looks like agony." She swallowed hard, obviously trying to stay in professional mode. " How Kersh could possibly have thought this was something other than a ..." She couldn't say it. "It's also interesting that the photographer managed to make sure the only recognizable face in the photos is Agent Doggett's." Reyes added. "This is the note that was sent to Kersh," Skinner said , handing her a small, square of paper. She read the message out loud. Kinky Agents make headlines. Do you want this sort of publicity for the F.B.I ? "Okay, so I can see why Kersh might have jumped to conclusions. But looking at the pictures...I mean, there are at least four other men in these photos, and Agent Doggett not only looks drugged , but also as if he's being forced." Reyes said, heavily. Scully entered the dining room. She looked worn, exhausted. Reyes and Skinner both looked up at her, worry plain on their faces. "He's doing better. Resting." Scully answered the unasked question. "I took the liberty of ... examining him while he was out. " Her mouth twisted in distaste. "It's obvious from the contusions and bruising around his torso and pelvis, that Agent Doggett was raped. There's some superficial tearing of the... rectal tissue, not too serious, still I'd like to get him on antibiotics to ward off any possible infection. It was most likely a serial rape. No fluids were present, and it's too late to do a rape kit." Scully sighed, wearily. She ambled over to the table, and took a chair. Reyes and Skinner sat dumbly, but the expressions on both their faces were of sadness and anger. "Because of his mental state," Scully continued, "I'd like to get him to a hospital where I can run a tox screen on him, other tests. He could be mildly concussed. He has faint ligature marks on his wrists and ankles, indicating the presence of a soft rope to hold him down--whoever did this didn't want obvious marking." She took a deep breath, not liking what she knew she had to say. "There's something I don't understand. Even if Agent Doggett blocked out the memory of the rape, he had to be feeling the effects of it--this had to have happened very recently-- most likely in the last three or four days. How could he not have realized something was wrong? He had to be in a great deal of pain." Skinner stared at her, uncomprehendingly. Then slowly a light dawned in his eyes, and he bowed his head quickly , cursing under his breath. Reyes understood, and simply buried her head in her hands. " Oh, God, John." Skinner was grim. "This has either happened before... and it's someone he knows--or he's been engaging in behavior that would explain his injuries... at least to him." "Yes, but who?" Scully asked, eyebrows raised. "Who would do this?" Reyes said in a small voice, "I didn't think he'd been seeing anyone... he's pretty much kept to himself since his divorce." "That's what we're going to have to find out," Skinner said, rising from his chair. " I'm going to go make some calls. Somebody get in there with him. I don't want Doggett left alone." Reyes sat at Doggett's bedside, musing over the night's revelations. In sleep the agent's face seemed calm, relaxed. Almost peaceful. What have you been doing to yourself, John? Reyes wondered. Things were beginning to add up. All the assorted "football" injuries---as an explanation for the stiffness in his movements. Black eyes. Bruised chest--she'd seen that once, when he'd had to change in front of her while they were working a case together. Something that had looked like ...welts, on his back. Explained away. Caught by brush while fishing. A fall. She frowned, remembering something... John's reaction to a fellow agent, who had been working in Violent Crimes, where Doggett had been before being assigned to the X-Files. Tall, dark haired. John had seemed ... strange, almost ...diffident... around this man, when he'd shown up in their basement office to ask about a possible connection to an odd series of rape cases. Skinner stood in the doorway, motioned to Reyes. She followed him out into the hallway. Scully was with him, looking as grim as Monica had ever seen her. The A.D. spoke in a near whisper. "I did some digging, made a few calls. There's .. an agent that Doggett's been seeing...romantically." Skinner's face shaded to red. "It seems however, that this guy... well, there's some rumors about his sexual proclivities... and also about what's happened to some of his, ah...lovers. He was almost up on charges at one point, but the complainant ...disappeared." Reyes' brow furrowed. "Do you have a description of this man? Was he tall, dark hair... mustache?" "Yes. You've seen him?" Skinner asked. "He came by the office, looking for assistance on a case. I'd never seen John behave so strangely. It was almost as if he was afraid of the guy, but attracted to him as well." Monica frowned. " I'm trying to remember his name... but it's been a few months since I met him." "Whitechapel?" Skinner supplied. "That's right!" Reyes breathed, eyes wide. "Eddy--Edward. He's got an odd accent, like he grew up in England or something." "Why is he still working with the Bureau?" Scully asked. "That's what I'd like to know." Skinner said, scowling. It was morning, and Doggett opened his eyes to see Skinner by his bedside again. The big man was sleeping in the chair. It couldn't have been comfortable. Maybe he could get out of here before the questions started. He just wasn't feeling up to the questions he knew were coming. Not now. Maybe not ever. Sitting up painfully, Doggett watched the A.D.'s eyes flutter, then focus on him. Busted, Doggett thought. He tried a wry grin, knew he was grimacing instead. "How are you feeling?" Skinner asked, quietly. "Been better." Doggett answered. His throat felt raw. Had he been screaming? He decided Good Old Fashioned Southern Charm might help him out, here. That and a good dose of luck. Maybe he could get out of here with his skin intact. " Sir, I'm truly sorry to have put you through all this for me," he said, " I'll get my stuff and be out of here." "Riiight." Skinner said, dryly. "I don't think so, agent. We need to talk." "I can't." Panicked. The words were out before Doggett could stop himself. "You're going to have to talk to me, there's too much at stake here. And it's not just you that I'm worried about." Skinner seemed to be trying to be gentle, but the command mode was beginning to come through with every word. "Look, Agent Doggett, I don't care about what your sexual habits are, not unless they get in the way of the performance of your duties. Today, they have. Now, what the hell's going on with you and Whitechapel?" Doggett felt all the blood drain from his face at Skinner's words. He knew! That meant Monica.. and Scully and God only knew who else. "It's okay, John. Just tell the truth." Doggett's head snapped up. He was nothing if not scrupulously honest. At least with others, even if not always to himself. Lately. You want plain speakin', Skinner ? The Truth? Well, let's see how well you handle it. "You wanna hear me say that I've been letting this fella fuck me up the ass for months, is that what it is?" Doggett snarled. "That sometimes I got so drunk I blacked out and can't remember what the hell he did to me? He's a real heavy top, and sometimes he hurt me, and I let him. I let him because I needed it. It kept me fucking sane." Doggett was yelling now, and he stopped, hearing himself. Jeezus. I sound crazy, even to myself, Doggett thought. Skinner didn't seem that surprised. That scared Doggett, a little. "Why?" Skinner asked, simply. "I--after Luke, after my marriage... Everything seemed to hurt. I thought I was gonna go crazy. It started out so .. easy. It got to be more and more intense. It's just that I... I was so lonely... so goddamned lonely..." Doggett broke off, ashamed. He felt so absolutely pathetic. Skinner kept his voice gentle. "And why would he try to destroy you? Your career?" "I broke it off with him. It...it got to be too much. He started wantin' to get ...kinky. Wanted to play with...toys, and ... other things. Wanted to watch me with other men." Doggett's voice broke. His hands shook, and he could feel his eyes tearing up again. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and was proud that he managed to look the A.D. in the eye. " He brought that on and I figured enough was enough. I broke it off with him. Said if he kept botherin' me, I'd report him. He was... actin' scary. Crazy. Said I was his. He told me there was no way he'd ever let me do break up with him, and that I'd never file a complaint against him, he'd make certain of it. I guess he was right, because my career's ruined." Doggett gritted his teeth. "No, it's not, John." Skinner said, sincerely, and Doggett threw Skinner a sardonic look. Skinner fixed Doggett with a look. "We don't kick people out of the F.B.I. for being gay, not anymore. Public indiscretion, a reprimand, maybe. Sometimes, if it's bad enough... yes, you could lose your job over it." The A.D. was quiet a moment. "There's a pattern to Whitechapel's behavior, did you know that? He's done this before to other people, but never an agent. At least that's according to some very scary rumors. A few of those people he's said to have dated seem to have gone missing." "That can't be.." Doggett murmured, shocked. "Well, actually--" Skinner said heavily, "--we're not even sure of what his real identity is. His credentials turned out to bogus. Faked. Very slick. There's also a string of unsolved cases surrounding this man." "Unsolved cases?" Doggett asked in a small voice. "Rapes, murders." Skinner cleared his throat and looked Doggett in the eye. "Of other men." "Holy God." Doggett whispered. " I never...I never..." "We don't know where he is, he seems to have disappeared. So you're staying here, where we can keep an eye on you." "I've...I've been an idiot, sir." Doggett stared at the blankets. He looked up at Skinner, expecting to see revulsion and censure. Surprisingly, Skinner slowly took Doggett's hand in his own. "It happens, John. It happens to the best of us." He squeezed Doggett's hand gently, and released it. " I'll bet you're hungry. I know I am. There's some soup in the kitchen, courtesy of your partner. You'll be alright up here for a bit?" "I'm not an invalid, Skinner." Doggett retorted, ignoring Skinner's dubious look. "I'll just come on down, if you don't mind." He started to swing back the covers, and then stopped. " Uh, Skinner? Uhmm, where the hell are my pants?" Part 2 Skinner found Doggett's pants, a thing for which Doggett was eternally grateful. It was also a blessing that he left the agent to get dressed in private. Doggett was still rather shaky, and very sore and he tried hard not to think of the reasons why as he pulled on his charcoal dress slacks. He left the dress shirt and jacket off, and opted to wear the gray t-shirt instead, feeling that comfort was definitely a plus in this situation. He found himself having to take a few deep breaths to steady himself as he left the room and descended the stairs to the kitchen. Hand on the railing, he paused, listening. He could hear Skinner on the phone. "--agent of mine who's in some trouble. Yes, that's correct. There may be a tie in with one of your cases up there, Detective." Doggett swore softly, hating Skinner for checking up on him. He took the stairs, slowly, wincing as each step jarred something, or pulled something... He'd face the music, that was the only thing he could do. Down in the kitchen, the two sat down to tomato soup, French bread with a bit of cheese, and Doggett, sitting at the table across from Skinner, found himself barely able to touch it, though he really couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. Skinner was kind enough to keep conversation to a minimum, behaving as if his agent had lunch with him in his kitchen every other day. But, every now and again Doggett would catch Skinner casting that worried gaze upon him, and finally Doggett's nerves snapped. " I suppose you think I'm some kind of deviant." The words were out before he could stop them. But Skinner only regarded Doggett over his wirerims, and said as tolerantly as Doggett had ever heard him, " John... I just want to understand what happened. How you got here." His expression was open, non-judgmental. "How did you ever meet this guy, John?" Doggett was surprised his reply came so easily. " I met him at the gym. I'd seen him around the Bureau headquarters before, he seemed nice enough. " Doggett said, wondering just when they'd gotten on a first name basis. Hours ago, he realized with a pang. He took a deep breath and continued. "Whitechapel was lifting weights--and he asked me to spot'im." "I did, " Doggett said, " and it turned into a regular thing. And one day, afterwards... we.. ended up at his place, all full of Piss and Vinegar and full of Southern Comfort and I...I just needed somebody. Any. Body. God help me, I deserve what I got." He stopped to take a drink of the milk Skinner had poured for him, but his hands were shaking so badly, he feared he'd drop the glass and make a mess of Skinner's kitchen. He stared at the table. At his hands. Anywhere but at Skinner's face. He felt himself slouching, waiting for the Assistant Director's condemnation. "So what happened?" Skinner asked, simply. Doggett looked up, and Skinner had the most peculiar look on his face... if he hadn't known better, that expression could have been described as...sympathetic? Nah. Maybe. Doggett swallowed hard, and continued." I... got what I needed from him... someone to pretend he loved me, and having him... helped me forget some of my own pain. But what he started giving me was the pain he needed me to feel... with his belt, an extension cord, his.." Doggett's breath caught in his throat, but he choked the words out, " ..his fist. And I actually thought I could love him anyway. Hell, I don't know... it's like I couldn't say no to him, even when I wanted him to stop. I just... let him do whatever he wanted to me." "But you managed to break it off with him," Skinner interjected, a little sharply. Doggett looked up again at that, looked into Skinner's eyes and realized that Skinner was actually pulling for him. It helped. He found his voice again. "Yeah. When Edward started talkin' `bout having me be with ...other... men so he could watch, I couldn't take it any more. It's like I woke up, or somethin'. And he lost it, went crazy scary, and he tried to beat me again. This time I fought back." He took another deep breath. " This time, I won." Doggett wished he could have found any shred of self worth, of pride in himself at being able to utter that last sentence. But he couldn't. He was too tired, too exhausted... and he was broken and he knew it. He had remembered what Whitechapel and his hired goons had done to him... in his own house, where he would never feel safe again. And he knew how pathetic that sounded , even to him, and it just didn't seem to matter. He stared again at the table, doing his best to avoid Skinner's eyes. Suddenly he felt a warm, calloused hand enclose his own with gentle strength. He looked up at Skinner, surprised. "You fought him, John." Skinner murmured. " You fought him and took back your life; you did win." Skinner squeezed Doggett's hand, not gently. But it was comforting, nevertheless. Doggett dragged in a ragged breath, but managed a slight, teary grin. He squeezed Skinner's hand back, but did not withdraw it. A long moment passed. "Assistant Director?" Scully's voice rang out. The sound of the front door closing jolted Skinner and Doggett back into mundanity; they parted, Doggett giving a self-deprecating chuckle, Skinner's face sliding back into bland professionalism. Scully entered the kitchen, tastefully attired as usual, shades of taupe and pale green silk. " I took the liberty of using my key, " she said, then shot Doggett a dagger-glance. " Agent Doggett, whatever are you doing out of bed?" "Having brunch. I'm fine, Agent Scully." Doggett drawled, knowing that answer would stave her off for approximately the next three fucking seconds. Sure enough, a moment later Scully's hand was clamped to his forehead. " You look a little flushed, " she said, clinically. "I'm, ah.. blushing." "Sorry." Scully frowned. She dropped her hand and moved away, settling delicately upon another chair, closer to Skinner. She fixed that razor-gaze on Doggett again. " We're just concerned for you, John." Doggett felt his shoulders knotting up. Now she's doing it too. All of sudden everybody's using my first name, just because ... for God's sake, Scully, I'm not a child. His jaw clenched with the effort it took to keep from snapping at her. But Skinner saw his discomfort, and with a smoothness Doggett wouldn't have believed, drew Scully aside and said very quietly, " He's doing better, Agent Scully. I've been keeping an eye on him." And he just as smoothly changed the subject. " So did you found out anything?" Scully glanced rather worriedly at Doggett. Skinner stood, shoulders back, face impassive as ever. Doggett tried to make his own expression just as bland as Skinner's. It wasn't working. He could feel his eyebrows knotting up and a deep scowl forming, it was dragging his upper lip into a grimace. He was going to look like a psychotic Shar-pei. He quashed the notion of doing Skinner-face and slid into his own habitual mask of irritated forbearance. It didn't help that he knew he was blushing. Again. Crap. He's lost the thread of the conversation. It came rushing into his awareness in a wave that nearly knocked him off his feet when he heard Scully say, "Okay. So we know that Whitechapel's a textbook psychopath; a true predator. How did this guy get into the FBI?" She paused a moment looking thoughtful. "Also, consider the name," Scully continued. " Whitechapel. Whitechapel was one of the districts in the East End of London, where the killings attributed to Jack the Ripper occurred. He was sometimes called the `Whitechapel Murderer' And Edward may be alluding to Prince Albert Victor Christian Edward, the Duke of Clarence, was who as also known as Eddy. He was once thought to have been the Ripper, though that notion was proven to have no basis in fact." However, the legend persists." Skinner snorted. " Don't tell me. He's a reincarnate of Jack the Ripper? Like as in Star Trek, or something? " He put his hands on his hips and gave a small, wry grin. It was not a smile that indicated that he was amused, however. "You watched Star Trek?" Doggett asked, weakly. Skinner scowled at him. Scully shook her head at Skinner, saying, " No, that was an immortal spirit that kept invading other people's bodies. More likely he's a copycat. " She looked amused. " You watched Star Trek?" "What the hell!" Doggett said acidly, " You two think I was having a relationship with freaking Jack the Ripper? A Ghost?" "Whitechapel, Agent Scully, " Skinner prodded; ignoring Doggett. "I've been able to trace him through several different names through his assets and through a few dozen unsolved murder cases." Scully reported. " From what I can tell, they started out as basic murder mutilations, no rape. All women. Then the murders stopped. Then more murders, this time young boys , add to that the new addition of rape.. Then young men. Then older men. Groups of five to seven for each set. After each set of murders was completed, there would be a span of twenty years or so, before the killings would begin again. Each time the killings seem to get more violent, more sadistic." "Same M.O., but progressive, then? " Skinner asked. " Same profile is consistent?" "Yes, " Scully answered. " But it seems that there's a convoluted history with this man that seems to jump back and forth in a timeline that spans at least a hundred and fifteen years. Which is impossible. Which means this is an X-File, if I ever saw one." Edward Whitechapel reclined in his leather chair and smiled to himself as he looked at the picture of John, taken so very recently. It was amazing how delectable the man looked in restraints, ah... and very nicely marked. He picked up a snifter of brandy from the mahogany end table next to him, and raised it to his lips. He sipped it precisely, enjoying the mellow burn. The trappings of this rather small room were ornate, almost overdone-- a collection of Victorian rugs and paintings, Tudor furniture juxtaposed unabashedly with modern amenities. Not bad for a cellar hidden deep beneath a warehouse. A bit over-furnished, and a little crowded, but it would do. He had John to thank for his present situation. John, and ... perhaps his own misjudgment of John's resilience. He'd sent a few prints of this particular batch of photographs to John's Director at the FBI, hoping to put a scare into his ungrateful lover. Maybe he'd see sense after losing his job. Then he'd be dependent on Edward.. who would take care of him, after a few choice punishments. He looked at the photo again, frowning a little. His plan should have worked. It had worked before.. with the others... Edward remembered the night he'd taken this particular picture. Very nice, very hot. That look of fear and pain on John's face... one tear shining in the corner of his eye.. mouth open and wet with his silent sobs... Whitechapel shivered a little as the sheer memory of that night's pleasure sent a pang of pleasure throughout his body. But he'd lost John, despite all his careful training, despite all his love. John had, during one of his training sessions, reverted back to the behavior of a novice--, become entirely disobedient.. and actually had dared to raise a hand to his Master. Had struck him! Edward had forgotten just how strong the ex-Marine was, and the resulting bruises he'd gotten from Doggett, though lovely and colorful, were entirely inappropriate. He'd punished John... and it had been... very enjoyable. Watching the four men he'd picked out especially for their cruelty have their way with his lover had been an electrifying experience. He'd drugged John to make sure he would not fight, but would be fully aware of what was happening to him. Yes. That was important. He's taken picture after picture, barely able to contain his own desire. But John had reacted very badly. Very badly, indeed. He'd been loathe to leave him there, alone as he did, but there really had been no alternative. But he shouldn't have. Edward was worried that he might have broken John Doggett. And he loved the bright spirit of the man, that fire. Had he dimmed it's light, forever? And now, John was gone... vanished. No sign of him at home, and not at the FBI headquarters. Had he pushed the man too hard? Maybe the pictures weren't such a good idea, after all. Well, Edward would simply have to get him back. And very carefully, for it seemed that Doggett's friends had found out about Edward Whitechapel--and were making inquiries into his life and whereabouts. His present sanctuary should serve for now, but he would eventually have to retrieve his lover and then disappear. Either that , or John Doggett would have to die. Like all the others. Part 3 FBI Headquarters, 3:35 PM. X-Files Office Agent Monica Reyes sat at her desk, frowning intently as she dialed the number Skinner had given her. "Special Victim's Unit, Stabler." "Hello, Detective Stabler? I'm Special Agent Reyes with the FBI. Our Assistant Director said that you might have some information for us related to a case we're working on." "Uh, yeah, the Whitechapel case?" "Yes, that's right. " "Let's see, his name's not Whitechapel... but you knew that, right?" "We had an idea that might be the case." We've been running up against some strange inconsistencies in the records--we know he's got a helluva record and did time up here at Rikers, also at Oswald Correctional down in Baltimore, but Oz itself has no record. The only records we have of where he was sent were the hard copy files here at the House. Nothing on the computer. But they're really old files. We think he escaped and they covered their asses. But there are other things wrong with this picture. Really wrong. " "Oh, really?" Reyes asked as a subtle chill settled into her bones. Detective Stabler sounded vaguely uneasy. " Yah. It's a little clearer with visual aids. Got a fax number?" The afternoon light filtered through the Venetian blinds of A.D. Skinner's living room, making the dust motes shimmer and sparkle. Doggett was half sprawled on the plush leather couch, lazily, almost drowsing after the brunch in Skinner's kitchen. He would have slept, if he could have just stopped thinking. He should have been worried about Whitechapel. About the damage the man he'd once thought of as a lover had done to him, to his career. He still couldn't get his brain to accept any notion of a tie with Jack the Ripper. Didn't want to. It was just too much. He consciously "not-worried" about the little things. He should have been worried that he was ensconced within his Assistant Director's living room, propped up with a pillow, with of all things, a cotton throw Skinner said he'd gotten from his mother. All he seemed able to do at the moment was think of Skinner. His ability to be tender, yet strong. How gentle the man could be, for all his apparent gruffness in the office, in the trenches. In the trenches... Doggett remembered how very carefully, how gently Skinner had treated him after his brush with death. Or rather, after his resurrection brought about by a monstrous creature that Doggett wouldn't have believed existed if he hadn't been ...eaten by it, himself. And then regurgitated back to life, bewildered, lost, dazed, a newborn in a sense. Weak as a kitten, after the initial rush. But Skinner had been there, and had held him all that night in the motel while Doggett had clutched the pristine white rim of the hotel toilet and heaved for an hour. And then, Skinner had held him as he wept; and again as he shivered uncontrollably ; and afterwards taken him to bed that night and held him the night through, warming him, keeping him safe from the monsters who heal through consuming the sick. Or the dead. That was when Skinner first began calling him by his first name. But the next day, Skinner had given him his space, and had afforded him the luxury of hiding behind his status as an Agent. Back to business as usual. And it had helped. Until one night, he'd awakened drenched in sweat, swearing that he could hear his own screams reverberating off the walls of his own bedroom. He'd called Skinner, and then lamely apologized for the hour, hung up. And then Skinner had shown up at his house in Falls Church, two o'clock in the A.M. and there's Skinner outside his door, wantin' to know if he wants to talk. If he's alright. And they talked till dawn. This time , Skinner took the couch. Never quite got around to first name basis, either. But the warmth was there. It never left. The ringing of the phone made Doggett jump. "What?" Doggett could hear Skinner's voice from the foyer. He sounded .. perturbed. "Alright, Agent Scully, keep me posted." Doggett heard Skinner moving around, and then he appeared in the entrance to the living room. "Agent Doggett." Skinner's expression was blasted, tired. Back to first name basis. " Sir?" Doggett sat up straight. This was a bad sign. "They've found a body. And more pictures. Like yours. Male. Your height, your build and age group. Blue eyes. Butchered, while in restraints." "God...dammit." Doggett softly murmured to himself. Part 4 Doggett found himself up and off the couch, before he'd even registered that he's moved. He was shaking again, but controlled it with an iron will. Skinner seemed genuinely dismayed at what he was going to say next. He cleared his throat. "Agent Doggett, there's something else you should know." How bad could this get? Doggett wondered, with a growing sense of trepidation, and then the irony of that thought caught him, and he had to stifle a giggle. Great. I'm going to get hysterical now? Put a clamp on it, Agent. He swallowed. It was hard. He had no spit. "The man they found... he was.. " Skinner said, almost gruffly, "... disemboweled." The big man removed his glasses, swiped a big hand over his eyes, and put his glasses back on, stalling for time. Another deep breath. Finally he said it, almost matter-of-factly. " Scully says that by the condition of the body and the extent of the man's injuries, it was obvious that he'd been tortured for days. And then just strung up like a piece of meat-- " Doggett doubled over, clutching his belly, feeling as if he were at lost at sea in a fragile boat being buffeted by the worst Nor'easter this side of the Atlantic. He staggered drunkenly toward the bathroom, mortified that he wouldn't make it in time. Suddenly Skinner was supporting him, guiding him with a strong arm and a gentle voice, though Doggett couldn't figure out what the hell the man was saying... and then the lights came on, and the seat was up, and then Doggett was on his knees heaving so hard he thought he'd pass out from it. But Skinner was there, holding him all the while. Again. If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Raven Morgan Leigh
11392533	Just The Two Of Us	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster, Min Yoongi \| Suga", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by DancingSkys", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "3,813", "Additional Tags": "No Smut, instead you get this, Domestic Fluff, Domestic, cuties being cuties, Fluff, Cute, Tickling, Cuddling & Snuggling, honestly guys this is just domestic fluffy relationship stuff, we all need it, Don't deny it, just read and bask in the fluff, sushi boyfriend returns, We all need sushi boyfriend", "Relationship": "Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster/Min Yoongi \| Suga", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Be Mine, Baby", "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 }	“Pizza or pasta?”“Hm.”“Well?”“Sounds great.”Yoongi looked up from the menu slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Pizza or pasta?”“Of course.”The student took a slow, deep breath, scowl sneaking onto his face. “Pizza or pasta?” he said lowly.“Sure.”“Which one?”“Hm.”“NAMJOON!”The lawyer almost fell off the couch, readjusting his glasses and looking at Yoongi, who was glaring at him, with big eyes. “W-what?” he asked in a disoriented manner, newspaper down on the floor and the younger groaned loudly. “For the hundredth time: Do you want pizza or pasta?” he grumbled in an annoyed manner, waiting for a response impatiently. He was freaking hungry after all. “Oh um… you choose, honey.”Yoongi roared like an angry dinosaur. “You are so useless!” he yelled before snatching the lawyer’s cellphone and calling the delivery service, ordering a pizza , thank you very much… and some pasta for his stupid boyfriend please. “There,” he said grumpily, throwing the phone back onto the couch. Namjoon was already back to his stupid newspaper.The food arrived and Yoongi skipped over to the door - he was starving, okay? - paying the delivery guy - no, Namjoon wouldn’t mind - and grabbing the carton with a box of pasta on top, settling in the living room and taking the newspaper away from the older who looked at him in a puzzled manner before he smelled the food and went for the pasta with an excited ‘Ooh’ sound. He munched on his food, Yoongi staring at him the whole time but the older didn’t realize any of that, he was busy checking his phone and typing some messages with one hand.“Joon,” he said once his pizza had been devoured and he was seated on the couch again, the older not even looking up and just humming in question. “Pay attention to me,” Yoongi whined childishly, hanging half off the couch in an attempt to get Namjoon to look at him but the lawyer just chuckled at his phone’s screen and patted the boy’s head. “Uhu.” The younger kicked his legs in annoyance. “Joonie.”“Mhm.”“You’re boring.”“Hm.”“Entertain me.”“Yeah.”Yoongi snorted, rolling his eyes and staying silent for some moments before he looked at the older again. “Joon?”“Hm.”“Can I buy new producing equipment?”“Mhm.”“With your card?”“Hm.”A devilish grin sneaked onto the student’s face and he opened the camera app on his phone, angling it so it was pointed at a still very much immersed Namjoon discretely. “Can I go for a ride with your car?” he asked just like before, the lawyer still as clueless as ever. “Sure.”“You know I don’t have my liscence yet, right?”“Hm.”“And can we go see a movie of my choice this weekend?”“Mhm.”“Can I borrow some of your clothes?”“Hm.”“And I think I’m gonna shave my head.”“Okay.”Yoongi almost choked, trying to keep his laughters in. It was strangely funny although he was still annoyed about the other glorious ability to just completely ignore what was happening around him which he liked to do when he was a bit stressed and wanted to relax or was too immersed into something seemingly more interesting than his whining boyfriend. The younger asked himself if he did that with his clients as well.“Can we go to Hawaii?”“Yeah.”“I’m gonna adopt a cat.”“Hm.”“And put it here.”“Hm.”“You fully agree to everything I have said just now, right?” Yoongi asked, smirking at his phone and watching the elder through the screen.“Hm,” was once again all he got as an answer before he turned off the recording and shoved the other with his foot slightly. “Namjoon!” he whined, the older looking at him with a slightly annoyed expression. “What, Yoongi?”Oh oh, Namjoon only rarely used Yoongi’s actual name, always showering him with the most ridiculous nicknames he could come up with or with endearments such as honey, sweetheart, love or pumpkin. The student pulled his foot back, currently lying on his back, and looking up at the elder with sad puppy eyes. “I wanna cuddle and watch a movie… and maybe get a kiss,” he said with a small voice, Namjoon deflating visibly. Damn was he whipped. He sighed and beckoned the other over, Yoongi crawling into his lap and snuggling into his boyfriend’s chest. “Fine,” the elder said, giving the boy the remote of the TV. “You choose.”The student grinned in victory, getting more comfortable on his human body pillow and choosing Pirate’s of the Caribbean for tonight, snorting whenever Captain Jack Sparrow pulled off another stupid stunt and thinking the man on screen was a bit similar to his clumsy lover sometimes.“Are you busy?” Yoongi asked quietly at some point, still watching what was happening on the screen but he could both feel and hear Namjoon sighing. “Just a lot going on at work at the moment,” the older said, Yoongi taking on of his hands and playing with his fingers absentmindedly. “But you have to remember to rest, okay?”Namjoon smiled softly and stroked his lover’s hair. “Of course, honey. I need to be well rested for when I screw you in the mattress, right?”Yoongi stopped his fiddling and looked up at the stupidly grinning lawyer with an unamused expression. “You are greatly talented at ruining the mood,” he said flatly, the older laughing out loud. “And you’re not even sorry about it.”“Not at all,” the lawyer said with a grin.“Sometimes I’m really asking myself if you are an actual lawyer like… what kind of lawyer says these kind of things,” Yoongi muttered, squeaking slightly as he was moved so he was lying across the elder’s legs, back arched over the limbs and looking up at Namjoon curiously. “I’m a very serious lawyer, Mr. Min,” the older said in an overly serious tone, almost like he was talking to a child. “And I make sure bad boys receive their punishment for acting up.”The student rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile at the other’s overly formal tone. “Okay, Mr. Lawyer. Now come down here and kiss me.”“Are you try to seduce a juror?” Namjoon asked in an almost offended manner, leaning down and tickling Yoongi’s sides which caused the younger to squirm and squeak again. “No!” Yoongi squealed, kicking his legs in an attempt to get the other’s hands off of him but Namjoon would have none of that, propping up his leg slightly so it would be more difficult for the younger to escape.“As the offender of such a horrible crime I must ask you to state your full name for the protocol,” Namjoon said, digging his fingertips back into Yoongi’s side and continuing with his tickle attack. “Min Yoongi!” the student screeched, arching his back in an attempt to get away.“Thank you, you may resume your seat. You are being accused of attempted seduction of an innocent juror, is that correct?”Yoongi was trying to stifle his laughter and turned slightly so he was on his side, curling into Namjoon’s stomach and trying to hide but it didn’t help at all. “Yes,” he managed to say, trying to push the elder’s hands away while giggling.“Do you plead guilty of this crime?”“I’m innocent!” Yoongi called, laughing a second later and throwing his head back. “Joonie!” he whined, interrupting himself with laughter and kicking his legs like a child.“If you would please look at page 4, paragraph 7 of the report. It clearly states that the victim has accused you of using your irresistible charm to lure him into giving you a kiss. Would this refresh your recollection?” Namjoon asked, Yoongi still giggling and squirming in his lap and the sight was just adorable. “Maybe,” was the giggly answer he got from the other.“Would it be fair to say you were aware of your actions at that time?” the lawyer continued with his courtroom voice, sounding ridiculous in such a situation but Yoongi seemed to think it was incredibly funny. Well, that or he was just extremely ticklish which the elder knew to be true, moving to a extremely sensitive spot.“YES!” Yoongi yelped, jumping slightly before the giggles took over again.“Marked as evidence,” Namjoon hummed and nodded his head. “The court will proceed to sentencing now. Mr. Min Yoongi, you have been found guilty of attempting to seduce an innocent juror and will be sentenced to receiving five big smooches everyday.” He slapped his boyfriend’s butt lightly to seal the punishment. “You will receive your punishment right now.”“Noo,” Yoongi whined, leaning up and wiggling back into position, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s neck as the older leaned down and connected their lips.“You little criminal,” the lawyer teased after they parted again and Yoongi grinned, pulling him back down. “Four left to go,” he said and the older complied without any complains. Why did lectures always have to be so boring?Why was the sky blue?Why did Yoongi’s desk wobble?Why did he have to sit here and why couldn’t be sleep?Why was he hungry?Urgh.A heavy sigh left the student’s mouth and he leaned his hand onto the back of his hand, looking at the front in a bored manner, tapping his pencil again his notebook. He could be home and do something productive like sleep or mix some music but instead he was trapped in this hellhole of a lecture and had to listen to this stupid professor who went on and on about a topic the student couldn’t remember anymore. He had really tried listening but the words had just jumbled together and he had been left to stare at the front with a blank mind.He didn’t even have one of his friend in this class, sighing yet again and rubbing his forehead. Another look at his phone told him he had twenty minutes to go and he almost whined at that but he didn’t want to freak out the girl next to him who took notes like her life was on the line, half sprawled over the desk and writing with her notebook laid out horizontally and twisting her upper body to still write on the lines.Now, Yoongi wasn’t a judging person but that looked the slightest bit uncomfortable.He grimaced and went back to dozing off, tapping his foot every few seconds and sighing softly, checking his phone and praying for the minutes to pass which they seemed to do even slower each time he took a look at the screen. After figuring the minutes wouldn’t pass any faster he went over to staring at the wall blankly, not doing anything and it felt like an eternity until the shrill sound of the bell woke him from his slumber. Without waiting even a second the male shoved everything in his bag and stood up to leave, the girl from before looking up in an disorientated manner.The student was quick to walk through the long hallways, dodging people in something similar to a dance and pushing open the doors that lead to eternal freedom… until tomorrow morning.Urgh.He walked across the parking lot, grumbling some things to himself and trying to figure out what he should get to eat as he was shaken from his thoughts.“Yoongi!”He looked up slightly disorientated, eyes switching around until they fell onto the owner of the voice, blinking a few times in surprise at seeing Namjoon standing there in his work clothes next to his sleek black car, waving and smiling at him. Some people had stopped to look at the lawyer and his obviously expensive car, others were whispering to each other.Yoongi stalked closer slowly, pulling up his shoulders slightly as if he was trying to hide. “What are you doing here?” he asked quietly once he had arrived in front of Namjoon who just beamed down at him. “Decided to pick you up,” he said with a shrug, opening the passenger door for Yoongi and gesturing for him to get in. “You hungry?”Once the student had overcome the initial shock he nodded his head with a soft smile. “Starving, actually.” He climbed into the R8 as Namjoon had told him at some point and the student had almost spit out his drink at the price, putting a hand on his chest and staring at his boyfriend with big eyes, the latter had just grinning and shrugging. ‘I saved up for a while for this’ was his explanation but Yoongi still couldn’t believe he had been unaware of the vehicle’s price for so long.“Well, that’s good timing. Where do you wanna go?” Namjoon asked as he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled the door close, turning on the engine that came to life with a low purr, Yoongi smirking the slightest bit as some guys pointed at the car excitedly or even whipped out their phones, a few girls close by trying to figure out what was going on. “I dunno,” the student said, turning back to his boyfriend. “What did you have in mind?”Namjoon hummed thoughtfully, looking left and right before pulling onto the main street. “What about… Chinese. Do you wanna have Chinese?”“Sounds good,” Yoongi said, sliding down a bit in his seat to get more comfortable, fiddling with the radio until he was satisfied with the song that was playing.So they ended up at a Chinese restaurant, munching away of their food and talking about their day until Namjoon suddenly whipped out a small box in the shape of a red car, Yoongi slurping some more noodles into his mouth and swallowing before he looked up at the older curiously. “What’s that?” he asked, taking the box as the lawyer handed it to him. “Congrats on getting your driver’s license,” Namjoon said with a smile, Yoongi opening the box which contained a keychain on a small cushion, the pendant a silver car. “For when you get your own car one day,” Namjoon said with a grin, Yoongi pursing his lips in an unamused manner and looking up at the older who obviously thought the situation was beyond funny.“And here I was about to thank you for getting me something,” Yoongi grumbled and sighed, taking the small pendant out of the box and looking at it. “It even has lights,” the older said excitedly, pressing a small switch on the car’s bottom, the headlights of it suddenly lighting up like a miniature flashlight. “Isn’t that cool?”Yoongi rolled his eyes but had to smile nevertheless. “Yeah, really cool. Everyone’s gonna be so jealous.” Leave it to Namjoon to come up with a lame gift like this which was still able to make Yoongi smile.They continued their meal, the elder paying the bill and by now Yoongi didn’t object anymore. The older had a steady job after all, he was only a student so he was pretty much borderline broke most of the time - thankfully his parents had agreed to pay for his license - and the elder liked playing for him so who was he to object? He wouldn’t be able to afford the fancy places where Namjoon took him sometimes anyway. They walked across the parking lot back towards the lawyer’s car when he suddenly called Yoongi’s name, the latter turning around and spluttering slightly, only barely managing to catch the object the other had thrown at him, eyes widening as he realized what it was. He looked up at Namjoon questioningly, the older just smiling.“What? You can drive now.”Yoongi was still gaping slightly, the Audi car key feeling pretty foreign in his hand. “B-but… that’s your car,” he said slowly, unsure of what to think.Namjoon just shrugged. “You’re my boyfriend. What keeps me from letting you drive?”“B-but… it’s… that’s… expensive…” Yoongi babbled, feeling a bit overwhelmed which made the lawyer laugh and pat his head. “It’s just like any other car. Don’t crash it and we’ll be fine. So, you wanna drive?”It took the younger a few moments, staring at the older, then the car key in his hand and then finally the black car itself, feeling a rush of excitement go through his body and nodding his head enthusiastically.They stayed in the parking lot for another ten minutes, Namjoon letting Yoongi adjust the seat and mirrors and finally explaining a few things and what to watch out for. The student was beyond excited and slightly nervous about driving such a car. It was expensive and fast and he had only driving the driving school cars which weren’t really that amazing. He kind of felt powerful sitting behind the wheel, Namjoon next to him and just… it was a strange feeling but one he could get used to.He started the engine, a small sound of surprise escaping his mouth as the steering wheel vibrated a bit, Namjoon snickering beside him. He let Yoongi do his thing, the student testing the waters slowly because he was slightly intimidated by what the car could do if he used the gas pedal a bit too much. From 0 to 100 in about 3.4 seconds, that was one hell of a monster so he was pretty cautious with the gas pedal, slowly trying to get used to the car and how it responded differently to the one he had driven previously.The lawyer looked pretty relaxed which made Yoongi feel a bit safer, not knowing what he would have done if Namjoon had been one of those really panicky passengers. He just gave some advice from time to time, telling Yoongi he was getting too close to parking cars and giving him the directions because the student was way too focused on the driving part to pay attention to where exactly he was going, something he didn’t had to think about in driving school.The car roared and jumped slightly as he pressed the gas pedal a bit too hard after waiting at a red light, Namjoon just mumbling a small ‘whoops’ after Yoongi’s soft squeak but nothing happened since the street in front of them was empty. They arrived home safely, needing to go back and forth a few times until the car was in the parking space correctly and the younger slumped back with a huff once the engine was silent.“Well, that was pretty good,” Namjoon said with a grin, Yoongi raising an eyebrow at him. “Really?” he asked, feeling strangely exhausted although it had only been about half an hour of actual driving time. The older nodded his head. “Yeah, I wasn’t that good when I started and I did not start with a car like this so good job.” He patted his lover’s thigh before opening the door and getting out, Yoongi following him and locking the car which still felt a bit strange, jogging to catch up the older who was holding the elevator.“Here,” the student said once they had kicked off their shoes inside the lawyer’s apartment, holding the key out towards Namjoon who turned back to look at him, shaking his head with a smile. “Keep it, it’s yours. I have mine here.” He shooed his own keys. “Who knows when you’ll need it.”Yoongi gaped at him with big eyes. “You… you’ll really let me drive? Even without you?” he asked and Namjoon laughed, ruffling his hair. “Sure, just don’t get into an accident.”The younger needed a moment to let everything sink in before he latched onto Namjoon, hugging him close. “You are a pretty damn cool boyfriend, you know that?” he mumbled into the other’s chest who kissed the top of his head. “I’m doing my best.”Yoongi grinned happily, pressing a bit smooch onto the lawyer’s cheek. “You’re the best.” He snuggled back into his chest, the elder running a hand through his hair which he was allowed to do now that they were home, kissing the younger’s head affectionately. “Am I?” he asked with a chuckle, Yoongi humming in confirmation. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you are.”“Hm… I like the sound of that… ‘The Best’.”Yoongi breathed out a small laugh and rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too used to it,” he mumbled, still staying in the elder’s embrace and closing his eyes to enjoy the moment. Namjoon just couldn’t resist. He saw the younger sprawled out on the couch innocently but his mind was racing, heart beating in his chest and eyes glued to the boy’s frame. His hands were twitching, eager to act but he tried to resist the urge, feeling like he was trying to hold back a wild horse. It was so difficult, he didn’t know how long he would be able to withstand his carving but he gave his best to be civilized.Just then Yoongi decided to sigh loudly, mumbling something under his breath and shifting onto his side, pulling his legs closer and curling his hand into loose fists, releasing a soft breath once he had settled, a small smile gracing his face.Damn, Namjoon was beyond whipped and he just couldn’t stop himself anymore, sneaking into his bedroom and picking up something special he loved using on the younger, looking at Yoongi over the backrest of the couch once he was back and grinning slightly. He prepared everything for his plan before picking up a sleepy Yoongi that hadn’t fallen asleep just yet, the latter blinking his eyes open and humming in question, trying to look around.The older laid him down on the floor, Yoongi trying to get up but the lawyer was faster, picking up the edges of the fluffy, red blanket and rolling his boyfriend into a perfect sushi roll with practised ease, finally satisfied. He picked up his sushi boyfriend and moved back to the couch, said sushi roll glaring at him sleepily but couldn’t complain when he was laid down again with a pillow under his head, Namjoon lying down as well and pulling Yoongi into his chest, throwing one leg over him possessively.Yoongi sighed heavily. “I didn’t know you had a blanket bondage kink,” he mumbled sleepily, readjusting his head on the pillow and managing to angle his arms so his hands could curl into the blanket edge just under his chin. “Hm, only with you, honey,” Namjoon said with a grin, pressing a small kiss to the younger’s nose who scrunched it up in response.“I like it… but I never said that,” the student said quietly, eyes closing again.“Of course not,” Namjoon chuckled, brushing some hair out of the other’s face before he shook his head and closed his eyes as well.Who didn’t love cuddling with their very own sushi boyfriend after all?
11308371	Mr Future Banker	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Charlie Dalton, Neil Perry (Dead Poets Society)", "Fandom": "Dead Poets Society (1989)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by pony_express", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-26T00:00:00", "words": "100", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Charlie Dalton/Neil Perry", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "A - Z Dead Poet's Society Drabbles", "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 }	He's going to make Neil pay for that comment.Mr Future Banker is he? Well, he'll just see about making 'deposits' into Neil's 'account'. He grinned to himself well formulating his plan. He'd push Neil against the wall harder than he's pushed before. He'd bite down into Neil's flesh harder than he's bitten before.Mr Future Banker indeed. He'll show Neil.And the best thing about it was that it would be all been seen, to Neil at least, as a comfort. A means to forget that conversation. Yeah, Neil's never going to forget it. For a very different reason.
11358744	Prove his worth	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Heath Slater, Rhino \| Rhyno (Professional Wrestling)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-30T00:00:00", "words": "1,573", "Additional Tags": "Community: wrestlingkink, Dubious Consent, Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Doubt, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Kissing, Misunderstandings", "Relationship": "Rhino \| Rhyno/Heath Slater", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "World Wrestling Entertainment, Professional Wrestling", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"You really messed this one up." Rhyno threw his bag hard against his hotel bed, making Heath wince."I know. I'm sorry."They had lost another match tonight, and again it had been Heath who had been pinned. It didn't look good for them. The Tag Team Championships were far away from them now."Sorry isn't good enough." Rhyno looked angry, really angry.Heath stopped unlacing his boots. His fingers were trembling. "You don't want to...?" His voice was shaky. "We can still become Champs again...""Really? I start to doubt that. Maybe we should end this.""No!"They'd had this discussion before, on Talking Smack. But this time they were alone. Heath didn't have to act tough. He could be as pathetic as he felt. "I don't want this team to break up! I... I'll do whatever you want. I'll train harder than ever before..."He felt so useless. Everyone thought that he was the weak link in their tag team... and they were right about that."Whatever I want?" Rhyno lifted an eyebrow. There was something, just a spontaneous idea. He was stressed and needed some release. "How about you use your loud mouth for something useful for a change?" He threw his jacket on his bed and opened his belt. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.Heath stared at him. Did Rhyno mean...? He had done things like that before, with other guys. But he had thought that Rhyno was different. He had thought that they were a team, friends... that Rhyno was interested in him as a person. Of course, he had been wrong. No one was interested in him as a person. He was annoying. He knew that. He couldn't change it. It was just who he was."Come on, Heath. If you don't want this team to break up, work for it." Rhyno dropped his pants and boxers and started to stroke his already half-hard dick.His tag partner went down on his knees. It wouldn't be that bad, he told himself. They'd had a shower after their match about half an hour ago. He needed Rhyno. He had been a four-time Tag Team Champion, but he had never won a single title in his career. Without Rhyno, he was nothing. He would be a joke again, just like he had been before. When Rhyno had become his partner, the fans had started to respect him again, for the first time since The Corre.Rhyno grabbed his head, and Heath opened his mouth. He had to be good. He knew it. So he didn't want to hold back, despite being disgusted with himself. However, he didn't have a chance to use his tricks as Rhyno just pushed deep into him until he hit the back of his throat. Heath gasped and retched. His partner made a noise and pulled away, only to thrust into him again... and then again.It didn't take long. Heath was busy trying to breathe and not vomit, the taste of sweat and precum on his tongue. But he knew he had no reason to complain. He barely had anything to do. Rhyno was in control of the action, his hand buried in Heath's hair, pushing back and forth, grunting. And then it was over. Heath was a little surprised but automatically swallowed his creamy load.The older man stepped back and dropped on his bed. Heath didn't move for a moment, although some saliva and sperm dripped down his chin. He wanted to make sure Rhyno was satisfied. Obviously he was as he was lying quietly on his bed. Heath got up and went to his bag, hoping this meant their team wouldn't break up. He felt dirty and needed another shower. Some days later, Heath got pinned again and they lost another match. It was just a house show, but it was nonetheless a loss. When they were back in their hotel room, Heath got down on his knees."I want more this time," Rhyno said."More?" Heath looked up at him, confused and innocent.For a moment, Rhyno wondered if he went too far, but there was this sudden craving for the younger man welling up inside of him. Heath had offered to do what he wanted, and right now he wanted him. If Heath had declined, he wouldn't have forced him. But Heath didn't. Instead, he got up and undressed. Then he took a tube of lube and a condom out of his bag and gave them to Rhyno. He didn't want this. He was scared. However, he knew he deserved this. It was his own fault that he couldn't win any matches.So he climbed onto Rhyno's bed and got on his hands and knees. He knew he had to relax. It would hurt less then. But... easier said than done. His career was on the line. It had to be good for his partner. He had to be good.Rhyno wasn't brutal. He prepared him with his fingers and then just fucked him until he came. It only hurt a little bit. Heath was relieved. It could have been worse.In the next few weeks, they repeated this every time they lost a match because of Heath. He was sure it was his punishment... It was his own fault. He was a slacker, always had been. He could have trained until he got a body like Bálor, or he could have learned some of those lucha things. Sometimes he did high-flying maneuvers, but it was nothing compared to the 205 guys. He could have even tried to become a powerhouse like... like Rhyno. But he hadn't done any of those things. He was just mediocre.While he was thinking about that, he wondered why Rhyno was still with him. He deserved better than that. Heath didn't understand why Rhyno was willing to stay with a loser like him just because of sex. There were probably better opportunities for him.On top of that, he started to enjoy it, even though it was wrong. Today it felt especially good. Rhyno's warm skin on his own, his breath on Heath's neck, the way he was filling him up and how he was moving inside of him, the noises he made. Heath pressed his face into the pillow, trying to muffle his moans. Then it happened. He came... on Rhyno's bed. It was the first time since they had started with this kind of compensation for Heath's incompetence in the ring. Usually, he didn't even get hard when the other man was using him. This hadn't been part of their agreement, and he was ashamed of his lack of self-control.He waited until Rhyno was also finished and pulled out of him. While he removed the condom, Heath turned around. "I'm sorry!"Rhyno was confused for a moment before he saw what his partner was talking about. Heath's eyes seemed even bigger than usual. "I'll clean it up! Or you can take my bed-""I'll take yours," Rhyno interrupted him and got up.That was it. No reproach. Rhyno didn't even seem angry. Maybe he was just tired, Heath thought. He went to his bed to get some of his stuff. At that moment, his partner grabbed his wrist. "You can sleep here too."Heath stared at him. Wasn't Rhyno finished with him yet?His friend let go of his hand. "If you want," he added.No, Heath didn't want. But he had to. He had promised he would do anything. So he nodded.After a quick shower, he just put on boxers. He was tired, but if Rhyno wanted another round, he didn't need more clothes."You have to be harder," he said with a trembling voice while he climbed into his bed to join the other man. He didn't want to tell Rhyno. However, he owed him the truth. "I enjoy it..." It was just a whisper.Rhyno was confused. "You enjoy it harder?""No. I mean, you have to be harder because like this... It's not a punishment." Heath's whole body was tensed up. He wasn't sure what to expect, maybe a punch or a slap.His partner stared at him. His heart clenched. "Heath, it was never meant to be a punishment...""What?" Heath didn't understand. "But...""I just want to be together with you.""Why?""You're good, in the ring and in bed.""I'm not.""You are, Heath. I'm sorry if I made you believe the opposite. I was wrong. We can't win matches if you don't have confidence in your skills."Heath didn't know what to say. Was his partner serious? Was he really good?"Do you think it's too late for a new beginning?" Rhyno asked cautiously.Heath blinked. "For what?""A new beginning as equal partners?" Rhyno knew he had made some mistakes, but he wanted to make up for it. When Heath smiled at him, his heart made a little jump. It was not too late. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'll never hurt you again."Then he leaned over, and when Heath didn't back away, he kissed him, almost shyly. Heath wrapped his arms around Rhyno's neck and kissed him back, open-mouthed, hungry, realizing this was what he had wanted the whole time. He climbed on top of the other man, and for the first time he was the one in control, and he liked it and Rhyno let him.
11334243	Hors de Combat Book II	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The X-Files", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Liz OBrien [archived by thebasement_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2002-12-26T00:00:00", "words": "33,665", "Additional Tags": "Drama, Romance, Angst, Relationship(s), Fiction", "Relationship": "Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Basement, The Spooky Awards 2003, Fandom Haven Story 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 }	Hors de Combat, Book II Hors de Combat, Book II by Liz OBrien Disclaimer: In a perfect world they'd be mine, mine, mine. Sadly, the world is not a perfect place, so Carter, the Creatively Careless has dibs. Many nice people from MSKipperville, RATales and AlexK H-C,D, among other readers, sent the kind of feedback that I'm now addicted to. The most frequent response I got was 'Where the hell is the second book?' So here it is with my thanks for all the encouraging words. With thanks To Ursula the Generous of Praise for the incredibly nice welcome to the fanfic world and a terrific beta job. With thanks to Satina, Queen of Panting, for being a conscientious smut-checker and hand-holder. HORS de COMBAT BOOK II They reassembled the lab over the weekend that followed and by the next Sunday, they were ready to start over. Alex found himself bewildered at the capacity Dana Scully had for tolerance and forbearance. He had been certain she would quit, would be unable to move past each new roadblock the past flung between them. Each time, from accepting his offer in the first place to reconciling herself to his relationship with Mulder, she made her peace with him and his baggage and moved ahead. He felt a renewed commitment to their project that extended beyond Mulder for the first time, something that encompassed a feeling for Scully now as well. As they worked together putting the lab to rights and patching the wall he'd put his hands through, he found himself for the first time regarding her without the lingering flavour of jealousy that had always been there, ever since he'd realized what it was he felt for Fox Mulder and had known that Dana Scully was going to own the man forever. Scully was a nice person, he discovered, not just an impediment between he and Mulder and not a part of the toolkit he was using to fix Mulder. He could see the strength in her that Mulder had always prized until it took Will from him and even that, Alex saw now as an expression of courage instead of cowardice. She loved her son, there was no doubting it when he saw them together and he felt, along with the glimmer of friendliness he felt for her, a newfound determination to give Will his father back. It was late in July and Alex still hadn't finished his second ring. He was determined to go much more slowly with this one, stopping whenever he felt his thoughts drift ever so slightly away from their appointed place. He clung to a mental picture of Mulder, alive and eager, playing with Will in the yard and he would drop whatever tool or material he was using if his mind strayed the least bit from that image. He never wore the first ring he'd made. Its entwined engravings had exposed his thoughts of he and Mulder before. His mind had been so wrapped up in his feeling for Mulder while he was doing the detailed, mentally draining work that he knew the power he possessed wasn't focused on making Mulder well, but on what he and Mulder had shared in the past. Scully had teased him gently when he explained what had happened, calling him a moony-eyed teenager and a hopeless romantic. Scully, for her part, was panting with impatience to move ahead again. She found herself speaking sharply with Will for the first time in her life and frequently snapping at Alex as the days went by and his ring wasn't done, hers not even begun. "I'm going to forget everything Anna taught me if you don't get moving," she growled at him late one Friday afternoon. He'd come over directly after his shift at Townsend, hungry and tired but gamely working away until, after the third time he'd set his tools aside to regain his focus, she slammed her palms down next to his on the counter. "Will you knock it off, Scully? Christ, I'm trying to concentrate, I don't want to screw this up again." She threw herself on the couch to watch as he picked up the small drill he was using to etch the design he had settled on. The band was almost a half-inch wide and would have looked clunky without the delicacy of Alex's finely done engraving. He had designed a graceful network of points and lines that mimicked the nervous system he wanted to restore. To Scully the design suggested the vast stars that had entranced Mulder for so long. Alex was planning to overlay the lacy design with idealized Cyrillic characters for 'Mulder' and 'William'. His face was a scant few inches above the ring in its bracket and his full mouth was pursed into a tightly concentrated line as he maneuvered the minute instrument along the semi-soft gold. It was very quiet in the room, the whispery buzz of the drill the only noise besides occasional sighs from Alex after he'd held his breath over a difficult spot. Scully quickly tired of the silence and the inactivity and moved to the stairs, grumbling under her breath. It was after 7:00 when Alex looked up again, almost two hours of detailed, close-up work. His neck and shoulders cracked in a dozen spots as he rolled them to ease the strict tension the meticulous effort required. He was so close to being finished, he was almost tempted to continue, but he could feel the tight grip on his concentration getting weaker as his body fatigued and his brain wandered. He flipped his glasses up to the top of his head and became aware of a strong headache. He put away the tools he'd been using and locked the ring up in the safe before he went upstairs, thinking maybe he'd offer to take Scully and Will out for dinner. The upstairs was silent, however, so he went through the kitchen to look in the yard and saw Scully and Will at the far end of the yard pulling weeds in the vegetable garden. He watched them for a few minutes, the bright heads close together, the intimacy between them almost tangible and couldn't bring himself to interrupt. He went to the phone instead and dialed the number for a nearby Chinese restaurant, placing a large order for the three of them. He sat at the table, then got up suddenly as a craving hit him. He rooted around in the pantry and cupboards for ingredients and fifteen minutes later was sliding a pan full of chocolate into the oven. He called to Scully from the kitchen window. "Hey, you guys hungry?" She looked up from her work. "What time is it? I meant to come in to fix dinner and see how things were going." She came to the back door but paused, sniffing the unfamiliar aroma of melted butter and warm chocolate in her kitchen. "What smells so good?" "I made brownies. They'll be ready to eat by the time we're done. I ordered dinner from Peking Garden, I'm starving." "That's great. I was just going to grill chicken or something, but that sounds better." "Okay, I'm going to pick it up. If the timer goes off before I get back, take the bowl of glaze out of the fridge and drizzle it over the brownies so it can set." "What on earth are you talking about?" "Glaze, it's for the brownies. It's like frosting, you savage." "I'm not a savage. And you're a snob." "You have instant coffee in your freezer, ergo you are a savage," he said as he walked out the door, letting the screen bang shut triumphantly. He was almost to the gate when Will came running from the garden. "Hey, Mr. Hale! Are you going home?" he asked, breathless from his run. "Hey, Squirt. Nope, I'm going to get some dinner for you and your mom and I." "Can I come? Please?" he pleaded with big blue Mulder eyes. Alex smiled down at the small boy and said, "If your mom says so. Go ask her." Will ran to the front door and called, "Mom! Can I go with Mr. Hale for dinner? He says it's okay!" Scully appeared at the screen as Alex walked into the front yard. She questioned him with her eyes and, at his nod, said, "Okay, but wear your seat belt. And no speeding, Alex." He saluted smartly and he and Will climbed into the Saab and drove off. Alex squealed the tires ostentatiously and Will's sturdy, small hand waved out the sunroof. Scully watched them drive away, shaking her head disbelievingly at herself for letting Alex Krycek drive off with her son, the most precious thing in her life, and feeling only a warm pleasure at the smile on Will's face as Alex made their theatrical departure. When they returned with dinner, Maggie Scully's Grand Am was in the driveway and the two women were looking over the blooming flowers in the side garden. Alex made another show of screeching the brakes as they jolted to a stop in front of the house. Will hopped out of the car with a bag of fortune cookies clutched in his hand and ran to his grandmother. "Hi, Grandma! I didn't know you were coming over. We're having Chinese food for dinner, can you stay?" Maggie swept Will up with an effort and kissed his bright red hair. "Hi, gorgeous. I surprised you, huh? I brought some flowers from my garden to see if Mom wanted them for hers." She looked over Will's head to Alex and nodded in greeting. "Hello again, Mr. Hale. How are you?" "Hi, Maggie. Hey, Scully, I'm going to take this inside. I'm starving." He went into the house, but a moment later they heard him yell. "Dana Scully, what did you do to these?" Scully looked anxiously at Maggie and walked quickly into the house as well. When she got to the kitchen, Alex was standing over the pan of brownies, frowning at the well of chocolate glaze that had pooled sadly in one corner. "What? I poured it on them like you said." "I said to drizzle it on, not dump it in one spot." He rummaged in a drawer, pulled out a spatula and began spreading the almost-set hardened glaze around the whole pan. "You take cooking a little too seriously, Alex, you know that?" she said. "It's chocolate, not the Sistine Chapel." Maggie and Will entered the kitchen then and the four of them sat at the table together, piling their plates from the assortment of white cartons. Maggie found herself eyeing Alex carefully. She had met him at the hospital once or twice and had met him again at the house just the week before. She was trying to determine if this was just a working relationship, as Dana asserted. Years of insisting that Mulder was a friend and that they were merely partners had caused Maggie to distrust her tight-lipped, unemotional daughter's ability to be honest with herself. So she watched Alex and her daughter converse, about his day at Townsend and hers working in the yard, about how well Will could shift the Saab and how far Alex had gotten that afternoon on 'the Work'. The easy bantering and harmless chaffing reminded Maggie of nothing so much as the way Dana and Charlie had always been together. They shared a deep sibling affection that showed itself in the gentle teasing and nonstop joking that also went on with Alex Hale. Maggie found herself agreeing with Dana's claim, but also felt a bit disappointed that it seemed Alex was only a friend. He was charming without the oily insincerity that seemed so often to go along with that quality. He was quite intelligent, and very funny. He was also, Maggie admitted slyly to herself, exquisitely attractive, with his striking, Slavic facial structure, his unusually vivid eye color and his still-black hair. She sighed quietly, wondering when or if Dana would find anyone who could give her a fraction of what Fox Mulder had, if Dana would ever let anyone that close ever again. Will and Scully cleared the plates from the table as Alex cut the brownies and Maggie made tea and coffee. Scully sat back down and accepted the brownie Alex offered her, taking a generous bite and slamming her eyes shut as the sinfully rich flavors overwhelmed her. Maggie, seeing her response, quickly bit into hers as well. "God, Alex, what did you put in these brownies?" Scully asked with a full mouth. "What? It's just chocolate, it's not the Sistine Chapel," he answered with a smug grin. "What do you think, Maggie? I'd like an educated opinion, not just Scully's complete ignorance." Maggie shook her head, her mouth full and humming around the chocolate. When she could finally speak, she said, "Alex, whatever they're paying you at Townsend, I'll double it for this recipe. What on earth are these?" Alex smiled at Maggie's genuine pleasure and said, "We called them Apology Brownies. My sister came up with them. She said nobody could stay mad at you if you made these for them." "They're fantastic," Scully said as she helped herself to another and cutting off a piece for Will. "Thanks. I'll write out the recipe for you, Maggie. I'll give it to you, too, if you think you're man enough to make them," he added to Scully. She threw her napkin across the table at him and Will made ready to do the same when Maggie stopped him. "No, William Daniel, it's bad enough your mother is acting like this with a guest in the house. Don't you follow her bad example. Come on, I have something in the car for you. For your garden." The bribe worked and Will jumped up from the table immediately, cramming the last bit of his brownie into his mouth. Alex and Scully stayed at the table, finishing their brownies and coffee. "So how much longer do you think it'll be till the ring is done?" she asked as she bit into the brownie. "I've got about two or three more hours of work to do. And no, I'm not doing anymore tonight. It's too late and I'm too tired." "You're such a wimp," she sniped. "But you make damn good brownies." "Mmm, I know" he said around his own mouthful. "This was Elly's recipe. She made it for some Girl Scout thing. She won first prize with these at the state fair when she was eleven." "Impressive. You Kryshenkovs are a talented bunch, aren't you?" He was silent and she saw what she was starting to call his hurt face, the way his jaw tensed up and the emotion left his expressive eyes. It reminded her of the shutters being slammed down on a window. "Sorry, Alex, I didn't mean to stir up ghosts." "Yeah, well, it doesn't take a lot to stir those particular spooks." The closed expression melted away and he shrugged. "I'm better than I used to be. I can say Elly's name now, instead of pretending she doesn't exist." "When was the last time you saw her? " "2000. She had a couple seizures, so I went back to Ohio for a few days to make sure she was okay." "Was she?" "Yeah, she'd fallen and hit her head harder than the staff realized. She got over it, she's fine, physically. She's just completely screwed up mentally." He got up to pour himself more coffee as he went on. "She looked exactly like my mom last time I saw her. It was creepy. I guess I didn't realize, growing up, how much like her both my sisters looked." He said this just as Will and Maggie came back in from the garden, Will carrying a terra cotta lump that had him tremendously excited. "Look, Mom, Grandma brought me a toad house! I can put it in the garden and toads can live in it and eat slugs and I can study them." "The toads or the slugs?" Scully asked with an indulgent smile. "Look, Mr. Hale. I love toads, they're cooler than frogs. Frogs are slimy. I didn't know you had sisters. Do they work at the hospital, too?" Alex smiled, used to Will's tangents by now and finding it an endearingly quirky reminder of the way the boy's father had talked. Mulder's conversation was often bewildering, but never boring and his son was the same. "No, they don't work at the hospital. One lives far away from here." "What's her name?" "Elly. And my other sister's name was Lizzie." "You have two sisters? That's not fair. I don't get even one." "Sisters aren't everything they're cracked up to be, Will," Alex said with a nostalgic smile. "Yeah, but you can call them names all you want and you wouldn't get in trouble like you do if you call names at school." The adults laughed at his logic and Alex said, "Do you want to know what we called my youngest sister?" "Umm, hmm," Will answered around a mouthful of chocolate. Alex pulled out his wallet and took a picture of three young people from it. He looked at it for a moment, then handed it to Will, who examined it carefully before passing it to his mother. It was a gawky teenaged Alex, wearing a soccer uniform. Perched on his broadening shoulders was a small girl with large, lovely moss-brown eyes and an unruly mop of black curls. She rested her chin coyly on top of Alex's head while the taller girl who looked just like her stood at his side with her arms wrapped around his waist and her face turned to him with an adoring smile. "That's me and that's Elly, next to me and that one, with all those curls, is Lizzie. And we used to call her Frizzy Lizzie." His voice trailed off. While Maggie and Will laughed, Scully smiled over a memory of a beach in San Diego many years ago, Charlie chasing her and pulling her shining red ponytail when he caught her, yelling 'Hey, Carrots! Watch out for rabbits!' Alex took the picture from Will and put it back in his wallet, the shuttered look back on his face. He didn't meet Scully's eyes as he said, "I think I'm going to take off. It's getting late." He rose from the table and left the kitchen and a moment later, they heard the front door open and close. "You guys eat some more dessert. I'll be right back," Scully said as she followed Alex. She caught up with him as he was on the last porch step and gently grabbed his hand to stop him. "Hey, you okay?" she asked, looking down at him. He looked down and shook his head hesitantly. "Not really." "You want to stick around and talk?" He raised his eyes and Scully saw Aleksandr clearly for the first time, who loved his sisters devotedly and missed them both terribly. "Come on, Alex, stay. You look like you could use a friend." "Is that what we are now? Friends?" he asked with a hoarse laugh. "Well, we don't hate each other anymore, do we?"she replied with a light teasing tone, hoping to cheer him out of his dark mood. "Not enough to kill each other, anyway," he agreed, then sighed. "You know, I lived for years without unloading my baggage on anyone and now I'm spilling my guts and bawling like a pussy in front of you every other day. This is going to seriously damage my reputation." "Yeah, I know your real secret, Krycek. You're a sensitive soul, aren't you?" He nodded and gave up the effort he was making not to cry. Scully dropped his hand to gather him against her and, after tensing for a moment, he relaxed and she felt his shoulders and back shaking. "I'm so sorry, Alex," she whispered against his head, "I'm so sorry. For everything." He laughed through his tears and said shakily, "You didn't do anything to me, Scully. Why are you apologizing?" "Because you're hurting and I can't help you." She paused, then said, "Come back inside. I'll have my mom put Will to bed and we'll talk." He shook his head and stepped away from her, saying, "If you don't mind, I'm just going to go. I'm not in the mood for self-reflection tonight." "Okay, but be good. Don't go near the whiskey, all right?" She wiped the last traces of tears from his face and he sniffled once loudly, wiping his nose on the back of his hand and they both laughed at his boyish action. "I'll be over tomorrow to finish, I promise, and then we'll get started on the other ring." He got in the Saab and pulled away quickly, leaving Scully standing on the porch, pondering the concept of Alex Krycek, her newfound friend. By late Sunday evening, Alex's ring was finished. It had taken more than two or three hours; he had spent six altogether on the final engraving and the preparatory polishing before he moved the minute needle into the inside of the band, to break the closed circle and let the power he carried circuit with the gold. Alex and Dana stood still and silent, both leaning forward on the work table, oblivious to everything around them. The whole universe had shrunk to the small circle of gold Alex was preparing to slip on his hand. Dana watched anxiously. She wasn't sure what to expect, but there was a prickle of change in the air. Alex slid the ring onto his fourth finger and stared down at it where it glinted against the darker gold of his skin. He waited for the tingling sensation Anna told him would come, the advent of the energy flow she was so certain was within him. They waited, neither one looking away from the gold, neither one speaking or even breathing, it seemed to Alex. And then he felt it, a slight warm ripple, then a sensation of actual heat, building in intensity but not becoming painful yet, as though the heat was getting heavier instead of hotter. He shook his head to stop Dana from speaking when she would have voiced the question he saw in her face. The warm sensation spread through his finger, quickly encompassing his whole hand, then moving up his arm and into his face. Before he had completely processed the sensation sweeping up his right side, the sharpening burn gripped his entire body. He felt suddenly engulfed, as if hot, wet gauze was being wound more and more tightly around his head and chest. It stifledhis breath without stopping it and distorted the focus of his eyes without obstructing his vision. He could hear his breathing, rapid and ragged, above the odd reverberating purr in his head, but when he tried to speak, he couldn't hear the words he thought he managed to push out. The noise buzzed louder and louder and the burning sensation grew until it became pain. Then the pain grew until he came closer to the night in Tunguska than he had thought he'd ever be punished with again. His vision began to dim and he thought he might be falling, but before he could puzzle out whether or not he was conscious, he wasn't. Dana, meanwhile, saw Alex suddenly flush and wince, but she bit back her words at the shake of his head. A minute passed, then two, then five, and through it all, Scully worried her bottom lip uncertainly as she watched Alex's face grimace and redden. His body became more and more rigid until she thought he might begin convulsing. His mouth moved in frantic silence and then, in a matter of moments, the flush washed out of his face and he slumped against the work table, his skin slick with a thin coat of perspiration. She caught him before he could fall completely and was surprised when he revived as quickly as he'd lost consciousness. He looked as drained and sweaty as if he'd been running for miles and Scully's doctor mind automatically calculated what his heart rate and pulse might be. She scanned his clammy face, his hands tightly clenching the counter, his trembling legs and heaving chest and she thought he looked like he might be sick any moment. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gently led him to the sofa, settling him against the cushions then going to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. He wordlessly accepted the drink from her and drained it in three swallows, then leaned back, resting his head on the back of the sofa and closing his eyes. He lay like that, not speaking or moving and Scully kept track of his breathing, relaxing as she saw it slow and regulate and the normal healthy glow of his skin begin to return. She began to think he was falling asleep when he finally broke the silence that enveloped the room. "Damn," he whispered in a croaky, throaty voice. "That hurt like hell." "Was it supposed to?" she asked worriedly. "Heck if I know." "Did it feel like that before?" He rolled his head to look at her in puzzlement. "What?" "Did it hurt like that before? When you did it in Russia?" He huffed out a tiny laugh and turned back. "What makes you think I've done this before?" "Haven't you?" she asked with a squeak, her agitation forcing her voice higher than normal at Alex's unwelcome words. "Jesus, Alex, haven't you?" "How was I supposed to do this before?" he asked, weariness making his voice slur and fade. She stopped cold, realizing the truth of what he was saying. She had learned enough from Anna to know that the coincidence of feeling, need and gift was extraordinarily rare. And she knew Alex well enough to know that the only person, besides Mulder and Anna, that he had any deep feeling for was... "What about Elena? Couldn't you have healed her?" His eyes shut slowly as he answered in a weary mutter. "No, I couldn't heal Elena. Doesn't work that way. Wish it did." "I'm sorry, Alex, I didn't mean to bring it up again." He didn't say anything, so she asked the question she hadn't before. "What did it feel like?" "Really, really hurt. And very tiring." "I get the hint." She got up and headed for the stairs, saying, "I'll get you a blanket and pillow and you can crash down here." "Thanks," he grunted as he fell into the spot she had vacated. The last thing he knew was a cool pillow slipping beneath his aching head and a shaggy wool blanket being tucked around his shoulders. He woke up just after 3:00 a.m. with an ashy taste on his tongue and a full bladder. He crept up the stairs and down the hall as quietly as his stiff and achy body would let him, hoping he wouldn't wake Scully or Will. He was standing at the toilet, peeing pensively, when he heard an urgent whine behind him and saw Will standing at the door in obvious need. He finished as quickly as he could and tucked himself back into his jeans as he stepped aside. "Go ahead, Bud," he whispered, hoping he'd get away with only waking Will. But before the boy had finished, Alex saw the light in the hall come on and Scully appeared at the door in her robe, sleepily peering in until she realized he was there. "Oh, geez, sorry, Alex. I thought it was Will," she stammered, coming fully awake. "It's okay, I'm done," he said with a twist of embarrassment on his face. "So am I," piped in Will as he flushed and went to the sink to wash his hands. He left the tap running and looked at Alex pointedly. Alex moved to the sink and washed as well and thanked Will with mock gravity when the boy handed him a towel. "Sorry, Scully, I tried not to wake up the whole house." "I was already awake, Mom, 'cause I had to pee, too. You should see how much Mr. Hale made." Alex's hand was over Will's mouth before he could make any more candid comments and Scully smothered the laughter that welled up. "Come on, Will, let's get you back in bed. It's late." She took her son's hand and led him down the hall before letting her amusement slip out. Alex went back to the basement and was tying his shoes when he heard her feet on the stairs. "Hey, you taking off?" she asked with a tiny yawn, sitting down on the bottom step. "Yeah, I've got to work tomorrow. Or today, in about three hours." "That's ridiculous," she asserted. "It'll almost be time for you to get up by the time you get back to Bethesda. Just go back to sleep. I'll wake you up at six and kick you out." "You sure?" "Yes, I'm sure. I'll be pissed if you leave before I get to make fun of you at breakfast." "You really are a bitch sometimes, aren't you?" he said good-naturedly. "You bring it out in me, what can I say?" she joked back. He lay back down on the sofa and shoved his shoes off, fully expecting Scully to head back upstairs, but she stayed where she was, watching him with an inquisitive look. "What do you want, Scully?" he asked patiently. "How are you feeling?" "Tired and achy. Like I've been digging ditches all day." He yawned pointedly, but she didn't take his hint this time, so he tried being blunt. "Are you going to go back to bed anytime soon?" "Maybe. I'm wide awake right now." "I'm not." "Sorry. Go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning." She got up, then impulsively stepped over to the couch where he was settling the blanket back over his legs. She knelt by the couch and threw her arms around him as tightly as she could manage in the awkward position and said in a breathless whisper, "This is really going to work, isn't? He's going to come back, right?" Her quick embrace discomfited Alex, but he recovered enough to squeeze her tiny frame briefly and say, "Yeah, I think he will." She let go and ran up the stairs and Alex lay back down, trying not to care that she was the one who was getting Mulder back . They started on Scully's ring the next day. A new semester at Johns Hopkins was starting in four weeks and she was anxious to have the rings finished and on Mulder's hand before she had to return to the university full-time. Alex tried to remain patient with her frantic need to hurry the work along, but she fought his efforts to correct her focus again and again. On a late Friday night, he reached his limit and lost his temper, hollering at her that she was putting his work at risk and that she had to concentrate. "I am concentrating," she retorted just as loudly when he pulled her hand away from the rough, dark gold she was beginning to form. "You're not thinking about Mulder right now, are you?" he asked severely. "You're thinking about getting done and finishing before the semester starts. You're supposed to be concentrating on Mulder only. You know that, Scully. Don't screw this up." "I'm not going to screw it up, Alex. If you would stop interrupting me, my focus would be better." "If I don't interrupt you, that ring is going to be a worthless piece of shit. Now keep your hand off it until you're back on track." She stomped away from the workbench, pacing around the room fretfully as Alex, after considering her for a moment, began putting away the materials and tools she'd been using under his supervision. "What are you doing? I'm not done yet, I just need a break," she snapped when she saw him pick up the bracket that still held the unformed gold and put both in the safe. "You're done for tonight. It's late and your focus is shot. Come on, it's almost midnight. Let's pack it in." "No, I want to take off the worst of the spurs." "Uh, uh, Scully, no more tonight." She glared at his impassive face. "Fine, have it your way," she growled as she flopped onto the sofa. "What time will you be over tomorrow so we can get back to work? Or are you going to crash here?" "Is that an invitation?" he asked. "Since when do you wait to be invited? Will practically thinks you live here," she said in a snippy tone. "Does he really?" he asked in surprise. "Am I here as much as that?" "You have been lately. It's fine, Alex," she answered the unspoken question that crossed his face. "You need to be here and Will likes you, so it's fine." "Good. It won't be much longer anyway, unless you keep acting like a cat on hot bricks while you're touching the gold and we have to start over." "Acting like a what?" "A cat on hot bricks. It's a saying. It means you're irritable and jumpy, like your little cat paws can't stand to touch the ground." "It's a stupid saying." "Gee, pardon me. What's your problem tonight, anyway? You're crankier than usual and you're restless as hell." "I just want to get finished." "I just want to bring him back." "I do, too, Alex, probably more than you do," she said with a sting. "Okay, we both want the same thing, so be a good girl and stop fighting me," he answered. She got up from the sofa with a pout and began racking up the pool balls, moving into their end of the evening ritual game. She cleared the table quickly and Alex was impressed again with her skill. Tonight, though, he felt an edge to the way she was hitting the cue ball, a sliver of bad temper and impatience in every move she made.He wondered if the slow pace he was holding her to was bothering her that much. He watched her as she pulled the balls back into the triangle of the rack and readied herself to break, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she rolled the cue into position. She missed her second shot and Alex took his first, still watching her closely. She was jostling her foot and her leg, tapping her fingers on the cue she fidgeted with and it occurred to him that she'd been picking through a bowl of Hershey kisses all night. An explanation for her edgy attitude flitted through his mind and he felt an odd mixture of mischief and sympathy at what he thought might be the problem. "Hey, Scully, can I ask you a personal question?" he inquired just as she released her shot. It went off balance and she glared at him as she dumped her cue into its holder, then stomped to the couch and sat down grumpily. "God, Alex you are bugging the shit out of me tonight." At his patient gaze, she sighed and said, "What do you want to ask me? How personal?" "Really, really personal." That earned him an eyebrow lift as she asked, "Personal like how much money do I make or personal like you have a hemorrhoid you want me to look at?" He collapsed on the couch in helpless laughter and, when he finished wiping the tears from his eyes, said, "Never mind the question. Let's play a game instead, a doctor game." "I am not playing doctor with you, Alex, friends or not." He laughed again and said, "Don't be stupid. I'm just going to list some symptoms for you and you tell me what you think they mean." "This sounds stupid." "No, it'll be interesting. And entertaining, I think." "Says you. Okay, let's hear it." "All right, first symptom..." "Wait, first you have to tell me who the patient is." "Okay, it's a female, early forties..." "Menopause. Game's over." "Ha, Ha. That's far off the mark, smart ass. Can I continue?" "Fine," she said humourlessly. "Okay, first symptom, this woman in her early forties is extremely irritable." "Gee, who could that be? Knock it off, Alex, I already told you, nothing's wrong." "I disagree. Second symptom, patient is physically on edge, lots of fidgeting, constant jittery motion, etc." "Hmmm, she sounds impatient, like maybe she's got some important work to do and her co-patient is getting in her way." "No, I don't think that's it. Try again. Third symptom, the patient is craving sweets and has been snarking down chocolate like it was laced with heroin all evening." He paused waiting for a comment from her, but she didn't say anything. "Anything clicking here, Doc?" "Not really. Maybe the patient is simply anxious to finish a project that means a lot to her and she's tired of her co-patient impeding her progress. Maybe she's got a lot on her mind right now, she's nervous about this working out and she's apprehensive about the results and..." "And maybe she's really, really horny," he blurted out, then bit his lip to keep from laughing at her stunned face. "Sorry, Scully, that didn't come out quite how I'd planned it." "Really, Alex? How exactly did you plan to say that to me?" she asked in an icy voice. "Well, I had planned to be a little more subtle. More like, 'When was the last time you got yourself off'"? The stunned look came back for a moment before it was swallowed up by a vivid flush and an angry scowl. "You have no business asking questions like that, Krycek." "Maybe not. As long as it doesn't interfere with your work." "As long as what doesn't interfere?" "Your...biology." He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Don't hit me, but you're acting, quite literally, like a bitch in heat. All the fidgeting, trying to rub your legs together, the chocolate cravings...your body's trying to tell you something, Scully. And it's talking loud enough to skew your concentration tonight. Where are you in your cycle?" "I am not having this conversation with you, Alex." "You're just about to ovulate, right?" "What?! Alex! I am not... . Jesus, what are you, some kind of perverted closet gynecologist? How do you know about the leg rubbing and the chocolate?" "I'm a genius, remember? 148 IQ?" He waited for a laugh, but it never came, so he said, "Okay, when I was eleven I found a Cosmopolitan magazine in my mom's room and it opened up a whole new world for me. There was this amazing article, with pictures, on the female sex drive and how a woman's cycle affected it. And the time just as you ovulate is when the drive is at its highest. I always remembered reading that. I thought it was an elegant way for Nature to ensure the continuation of the species, by making women really, really horny just when they were most likely to get pregnant." Scully's eyes began to glaze over by the time he finished speaking. She wasn't sure if she was still embarrassed about his intrusion into part of her most private life or if she was simply amazed at the bizarre collection of things Alex seemed to know about. She finally cleared her head with a shake and said, "Even if your diagnosis is correct, Dr. Krycek, I'm not going to discuss either the condition or the cure with you." "Well, I would have thought the cure would be obvious," he said with a smirk and a lewd hand gesture. "You're crossing a line here, Krycek." "I'm merely suggesting that you should take care of your problem however you choose, instead of pacing and bitching. Better for you, better for me, better for the work." "I do not have a problem," she practically shouted. "Scully..." he began. "So help me, Alex Krycek, if I hear the word PMS out of that mouth of yours, I'll slap you into next week." "It's not PMS, it's more like P-PMS. And you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but it's obviously upsetting and distracting you and you need to do something about it before it starts holding up the work." "Easy for you to say. You're a guy, you can jerk off like you sneeze." He choked at her words as she went on. "Seriously, how long does it take you, two minutes, five if you drag it out?" He spluttered more at her use of 'you'. "Women are more complex than men. We require a lot more in the way of stimulation..." She blew her hair out of her face in vexation. "Oh, forget it, I'm not talking about this anymore." "But it's fascinating." He sat closer to her and put his head down on her shoulder. "Come on, if I was a girlfriend, you'd tell me, right?" She looked at him, at the good-humoured sympathy in his eyes and gave a resigned shrug. "Maybe. It depends on whether or not you're better looking than me." "Ah, the eternal mysteries of the female mind," he said, sitting back up with a comic sigh. "Fine, I'm ugly and not getting any. Will you talk about it now?" She gave her own theatrical sigh and said, "Get my chocolate, Alex. We're going to need it if we're going to have girl-talk." He hopped up swiftly and grabbed the bowl of kisses. "Excellent," he said with relish. "I haven't had girl-talk in ages." "You are very weird sometimes, you know that?" "Umm, hmm. Part of my charm," he answered around the chocolate he tossed into his mouth. "Okay, go ahead. I'm all ears." "Hey, you wanted to talk, not me." "I just want to help you out, Scully." She laughed heartily, then said, "No offense, Alex, but when you say help me out, you're not exactly my type." "I know," he said in a more serious tone. "But your type isn't doing you a whole lot of good right now, is he?" The words didn't sound kind, but Scully could hear the depth of sympathy in his gentle voice. "Not much, no. You know," she said as she meditatively peeled a chocolate, "sometimes I almost wish we'd never gotten around to the physical part of our relationship. When I didn't know what I was missing, going without wasn't a big deal. And I could 'cure' the bitch-in-heat syndrome pretty easily on my own." "Oooh, do tell," he squeaked in an overblown falsetto, and she laughed again. "Never mind. I'm just saying, I went so long without actual sex before Mulder came into the picture and I was fine." "You have got to stop saying 'came' and 'come' during these discussions, Scully," he said with his own laugh. She joined him, but ended on a sigh. "I just don't seem to get anywhere 'curing' myself these day." "Have you tried?" he asked hesitantly. "And remember, I'm an ugly girl so I can ask that." "Yes, I've tried, Alexandra..." "Ouch, not nice, Dana." He moved away a bit, unconsciously putting some distance between them as their conversation became more intimate. "Have you tried ...alternatives? I mean, there are lots of options out there, especially for us girls. I've seen the catalogues." "I'll bet you have. Yes, I've tried a few alternatives, but I think it's mental. I can't think of anything besides Mulder and when I think of him, I don't get too terribly aroused anymore. My brain always circles back around to him at Townsend and the next thing I know I'm sitting there with my hand between my legs wondering if they remembered to put extra socks on him if it's cold." She stopped talking abruptly as she realized the words that were coming out of her mouth. "It's okay, Scully," Alex reassured her. "You need to dump all of it sometimes, you know? Keep it from festering." "Yeah, but on you? Of all people?" "Who else is going to understand? Your mom? Skinner? Those three wise men buddies of Mulder's? You and I know what he was like. The man was unadulterated Id in the sack, it's hard to make do with anything less." "You really shouldn't say 'hard' in this context, Alex." "Too late. Anyway, we're friends now, right? If you want to vent, be my guest." "I don't want to vent, I want to either stop thinking about sex with him or think about sex with him and get something out of it." "Yeah, well, good luck not thinking about sex and Mulder in the same brain wave." "Are you still hung up on him, Alex?" she asked seriously after a brief pause, but he met her eyes squarely and with a slight smile. "You even have to ask? Of course I'm hung up on him. I'm also fully aware of my limitations where he's concerned." "So, if and when he comes out of this, you're just going to pack your bags and be on your merry way? No lingering around, trying to get in my boyfriend's pants?" "Well, if I thought there was a chance in hell he'd let me near his pants, I might be tempted." He stood up, walked over to the refrigerator and dug out two beers, setting one in front of her and popping the top off his own. "Beer and chocolate, breakfast of champions. Cheers, Scully," he said, then took a swallow of beer and leaned back on the sofa comfortably. "No, you won't need to worry about me lingering. I'm going to be invisible once he sees you, I know that and you know that and thank you for not being smug about it." "Alex, you don't have to pretend you didn't mean anything to him for my benefit. If it makes you feel better, knock yourself out, but you and I both know Mulder would never have stuck around all that time if he didn't feel anything for you." "I never said he didn't feel anything. But whatever it was pretty well vanished in the wind when he went back to you. I was a fling, Scully." He shrugged, trying to keep the conversation casual, but Scully saw the look that closed down his face and could almost hear the door he slammed on the memories threatening his composure. "Anyway, whatever it was or wasn't is beside the point." "Maybe," Scully said with a speculative, sideways glance. She looked at Alex as if measuring something, then said, "Can I ask you something personal now?" "Sure," he replied around the lip of his bottle. She started to speak several times, but kept trailing off and Alex watched in patient amusement as she stammered in discomfort. "What is it, Scully?" "I'm not even sure what to ask you, how to say it..." "Just spit it out. I'm not the easily offended type, you know that," he said with an encouraging smirk. She looked up resolutely, but with a contradictory blush across her cheeks. "I keep finding myself wondering about you and Mulder. About how things were between you two. If they were different from what he and I had..." she trailed off again uncertainly. He looked confused as he said, "How we were...you mean, like living together? He wasn't as big a slob as I thought he'd be. Is that what you're asking?" "No," she said as another wave of embarrassed heat reddened her face. "Not just living together. I mean, that, too, but..." "Scully, whatever it is, don't worry about it. Just ask." She took a determined breath, then rushed out, "I just...I want to know what sleeping with him was like for you. I'm obsessively curious about the two of you..." His puzzled look changed to one of astonishment. "You want to know about our sex life? Mine and Mulder's?" She laughed self-consciously. "I can't explain it. Ever since you told me about the two of you, I've been consumed with this morbid desire to know all the gory details. To know if he was the same with you as he was with me." Alex looked at her with an air of appraisal before responding, as if he were judging how far they could push the friendship they had scraped together. "Would you be surprised to learn that that sort of curiosity goes both ways, Dana?" She met his eyes and saw the unspoken question there. "Tit for tat, Alex?" He smiled gently and shrugged. "You've been wondering since May. I've been wondering for five years." He got up and went to pull two more bottles from the refrigerator, then resumed his seat and handed one to her. "So, ask away." She twisted off the bottle cap and took a swallow while she tried to sort out her words. "I'm not sure what I'm looking for, really. I know I asked you before if...if he was good, but it's more than that. I mean, he was good for me, too, but ..." She shook her head as if to settle her thoughts into coherence. "It's so confusing, Alex. Sometimes it still hurts to think of him being happy with you while I was breaking my heart over him and Will. But sometimes it's such a turn-on, the pictures in my head and wondering if he...God, just if he made the same noises or got off faster or slower or got harder for you than he did for me." She gave another shake of her red head and took a long swallow of beer while he regarded her silently. "Does any of that make sense to you?" she asked finally. "I guess so. You want to know if he was the same person in my bed as he was in yours." She nodded and he went on. "He was the same, you know, it's you and I who are different. There are bound to be differences in how we were with him." He drained the rest of his beer and set the bottle on the table in front of them. "If we're going to have this discussion, I'd appreciate being able to smoke. Can we go outside?" "Sure," she agreed and, after grabbing two more beers from the fridge, followed him up the stairs and out to the yard. Alex lay back in one of Scully's Adirondacks and she sat rocking gently in the glider. They were quiet for a while, the clear summer night smooth and placid around them. Alex marveled, not for the first time, at how easy he felt with Scully now, his heavy longing for Mulder eased by the realization that she not only acknowledged it, but shared hers with him as well. Anna had known about Mulder, had listened patiently through the one long unburdening he'd allowed himself. But the bone-deep comprehension of what loving the man had been like could only come from Scully and Alex found himself frequently surprised at the thought that he was thankful that she was part of his new life. "So," he said, breaking the stillness and watching his smoke drift through the darkness. "So," she replied softly. "Anything in particular you want to know about? And, before we get into it, are there any ground rules I need to know about?" "Just don't ask me any questions you aren't willing to answer yourself." He smirked widely at that. "Dana, do you really think there's any chance I'll reach my limit before you reach yours?" She laughed a bit and said, "Probably not. So are we taking turns?" "We could. I'll be a gentleman and let you go first." "Okay." She paused thoughtfully, then asked, "Did he prefer topping or bottoming with you?" Whatever Alex had expected, it hadn't been such easy use of the jargon of gay sex. His eyebrows flew up and his mouth dropped open for a moment before he gathered himself together and let loose a hearty laugh. "Well, someone's been doing her homework. Internet, I suppose?" She gave him her most elusive smile, but didn't answer. He shook his head before taking the time to compose his answer. "Mulder didn't really have a preference. Most guys don't, in my experience. He bottomed the first couple weeks we were together, but I thought it had more to do with being a little weirded out by the whole situation than any real preference for 'catching', if you'd like to broaden your vocabulary." "Catching, huh? That's nice and clear," she said around a laugh. "But Mulder pitched, too, sometimes, right?" "Yeah," he said, suddenly looking down with a secretive, bashful smile. "Oh, Alex, whatever are you thinking of to put that dreamy look on your face?" she asked playfully, masking her amazement at a blushing Alex Krycek. "Nice try, but it's mine turn to ask you a question." "Alex, please, please tell me what you were thinking of just now." "Dana, you're begging. It's oddly appealing somehow." "Just tell me, okay?" "All right, but then you have to start dishing some stuff. I'm doing all the work here." "Fine, just spill it." He laughed at her eager curiosity. "Okay, but if it gets too graphic for you, I'll stop." The gentle smile came back to Alex's face and he started his story. "Okay, so, once upon a time, there was this guy who we'll call Mulder, although in my head he's still always Lisa. And Mulder had a friend named Alex who really, really enjoyed screwing him. And while Alex thought Mulder probably enjoyed the screwing, too, Mulder never seemed to start any of it." Scully began looking disapprovingly at Alex, but he waved her off. "Not that I forced him or coerced him. He was an active and eager participant in all of it, he just didn't initiate anything. Until..." he stopped abruptly and waited for Scully to respond. She glared at him and said, "Until what, Alex? And stop teasing." He grinned in satisfaction before continuing. "Well, you know how sensitive Mulder's chest and his nipples were, right?" At Scully's agreeing nod, Alex went on. "Anybody who spent more than two minutes in the sack with him knew that. But did you know, Miss Scully, that your Mulder had one of his nipples pierced while he and I were together?" He let a smug smile cross his face at the look of surprise that swept Scully's. "He did not," she said with vehement disbelief. "Honest Injun, check him for the scar. A twinkly little silver ring, right through it. God, it was beautiful." "What on earth possessed him to do that? He didn't even have a pierced ear. Or was it your idea?" Alex shook his head defensively, trying not to mind her suspicious tone. "Not mine, Dana. All his. The only thing I had to do with it was that he found a piercing I had to be highly... captivating." He twitched his brows at her and grinned wickedly when her eyes flicked briefly to his chest. "...and mine isn't a nipple ring, so you can stop looking." He laughed at her embarrassed grimace. "So, Mulder just came home with a piercing of his own one day and I was so surprised, because, like I said, he hadn't been very forward in our doings. The ring, that was the closest he came to asking for something from me. Sexually, at any rate." He stopped to light a cigarette and to judge how Scully was taking his story. Her eyes were getting a little glassy, whether from the beer she'd brought up with her or the effect on her libido from their conversation. He smiled, thinking she'd probably be able to solve her problem tonight one way or another. "Anyway, Mulder had to move the ring a little, to keep the hole from closing, but it needed to heal for a bit before we could play with it and I could tell it was driving him crazy. He was more...fervent...in our activities then he'd ever been, and then, about a week after he'd had the piercing done, he walked into our bedroom after a shower. He only had jeans on and he stood behind me-I was working at the computer in our room-and he bent down and whispered in my ear, in that fuck-me-now, gravelly voice of his, that he was 'all better.' I turned around to ask him what the hell he was talking about and the ring was right there, in my face. I looked at him and he nodded at me with a coy little smile and I gave it a little tug. That got a nice growl out of him, so I pulled on it again a little harder and then again with my teeth. And I swear to you, Dana, he went berserk. Pulled me out of my chair and threw me across our bed, moved my shorts out of the way and shoved himself in." He shifted in his chair, looking at her with a bit of chagrin as he realigned his swollen prick as unobtrusively as possible. She gave him an indulgent smile and said, "No prep work, huh? That sounds pretty Neanderthal for Mulder." "It was. Completely. It was also ... God, I don't even have words for it. The fact that he took me and that we were face to face, for the first time. And it was his move, from start to finish. I knew then, that he wanted me, wanted whatever it was that was happening between us. I didn't care that he went in dry, as long as I could see his face and his eyes and watch him lose that cool of his. I didn't care about anything except that he was letting go of everything we were up to our necks in, that it was just him and me ...," his voice trailed off as he debated whether to tell Scully about how Mulder had jerked Alex's head back and bitten and sucked at him until he was purpled from shoulder to shoulder, and wondered if she would want to hear the profane things Mulder had growled in his ear-'Take me, bastard' and 'Such a sweet fucking ass'- until Alex thought his brain was going to shoot out along with every drop of blood, sweat and semen in his body. He realized Dana was waiting for him with an impatient, inquisitive, 'well?' in her eyes and he laughed self-consciously. "Sorry," he said. "Got a little sidetracked." "I guess so. It makes me wonder what dirty parts you're leaving out." He jerked his eyebrow a couple times, then said, "What else do you want to know?" "I'm trying to compare ...I guess Lisa to Mulder. He was always so gentle and careful with me, even if I didn't always want him to be..." Alex chuckled softly. "You do surprise me sometimes, Scully." She stuck her tongue out childishly, then said, "Did he lose that cool often, with you? Because he and I...I don't know, I always felt like he was holding back, trying not to...well, never mind." "No way, no never-minding." She blew out a self-conscious breath and looked away as she said, "People make assumptions, Mulder included, that if a woman has a petite figure, her...well, she's petite everywhere. You following me?" Alex frowned for a moment until he grasped her meaning. "Ah. So Mulder tried not to...dig too deep?" "I cannot believe I am having this conversation with you," she muttered as she lit another cigarette and dragged on it impatiently. "Yes, that puts it nicely. Mulder was well-endowed-like I need to tell you that-and he worried about hurting me, about being too hard on...shut up, Alex! God, you are such a pig!" This as Alex knocked over the table between their chairs, rolling back and forth in riotous laughter. He leaned over to pick up the ashtray and beer bottles that were scattered on the deck, wiping tears from his face and still shaking with laughter. "Jesus, Scully," he gasped as he handed her the ashtray. "Do you even think before you say stuff like that?" "Maybe you just have a really dirty mind, you ever think of that?" she asked petulantly. "Sorry, Kiddo, you just say these things and it kills me. Sorry. Go ahead, finish what you were saying." Alex reached over to pat her head condescendingly, earning another glare and a flipped finger. "I was trying to ask you if he went berserk on you often. The only time he ever really lost it with me was the first time I ... well, I made the acquaintance of his prostate gland." She looked shyly at Alex and was gratified to see a slightly stupefied look on his face. "Wait a minute," he said. "Was this before or after he and I...?" "After. About a year after he came back. Why do you look so surprised? Did you think I didn't have it in me?" "No, I just didn't think you'd have it in Mulder," he said with a snide little giggle. "Alex, that's sick." "Maybe a little. Come on, tell me the story." "What, the prostate gland story? What's to tell?" "'What's to tell,' she says. Where, how, the whole sordid thing. Come on, your turn." "Fine, but I don't shoot out...shut up!...words like 'nipple' and 'come' the way you do." "Not on purpose, anyway." "Whatever." She took a deep breath, then started talking. "All right. I had a seminar to go to in Boston and Mulder and Will went down to the Vineyard and I was going to meet them there when I was done. I had dinner with an old friend from med school before I took the shuttle to the island and over dinner, she and I had an enlightening conversation about men in general and the prostate gland-she'd gone into urology-in particular." "That's nice dinner conversation. Although it's probably better than any shop talk you had to offer." "Anyway, I was thinking about it on the flight down and I decided I'd try out some of the things she'd talked about. So, when I got to the house, Will was already asleep and Mulder and I were playing around and I...I was going down on him and I just kind of ... went exploring. And I hit it on my first try and for a second I thought I'd really hurt him or something. He just kind of screamed..." "No fucking wonder," Alex said hoarsely. "But he...well, he went big-time berserk on me. He grabbed my hair and started ramming himself...you know, all the way into my...my throat and he took about three strokes, making this unearthly noise the whole time and when he..." she trailed off with a deep blush, still finding it awkward to say the graphic words to Alex. "...when he came, Dana," he supplied with a smirk. "Fine, when he came, Alex, he said such nasty...but it wasn't nasty, I mean the words weren't nice but, God, they melted me." "What did he say?" "Oh, God, you're trying to embarrass me to death, aren't you?" "No, I just heard stuff like that out of him once in a while and ...and melted is a great way to describe what it did to me, too." She looked speculatively at him and shrugged in decision. "I'll tell you if you tell me." He didn't answer right away and she was surprised to see the dreamy, reminiscing smile on his face again. "What did I say that's got you looking like that again?" she asked softly. "I was just remembering a game he and I used to play. Something like what you just said. Never mind. Tell me the dirty names he called you." She felt her face burning as she said, "Well, 'fucking bitch' was the one that really threw me." Alex laughed merrily, then said, "He gets zero points for creativity, then, because he called me that once or twice as well." "And did it make you crazy, hearing something like that?" "Hell, yeah. Especially from him, because he was, like you said, very controlled. I mean, he made noise, but for him to lose it, to start cursing like a drunken sailor, God, it did stuff to me that nobody's ever..." He shook his head and looked away from her. "Nobody ever did anything to me the way he did." She watched him drift into memories, then said as business-like as she could manage, "So, we haven't really answered any questions, have we? What did you want to ask me?" He looked back at her with a wry grin. "Scully, if we keep swapping stories like this, I'm going to commit an act of public indecency in your driveway." He stood up and subtly arranged his jeans around his erection. "I'm going to take off and leave you to solve your problem." She stood up as well and they headed to the house. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?" "Absolutely." He picked up her hand and planted a very cosmopolitan kiss on the back of it. "Thank you for an enchanting evening, Miss Scully." He looked up with his sly grin on his face and glittering wickedly in his bright eyes and they shared a healthy laugh as she went in the house and he headed down the driveway to his car. Alex found himself feeling unfamiliar pangs of uncertainty when he came near the house the next day. He wondered if last night was a mistake, if he had breached the fragile line of friendship they'd penciled between them. He didn't know what to call the gripping curiosity that possessed him regarding Scully and Mulder's sex life. It was always there, when he and Mulder were together, after Mulder went back to her, up until last night. He had asked Mulder, more than once, to tell him about Dana, to satisfy the hunger that haunted Alex, to know what it was Dana Scully did or was or had that had so enthralled Mulder. Now he had a picture to chew on, the image of Scully on her knees before Mulder, bringing him off the same way Alex had more than once. That image had invaded his mind the night before as he stroked himself off, parked behind an Arbor Drugs, a shuddering groan slipping out of his mouth. He hadn't come so hard in months, maybe years, either by his own hand or in the bodies of the faceless that he used to ease his Lisa-ache. He parked at the intersection a block away from Scully's, uncertain if he could stand to face her yet. He had never doubted that, if not for Scully, Mulder would have given Alex the empty place in his heart. But she was there, cemented, grafted, welded, into every cell of his body and every wisp of his soul. Alex had to remind himself, for maybe the millionth time in five years, that he had captured Mulder's attention and affection, if not his love, for as long as he had any right to expect. He didn't lie to Scully, he would go if and when Mulder got better. He would go to Anna and to the farm and become one of the village men who lived their lives around sowing and harvest and fecund and barren.He would buy his grand piano and maybe a new cello as well. And he would miss Mulder every day for the rest of his life. A life sentence in prison would have been better than this. He pulled into the driveway and scraped up a bit of a smile for Will's hearty welcome. He let the boy grab his hand and pull him into the backyard, full of youthful eagerness to show Alex the soccer net Scully bought at the garage sale outing she'd been on that morning with Maggie. Will had developed a passion for soccer lately that replaced his earlier devotion to dinosaurs and he found a kindred spirit in Alex. Alex knew a lot about soccer, about how it was played in Europe and South America and how that was different from the American style that Will was learning. Scully was in the basement and she called up a greeting when Alex stuck his head through the door to announce his arrival. "You need me for anything right now? Will wants to show me something," he called back to her. "Go ahead. I'll give you a shout if I get stuck. I'm just pulling everything out right now." No comment about their conversation last night, about whether or not his prying and obsessing had helped her at all. He shook his head and stepped back out to the yard, finding Will standing there, holding a prized soccer ball and wearing a dog-like look of hopeful expectation. Alex smiled a bit more genuinely this time and watched Will dribble the ball toward the waiting net. When Scully came out to the yard, she found Alex and Will hard at it, both with a ball now. Alex was trying to help Will coordinate his seven year old body into bouncing the ball from his foot to his thigh, the way Alex was doing repeatedly, sometimes bringing it off his forehead as well. She watched without letting them know she was there, reveling in the sight of her boy's sturdy body and eager, bright face, glad that there were men in his life who could daddy him enough to smooth over Mulder's absence sometimes. She spectated silently until Will's first success, the ball making a lucky hop from his ankle to his knee and back down before rolling off haphazardly to the side. She clapped and laughed as Alex tossed Will into the air, the flush of pride on her son's face reflected moderately in Alex's as well. They knew she was there and Will raced to her. "Did you see me? I didn't miss, I hit it just like Mr. Hale said!" "I saw you, Sport! That was great! You're getting better and better every day," she said enthusiastically. Alex's smile widened as he rubbed Will's sweaty red hair with his knuckles, male bonding over a good noogie. "You're gonna be a killer with moves like that, Squirt. Good job." Alex was sweaty, too, and Scully realized that it was unbearably hot outside. She ordered them to come inside for a drink and something to eat and soon they were sitting in the air-conditioned kitchen, sipping water and iced tea and eating potato chips. Will regaled Alex with the story of the garage sales they had been to that day. After a third glass of water, he begged to play soccer with Alex again. "Maybe later, Squirt. Your mom and I need to work." "It's okay, Alex, you go play. I'm fine." She gave him the arched eyebrow and an elusive, Mona-Lisa smile that told him everything he needed to know about what she did after he left and how she was feeling today. He raised his own brow in gentle mockery and, behind Will's head as the boy headed outside, very slightly made the lewd hand gesture again. She blushed, but winked at him with a bigger smile, then got up from the table and headed for the basement stairs. "I'll let you know if I need anything, but I think I'll be okay now." "Good. Glad to have been of assistance," he smirked. When she was gone from his sight, he blew out a loud breath. Yeah, he thought grumpily, glad to make your sex life even better. He stepped into the yard and immediately got hit in the stomach with a soccer ball. Scully finished the work she set out to do by mid-afternoon. She cleaned up the work area, leaving the roughly shaped ring out for Alex to check over, then went upstairs and into the yard. Alex and Will were still playing, Will dribbling and shooting while Alex defended the second-hand net she'd bought that morning. Alex was making occasional bloopers that were obvious to her and letting in every second or third goal. Nothing too blatant, not letting Will win too easily, but still... "Hey, Hot Shot. You're wearing Mr. Hale out. Come on back in for some more water and then I need to work with him for a bit." "Two more shots, Mom, please? I'm getting really good." "Yeah, two more, Mom, please?" begged Alex in an irritating whine. "No whining allowed, Alex. You know the rules." But she let Will take the shots, trying not to laugh as Alex, hands outstretched and with a fiercely determined snarl on his face, feigned astonishment as one of Will's shots trickled past him. "Okay, two shots, time to come in. It's hotter than the Sahara out here," she added as they trooped into the cool house. She tossed Alex a roll of paper towel to wipe his face with and the two sweat-soaked soccer players flopped into kitchen chairs and began guzzling glasses of water. When Alex had finished his, he set the glass down and got up, heading for the stairs. "How far did you get, anyway?" "I pulled the rough form off the mold. I want you to check it for cracks before I start polishing." "You got that far without me? I'm impressed," he joked. "Yeah, well, I muddled through somehow." Alex looked at the ring carefully without touching it, putting on his glasses and peering at it under a magnifying glass, not finding any of the minute flaws that would splinter and split the ring the instant the polishing and engraving tools touched the metal. "Pretty good, Scully. I really am impressed. There's nothing I can see. Did you measure the dimensions yet?" She nodded and he said, "Okay, pick it up and roll it like this-" he pulled his own ring off and gently pressed it between his thumb and index finger. She copied his movements as he continued his instructions. "Increase the pressure gradually until you're putting full weight on it. See if you feel any give or movement at all and then check the circumference and diameter again." He watched as she performed the dainty measurements and smiled with her when there was no variation in the numbers that would indicate movement, and therefore a flaw, in the metal. "Excellent," he praised her, "you're ready to start polishing." The rings were done. She wore hers on her right ring finger and Alex kept his on as well. September was over; they had decided to wait until Mulder's birthday in mid-October to put the rings on his hand. Finishing Scully's ring had taken next to no time. She had amazed Alex with the dexterity of her hands when the time came for the polishing and engraving of the ring. She could maneuver the small tools with an easy precision that Alex, despite his lengthy training with Anna, knew he would never be able to match. He had found himself providing less and less guidance to Scully as she developed her own rhythm and found in herself an untapped artistic ability that led to the creation of the beautifully crafted piece of gold she wore. "I almost want to start over and have you make my ring for me," Alex said to her as they sat together in Mulder's room on an early October evening. They were playing cribbage and Scully's ring, more brightly polished than Alex's, twinkled on her hand in the fading sunlight. "Yours is fine, Alex. I'm not waiting anymore." They played peacefully until Will came bouncing into the room from the walk he and Maggie had taken in the wood behind the hospital. "Hi, Sweetie. Nice walk?" "Yeah, it smells really good outside. Someone's burning leaves, Grandma says." Will bent over to kiss Mulder's still cheek, then climbed onto the bed to watch the card game. It was becoming routine for Scully and Will to meet up with Alex two or three afternoons a week after he finished his shift at Townsend. They would all visit with Mulder, talking with the comatose man and each other easily until dinner time. Sometimes the three of them would head over to the IHOP or go to Alex's nearby home for dinner. There were nights when Scully would let Alex and Will go on without her, leaving her alone with her love and her memories. And she knew there were nights when Alex would go back to the hospital and sit silently with his Lisa. The friendship between them grew, bound together in the man they hoped to heal, and Scully found the thought of the 'old' Krycek, the one she had feared and hated, fading from her memory. The night before Mulder's forty-eighth birthday, Alex and Scully were sitting in the lounge off the lobby of the hospital, discussing plans for the next day. "Is your mom okay with taking Will home tomorrow?" Alex asked as he idly plunked the keys of the old piano sitting in the far corner of the room. "Yeah, she's fine. I told her enough to let her know I was serious about not wanting Will here for this. If anything goes wrong, I don't want him to see it." "Nothing's going to go wrong, Dana. Relax." "Aleksandr, don't you know better than to ever say nothing's going to go wrong? It's like asking God to cold cock you." "Such irreverence, Dana Katherine. Seriously, the worst thing that can happen tomorrow night is that nothing happens." She was sitting on a couch beside the piano and she leaned her elbows on her knees, resting her face on her fisted hands. "I'm really nervous, Alex. What if what happened to you happens to him? The burning and the labored breathing, that could kill him." "Nothing bad is going to happen, Dana," Alex repeated consolingly. "You need to keep your focus still, there's more work for you to do tomorrow than me. After we put the rings on him, you sit tight, hold onto him and think those happy thoughts you're always making smart remarks about." "And you do what, exactly?" He swiveled around to face the keyboard squarely and began playing a slow, mellow piece Scully vaguely recognized from an old movie. "Not a blessed thing. My job is pretty much done. I put the ring on, I make sure it's seated well and I back off and let you do your stuff. Now relax and don't think about anything except him being well again." "I'm trying." She leaned her head back on the sofa and closed her eyes, trying to let Alex's playing lull her worries away. After a few silent minutes, she said, eyes still closed, "That's beautiful. Very plaintive." "It's called Solace. Scott Joplin." "The guy who did all the Ragtime?" "The same." "It's beautiful. What movie is it from?" "The Sting." She let herself drift away, thinking about Mulder and having him home again. The song ended and she heard Alex start getting up from the bench. "Play something else." "Happy or sad?" "Mmm, don't care. Something soft like that." Another melody began, even softer than the Joplin piece, flowing from a minor to major key and back again. Scully listened without comment until he finished. "Nice. What's that one?" "Elegie. Jules Massenet." She still sat with her head back and eyes shut and when Alex turned away from the keyboard, he saw that her face had finally relaxed. "Feel better now? No more worries?" he asked, leaning on an elbow. "Still worries, just not overwhelming." "Come on, you need to get home and rest for tomorrow." He got up and pulled on her hands to bring her to her feet. She got up stiffly and they walked to the front door together. A thought flitted through her mind and she stopped and looked at him. "Why don't you have a piano at your house?" He glanced at her with a surprised frown. "Because I don't plan on staying here long enough to spend the money on one. I play this one a bit every day, to keep in practice." "Do you have a cello at home?" Another frown and he nodded slowly. "An old, beat up one. What's with the sudden interest?" "It just occurred to me that when you lost your arm, that must have been really difficult." "Gee, you think?" "No, I mean, losing your music, not being able to play. That must have been one of the hardest parts of losing your arm." "It was the worst part of it." He held the door open for her with a pointed look, then said, "Stop looking at me like I'm a kicked puppy, Dana," as she brushed past with a saddened face. "You've just had a lot of shit to put up with in your life." "So has Mulder. So have you, if it comes to that. It's not a nice world. Crappy stuff happens." He shrugged as they walked through the cool, smoky night. They stopped at Scully's car and Alex waited while she climbed in and started the engine. "I'll see you tomorrow, Scully." "Night, Alex." "Well, don't you look like crap," Alex said when he got his first glimpse of Dana the next afternoon. "Hello to you, too, asshole," she replied in a hoarse, tired voice. "Did you sleep at all last night?" "Umm, maybe for about half an hour." She held her hands up as if to fend him off when he bristled up angrily. "Kidding, Alex, lighten up. I slept, I slept. For about two hours, at least." "Shit, Scully, why didn't you take something? You're going to need all eight cylinders for this, kiddo." "I didn't want to take anything that would make me foggy later. I'm fine, Alex, it's not a big deal. You forget I went to med school. Two hours of sleep is plenty." "I hope so," he said darkly. He looked more closely at the smudges beneath her dull eyes, her freckles standing out clearly against her white, white skin. "You know, it wouldn't kill us to wait one more day. Go home after we have dinner and sleep. We can do this tomorrow." "No way in hell, Alex. Tonight. My mom's bringing Will and cake in an hour. We can get set up and ready and then do it just as soon as they leave." "Dana, come on..." "No. Tonight. Got me?" He smiled to himself at the voice he remembered Mulder describing as two tons of fist in a smoky alto. "So bossy. Fine. But I want you to rest until your mom gets here. I'm going to change. When I get back we'll do the baselines and then you rest. You got me?" "You don't do bossy as well as I do," she said with a sleepy grin as she settled herself in the Lazy-Boy. When Alex came up from the locker room in jeans and a flannel shirt, Scully was asleep in her chair, her face turned to the window and her red hair curtaining her eyes. Alex sat down as gently as he could on the bed beside Mulder, holding the man's hand and stroking the palm softly, not really thinking of any particular memory, letting the deep emotions swirl around in his heart and brain. Minutes passed, close to a quarter of an hour, before Alex heard the soft swish of Scully's hair brushing the chair as she turned back to face the bed. He dropped the soft hand and stood up, meeting Scully's curious gaze. "You're supposed to rest," he said softly. She didn't answer at first, just held her eyes on his face as worry began to crease her forehead. "Alex, are you... are you going to be able to leave after this?" "Yeah, I'll go. I just wanted..." his voice trailed off as his eyes turned from Scully's face to Mulder's. "What is it, Alex?" "I don't know. Being a sap, I guess." He flashed a crooked little smile her way. "Don't look so worried, Scully. I'll go. Promise." "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound..." "Possessive?" he cut in. "It's okay. You are the possessor. I told you, he won't even see me once he sets eyes on you." "Alex..." "Give it a rest, okay, Scully?" He slashed his arm across his chest, a gesture Scully recognized now as a sign of his impatience. "If you're not going to sleep, let's run the baselines." He walked out of the room, but came right back in, followed by Maggie and Will carrying balloons and a big white cake box. "Look who's early," he said as Will twined the balloons around the bed rail and Maggie began unloading plates and napkins from the box. Scully jumped up to greet her mother and hug Will and they all talked animatedly together for a few minutes. "Will, you and Mr. Hale go ask the nurses and the orderly if they want to sing to Daddy with us and have cake, can you do that?" Scully asked as she lined up two dozen tiny white candles on the chocolate-frosted cake. When they were gone, Maggie gave Scully the raised eyebrow and said, "Did you want to talk to me alone, Dana?" "Not about anything big. I just wanted to say thank you for taking Will today and tonight. I can't tell you everything about what Alex and I are doing, but I appreciate your help while we do it." "Is it what you've been working on in the basement all summer?" "Yes, we hope to finish tonight. And I wanted to ask you tokeep Mulder in your prayers tonight." "I always do, Dana. Every single day." "Thank you, Mom. But pray extra-hard tonight, okay?" Will and Alex returned, followed by Margaret and Carrie and a third nurse Dana didn't know by name. They all stood clustered round Mulder's bed, singing without much tone but with plenty of spirit and then tucked into the cake. Maggie and Will left by 8:00. While Alex picked up the cake plates and coffee cups, Scully ran a series of tests on Mulder to establish base measurements of his brain's electrical activity and looked over his latest MRI and CAT scans. "I wish I could have gotten some brain stem response data before we started, just to see if anything's changed from the last one," she fussed as Alex untied the festive balloons from the bed. "I think what we have here should be enough. Any small changes that the stem responses would tell us about will show up soon enough on the EEG, won't they?" "I suppose. You know me, face the unpredictable with plenty of hard numbers." She watched the EEG patterns dapple the monitor, resigned to the smooth waves she'd been seeing for almost two years now. "You ready?" Alex asked, coming up to the bed next to her. "I guess so. What do I do first?" "I'm going to leave you two alone for a while. Just clear your head and get your focus on him. When I get back, we'll put the rings on." She nodded briefly, pursing her lips together and drawing shallow breaths. "All right. I'm going down to the lounge to get my own act together. I'll be back in fifteen minutes, okay?" "Yeah, go." Alex reached for her hand suddenly and squeezed it. "I'm counting on you, Scully. You're the strongest-minded person I've ever met. Use it to bring him back." He walked out of the room and Scully held a deep breath before perching on the bed next to Mulder. She picked up the limp hand and held it tightly and started the process of smoothing her jumbled thoughts away, searching for the precious image of Mulder in her arms and in Will's life again that she had held in mind throughout the making of her ring. Alex had drilled her again and again on how to keep other thoughts and worries from intruding when she was establishing her focus, how to brush mental pictures away like dust without breaking her increasing concentration. She wasn't surprised to feel Alex behind her suddenly.The act of focusing her mind so stringently often caused a narrowed reception of outside noises and sights and skewed time perception. If anyone had asked her, she would have said Alex had just left the room, not been gone a quarter of an hour. She had also learned to maintain focus even if she needed to do something else and so she said, without turning away from Mulder, "Ready when you are." "Good girl, you didn't even hear me, did you?" Alex whispered as he stood next to her. She shook her head absently, eyes closed, mind serene and full of Mulder. Alex's rustling next to her barely registered until she heard him speaking in low, rumbling tones in Russian. She felt herself wanting to wonder what he was saying and flicked the thought away gently. The words flowed on for some time, then broke off as Alex said, "You'll feel my hand on his and yours in a minute, then my hand on his head. Don't move, okay? And don't think..." "Won't," she whispered languidly. The Russian went on and on. She felt Alex's strong hand wrap around hers and Mulder's, then felt his arm brush across her shoulder as he moved his other hand to Mulder's head and kept speaking softly. "Okay. I'm going to put my ring on, then yours. You shouldn't really feel anything, just a little warmth maybe. Don't lose your focus. You can't let go once I put these on him. Are you okay? Do you need to take a break?" "No," she whispered again, Mulder still filling her mental visual field. She felt Alex's arm come down again and his hand release hers. She barely registered Alex's movements as he removed the ring from his hand and pulled Mulder's hand to place the ring there and when Alex took her hand and pulled the ring from her finger, she only had to lower her head slightly to make the feeling of the tug melt into irrelevance. She let herself sink further into the thoughts and image of Mulder, knowing only in the most peripheral part of her mind that Alex was moving Mulder's hand into position, that he had taken back hers and Mulder's other hands and was speaking softly again. A tiny perception of warmth began filtering into her mind and she made to brush it away when she realized Alex was speaking quietly to her. "Dana, can you feel anything? Just nod, don't talk, but let me know." She nodded once and said, "Warm." She felt Alex move away, still holding both hers and Mulder's hands, but no longer standing beside her. She never felt the point at which he released their hands and sat down in the chair beside the bed. She was immersed in her mind so deeply Alex had to shake her shoulder gently when 11:00 came near. "Dana, you okay? Hey, you with me, kiddo?" She opened her eyes dreamily and realized she was laying beside Mulder, still clasping his hand, now bearing the two rings. "Come on, I need you to sit up." She got up a little unsteadily and Alex put his hand under her shoulder to bring her the rest of the way up. "Was I sleeping?" He laughed softly. "No, you're just very good at concentrating." "I'm exhausted." "It's almost 11:00. Shift's going to change and they're going to come in to reposition him pretty soon. I've got the door closed, but..." "Any change in him at all?" "Not yet, but you knew there wouldn't be, not tonight," he said in a softly chiding voice. "I know. The Catholic in me was just hoping for a miracle." She rolled off the bed and stood up, stretching her stiff back and neck while Alex reattached the EEG electrodes and flipped the monitor back on. They stood beside each other, watching the monitor flicker to life and the smooth waves began spreading across the screen. "Nothing," she said dully. Alex punched her arm lightly. "Nothing is exactly what we expected, okay? Relax. We're just starting. Let's get a coffee or something downstairs and let the shift change do their stuff. We'll come back up when they're done and get back in position." He opened the door and waited for Scully to pass him, then turned to look back at the still form in the bed before following her down the hall. The next week passed in a blur for Scully. She spent nearly every waking and sleeping minute propped up next to Mulder in the narrow hospital bed. She got cramps in her fingers from clutching Mulder's hand endlessly. Her back complained whenever she moved, her neck was perpetually stiff and she missed two soccer games. The fatigue and mental wear brought to mind aching and endless shifts during her residency when she was so tired it seemed as if she'd never slept in her life. She found it increasingly difficult to keep her focus sharp, found herself more and more frequently brushing intrusive and despairing thoughts away. But it all slipped into insignificance when, on the tenth day after they had placed the rings on his finger, she saw a blip on the EEG monitor, the barest, tiniest ripple where for so long there had only been an endless line of smooth waves. She thought she'd imagined it, thought it might be a side effect of her struggle to stay focused and positive. But then she saw it again and, in a flash, was reaching for the phone to page Alex. "I saw something, Alex, I know I did. Get up here, please, hurry!" she breathed into the phone. He was in the room in less than two minutes, breathless from running up three flights. "What did you see? Was it on the monitor?" "Yes, there was a small peak, I swear it." Alex picked up the strip of paper trailing from the machinery while Scully continued to stare at the monitor. "I don't see it on the readout, Dana. Are you sure?" "Yes," she hissed at him, eyes still adhered to the monitor. A hushed, tense silence settled over the room. They stared, willing the machine to pick up something, anything that would encourage them in their hopes. Minute after minute passed. Finally, with a soft grunt, Alex turned away, gnawing his upper lip in angry disappointment. He scrubbed his hands across his face and turned back to Scully, whose face was stony with sadness. "Okay, don't let this throw you..." he began. "Oh! There it is again! Look!" She grabbed his arm and pointed to the screen, then snatched up the readout and began hunting for the telltale markings. He saw the faint blip on the screen this time and turned so he could read the tape as well. Scully found it, a tiny scratch on a thin strip of paper, but it may as well have been the Rosetta Stone for the magnitude it held for the two of them. Their eyes met over the piece of paper and then Scully threw her arms around Alex, laughing delightedly. He picked her up, echoing her joy with a loud, gleeful yell. They settled down quickly, turning back to the man in the bed and Scully resumed her position next to him. She picked up his hand and squeezed it tightly, then raised it to her mouth and kissed it roughly. "Wow, okay, this...this is working," Alex said with dark, excited eyes. "Umm, we should check him out again, do a CAT scan, maybe, huh?" "Now? I mean, today? Not yet. I'd rather get my focus back. Let's monitor the EEG for a while and see if the activity picks up over the next hour or so." Their euphoria dwindled rapidly over the next few days. The occasional peaks continued, increasing neither in duration nor strength nor frequency. Scully requested and oversaw a full battery of brain activity tests and only one or two showed miniscule, barely recordable traces of improvement. Just enough to raise their hopes, but not enough to keep them afloat. Scully's seemingly endless supply of energy and focus finally gave out the second Saturday after Mulder's birthday. She had gone home for dinner with Will, then come back to Townsend. She was by now absolutely determined to stay at Mulder's side until the changes she could see on paper manifested themselves in the body beside her. Alex came into the room to check on her at 10:30 and stood in the doorway, looking at her without speaking for a moment or two. Finally, he went to the bed and pulled her tangled, unwashed hair out of her gritty eyes. The solid, strong grip she'd been able to put in place with no effort two weeks ago was beyond her now and her mind drifted away the moment Alex touched her. "It's not really working after all, is it?" she asked softly, turning her head away from Mulder for the first time in three hours. Alex didn't answer, swallowing the nasty burn of anger that crept into the back of his throat. He put his hand on her shoulder and felt her slump into the pillow. "It will, kiddo, we just have to give it a bit more time. Maybe you should take a break, though. You're worn to the bone. Come on, I'll drive you home and you can get some sleep." "I can't sleep. I want to stay here, just in case..." "Dana, you won't do him any good dead on your feet and starving yourself." He pulled her gently off the bed and stood her in front of the mirror in the bathroom. "See? You've probably lost six pounds in the last two weeks, your eyes are pissholes and your hair looks like...I don't even know what to call that. What happened to it?" She looked at herself and sighed, silently agreeing with Alex that she looked like hell. "I let it dry by itself last time I washed it. It curls like that if I don't brush it out." "Interesting look, but if Mulder did wake up right now, you'd scare him to death." "Screw you, Alex," she said, too weary to put much bite in it. "Same to you, sister. Come on, let's take you home." "I should be here." "I know, but you've got to take care of yourself, too. Come on, just a couple hours. We'll come back first thing in the morning." She walked beside him, letting him lead her sleepily to the elevator, through the lobby and out to her car. She leaned on his shoulder while he dug the keys out of her purse, then sank back with a weak sigh as he gently guided her into her seat. The drive to Ten Hills passed silently, Scully drifting in and out of sleep and Alex humming softly with the radio. By the time they reached the house, Scully's meager grip on consciousness was gone and Alex, after a moment of lip-chewing thought, shrugged and lifted her out of the car. He carried her up the front walk to the door, kicking it softly. A sudden shaft of light hit them as the porch light came on and the front door opened. Maggie smiled in greeting, then walked ahead of Alex to turn on lights in the hallway and in Scully's bedroom. Alex laid Dana on her bed, then stood up to see Maggie pulling pajamas out of a drawer. He went to the door and would have walked out if not for Maggie's gentle hand on his arm and her warm voice in his ear. "You're a good friend to her, Alex. To her and Mulder both. Thank you." He looked down, nodded silently and left the room. He wandered down to the basement after Maggie left. He was becoming more and more comfortable here, with hints of Mulder all around him. Sprawling on the couch, he thought of what Maggie had said, that he was a good friend to both Scully and Mulder. He remembered a day, long ago, when he'd heard those same words, sitting on a bed in an old white house in Burbank. He'd watched while Mulder packed up extra shirts and jeans in an ancient duffel bag, then turned his eyes to the floor when Mulder sat down beside him and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. "You were a good friend to me when I needed one, Alex," he had said softly, not hearing the crack and shatter of Alex's heart. "I never would have made it through all this shit without you." Alex had swallowed twice before he could summon up any kind of voice at all. "Hey, glad to help, Mulder," he'd managed to say almost steadily and he'd actually slapped Mulder on the back jovially before unwinding the man's arms and standing up. He held out his hand and Mulder took it, holding it as he looked intently into the green eyes that were cold now, at the normally expressive face that looked set in concrete. "I'm Mulder again, then, huh? Not Lisa anymore?" "You never really were, were you?" Alex broke away from the relentless gaze, walking out to the front room where Will lay sleeping in his car seat. "You'd better get going while Junior's still out. Got a long drive back." He still avoided Mulder's eyes while they loaded the baby things and Mulder's meager bag into a rented Ford. Mulder took Alex's hand once more, rubbing the palm softly and said, "'Sandr, if you ever need..." Alex cut him off, pulled his hand away and walked back to the house, saying lightly over his shoulder, "Yeah, sure, I'll give you a jingle, you and Scully. Maybe we can do lunch sometime." He stepped inside and closed the door, willing his ears to shut out the thud of the car door and the rise of the engine and the sweep of the tires rolling away. An echo of the searing ache of that morning and of the many mornings that followed it coiled in Alex's belly as he lay on the couch in Scully's basement. He thought bitterly that Maggie Scully wouldn't have such a high opinion of his friendship for her daughter if she knew how he still had to bite back the angry, bitter words and jealous, hateful glares that boiled up in him sometimes. He had come to care for Dana Scully in a warped way he'd never imagined would be possible after that February day when Lisa had gone. He liked her, found her funny, thought she was a wonderful mother to Will and an all-around decent human being. But there were dark and frightening times when he hated her passionately, hated the love Mulder harbored for her, the love for Scully that kept Alex out. He remembered the black desire to kill Dana that had swept over him for the better part of a month after Mulder's departure, the plotting and planning to eradicate the one obstacle between he and his Lisa. Alex shrugged his shoulders roughly, pushing Krycek back into the murky part of his brain where the dark part of him still lived. He'd be Dana's friend, he'd be Mulder's friend, if it killed him, which, on a night like this, seemed all too likely. He stood up, going to the workbench to pick up his notebooks and began searching through them. Dana woke up just past 6:00 and stretched, feeling the tight, sore muscles in her back and neck pull and pop. She lay in bed for a few minutes, thinking long, dull thoughts about going back to Townsend, back to Mulder's room, back to endless hours of staring at the monitors and searching the readout tapes. She felt a tiny quiet thought seep into her mind--I don't want to anymore--and sat up quickly, guilt and anger flooding her body as she threw on Mulder's old robe. She peeked into Will's room to make sure he was still sleeping soundly, then stomped into the kitchen and began making coffee. She was rummaging in the refrigerator for cream when she heard a sleep-roughened voice saying from the basement door, "What's for breakfast?" Her heart jumped into her throat for a moment as she whirled around, then she heaved out a shaky breath as she recognized Alex. "Don't sneak up on me like that," she snapped at him. "Sorry," he said with a tired smile. He yawned as he came up the rest of the stairs and settled himself in a chair. "How come you're up so early?" "How come you're still here?" "I wanted to look over my notes last night and I was too tired to drive back to Bethesda, okay with you?" She sat across from him and pushed a cup towards him. "I didn't mean to sound so snappy. I'm just wiped out." She took a sip of her coffee and sighed. "Thanks for driving me home last night." "No problem," he said and drank some of his own coffee. He raised his eyebrow at her. "This is real coffee, Scully. From beans, not a can. What's up?" "You spoiled grocery store coffee for me. I had too much of the good stuff when you brought it here over the summer." "Good, another soul corrupted by the coffee demons. It's my mission in life to put Folger's and Maxwell House out of business." "You really can be the most pretentious snob, Alex," she said after they shared a laugh. They sat in companionable silence together for some minutes before she nodded at the notebook he'd brought upstairs with him. "What are you reading up on?" He flipped through a few pages, then passed it to her. "I'm trying to figure out what's blocking the flow between you and Mulder. I was up till 3:00, working it out in my head. I can tell the energy is leaving you, you're so drained, but it's not getting to Mulder. Something's in the way and I'm hoping something in my notes will tell me what it is." "Come to any conclusions yet?" she asked as she read through the pages he'd indicated. "Not really. I keep thinking about what Anna said, about barriers between people. I'm trying to think what reason he would have to fight you on this." "I don't think I'm following you. You're talking like Mulder is making a choice here, like he's involved in this somehow." "Of course he's involved, Scully. He knows you're there, he's got to feel you trying to pour your energy into him. Why won't he take it?" She frowned into her coffee as Alex stood up and began pacing the kitchen, his brows drawing together as he thought aloud. "Okay, what kinds of barriers are between people?" Scully's forehead wrinkled in concentration. "Anger, hatred..." "I don't see how those would apply, unless you guys were having problems you haven't mentioned." "No, there was nothing like that. Unless maybe there was something he wasn't telling me about." The words were barely out of her mouth when the insight flashed through her mind, like the lightbulb over a cartoon character's head. Alex looked at her frozen expression. "What is it?" "It's you, Alex," she breathed. "You're blocking it." His face froze as well, then he shook his head. "I doubt that, Scully. It would have to be something pretty big to interfere with the feelings between you two." She snorted indelicately. "Not telling me he was bisexual and having a year-long affair with you, of all people, is pretty important, don't you think? You say he knows I'm here, pouring myself into him. Does he know you're here, too?" "Yeah, he knows, but..." Alex stopped pacing, leaning against the counter as he listened to Scully's argument. "But nothing, Alex. He knows you're involved with this, but he doesn't know I know about the two of you, right?" "Right," he said cautiously. "And if Mulder is still Mulder, he would feel guilty about not telling me about his sexual preferences and his past with you, right?" "Of course he would." "And guilt would make a great barrier between people, wouldn't you say?" "I suppose," he admitted. "So, that's probably the problem. We tell Mulder I know about you guys and that he doesn't need to feel guilty about it." "And you think that'll make everything rosy in the garden, huh?" He shook his head again. "Dana, I agree that it's likely guilt that's got Mulder pulling away from you, but it's going to be about something momentous. The abduction or Melissa..." "Alex, do you think Mulder and I never worked through all that? In all the time we were together?" "I just don't think it's me. There could be something else, something neither of us knows about." "If that's the case, then we're screwed, aren't we? Let's work with what we have, what we can do something about." Alex sat down across from her and scanned her face, looking for something besides the tenacity there. He wiped his hands across his own face and said with a resigned sigh, "Fine. I know better than to argue with you by now. But you better hope to God this doesn't set us back or I'm going to kick your ass." "Oh, yeah, I'm so scared," she sneered good-naturedly, then went back to her coffee while Alex lost himself in dark, worried thoughts. They stood beside Mulder's bed, Scully clasping his hand, Alex standing just behind her, nervously watching the EEG monitor. She glanced over her shoulder at him and, at his hesitant nod, stroked Mulder's forehead as she began speaking softly. "Sorry I didn't stay the night with you, love. I needed to go home and get a good night's sleep. Listen, Mulder, you know Alex is here with me. He's trying to help you. I'm trying, too, but you're fighting us. I want you to come back to me, love, I miss you so much and Will needs you so much. Please don't pull away from me. Let me help you. I've been telling you, since we put that ring on your finger, that I want you to come back." She kissed his hand gently and continued running her fingers across his unresponsive face. "Mulder, I know. I know all about you and Alex, about what happened when you left at Christmas that year. You turned to Alex because I hurt you and I understand that. It's okay. You don't have to worry about it upsetting me. I love you, I never stopped loving you and nothing you do will ever make me stop loving you. I'm sorry you thought you couldn't tell me about...everything about yourself. So you like guys, too, do you, you kinky bugger?" she said with a shaky laugh. "Well, that's part of you and I love you. And if Alex was what you needed back then, that's okay. He told me, he told me all about Christmas Day that year, when you had a gun to your head. Alex stopped you, babe, and for that, I'd forgive him anything he's ever done. Alex can help you, sweetheart, he can help bring you back to me and Will. He wants to help us, Love, help us have our life back, but you have to let us in. Don't worry about me and Alex, we're okay. I know everything that happened between you two and it doesn't change a thing." She took a deep breath. "Nothing changes the fact that I love you, Mulder. Everything you are now and everything you were back then, I love it all, every last thing that makes you, you. Let me in, Baby, so you can come back to me." She kissed his hand again. It felt natural to climb into the bed beside him and curl herself smoothly around his wasted body. Alex walked out of the room without looking back at the entwined couple. Scull's revelation seemed to prod Mulder along another inch or two. The brain activity increased in frequency over the next ten days until two or three peaks were registering every hour. The changes were still almost imperceptible, still weak and insignificant in the face of the damage they were trying to reverse. Then the faint signals stopped increasing, stalling out by Thanksgiving. Scully found herself almost dreading the moment when she climbed into Mulder's bed each day to begin the painful staring and hoping and waiting that went on hour after hour. Alex and Maggie were practically living at her house while she spent every spare moment at Townsend. Maggie held her tongue as far as she was able until she came to the hospital a few days after Thanksgiving and found Dana, dull and waifish, asleep on her knees beside Mulder's bed. She'd tried to understand her daughter's manic need to find a way to help the man Maggie loved as much as her sons. She'd taken up slack with Will to free Dana's time for this bizarre experiment she and Alex were wrapped up in, but she couldn't stand to watch her daughter waste away anymore. She stood in the doorway, knowing the mute, cutting grief was eroding her only daughter and decided enough was enough. "Dana, get up. I need to talk to you." Dana heard Maggie's voice dimly through her miserable, exhausted fog and turned to look at her mother. Maggie looked the same as she had years ago, when she was telling a defiant fifteen year old Dana that she was not going to stay out as late as Melissa. She got creakily up from the floor and cast a wary, questioning gaze at her mother. "Come on, let's go to the lounge or the cafeteria. You need to be out of here for a bit." "I'd really rather stay here, Mom. I need..." "You need to eat, sleep and bathe, Dana. And that's just for starters. Come out of here. I don't want to talk in front of Fox." Dana raised her eyebrow at her mother's words, but followed her out into the hallway. They sat down in the small lounge and Maggie took a deep breath before starting. "Dana, do you remember what I said to you back in the Spring? Before you went to Russia and started working with Alex?" "You said Mulder didn't need me anymore," the younger woman replied stonily. "I said he didn't need you the way Will did. And that's still true, Dana. Whatever you and Alex are trying to do, it's killing you. How much weight have you lost since you started this project?" "I don't know." "I don't either, but it's more than you can afford. When was the last time you slept in a bed? Or in your own home, for that matter? When was the last time you put Will to bed, instead of Alex or I doing it?" Dana winced, realizing she couldn't remember the last time she'd been the one to oversee tooth brushing and story reading. "I told you, Mom, we're getting closer. He's getting better a little bit at a time and it's taking far longer than we expected, but..." "Dana, Fox isn't going to get better," Maggie said sharply. "Is that blunt enough for you? He isn't going to get better, whether you spend ten minutes a day with him or ten hours. You sitting next to him in that bed isn't going to change anything." "It will, Mom. I can't explain it to you..." "No, you can't. It's unhealthy, Dana. And it's so very bad for Will, to keep him thinking that anything will make a difference at this point. He needs to understand that his father is not coming back. And he won't understand that while you're glued to Fox's side every minute of the day and night." "Alex and I have found a way to cure him, Mom. It's working, just very, very slowly. The amount of damage that was done and the length of time he's been unconscious is slowing the process down, but it is working. I know it is." "How long are you willing to wait for that to happen, Dana? Another two years? Five? Ten? Until Will grows up the way Fox did, chasing a ghost and living in shadows?" Dana recoiled at the words as if she'd been slapped. Her mother painted a horrifying picture of Will growing up in the haunted netherworld of bitter dreams and crushed hopes that had so defined his father. The image dashed through her soul like ice water. Was that what she was doing? Instead of healing Mulder, instead of bringing Will's father back to him, was she condemning her son to his father's fate? Maggie read the tumult of emotion in Dana's face and took her daughter's hand, rubbing it gently and speaking softly. "I know you don't want to quit, Dana, you never did. But sometimes, the strongest, wisest thing we can do is accept the truth, however painful or ugly it is. Letting go of a dream hurts, I know. But hanging on to a dream that keeps you from living your life is going to hurt more, sweetheart, because one day you're going to wake up and realize that you've let your life pass you by. And I don't want you to miss out on whatever might be ahead for you and Will. I know you love Fox, no one who sees you with him could ever doubt that you love him. But he's gone, Dana, even if his body isn't. Love him, mourn him and let him go. Please, sweetheart, don't give up your life and Will's precious, short childhood waiting for something that just isn't going to happen." Dana crumpled sideways into her mother's lap, shaking and gulping with sobs she'd never learned to release. Maggie combed her fingers through the tangled coppery mass, murmuring soothing words while her daughter fought against her dreams. Scully's battle raged for almost a month. The days and nights beside Mulder's body blended together into a ceaseless stretch of wasted time. There'd been no further change in Mulder, no differences in the blips that just went blithely along, never getting stronger or clearer, never meaning anything. As much as she tried to embed the old picture of Mulder in her arms, another picture was becoming clearer and clearer. Will in Mulder's shoes twenty years from now, arrested, frozen in time while he waited for his mother and hoped that his father, almost dead for years, would somehow come back to him. Scully reached her own epiphany the gray Saturday morning before Christmas, waking up beside Mulder, his eyes open and dull and not seeing her, spit shining on his chin, his fingers tightened into the hooked posture she hated, and she broke. She loved him, but he was gone. It was that simple. She stood up, clasped his hand to her heart tightly and kissed his unresponsive lips. "I love you, Fox Mulder, no matter what else happens in this stupid, crappy world, don't you ever forget that I love you." She walked out of his room, leaving the half-widow behind and decided that she was going to go home and make pancakes for her son and then they would go Christmas shopping. The same Saturday that Scully conceded victory to Fate, Alex ended his shift at 3:00 and, as usual, went straight to the fifth floor, ready to relieve Scully for a bit from her tedious vigil. He stopped short at the door to Mulder's room, surprised and vaguely concerned at seeing only the prone man in the bed. Her jacket and change of clothes were gone from the closet and her purse wasn't on the table by the door. He turned quickly to check the bathroom and saw that her toiletry bag was gone as well. What the hell, he thought to himself, frowning deeply as he sat beside Mulder and mechanically picked up the other man's hand. He ran through the last few conversations he and Scully had had, looking for a reason for her absence. Maybe Will or Maggie had gotten sick? But she would have called him, right? Rather than break off the energy and leaving Mulder like this? She wouldn't just go, right? Alex felt his gut clench at the thought of Scully packing up her stuff and walking out the door without making sure that Mulder was taken care of. They never left him alone anymore. Alex would take over for odd half-hours while Scully took a break, but one or the other of them was always there, always trying to maintain the energy and the focus. So where the hell was she? He flipped open his cell phone and hit the speed dial for the house in Ten Hills, frowning when the answering machine came on. "Scully, it's Alex. You need to let me know when you leave. It's a bad idea to break off completely, you know that. Call me and let me know when you'll be back. I'll be here." He ended the call, then immediately dialed Scully's cell number. At the atonal voice telling him the customer was unavailable, he slammed his own phone shut and threw it onto the Lazy Boy. By Sunday afternoon, Alex was beyond concerned and verging on panic. He hadn't left Mulder's side, except for one quick trip to the cafeteria, since Saturday afternoon. He'd left five messages on Scully's home phone and had called the cell at least twice that number. He swallowed his pride on Sunday and tracked down Maggie Scully's phone number. He bit his lip in an effort to keep from yelling his frustration into the phone when Maggie's answering machine came on. "Hi, Maggie, this is Alex Hale. I'm trying to get a hold of Dana, I need to talk to her about this project of ours. If you see or talk to her, tell her she needs to call me, pronto. I'll be at the hospital, in Mulder's room." He hung up the phone and lay back on the bed beside Mulder. He took his hand, stroking the palm softly, prying the stiff fingers open and toying with the two gold bands. Scully stood in the doorway of Mulder's room Sunday night, blocking Will's view of Alex sleeping beside Mulder, still clasping his hand. She made up an errand for Will at the nurse's station, then walked up to the bed and chucked Alex under his chin. He woke with a start and sat up, stiff and awkward. Scully assumed he'd spent the night in either the Lazy Boy or Mulder's bed and she pursed her lips at the thought of the upcoming scene she knew Alex was going to make. He didn't give her even a moment to collect her thoughts. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, getting to his feet. "With Will and my mom." "You should have let me know you weren't going to be here," he said shortly. "I was getting worried." "I know, I got your messages. All of them," she said with a gentle smile. "Why didn't you let me know you were going out? He shouldn't be left like that. It'll set us back." Before Alex could go on, Will came back into the room with a glass of water for Dana. "Hi, Mr. Hale." "Hey, Will. What's up? You getting excited about Christmas?" He asked jerkily, trying to quickly shift gears from angry to friendly. "Yeah, only two more days. We went Christmas shopping yesterday and I saw Santa at the store. Well, you know, it's not really Santa, it's a guy pretending, but he's the one who sends a letter to Santa to let him know what you want." "What did you ask him for? Or is it a secret?" "It's not a secret. I want a dog and a skateboard. And I want Dad to get better, but I don't think that's a Santa thing. It's probably a God thing." Alex laughed but still felt a jolt of pain at Will's words. "Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask Santa, too." "What do you want for Christmas, Mr. Hale?" Alex looked surprised by the question. He answered slowly and honestly. "Nothing, really, Will. I'm lucky. I have just about everything I need." "But what do you want?" the boy persisted. Alex looked out the window and said, "I don't want anything anymore." He turned to face Will, picking him up and plopping in the Lazy-Boy with Mulder's son. "How about you, Will? What can I get you that you didn't ask Santa for? " "Alex, you don't have to ..." Scully began, but Alex cut her off. "I want to, Scully. Who else do I have to get presents for?" He gave her a sickly smile. "I'm trying to capture a little holiday magic here. Don't be a killjoy. Come on, Will. Give me some ideas." Will leaned back against Alex, tired out from his long day and long-used to Alex's presence in his house and his life. "I think a new soccer ball would be cool. A real one, like they use in the pros. Or a computer game." "Okay, I'll see what I can do. Did you have fun today?" "No, I don't like shopping. Grandma and Mom kept looking at clothes and it was really boring." "I bet it was. Next time your mom says she wants to go shopping, you call me and I'll rescue you from her, okay?" Scully was sitting beside Mulder, stroking his head absently and listening to Alex and Will. Hearing Alex's last comment, she turned her head to him and stuck out her tongue. Will giggled, then yawned and nestled closer to Alex, who rocked the chair lightly and held the boy tentatively. The room grew quiet. Will was almost asleep while Alex kept a wary eye on Mulder and Scully. Dana finally collected herself, knowing she had to tell Alex tonight that their work was done. "Will," she whispered. "Come on, we need to get home. It's past your bedtime." Alex's head jerked up and he looked at her intently. She was going home, after being gone all weekend? What the hell was she thinking? "I'll take him, Scully. You need to stay here." "No, Alex. I'm going to take Will home and put him to bed and then I'll be back," she said firmly. "Come on, Will. Grandma's going to be worrying when she sees it's snowing." With another yawn and a spontaneous clasp of his arms around Alex's neck, Will climbed down and went to his father's bedside. Alex stood up and turned away from Scully, looking out at the moonlit yard below. "See you later, Daddy," the boy said in his cheerful voice and placed a quick kiss on Mulder's cheek. He waved to Alex and bid him good night and they left the room, leaving the man near the window alone, angry and apprehensive. "What the fuck do you mean, you're finished?" Alex's angry hiss sounded loud in the quiet, late-night stillness of the fifth floor lounge. Scully had returned to Townsend around 11:00 Sunday night, tired in her body and weary in her heart, knowing what kind of scene she would be in for. She had convinced Alex to leave Mulder's room, not wanting the man, even in his unconsciousness, to hear that she was giving up. "I mean I'm not going to spend the next God knows how long staring at a monitor and measuring improvement in microns. It's been over two months and there's been nothing. The system damage is continuing and the brain activity never increased beyond the most minute increments. And even that's stopped. It's not working, for whatever reason. At this rate, he'll die of old age before he comes out of this." "You can't give up on him, Dana. Just give it some more time." "I don't want to give up Alex, but I think we have to. I don't have all the time in the world to give him. I have to save some for Will. This, all this waiting and worrying and hoping and nothing happening, it's all going to hurt Will and that's the last thing Mulder would want." "It's not hurting Will to bring his father back to him." "Alex, please believe me when I say this isn't what I want. But it's what I have to do. I have to take care of Will and I haven't been doing that lately..." "I have. Will's fine, Scully. He'll be even better when Mulder is back." "Will isn't your responsibility. He's mine. He's all I have left and I'm not screwing that up." "Don't do this, Dana, please. Don't quit yet. We're getting there," Alex pleaded in the most pained voice Scully had yet heard from him. "Alex," she began as gently as she could, "do you remember Mulder when you first met him? The basket case who wanted to find his sister? He was an emotional cripple, always one step on the skinny side of crazy. Because he let his need for Samantha consume him. He lost twenty-five years of his life to that need. I've already taken two years from Will while I focused on my need for Mulder to get well. I have to accept that that isn't going to happen. I won't let Will become Mulder, giving up his childhood and his youth to some fruitless pursuit." She reached out for Alex's hand, but he jerked away from her touch. "Alex, we tried. I know you did everything you could and you'd do more if there was something else to do, but Mulder's gone, Alex. No matter what we do, we can't bring him back. We tried..." Alex jumped up and paced the hall restlessly, reminding Scully of agitated, caged animals she'd seen in zoos. She'd never seen anyone's anger and sorrow so naked, almost like another skin and she felt one of the brief, fearful twinges that came on her whenever she got another peek at the cold, blood-stained Krycek. She'd known, ever since she'd forced herself to accept what Maggie had said to her, that telling Alex would be close to the hardest thing she'd ever done. She knew, even if Alex didn't, that part of the drive possessing him through this whole ordeal had been a frantic desire to see his Lisa one last time, to close that chapter of his misspent life and find a way to move on to the next. And taking that last bit of hope from him was wrenching her heart. She realized suddenly that there was a tie to Alex that had tightened so much that hurting him would hurt her, too. Alex crossed the room and came back to where she sat, stunning her when he fell to his knees in front of her and grabbed her hands in his, tears pouring from his glassy, frightened eyes and his voice breaking passionately. The odd thought flickered through her mind--what must it be like to be able to pour yourself out, heart and soul, this way, to not worry about what you look like or who's going to think you're weak? Just then, she envied Alex his easy emotions, even as they tore through her heart. "Jesus, Dana, I'm begging you. Don't leave him to die. Don't let him go away for good. God, Dana, you can't do this to him." He swallowed convulsively, then let the sobs tear out of his throat, sinking his head into her lap. "You can't let him die, you can't, please don't..." She stroked the trembling shoulders and whispered soothing nonsense into his ear, but minutes passed and the crying and pleading went on, his body shaking, his lovely voice becoming more and more ragged. "Shh, Alex, it's okay, it'll be okay," she said softly, the first clear words she'd spoken in almost ten minutes. "NO!" he suddenly bellowed, jumping away from her and knocking her from her chair to the ground. "It's not okay! It's never going to be okay without him! God, I believed you, I believed you trusted me enough to bring him back and now you're quitting. You're going to turn your back on him again, aren't you? You did it before and left me to pick up the mess you made. Well, you know what? Fine. Go to hell, Dana, and leave him to me." He bolted from the lounge and headed straight for Mulder's room. Scully, still shocked, sitting on the floor, heard the door down the hall close sharply. She wondered if she should follow him or if Alex was so angry he'd hurt her if she tried to talk to him. She shook her head, deciding that leaving Alex to work out his pain in solitude was still the best way of dealing with his dark side. She knew without question that Mulder would be safe with Alex, no matter how ugly his mood, so she determined she would wait for him in the lounge. Alex stood looking out the window of the dimly lit room, breath still coming out shakily, his eyes swollen, his throat burning and his heart, that he'd thought was already broken, crumbling into even smaller fragments, as if Scully were dancing on the shards left behind when Mulder had gone back to her in the first place. Damn you to hell, he thought blackly. I should have killed you when I had the chance. Finally controlling his breathing, he turned from the window to lean one hip on Mulder's bed, the black scowl on his face melting quickly when Mulder gave one of his twitches, his hand spasming tightly shut for a brief moment, then resuming its painful clawed position. "Shhh, Lisa, relax," Alex murmured as he picked up the rigid limb and began flexing and massaging the fingers and wrist, working the cramped joints as loose as he could. "Am I making you tense? I'm sending out bad vibes, huh? Don't worry, she's safe. If I didn't kill her then, I won't do it now, not when it won't make any damn difference anyway." He sat down, swinging his legs up beside Mulder's, still working the fingers, picking up his other hand and massaging that one as well, watching the dim light reflect off the rings placed there. "Lisa, I want this to work so badly. Why won't you let it? What else can I do?" He lay back, closing his eyes, trying to find an argument that would convince Scully to keep working with him, trying to find something they'd missed that was causing the healing to fail, trying not to think of nights with his arms wrapped around this man. The tears began again and Alex turned so that his chin rested on the top of Mulder's head, a position he'd slept in almost every night for the best year of his life. "Lisa," he whispered to himself, trying to soothe his stormy mind with the sound of his beloved's name. His memories poured in unbidden and unstoppable, and he cursed himself for a besotted fool for the thousandth time since he'd first admitted he had gone beyond an engulfing lust for Fox Mulder. Somehow he'd crossed over some subtle threshold into love, affection, respect, warmth-all highly dangerous things for assassins and skulkers to indulge in. There was a time when Alex thought if he could just throw Mulder down and fuck him senseless, that would be the end of it, of sleepless nights and unsatisfying dalliances and unfamiliar and frightening bouts of distraction. But each exposure to Mulder's razor of a mind and strong, beleaguered soul led Alex further from the scorch of lust and closer to the warmth of love. And after a three-hour long meeting in which Mulder agreed to work with him and admitted that Alex might not be evil incarnate and thought his erstwhile antagonist might actually have some redemptive value, Alex's soul sang for the first time in his adult life at the thought that Fox Mulder might someday like him. And on the night he'd told Scully about, the night he'd asked Mulder, in between hard, hungry kisses and fervent strokes at burning groins, if he was going to regret what they were doing once the afterglow had worn off, Mulder had held Alex's chin and locked his changeful eyes with the deepened black-green of Alex's and said, "I want you, Aleksandr. God help me, you'll probably fuck me to death, but I want you so much my blood's burning with it." Alex had needed a few moments to steady himself while he searched out a tube of KY, almost unable to bear the thought that Mulder would give this to him. He stared into the bathroom mirror, hoping to God he didn't ruin this, then laughed and splashed cold water on his face when he heard Mulder's voice, coming from Alex's bed, asking if he needed help finding his dick. Alex rolled to his back in the narrow hospital bed, keeping his arms around Mulder and letting the memory of that night wash over him. They had quickly satisfied each other and afterwards Mulder lay on his back with his eyes almost closed, one hand resting behind his mussed head and one lying across his damp chest. One of his long legs was wrapped comfortably around one of Alex's and Alex lay on his side, head propped on his hand, the other one playing with the fingers splayed across Mulder's chest. There was a comfortable silence between the two men for some minutes until Mulder turned his head and opened his eyes to meet the strong green gaze of his new lover. "You're staring, Krycek. That's not very polite." "I'm trying to ingrain this picture of you in my head. Naked and sweaty in my bed...it's unspeakably beautiful." Mulder's face reddened and he turned his face away with a self-conscious laugh. Alex laughed softly in turn, then tweaked one soft brown nipple and, hearing the slight intake of breath and seeing Mulder's stomach muscles clench, lowered his mouth to the peak and gently licked it. Mulder pulled the dark-haired head up abruptly, looking down at the green eyes and shook his head. "I want to ask you something before you do anything else unspeakable to me tonight." "Umm... you were the best ever?" Alex said with a smirk "Asshole," Mulder laughed. "Seriously, I know this is probably none of my damned business, but who's Lisa?" "Lisa?" "You said, well, you yelled it, really, if you want to get picky...you said 'Lisa' a couple times when things were heating up. And you really let it fly about two seconds before you blew your load. I'm trying not to be insulted." Alex burst into laughter, turning onto his back and pulling Mulder's hand so that the other man lay facing him. "I babble a lot when I fuck. Not always in English." "And...?" "Well, I'm old-fashioned about some things and I flatly refuse to call anyone by his last name while my cock's in his ass, so I call you 'Lisa' to myself. It means 'fox' in Russian." "Is this some kind of gay pride thing? Call me by a woman's name, reclaim your masculinity?" "What makes you think I'm gay?" Mulder tipped back his head to eye Alex dubiously and waved his hand between their naked chests. "Kind of a dead giveaway, don't you think?" "Are you gay?" Alex asked with an upturned eyebrow. "I am right now. It comes and goes." "You make it sound like psoriasis. The PC term for people with our proclivities is bisexual. Say it with me now, boys and girls..." Mulder slapped the broad chest in front of him and they laughed together. "So, Lisa, huh? That's...acceptable. You have my permission, in the privacy of our home, to call me that. Don't ever do it in public or I'll kill you." "Okay, I'll stick with 'Fox' when we're out and about." "I'll kill you, then, too." "How about 'Hey, you'?" "That'll do." Mulder sighed contentedly, then reached out to smooth Alex's messy hair while he picked up their previous conversation. "So, Russian when you fuck, huh? And what does 'gospodi' mean?" Alex chuffed out another quick laugh. "That means 'God'. More along the lines of 'Oh, god, fuck me now, you sweet hunk of man.' Not like, 'God's going to send me straight to hell when I die.'" "So, 'Gospodi, Lisa', that's just your basic grunt and moan type talk, huh?" It was Alex's turn to blush. He'd conditioned himself during the course of his misbegotten career to keep himself back during sex, just so that his tendency to vocalize wouldn't get him killed. He hadn't realized how much his finally unrestrained mouth had spilled during the night's action and found himself hoping nothing horribly embarrassing had slipped out. "Yeah," he finally answered Mulder. "I can grunt and moan in about six different languages." "Gee, I'm impressed. I've only picked up one so far." "French, German or Spanish?" "You'll love this...Latin." "Latin? God, you are the most bizarre person. What the hell good did Latin ever do you?" "Latin is dead useful. Lots of cognates, the grammar rules teach you to think logically and you can curse the hell out of people and it sounds erudite and scholarly." "Let's hear some." "Umm...e pluribus unum." Alex laughed until he nearly fell out of bed, Fox's hand around his wrist the only thing that kept him from tumbling to the floor. "Okay, how about...aurea mediocritas, est modus in rebus." "It sounds sexy as hell. What does it mean?" "Loosely translated, it means 'all things in moderation.' It was my high school Latin teacher's motto." "Oh, come on. That's boring." "Well, what were you expecting?" "Curse words. Dirty words." "Odi profanum vulgus et arceo." Alex waited for the punch line and Mulder smirked. "'I hate and shun the profane crowd.'" "Come on. Teach me something good." "I'm not teaching you Latin curse words." "Lisa, moy mal'chik, tell me something dirty." "What did you just call me?" Fox asked suspiciously. "Nothing bad. It means little boy. But I'll tell you something dirty in Russian. Fair trade?" "This is perverse. Latin is a rich and beautiful language and you want to degrade it, saeve puer. Es Barbarus." "Translation?" Fox rolled his eyes. "I should make you figure it out yourself. 'Brutish boy, you are a barbarian.'" Alex felt a jolt deep in his stomach and an echoing twitch in his cock. It was Latin, a Latin insult and it was making him hard. Again. "Sweet talker," he said huskily. "Sceleratus... lutulente..." Mulder drew the unfamiliar words out in a seductive, low drawl. Alex closed his eyes and let the warmth in his crotch wash over him. He reached for Mulder's shoulder and pulled him down into a quick, fierce kiss. "I don't even want to know what kind of names you just called me, but it's turning me on like you wouldn't believe," he growled when they pulled apart. He pressed his rejuvenated erection against Mulder's hip and started rocking gently. "You like being called scoundrel and dirt bag in Latin, then?" "Love it." "Merus stupor...verbero..." "Oh, baby, do it to me..." Alex laughed. "Bellus homo..." "Hey now, that's getting personal." It was Mulder's turn to laugh, then he leaned closer and said, "It means 'pretty boy,' you paranoid freak. Pretty boy, like you...livide furia." "Meaning..." "Green-eyed fiend." Alex's stomach gave another hectic jump at the husky whisper against his ear. He groaned and moved against Mulder harshly, feeling an answering stir in the other man's cock. The movement between the two men quickened and Mulder's voice was deep and rough as he said, "Let's hear it, pervert. It's your turn." "Mmm, huyesoska...zloy yobar'..." "Meaning..." "Cocksucker...nasty fucker..." Alex punctuated each word with a grinding thrust, then took both cocks in his hand and encouraged Mulder's growing erection. "Your turn, Lisa." "I think you should go again." "Really? Why is that?" "I have a feeling you know more interesting words than I do." "You think? Words like...plutovka...suka..." "What...?" "Slut...bitch...God, Lisa, do that again," Alex rasped out as Mulder's teeth worried his neck and shoulder. "Tselui, Lisa." A pause, then, "Kiss me, Lisa." Mulder moved his mouth up to Alex's, hungrily sucking and biting at his tongue and lips while Alex groaned beneath him. "Ya tebya hochu, Lisa," he hissed between Mulder's frantic possessions of his mouth. "I want you." Mulder pulled his head up and looked into the darkening green eyes. Alex ran his hands across Mulder's strained nipples, then reached lower to wrap his fingers around the other man's thickened cock, gauging his readiness for another round. "Lozhis', Lisa, i razozhmi nogi." He wriggled out from under Mulder and turned, pushing the other man's shoulders down. "Do I need to know what you just said?" Mulder asked breathlessly. "You might want to pick up a few handy phrases. Like, lie down... 'lozhis'' and spread your legs... 'razozhmi nogi.'" "How do you say hurry up and fuck me?" Alex dropped his head at the jolt of excited pleasure warping through his body, still almost unbelieving that this was Lisa, his long-desired Lisa, writhing beneath him and asking him to fuck him. Alex moved down Mulder's body, greedily licking and sucking any bit of skin he could pull into his mouth. "Bystraye i yeblia." The words were muddled from being muttered around Mulder's cock and soon any other words fell into gibberish as Alex pulled all of the man's throbbing dick into his throat. He sucked heavily for only a minute before he felt hands pulling at his hair. "Christ, Alex, come on ..." With a last, regretful suck, Alex moved back up to Mulder's mouth, then reached over the side of the bed for the bottle he'd brought out of the bathroom earlier. Mulder rolled onto his stomach while Alex lubed his stiff and aching cock and began working his cool gel-slick fingers between the smoothly muscled flesh of Mulder's ass, finding him still soft and receptive from their first hasty coupling. "Krasiviye zhopa, Lisa..." he whispered reverently and began pressing into the opening that bloomed and widened beneath the force and made his Lisa twist and cry out. "You okay?" "Unh, god, yes, good..." Mulder rose to his knees, rocking back against Alex to absorb the blood-ripened organ into his muscled passage, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck and groaning along with him at the fullness and heat. "What ...did you just ...god, Alex... what did you say?" he asked, grunting at Alex's first slow thrusts. "Fuck, I don't know..." "Zopa something..." "Mmm, beautiful...ass... oh, god, Lisa, keep moving like that...Christ, so good, Lisa...Lisa...shit, you better hang on..." Those were the last words in English Alex let out for the wondrous timeless minutes he pounded into Mulder, stroking one hand fiercely along the other man's steely flesh and caressing the broad chest with his other, pulling and palming at hard, eager nipples, until he heard throaty moans, rising in volume and liberally sprinkled with coarse pleas, until Mulder came, semen jetting out onto the bed and his clenching muscles pulling Alex's cock deeper into the hot channel, squeezing him until it almost hurt, until Alex, burying his teeth in the straining cords of Mulder's neck, felt himself spasm and jerk, pouring himself into the other man's still shaking body. Alex's cries trailed off into a soft, moaning sigh as Mulder fell onto his hands and knees, then dropped to his stomach, and Alex sank with him, still sheathed in his heated ass, mouth still working at the back of the sweat-slick neck. They lay like that, spent and panting, until Alex rolled over onto his side, threading his fingers lightly through Mulder's damp hair. Mulder still lay on his stomach, but turned his head to face Alex. They lay regarding each other for a few silent moments until Alex got up, left the room and came back with two damp washcloths. He dropped one gracelessly on Mulder's back and began wiping himself off with the other. Mulder pulled the cloth off his back and turned over, wiping up the sticky residue from his belly and from the bed. He hooked the cloth through the air into a half-full laundry basket next to the door and Alex applauded his shot as he climbed back into the bed.. Mulder smiled at the peaceful look on Alex's face that he knew wasn't there often and was only there now because of him. Alex smiled back, then ground out a yawn that Mulder quickly echoed. The room grew restful and silent as the two men curled around each other, sleep claiming them at almost the same time. "So good with you always, Lisa," Alex whispered sleepily against Mulder's ear, arms still wrapped around the frail body. He roused himself reluctantly, clutching Mulder to him tightly for a few quiet minutes, then kissed the short-cropped head and ran his fingers across the slack face and wet lips. "You remember the game we used to play? Latin and Russian. You were the only person I ever laughed in bed with. God, I loved laughing with you." Alex stood up slowly, leaned over Mulder and kissed his mouth, then turned out the bedside lamp and walked out of the darkened room. He expected Scully to waylay him the moment he stepped out of Mulder's room and so was vaguely comforted when he passed into the hall unmolested. He had no choice but to walk past the lounge--he had to hit the locker room to get his wallet and keys--but he prepared to fend off the little dream-killer before she could work against him anymore. As he approached the lounge, he saw her curled awkwardly asleep on one of the sofas, hair wild, face pale and strained even asleep, clothes rumpled and uncomfortable looking. He stood over her sleeping figure and regarded her coldly as long minutes passed, seeing the traitorous author of his greatest loss instead of the woman who, beyond any reasonable explanation, had become his best friend and comfort. You did this to me, he thought, you took him away before and you're taking him away now. And you'll have Will, you'll always have a part of him, and I've got nothing. He didn't even try to choke back the seething rage that flooded him. Months of checking the anger, months of refusing to let the jealous heat take over him and he still lost. His black thoughts swirled in his sorrow-clouded mind, the helpless fear that Lisa was gone forever taking the shape of an almost-forgotten burn to rip and tear something apart. A small tic began jumping in his sharply clenched jaw and he fisted his hands at his sides. He tried to fight back the urge to wrap his strong fingers around Dana's fragile exposed throat and stop her daintily throbbing pulse. A cold wave swept across the back of his neck as he realized his hands were coming up from his sides and curling towards her anyway, and he stepped back from the sofa with a low snarl. She sat up instantly at the sound and he turned quickly away, walking toward the stairwell door. "Alex?" she asked in a sleepy voice. "Are you okay?" He stopped but didn't turn to face her. "Do you know how easy it would be for me to kill you? I could do it, clean and barehanded, in five seconds and be out of here in less than fifteen." "Is that what you want to do, Alex? Kill me?" she asked quietly. He didn't answer for a long time and then, finally turning to lock stormy forest-green eyes with calm blue, said, "I promised him I would never hurt you." He turned back and walked through the doorway and was gone. Christmas Eve came and then Christmas morning. Scully spent both days with Maggie and Charlie and his family, trying not to worry about Alex and fighting the urge to call and check on him. She'd stayed the night at the hospital after he left, sitting beside Mulder again and wondering if she'd really seen the look of hatred and rage in Alex's normally warm eyes. Of course he was upset, so was she, this wasn't supposed to be how it ended. But they would fix their friendship somehow, god knows they'd managed before. That friendship, hammered out over the past long, trying months, had come to mean a great deal to Scully. Alex understood things about Mulder that no one who wasn't intimately mixed up with the man could comprehend, what mingled pain and pleasure loving Mulder was. The man, in his endless array of moods, could be a thing of soaring joy one minute and a cause of hopeless anger the next. Scully could talk to Alex freely about Mulder, satisfying a need she hadn't realized was there until Alex filled it. She couldn't lose that, not now when she was going to lose Mulder for good. She pushed impatiently away from the dining room table at Maggie's house and went to sit out on the front porch swing in the cool late afternoon air, watching the pale sun, starting to set already at just past 5:00, and tucking her hands into soft leather gloves. Maggie and Yvonne, Charlie's wife, had both commented on her preoccupied air during the course of the long day. She had pacified Yvonne with vague references to work and getting ready for the new semester, but to Maggie, she admitted that she'd taken her mother's words to heart and was trying to let go. She was rocking back and forth with a distant look on her wan face when Charlie came out and sat beside her. They rocked in comfortable silence until she pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and started rooting around for her lighter. At Charlie's upturned eyebrow--so incongruous on a male face--she shrugged sheepishly. He took the lighter from her cool hand and lit the cigarette for her, then pulled one out of the pack and lit it for himself. "Don't tell Yvonne." "I won't if you don't tell Mom," she replied. They smoked in the same easy silence until Charlie said, "Yvonne wanted to know if Will could come back with us for the week. We're going to Canaan Valley for a couple days, to teach Danny and Colleen to ski. They'd love to have Will along." Scully turned her face to her brother, loving him for the gentle concern she saw on the face so like her father's. "And it would be nice for you to have a few days to yourself, huh? Mom says you've had a rough couple of weeks with Fox." "She did?" "Yeah, that you thought maybe he was making some progress, but it didn't happen...something like that." "Well, something like that. Yeah, it's been a rough couple of weeks." "Couple of years is more like it, huh, DK?" he asked sympathetically but without errant pity. She nodded silently, turning away so he wouldn't see the tears that filled her eyes. He touched her hand, then pulled her chin around so she faced him again. "Day, we all think you're a rock, but everybody's got their limits and I think you're about there, aren't you?" Charlie pulled her into an embrace, encircling her with his strong carpenter's arms and stroking the shining hair. "You can cry in front of me, you know, Dana. I won't tell anyone, I promise. But you've got to let it go sometime. I worry about you, about all the shit you're carrying around that never gets unloaded. Gonna get pretty heavy someday, you know. I'd hate to see you get crushed under it all." "That's a great image you're putting in my head there, Charlie Boyo. I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine." "I hate it when you say that." She gave a tired laugh. "I hate saying it sometimes. It's like a reflex, it just comes out." "Why is that? Of all of us, why did you turn out so...cool and collected?" "I don't know. Sometimes I wish I weren't. I want to scream and cry about Mulder, but it just doesn't..." She shrugged. "Never mind. I'm okay. I'm just really, really tired and if you and Yvonne want to take my little monster with you to spend all week cold and falling down, you have my blessing and my thanks." "It's a good thing you never went into sales, DK. You'd suck." He paused for a moment, looking first uncomfortable, then decided. "I want to ask you something else, but I think you might get pissed at me. So just save it till I'm done, okay?" Dana quirked an eyebrow in her turn as she hit her cigarette, then nodded. "I'm only asking you this because I love you dearly and want your happiness more than anything in the world. And I promised Yvonne I'd do it." He breathed out his nose heavily, then plunged ahead. "Do you think maybe you're ready to meet somebody...well, somebody new?" "I'm not sure I'm following you," she said, smiling at his obviousdiscomfort. "Somebody like a guy, somebody to go out with." "You mean like on a date?" she asked with lively amusement. "Yeah, on a date. I don't know how you'd feel about it, but, well, we think you need to see more of the world than Townsend. Live a little." "I see. Does Mom know you're asking me this?" "Not really. But she said you've got a friend, a guy that used to work with Mulder. Is he...anything special? You know what I mean, right?" Dana laughed in a teary sort of way, then shook her head adamantly. "If you mean Alex, yes, he's a friend, but no, he's nothing special." "Well, it might not be a bad idea to find someone special, huh? I know how you felt about Mulder, sis, it was plain to all of us years ago. But...well, it's been almost two years and...I don't think it'd be a bad thing to get out there, maybe find someone to give you a little of what you had with Mulder." "That's never going to happen, Charlie. Mulder was unique." "I know. And if I lost Yvonne, the very idea of someone else would make me sick. But I know Yvonne wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my life sitting around missing her. She'd come back and kick my ass with her halo and harp if I did that." He pulled her even closer and plopped a noisy kiss on Dana's bright hair. "I think you're a wonderful, exciting, fun person and you should have someone doting on you and treating you like a princess. And I'm willing to go prince-hunting for you, if that's something you want." "Charlie, how come Bill can't be like you?" She returned his kiss and scruffed his beard, a new addition since she'd last seen him and she'd been teasing him mercilessly about it all day. "You're such a good guy. I'll think about what you said, but it's still a little soon. Maybe in a few months, when school's out. I was thinking the other day about taking a trip after Winter term..." "I hear Daytona Beach is pretty hopping during spring break." "Very funny. Although I would go somewhere warm." "Not Russia this time?" She laughed again. "Definitely not." They stood up together and, arms entwined, went back into the warm house. The three grandchildren were playing a board game with Maggie and Yvonne and Charlie demanded to join in. Dana sat on the couch near the fireplace, watching Will's animated face, bright with pleasure in the company of his family. She smiled peacefully and turned to face the weaving flames, letting her thoughts drift back to Alex and to what he might be doing today. She decided, impulsively, that if Will would be going home with Charlie's family, she could head out to Townsend tonight and, if her nerve held up, she would stop at Alex's house and check on him. She got to Townsend by 9:00 that night. Most family members had stopped by earlier in the day and the halls were unusually silent as she sat in Mulder's room, telling him about the gifts Will had received and how excited he was to be going to Uncle Charlie's. "So don't worry when you don't see him. Charlie and Yvonne are taking all three kids to Canaan Valley to ski. They're at the perfect age for it. Everyone sends you a Merry Christmas. Colleen remembers you still, as young as she was last time she saw you." Dana laughed at a sudden memory of her niece, two years old and just starting to speak, calling Mulder 'Fucks' quite clearly at a formal Thanksgiving dinner. Of the boisterous laughter that had rippled across the table after a moment's stunned silence, at Bill's red-faced, blustery outrage and Maggie, tears of mirth streaming from her blue eyes, telling Bill to lighten up. "Do you remember Colleen calling you that, Babe? God, we laughed so hard. I loved that, that you could laugh with my family. That they made you one of us." She picked up his hand and kissed it, then stood up. "Well, if I'm going to check on our wayward companion, I'd better go." She kissed his cheek softly, then stroked it with her fingertip. "I'll be back tomorrow or Thursday. I'm going to make sure Alex isn't tossing back whiskey like it's lemonade." His hand clenched on the bedcovers and Dana smiled wistfully at the thought that a week ago that motion would have sent her running for the EEG readout tape and ordering up another MRI. She shook her head and lay his stiff hand across his chest, then left the room. The house was dark as she pulled up to the curb. She checked her watch - 9:40. Not too late, she decided and shut off the engine and climbed out of the car. She walked briskly up the front walk and rang the doorbell, hearing the chime echo through the small house. She could see dim lights through the front door, but couldn't hear movement inside and she wondered if maybe Alex was sleeping. As she debated ringing the bell again, she saw his shadowed figure cross the hallway and she knocked sharply on the door to catch his attention. The porch light snapped on and he stood at the door for several long moments, not opening it or speaking to her, until she was tempted to turn around and leave. He opened the door at last, however, and leaned against the jamb, his coldly piercing stare unnerving her a bit. He didn't open the screen door, just stood with his bloodshot eyes on her, his unshaven face and lank hair giving witness, along with the smell of stale cigarettes and a body steeped in whiskey, to his mood. "Can I come in?" she finally asked, willing her voice to remain steady. He still said nothing, just continued with the icy, appraising stare until, with his most condescending bow and smirk, he stepped aside to allow her to enter. As he straightened up, her eye was instantly drawn to the band of dried blood crusting the bottom hem of his white shirt where it met the waistband of his sweats. She stopped cold and turned to face him squarely. "Alex, there's blood on your shirt. What happened?" She waited to see if he would meet her eye and, when he did, reached for his shirt, only to have her hand slapped away hard enough to sting. "Nothing," he snapped and walked around her, heading back to the kitchen. "Nothing?" she said incredulously as she followed in the wake of the whiskey smell wafting behind him. "Go home, Scully. Go make sure Will's not wasting his precious childhood hoping Santa's gonna bring his daddy home." "Alex, are you all right? Are you hurt?" He laughed, not with anything resembling real mirth, but with a bitter harshness tearing from his throat. "That's a pretty stupid question, don't you think, Scully?" "Alex..." "Go home. I don't want you here." He walked through the kitchen into the family room and Dana still followed, watching as he threw himself down on the couch and picked up a half-full glass of whiskey from the coffee table. She settled herself gingerly on the table and watched with concerned eyes as he drained the glass, then exchanged it for a cigarette and lighter. He leaned back, closing his eyes and Scully wasn't sure if he was actively ignoring her or really wasn't aware that she was still there. When he lay his arm above his head and his t-shirt rode up, exposing his stomach and the jagged gash that marred the muscled surface, she didn't bother to stifle her surprised gasp at the sight of the ugly wound. He turned an irritated face to her, but, seeing where her eye was held, hastily pulled his shirt down to cover the lacerated flesh. "Jesus, Alex, what the hell did you do?" she asked. "Leave me alone." He sat up and scratched at his roughly whiskered face, then got up and walked over to the fireplace. He tossed his cigarette on top of the pile of kindling and papers that lay in the grate, then knelt down to blow the tinder into flame. He watched them grow, fixing his moody eyes on the brightness until he felt her come to stand behind him. "Alex," she said softly, "let me look at that cut. I'm your friend and I'm worried about you..." He turned angrily to face her. "My friend? You're out of your fucking mind. Friends like you I don't need." "Fine, then as a doctor, can I please make sure you're not going to die from a staph infection?" "Like I care anymore. Listen, go home, you don't want to be anywhere near me right now, I can promise you that." "Why? You gonna try to kill me?" she asked with a sneering challenge. His hand went to her throat almost automatically and he squeezed enough to make sure he had her full attention. "Dana, if you stay here ugly and unpleasant things might begin to happen to you." His voice was glacial, the once-gentle eyes glittering like icy obsidian and the person in front of her was Krycek, not her friend. "Go ahead. Like I care anymore, either." She met his frigid gaze with an eerie stillness to her features. He shook her loose, then turned back to face the fire. "Why are you still here? Aren't you afraid of me?" She stepped closer to him and put her hands on his rigid shoulders. Her voice, when she spoke, was full of the warmth she carried for Alex and not the hatred she sometimes still felt for Krycek. "I'm not afraid of much anymore, Alex. And if you promised your Lisa you wouldn't hurt me, than I'm safe from you for the rest of my life." She pulled on the stiff shoulders until he reluctantly turned to face her again and met the brittle eyes squarely. "Aren't I? You couldn't break a promise to him anymore than I could." He shook his head once and stepped around her to return to his position on the couch. He refilled his glass and began to recline, but jostled the glass enough to slosh the liquor onto his belly, the alcohol soaking through his shirt and burning into the torn flesh. "Goddamit!" he bellowed, hurling the glass across the room and kicking the table away from him, then jumping up from the couch and stomping into the kitchen. Dana picked up the bottle before it could empty itself on the floor, then grabbed hers and Alex's cigarettes before following him into the other room. He was in the bathroom off the breezeway, shirt stripped off, holding a wet towel against the nasty looking wound. She watched him wince at the friction of the cloth against the inflamed skin and said with a sardonic smile, "Well, that should keep it from getting too badly infected." He looked at her in disbelief. Nobody had ever baited him like this and lived to tell about it. "God, you are one cold bitch." "So I hear. Are you going to let me look at that now?" She set the things she was carrying on the table and joined him in the tiny bathroom, pulling the towel away, noticing the blood that had seeped onto it. "When did this happen?" "I'm not really sure. Sometime between Sunday and today. ...Is it still Monday?" "Nope. Tuesday. You been drinking all day?" He snorted out a laugh as she bent to look more closely at his injury. "I've been drinking for two days. Tuesday, two days, whatever." He trailed off with another drunken laugh and she looked up at him quizzically before returning to her assessment of the mess around his navel. "You got a first aid kit around here somewhere?" she asked as she straightened up and began washing her hands. "In the other bathroom, under the sink. What are you going to do, bleed me?" "Not this time. It's not as deep as I thought it was. A good clean up and Neosporin should take care of it." She led him gently to the kitchen and pushed him into a chair before turning to a cabinet to pull down fresh glasses. When she turned back he was resting his head on his crossed arms and staring glumly at nothing. She set the glasses down and poured him another drink, then left the kitchen. He listened to the sounds of rummaging in the bathroom and then the linen closet, listlessly sliding the glass back and forth in front of his bleary eyes. He heard her come back into the room but couldn't dredge up the energy to look up as she stood before him. "Come on, I need you over here," she said as she tugged on his knee to turn him away from the table. "You need to stand up, too. I can't get at it if you're sitting." He shoved away from the table and stood up without saying anything. Picking up the full glass, he drained most of it as she began dabbing at the mangled skin with a soapy washcloth. She blew her hair out of her eyes impatiently before looking up at him. "Can you move your pants out of the way? I can't get at all of it with them there." "Are you asking me to drop my drawers, Scully?" he asked with another smirk. "Just move them down a few inches, okay?" she snapped back with a flushed face. He gave a short laugh as he shoved the band of his sweats and shorts down until they hung low enough on his hips to expose his belly. She bit her lip as she realized the full extent of the wound, examining the reddened, inflamed skin and deciding to call in a penicillin script first thing in the morning. She finished cleaning the area with the soapy cloth, then pulled a tube of antibiotic cream from the box and began working it into the ripped flesh. The kitchen grew silent as she worked carefully, trying not to reopen the wound and trying to minimize his discomfort, although, she thought in some disgust, it'd be amazing if he felt anything she was doing anyway. After a few quiet minutes, she said distractedly, without looking up from her work. "Whatever the hell you did, you did it well." She finally began pulling the wound closed with butterfly bandages, but frowned when the muscles surrounding the gash moved jerkily. She looked up at him and saw his face contorted as he struggled to hold in laughter. "What the hell are you laughing at?" she asked huffily. "And stop moving, you'll undo the bandages." She turned back to his stomach, moving her head closer to give a final once-over to her work. At that, he stopped trying to hold back the peals of laughter and they echoed in the kitchen as he gave full vent to his amusement. She sat back on her heels and gave him a stony glare until he calmed somewhat. "What was that all about?" "That's just not an angle I ever thought I'd see you from," he sputtered out through his last giggles. She looked up at him in confusion until it dawned on her that she was on her knees in front of him, her eyes level with his belly, so that made her mouth level with his... She smacked his thigh in embarrassed irritation, then stood up hastily. Alex roared with laughter again at her blush, then flung himself back into his chair and filled both glasses with the rescued whiskey, pushing one to the empty seat across from him in silent invitation. She sat down huffily and picked up the glass, taking a healthy swallow and resting her feet on the last vacant chair. After a few silent minutes, she set her now-empty glass down and settled a patiently inquisitive gaze on him. "What?" he finally asked. "You gonna tell me what happened?" "Nope." "Come on, Alex. I'm really worried about you," she said earnestly and gently. "It looks...Alex, did you cut yourself? On purpose?" He drained off the last of his whiskey and refilled both their glasses before shrugging and answering with a crooked smile. "Not with a knife or anything really sharp." She sucked in a shocked breath and tried to keep her voice even. "Is this something you do a lot, Alex? Hurt yourself deliberately?" "Put the brakes on the mental health assessment, Scully. I wasn't trying to rip half my stomach off." "Then tell me what happened," she said before taking another drink. "And no bullshit, Alex. I'm really worried about you." "Don't be. I'm not." At her sorrowful expression, he smirked a bit, then relented. "Fine. I had a ring on and I got pissed off and ripped it out. And some of my navel came out with it. Happy now?" he ended with another smirk and a lifted eyebrow. "A navel ring? Is that the truth?" "Yes, it's the truth. You think I care enough to spend time making shit up?" "Go get the ring and let me look at it." "What for?" "If it was cheap metal, if it had copper or tin in it, you're going to be in great shape for tetanus. When was your last shot, anyway?" "When I got busted last time. You go to jail, you get a tetanus shot. It's very creepy, like they expect you to get cut up in prison." Alex's voice was slurring more and more and Scully decided it was probably for the best if he couldn't feel the freshly irritated wound. "Okay, you probably don't need a booster, then. But I'm going to get you some antibiotics tomorrow and you better take them or that's going to be hellishly painful. It's also going to scar if you don't keep the Neosporin on it." "Yes, Doctor," he snipped around his glass before emptying it again and leaving the kitchen. She couldn't keep track anymore of how many glasses he'd poured down since her arrival and she marveled at his alcohol tolerance while she waited for him to come back. He was gone longer than she expected and she was beginning to worry when she realized she'd been unconsciously hearing the shower running. She finished her drink and had just started on another when he came back into the kitchen. "Here," he said brusquely, tossing a bit of twisted silver metal in front of her and resuming both his seat and his glass. He shrugged into a fresh shirt and smoothed down his wet hair while she examined the ring. "Nice piece. Did you make it?" she asked as she peered inside to see if there were markings to tell the purity, but found instead a familiar Cyrillic word. She raised her eyes to meet Alex's. "This was Mulder's ring?" "It was one of them. I gave it to him for his birthday." She looked at the piece, a flutter rising in her stomach as she pictured Alex fixing the shiny gift to Mulder's chest. She set the ring down abruptly and shook herself almost imperceptibly. "If it was his, you shouldn't have been wearing it. You're lucky you didn't get infected before," she admonished him clinically, then picked up her glass and tossed down the remaining whiskey. Alex looked at her in surprise that he quickly masked by draining his own. "I think," Dana said matter-of-factly, "that you and I should get rip-roaring drunk tonight." She filled both their glasses again before saluting him and drinking half of the whiskey down. "This crappy world is getting the better of both of us and I'm tired of it." "I'm already drunk. But feel free to join me. I'd get a kick out of it and I could use another laugh." He watched her empty her glass and shiver as the liquor burned a path to her stomach. "You know, if you knock it back like that without being used to it, you're going to puke it right back up. And I'm not gonna clean it up." "No, I won't. I have great Irish genes. I've never puked from booze in my life." He snorted a laugh into his own glass. "That figures." "Why does it figure?" "Because it would mean you'd lost control and you would never do that, oh my, my, no, no, no." "Was that a snide remark, then?" "Of course it was." "You know, Alex, this is hurting me, too." "Yeah, I can tell by the way you're crying in your beer." "Just because I'm not screaming and beating my breast doesn't mean I'm not feeling." "But you are giving up." "I'm conceding defeat. There's a difference." "Bullshit. Quitting is quitting." He got up from the table abruptly, grabbing the bottle and their forgotten cigarettes and headed back to the family room. She followed slowly, finding him sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, and sat down near him with her arms hugging her knees. She kept her eyes on the fire and started speaking in a soft, wistful voice. "I wish sometimes I could be like you, Alex. So passionate and fiery. I can't, I've never known how to let loose like that. I want to be able to scream and cry and do the whole raging King Lear thing. What I have in my heart for Mulder deserves that." She turned her head from the flames to look at Alex, whose solemn eyes were fixed on her. "The other day, when you cried so hard, and then later, when I woke up and you were standing there, so full of hatred and anger, I wondered if maybe you love him more than I do. All I have to show for my grief is this stupid lump that's been in my throat for two years. You hate better than I do, anyway, since I can barely remember how I used to feel about you and you were ready to crush my throat Sunday night." She turned back to the fire, resting her head on her knees and sighed. "I wish you didn't hate me, Alex. I don't want to lose you, too." He spoke quietly as well, a small part of him sober enough to find it odd that, as drunk as they both were, this was the calmest discussion about Mulder they'd had recently. "I don't hate you, Dana. Not really. I just hate what's happening. Not happening, whatever." He shrugged and said, "I hate losing him all over again." She tipped her head to face him again and answered, "I wish it was different, Alex, I really, really do, but it's not. And, when...when this ends, we're going to need each other. You're the only person who understands what loving him was like." "Don't say things like that," he hissed, but his anger had cooled and it came out as a plea. "I don't want to, Alex, but it's true. It's the ugly, shitty truth, that's the way it's going to be. I can't change it as much as I want to and you can't change it no matter how hard you try. And I know you tried, Alex, I could see you ready to sweat blood to make this work." He stood up and braced his hands against the mantel, saying fiercely, "It was the one thing I could have given him, the one thing I could have done for him. I wanted there to be one goddamn thing that was mine." After a moment he felt Dana come to stand behind him, her arms snaking around his waist as she rested her head against his back. "You gave him so much, Alex, don't ever think you didn't. You gave him his life when he was ready to throw it away, didn't you? You made him stay. And you gave him your love. You don't love or trust easily and yet you gave all that to him. How many people in Mulder's life ever let him have that, without questions or conditions or pain? Not his parents, not even me. Only you, Alex." She tightened her arms around him and felt words rumbling in his chest. "He didn't know," he said dully, then lay his head on his arms. "I never told him." "Oh, Alex, he knew. I'm sure he knew," she whispered against his shoulder. "Mulder wasn't stupid, he had to have known." She squeezed him still tighter and he felt the familiar sting of tears in his exhausted eyes. He slammed his hands against the wooden mantel, hating the fact that he could still feel anything, even after all the whiskey he'd poured down his throat. The feel of Dana's arms around his waist rang a soft bell in his wooly brain and he thought to himself that if he had to feel anything, it was going to be something good for a change. He turned to face her, his eyes red-rimmed and wet, the green heightened by the shine of his tears. "What was it like, hearing him say he loved you?" When she met Alex's eyes, Dana saw a hungry desolation there that made her heart give a quick, sharp extra beat. It had been a very long time since she'd seen a look like that, and that had been in a pair of smoky, hazel eyes. She pulled away from him in confusion. "I don't know what you mean, Alex..." "When he told you he loved you, wanted you. I want to know what it was like to have him love you." His hand drifted up to her face and stroked her whiskey-flushed cheek carefully. "Did he touch you like this when he said it?" Dana wondered dimly if she was so drunk she was imagining the heat in the green eyes and the tremor in the satiny voice. One small, sober brain cell made an alarmed noise as Alex's other hand came up to cup her face and his eyes darkened. I should say something, she thought. I should tell him his face is flushed and his eyes are turning black and his hands are shaking. Instead, her hand crept up to his, lacing their fingers for a moment before she released his hand to put her own to his face in turn and stroke his rough-whiskered cheek. He turned into her palm, rubbing instinctively and felt her shiver slightly. He dropped his hand from her face quickly and began to turn away with a muttered curse, but she grabbed him, pulling his hand into hers and rubbing her own cheek against it. Too long without feeling like this, she thought, feeling alive and awake, with Alex's warm skin raising once-familiar tingles in her own. She thought of the months behind them, the work and the worry and the tears and decided in a moment that tonight was not going to be about losing and hurting. "It felt like this," she whispered and pressed a gentle kiss into his palm before returning it to her cheek. He closed his eyes and released a shaking breath before letting his hands slide up through her tousled red curls and cup around her delicate skull, tipping her face up to his and pulling their mouths together, the soft friction of lip on lip lasting until an indistinct groan vibrated against Alex's mouth and he felt a first shy touch of her tongue. He met it with his own and felt her arms tighten around his waist, fingers clenching reflexively in the fabric of his shirt. His own arms slid down from her head to wrap around her slight body and he drew her closer to him, hungry and eagerly searching as they mapped each other's mouths. Dizzying moments passed until a sudden easing of the pressure in her back made her open her eyes, breaking off her grasp on Alex's back, to find herself at eye level with him and she realized he had lifted her against him while she was preoccupied with tasting the back of his throat. The green eyes still burned but a palpable uncertainty lay behind their fervour. He opened his mouth against hers to say something, but she slipped her hand between their almost-joined lips and shook her head. "No stupid questions, Alex." She moved her hand to the back of his head, wrapping the dark strands around her fingers as she pulled him into another kiss. He still held her up, eliminating the discomfort of their height difference and, at a strong lick against the roof of his mouth, he pulled her roughly against him, feeling her small body flinch at the unconscious thrust of his hips and the long-missed shock of hardness and heat pressing into her belly. A throaty whisper of his name swept away the moment's doubt her fleeting recoil gave him and when she echoed his thrust with one of her own, her name slipped from him as well, coupled with a shaky question in defiance of her order. "Dana, is this a good idea?" he asked, his lips pressed nearly motionless against hers, the words sounding like a poor attempt at ventriloquism. She laughed against him and answered back, "I think this is a great idea. This is something we both need." She began sucking his lower lip into her mouth, trying to cajole his tongue into playing with hers again, but he insisted on asking another question. "You sure? It's not a shitload of whiskey and grief, is it?" "No," she answered calmly, finally pulling away from his mouth to speak clearly. He made a movement to lower her, but she quickly wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck and shook her head emphatically. "This is you and me, tonight, being somewhat happier together instead of being miserable alone." He tried to keep his voice steady as he answered her. "Somewhat happier with both of us thinking of someone else? That's a little twisted, don't you think?" She laughed again. "No more so than the idea of you and me working together in the first place." She stopped laughing at the abashed look on his face and pulled his head to rest against hers. "Forget it, Alex. Forget about the hospital and comas and regrets and lost chances. Okay?" She kissed his forehead, then his absurdly pretty nose and his voluptuous mouth, and felt him finally sigh and open his mouth to her gently searching tongue. The room grew silent as they kissed for long, luscious minutes, staying gentle and curious, hands smoothing backs and stroking hair and passion slowly waking up. He wrapped his arms around her dainty waist and lifted her a bit higher, feeling a jolt in his cock at the soft swish of her sweatered breasts against his chest. He let out a brief groan and she pulled away from his kiss, mild concern mingling with languid pleasure in her eyes. "Am I getting heavy?" she asked mutedly and raised her eyebrow at his gentle laugh. He shook his head and squeezed her against him again. "You're so tiny," he said in a soft, hoarse voice. "I think I can get my arms around you twice." She laughed with him before pulling him into another easy kiss, this time letting her lips trail over his exotic jaw line to his vaguely pointed ears. Her hands strayed under his t-shirt, stroking the supple skin of his back and wandering down to the waistband of his sweats. She tugged the elastic playfully, then let it snap against his back and the sound, coupled with the smack against his skin, drew a brief jump from him. She laughed again, then let out an undignified whoop when, with a nasty, teasing grin, he dropped her to the floor suddenly, her shaky balance giving out and leaving her sprawled against him. Her crotch pressed into his thigh, his hardened cock branded her hip and the playful, languorous pace of before incinerated at the intimate contact. He pulled her closer still and ground himself against her hip, gratified by her instant response, feeling the heat between her legs even through her jeans and his sweats. Their mouths met again, but the tender exploration was gone, replaced by ravening greed. Somehow, still joined at the mouth, they moved upright and he reluctantly backed away from her long enough to take her hand and tug her with him as he made his way across the room, grabbing the whiskey in passing and heading down the hallway to his bedroom. He stood aside to let her enter, but she stayed in the doorway, looking around the room. He felt a small wave of apprehension start in his stomach, wondering if she was changing her mind after all and trying to convince himself it was probably for the best. "Just looking, Alex" she said over her shoulder as she finally moved out of the doorway. "See anything interesting?" he asked, leaning against the door frame and taking a drink from the bottle. She sat down on the neatly made bed, leaned back on her elbows and said, eyeing him lasciviously, "A thing or two maybe." He walked into the room, set the bottle on a battered chest that was serving as a night stand and stood at the side of the bed, still regarding her with a serious expression. "I'm not going to change my mind, if that's what the concerned face is for," she said lightly. "Well, I am wondering if you aren't going to wake up with a hangover heavily laced with regret." She sat up and grabbed his hands, pulling him down to sit beside her. "Do you expect every person you get into bed with to wake up with regrets?" He shrugged. "My experience, for the most part, has been that people in my bed usually have some ulterior motive. Occupational hazard." She put her arms around his waist and curled her head on his shoulder. "I don't have any motives, Alex. I just want you." He kissed her again, the urgency from before quickly reigniting. She left one hand around his waist and slid the other under his t-shirt, finding the bandages on his stomach and flicking at them idly before resting her palm against the quivering muscles of his abdomen. His shaky groan tickled her mouth and she pulled away to find him almost panting, his eyes screwed tightly shut. "Alex? Did that hurt?" He shook his head briefly, eyes still closed and said, "Just the opposite, actually. Don't linger in that spot too long unless you want this to be over in about three minutes." She looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled in comprehension. "Sensitive spot?" she asked as her fingers drifted innocently across his belly. "Um hmm." "Is that why you wear a ring in your navel? Because it's sensitive?" "Um hmm." "Should we talk about this later, maybe?" "That would be great." He finally managed to grit complete words out even as her touch became bolder, flitting below the wounded area and toying with the threads of fine hair she found. She moved back up his chest, sliding his shirt higher, then with an impish smile, pulled it quickly and roughly off him, enjoying his gasp of surprise and the convulsive clenching of his hands into tight fists. His eyes came open then and he saw her thoughtfully staring at him, her head tilted to the left and her lower lip tucked under her top teeth. She met his gaze after some moments of silent appraisal and he felt a flush of heat creep up his chest and into his face at the secretive smile of anticipation that bloomed across her face. "Beautiful," she whispered. She leaned into him, latching onto his mouth again and he took the opportunity to lay back, bringing her down with him. She kissed and licked down the column of his throat and rolled to her side slightly so she could work her way across his chest and shoulders. Alex tugged on her sweater and nudged her with the shoulder she was teething on to get her to look at him. He nodded down at the silk sweater clutched in his hand and raised his eyebrow at her. She understood the unspoken request and sat up briefly to pull the sweater over her head, then, after a moment's consideration, unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor as well before resuming her place aslant his chest. "Now we're even," he muttered just before one hand swept across the swell of her breast and the other pulled her back into his kiss. Something unintelligible spoke against her mouth and he rolled them so they faced each other, never releasing her breast or her tongue. He moved his other hand down to where her back swelled into the slope of her butt and pressed her against his swollen flesh, showing her what she'd done to him. The pressure of her tongue as it moved through his mouth increased at the molten contact between their bodies and he felt her lips trying to make words, despite being wide open and sealed to his own. She met his thrusting hips with her own, the slow rhythm soon building into something quick and fierce. Without any clear recollection of how it happened, Alex found himself lying over her, his sweatpants gone, Dana's jeans at her ankles, panties at her knees and both their hands struggling to finish removing everything that got between them. The last of her clothes fell to the floor and Dana immediately wrapped her legs around Alex's waist and pulled him down against her damp mound. He sucked in a harsh breath at the intimate contact and thrust his heavy, swollen prick against her softly crinkled curls. "Last chance to back out," he ground out through a clenched jaw as her hand slipped down to tease the cleft of his ass. "Pass," she answered before his mouth moved over hers again. He kneed her legs apart smoothly, taking hold of his cock and readying himself, but suddenly found her tiny hand pushing his aside, wrapping her deft fingers around his straining member and guiding him to where she was open and sodden and eager. He slid into her tight, slick heat, but she kept her hand between them, lightly trailing her fingers across his stomach and making him squirm deeper into her body. "Christ, Dana..." he panted against her neck, fighting to move slowly. She removed her hand from its rapidly cramping position as she began to piston against him, urging him silently for more, harder, faster. A particularly vigorous upswing by her coincided with a harsh thrust by him when her hand slid around his thigh to tease his balls and she whined softly and bucked against him harder. Alex tried to back off, but her legs clamped around him and her voice rasped in his ear. "No, Alex, it's good ... don't you dare stop...just like...that...again." His brain managed to process her words and he strengthened his drives into her, finally letting himself revel in the ever-growing heat in his gut until he was slamming into her grasping cunt and muttering mingled curses and endearments in her ear. Each deeper stroke was pulling Dana with him, the long-untouched knot in her belly unraveling and spreading warm waves of increasing pleasure through her. Alex's smooth voice, tangling with the guttural words he was groaning out, stoked an unfamiliar set of responses in her, adding to the illicitly thrilling idea that the cock moving within her had once moved inside Mulder the same way. Images that had beset her since Alex's revelation, of he and Mulder entwined the way she and Alex now were, suddenly sprang into her mind, sending another surge of arousal circling out through her limbs and accelerating the speed of her thrusting hips against his. Alex felt her response flare and propped himself on his elbows, giving her the leverage she was reaching for. Her clutching legs rose higher on his back until they encircled his shoulders and she opened her eyes and gasped out his name in approval of the deeper angle. He looked down at her, wondering if she looked like this, so wanton and greedy, when Mulder was the one embedded so deeply in her deceptive body, looking so fragile and breakable but taking every punishing thrust he gave her and returning those delicious, fisting grips. The thought of his Lisa, so passive and receptive, plunging madly into this same small bit of a woman flitted through his hazy mind and sent an incendiary jolt through his tightly coiled gut. He sped up still more, Dana meeting him thrust for thrust, the two of them pounding against each other, belly to belly and face to face. And then, far sooner than she expected, Dana was writhing and wailing against Alex, abandoned in the trembling, flying, sparking wash of her climax. Her strong hands dug into his back and his ass, clawing marks into them that slammed him up another level of sensation and, at the first gripping wave of her orgasm, pushed him past reason. He drove into her, the only things left in the world the feel of the pulsing walls of her cunt rippling along his swelling cock and the sound of her husky voice crying his name. A groan grew from deep behind his balls and ripped from his throat as his body began to shudder, each spasm releasing and grabbing him again and again, feeling as if every seed in his body was flooding into her burning, clenching tunnel. The buzzing in Alex's ears faded, replaced by the airy sound of Dana's shaky panting against his neck. He sprawled on top of her until his trembling slowed, finally rolling bonelessly to his side. She turned with him, letting her hand come to rest on his sweat-sheened chest. Their breath still came heavily, his rustling through her tangled hair, hers chilling the damp skin her hand lay on. When she could finally speak without gasping, she tilted her face up to his, kissed the underside of his chin and husked out her words with an indolent smile. "That was fun." He snorted out a light laugh. "Fun, huh? Remind me to get you a thesaurus one of these days." He put his hands under her arms and hauled her up so they were face to face again, rubbing her nose with his before kissing her soundly on the mouth. END BOOK II The Latin and Russian phrases were lifted out of context from two very perverse books, "How to Abuse, Insinuate and Insult in Classical Latin" and "Dermo--the Russian Tolstoy Never Used." Hopefully, the comic effect will make up for any gross errors on my part in the translations. If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Liz OBrien
11357997	Wang Yang	{ "Archive Warning": "Rape/Non-Con", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "中文-普通话國語", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by AkaharaRinko", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-30T00:00:00", "words": "3,224", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Diarmuid Ua Duibhne/Gilgamesh \| Lancer/Gilgamesh (Fate)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Fate/Zero, Fate/Grand Order", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	最近迦勒底迎来了一位新的英灵，据说是御主在某个活动中使用了大量的圣晶石召唤而来的。“哈哈哈哈哈……”光是听这豪爽的笑声就知道来的是谁了。“啊，是那个讨人厌的我呢。”幼吉尔如此嫌弃道。而作为御主的藤丸立香似乎很开心……？。……迪卢木多在洗过澡后意外地听见了自己房间门铃响的声音。“是谁？”他问道，一边擦着湿漉漉的头发。“是本王，开门。”门外传来熟悉的声音。吉尔伽美什？迪卢木多心想，今天他不是和御子殿下去收集种火了吗？这么早吗……一边疑惑一边开了门，门外站的人却让他更加意外——那是模糊记忆中曾经遇到的那位Archer，作为Archer的吉尔伽美什。“你……”迪卢木多惊讶于这个吉尔伽美什居然不是Caster吉尔伽美什。“什么语气，不欢迎本王的到来么？”门外的人口气高傲，并没有得到许可就进来了，而且他本人也不打算征求迪卢木多的意见，“听那个小女孩说你跟另一个我关系很好？”“呃……算是吧。”迪卢木多有点尴尬，虽然他和另一位吉尔伽美什是恋人关系，但是从来未提起过。“那么……”这位吉尔伽美什捏住了还带着些湿气的下巴，“本王的话也可以的咯……？”迪卢木多窘迫地避开了目线接触，结结巴巴地说：“那个……请不要……”还没等他说完，吉尔伽美什就将他按倒在一边的床上，手也伸到半敞的浴衣里乱摸。“当然是可以的吧，嘁，明明就是一样的脸和一样的声音。”当然两个人是不同的啊！迪卢木多内心大喊，性格好差劲啊！“不准反抗本王，杂种！”王低声警告，“你这是为了那个人么？真是可笑。”“您也明白，两个人是不同的吧？”迪卢木多反问。“是又如何？”熟悉而陌生的脸庞上露出了残忍的表情，“你一样都是英雄王吉尔伽美什的东西吧？”接着吉尔伽美什咬向了那张准备反驳他的嘴。迪卢木多被粗暴地吻着，和贤王不同，暴君的吻充满侵略性，唇舌一鼓作气攻城略地。那双一样好看的红玉髓一样的眼眸挑衅地看着他，完全与自己熟悉的温柔的眼神不一样。迪卢木多想要抵抗，可是他实在无法把这张脸和那位贤王分开，推拒的手到一半总是终止。这位吉尔伽美什得意地笑了，将他的耳垂含入嘴中逗弄，听他起伏的呼吸声和喉间忍不住泄出的细碎呻吟。迪卢木多不是没有和那个人玩过这样的小情趣，反而是这时候想起那些事显得更加羞耻。我就不应该对吉尔伽美什这个物种抱有任何期待！迪卢木多悲催地想。不过，年幼的那位可以是个例外。似乎是他的许愿应验了一般，在Archer对他胡作非为的时候，Caster推门进来了。迪卢木多刚好能看见贤王陛下脸色变青然后又变得愉悦起来，他不得不收回刚才的想法——本质是“吉尔伽美什”的贤王说不定根本就没有救自己于水火的意思。“谁允许你对本王的东西出手的？”Caster的质问低着一种轻松的语调，不像是在发怒而是调侃。“一副被抢了玩具的孩子的样子呢。”Archer反唇相讥。“呵，”Caster挤上那张仅供一人使用的床，“这个玩具，恰好是我比较中意的。”迪卢木多看着两个恶趣味的人，感觉事态如此发展下去会变得无法控制，挣扎着起了身，却被制止。“啊，本王改变主意了。”Caster抛出一个危险的笑容，“呐，Archer，这家伙迷乱的表情实在是最顶级的。”迪卢木多还没有反应过来，就被Archer抓住了双手。Caster则解下自己的头纱将他的眼睛蒙了起来。“您要做什么？！”迪卢木多气愤地问。“让我可爱的玩具不再担惊受怕呀。”Caster开着恶劣的玩笑，两人都笑起来。于是迪卢木多也不知道为什么会变成这样，突然被两个吉尔伽美什一起压在床上蹂躏什么的。幸好小的那个不在，少儿不宜，少儿不宜呀。隔着薄纱并看不清什么，因此触感尤其敏感。两边的乳头被分别含住，以不同的方式舔弄啃咬着，酥麻的快感在脑海里乱窜，呻吟卡在嘴边。“看起来这家伙很享受呢。都勃起了。”Archer说，迪卢木多的左乳被他吸吮得充血，他的手向下挑开那件浴衣，双腿之间的器官已经是半勃的状态了。Caster见状，抬起迪卢木多的右腿，俯下身去含住他的性器。“呃……别……”迪卢木多的脸通红，“放开我……啊……”Archer也没有闲着，他将那张抗议的嘴吻住，牙齿轻轻咬着饱满的下唇，将它染上浅粉色。迪卢木多能感觉到这是Archer，他喜欢那位贤王更为温柔的吻，但是他此时无法拒绝。略带侵略性的吻，略带压倒性的吻，仿佛是被热砂包围，危险又炽热。肉茎已经完全勃起，后穴也分泌了黏液，看起来期待进入的样子。一节手指探了进去，然后是一根、两根，最后两位王的三根手指一起在穴道里抽插。贤王拉开床头的一个抽屉，熟门熟路地找到那支润滑液，涂了些在手指上，再次侵入那个小穴。迪卢木多被在他身体里的两人惹怒了，但是前端被照顾得快感连连，后穴适应了一会儿后也开始收缩吸吮着手指。“呜啊……”他连忙捂住嘴，这呻吟实在是色情得他害羞，“差不多该结束闹剧了，两位……王啊！”两位王似乎是应允了他的请求，手指退出了他的后穴，润滑液还是什么的液体勾连出一道银丝，显得淫糜色情。迪卢木多松了口气，但是他潜意识里面认为事情并不简单。“来，迪卢木多，”一个声音对他说，他晃神间分不清究竟是Archer还是Caster，于是愣愣地按照指示做了，“自己坐上来。”一双手扶着他的腰，引导着他慢慢坐下。并不算很充分扩张过的小穴一点点吞入龟头，被撑开的感觉有点痛，但是那双手不允许他逃，压着他的细腰窄臀往下坐。当完全吞入那根巨物的时候，迪卢木多的额头已经出了一层薄汗，眼角溢出的泪水也把纱巾浸湿了，看起来更加惹人怜爱。“啊啊……！别、突然动……哈啊！”身下人毫不讲理地开始挺动腰胯，犹如一匹没有缰绳和马鞍的野马，将上面不善骑乘的骑士颠得快要掉下去。迪卢木多的呻吟变得断断续续，穴道被插得疼痛发麻，泪水忍不住一直飙出来。“不要……停、停下……求您了！”他颤抖着嘴唇向Archer求饶。“你这样子真是，和平时不一样呢。”Archer这么说着，身下的侵犯却没有减轻丝毫。迪卢木多只得一手撑着床，一手勾着Caster的脖子，祈求他能为自己求情。“我说，”Caster出声道，“谁允许你这么对我的迪卢木多？”贤王陛下有点生气，即使是自己也会有吃醋护食的时候。Archer闻此言才稍微放过迪卢木多，让他靠在自己怀里侧过头来接吻。节奏变慢的律动让迪卢木多好受不少，发麻的穴肉也渐渐能获得一些快感。Archer的手指在菊穴的入口处摩擦着，浅浅探进一个指尖又退出，如此几次待迪卢木多适应后进入了整根手指。阳器和手指一起玩弄后穴的感觉很奇怪，迪卢木多觉得这感觉新奇刺激又勾起了他的羞耻心，气息也因此紊乱起来。Archer继续塞了一根手指，他几乎是要彻底开发迪卢木多身下的地方一样尝试着各种可能，迪卢木多的喉咙里挤出几句痛吟，但是这感觉正如之前所说的，很微妙。“你也一起来吧？”Archer这么邀请道，明显是对着Caster。“嗯……？”Caster的语调上扬，显得很有兴趣。“什、什么？”迪卢木多很确定他刚才听到了什么，身体紧绷，将体内的物件绞紧几分。“这孩子也很期待呢，对吧？”Archer在他耳边讲，炽热的吐息惹得他面红耳赤。“迪卢木多，好孩子，脚环着我的腰。”Caster这样诱导着，他的声音温柔得滴出水，哄骗的技术不输任何一个诱人堕落的恶魔。迪卢木多鬼使神差地将脚缠在他腰上，就像他们以前一样。只不过现在迪卢木多的后穴里还插着另一个人的物件。贤王的性器在结合的部位磨蹭着，他亲吻迪卢木多，试图转移他的注意力，在他身体放松的时候加入这场性爱。然后迪卢木多的后穴完全吞入两位王的性器的时候，他的泪水像决堤一样将那条半透明的纱布浸得湿透，抽噎的声音简直让人心碎。Caster解开那条头纱，眼泪已经把那些纤长的睫毛打湿，他心痛地将泪痕一一吻去，身下并不敢有大动作。等他哭了一阵子，身体已经有点脱力的时候，体内的两只野兽却是觉醒了一样开始律动。他像夹在两个飓风之间的一片树叶，身体百骸散架了一般的疼痛，心脏疯狂跳动，将缺氧的血液运送到全身，胸口的起伏完全没有一点作用，口舌像被隔绝空气一样干燥。他的抽泣和呻吟夹杂在一起，这实在太过了，太过分了。罪魁祸首们享受着紧窄的快感，穴肉吸吮得他们飘飘欲仙，对被侵犯的这个人的征服欲膨胀到了极点。然后在蜂蜜色的下垂美目涣散的时候，被一同含在体内的两根性器同时吐出了白浊，在迪卢木多身体的深处射出了精液。迪卢木多被胡来的两人干得晕了过去，性器退出后的穴口还一张一合，不断挤出里面浓稠的体液。他的胸口急剧地起伏，闭着眼皱着眉，但是性器仍然坚挺着，还没有得到满足，可怜地立在那里。Caster想要帮他手淫出来，却被Archer抢了先。那位看起来高高在上的暴君，此时也舍得暂时放低作为王的姿态，替他人口交。他的技术很烂，第一次的总会是很烂，幸好迪卢木多没醒。贤王如此嘲笑道。Archer尝试着给迪卢木多一个深喉，这令他作呕，但是迪卢木多似乎无意识地发出了沙哑的呻吟。然后他用舌尖刺激着铃口，那里已经溢出不少前液，在快速吞吐顶端的刺激下很快也吐出来乳白色的体液。Archer躲避不及，嘴里和脸上多多少少都沾了点，他眉头紧蹙，甚是不悦。“嘛……算了，看在今天你给本王带来愉悦的份上。”最终还是心软原谅了他的Archer，离开了迪卢木多的房间。这里只剩下两个人。Caster的吉尔伽美什笑了，他吻上迪卢木多疲惫的脸庞，将他搂在怀里。性爱之后昏睡过去的迪卢木多仿佛是一个巨大的洋娃娃，精致，色情，乖巧地躺在身边，贤王陛下想，这是我的，我最喜欢的玩具。所以，这张睡脸是谁也不能分享的，我的独有物。
11338800	STARFIRE Captains Pet	{ "Archive Warning": "Rape/Non-Con", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Original Work", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by itspixiesthings", "chapters": "6/20", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-28T00:00:00", "words": "17,231", "Additional Tags": "Sci-Fi, Lesbian, Erotica, D/s, BDSM, Bondage, Sadism, Masochism, Captive, Pirates, space adventures, fem domme, Discipline, Space Opera, original lesbian characters, Forced Orgasm, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Femslash, f/f - Freeform, f/f/f threesoms, Aliens, POC Main character, Exhibitionism, Punishment, Ace main character, Asexuality, boot blacking, shock collar, Whipping", "Relationship": "Original Female Character/Original Female Character", "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 }	Of those that sail the stars, many may spend their lives seeking treasure, seeking fame, or seeking freedom. For some, freedom is a wide open sea of constellations, the glitter of star fire and the inky black void of space. But in the endless expanses of the galaxy, some may find themselves caged by freedom, while some may find themselves set free by a cage. Such is the fickle nature of power, that it consume some, and leave others untouched. Zara's eyes surveyed the shelves that lined the room, taking in the dozens to hundreds of boxes that were hers to catalogue. She considered it a mark of professionalism that she sighed only briefly before she raised the datatab in her hand to glance at the list of required inventory. It was just another day like so many others, stretching out before and behind her like an endless march of checks and crates. The IG Express was a simple merchant ship, not of particular extravagance. It dealt in intergalactic trade, imported goods and items hard to come by planetside. Although it was a company based on Cirnic, it stopped along it's trade route in many systems, and it had a long history of business with the planets along the way. In this, and in most of it's mechanics, it was an average merchant vessel. And today was another routine stop along said trade route. Zara was tasked with overseeing the loading of new goods... someone else would be overseeing the sale of others. Products came in and products went out... a day in the life. “Where do you want these ones?” A voice made her turn, and she smiled; a polite gesture that did nothing to communicate the boredom she felt. The loaders likely felt just as caught in the endless monotony as she did, anxious to be done with their shifts and hit the bars for a shot or two of starshine. Unwind in the evening before waking up the next morning to do it all again. “Right over on those shelving units please. Thank you.” She gestured with her tail, directing the workers based on the designations for each type of cargo, and the types of cargo were numerous. Supplies, spare machine parts, and technological items were in abundance, but so too were more costly luxury items. The company Zara worked for was a merchant vessel, and they often dealt in the kinds of things Zara herself wouldn't be able to come close to affording on her own salary. There were exotic spices and herbs that were hard to find and therefor all the more in high demand, organized according to their planets of origin. Clothing and novelty items, sought after by those without the time or the inclination to make long interplanetary voyages. All sorts of spirits, a collection of traditions and a rather amusing confirmation of the universal truth that no matter how far distant the planet or how foreign the people, everyone invented some form of booze. A finger swiped across the small screen in her hand, glowing a faint pink hue into the room. Checking off items as they arrived, confirming the IG Express's acquisition of each item. It was monotonous work, but she knew it could always be worse. She might have no work at all. That was a pleasant thought. As her eyes scrolled through the lists on the screen, one of the loaders tapped her on the shoulder. The woman was amanteera, an insectoid species from Querran. She was older, her skin beginning to toughen and mottle. Zara wondered how long she had been doing this job. It certainly couldn't offer decent retirement. The woman's claws were folded around a sheet of paper. Hardcopy? That was unusual. “This last crate wont be on your list. Last minute addition.” The woman's mandibles clicked as she spoke, an accented form of common that Zara was more than familiar with, in her line of work. Say nothing else of the job, she did get to travel. Her tail swayed behind her as she turned to take the paper from the worker's hand, peering at the listing with some amount of curiosity. Last minute additions on hardcopy were uncommon, but not completely unheard of. Still, it required a little bit of extra attention. She restrained herself from huffing with annoyance at the interruption to routine. The paper looked like it checked out. Her eyes flitted to the crate, already being loaded onto the ship between the arms of two more workers. It apparently contained mechanical tools, and the clink of the crate as it was jostled into the room confirmed that. The paper had proper authorization from the right people; it ticked all the right boxes. “Why the last minute change? Now I'll have to scan the paper in to add this to the digital inventory. They couldn't have sent the data with the rest of this?” There was annoyance in her voice, but it really wasn't directed to the workers. It was the higher ups making these kinds of changes after everything had already gone through the proper channels that made more work for her. The manteera just clicked and made a shrugging motion as she straightened to her full height, towering over Zara's much smaller stature. “I just deliver what I'm told. You'd have to ask my boss.” There was sympathy in the woman's voice, and Zara smiled some, shaking her head with a sigh of resignation. “No, it's fine. I'm just complaining, really. It's been a long day.” That elicited a peal of laughter, high pitched and raspy, from the woman. She nodded in sympathy. “I think we all know what that's like. Where are you headed after you leave this port?” The loaders were finishing up now, crates all put away where they belonged, everything in order. As always. Zara slipped the datatab into a clip on her belt, raising a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The frizzy poof of purple was short and in it's usual state of disarray. She never had the time, or the desire really, to wrangle it into order. “Dangor. After that, the moons of Sheer.” She had to think for a few moments, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she did. Once upon a time she might have been excited at the prospect of stepping foot onto far distant planets. Now, they were just an endless list of names of places that she would barely see more of than a cargo bay. “You get any chance to do any sight seeing?” The woman seemed to have read her mind. Zara's lip curled in a dry smile as she shook her head. Her tail swung around and came to rest on the ground, giving her a moment to lean idly against it as she crossed her arms. “Nah.. maybe a day of personal time, but you can't stray too far from the ship. Most of us just find a bar to get drunk in while we wait.” Not that she was in the habit of that. Well, not always. On occasion. Most of the time she just wanted to kick back and rest. “Well, at least that's something. Living planetside isn't all it's cracked up to be either. Sometimes I wish I could get out there, see the galaxy. A little bit of adventure you know?” The woman's big eyes looked wistful, looking with something akin to longing at the crates of goods. Possibly wondering at the history of the objects within, their origins, their stories, their culture. Zara had often wondered the same things herself. “Trust me, my job is not all that adventurous. But, it's a living.” No sense letting this become too melancholy. Zara smiled, reaching out a hand towards the employee as she roused herself from where she stood. Her tail curled reflexively around her leg as she shook the woman's clawed hand. “Thanks for everything today. Hopefully you're due for a vacation soon.” She winked, trying to liven the mood a little bit. The manteera nodded, returning the warm handshake. “Yes. Soon.” Really, living on a ship was much nicer outside of planetary atmosphere. The endless expanse of stars from the viewports never ceased to amaze Zara, no matter how many times she saw them. At the end of a long day, there was nothing she enjoyed more than just gazing into the sea of lights, glittering like precious stones, stretching out for infinity. There was nothing more soothing, or more beautiful to her. Some people said it was disconcerting to see stars at all hours of the day cycle, the only indicator aboard the ship that it was technically daytime being the artificial lighting. But she had never minded it; the stars were light enough to keep her. She liked seeing them as she passed through the corridors in what was otherwise a very mundane job.Her eyes were bleary as she moved through the ship, her feet taking her with sluggish steps towards the mess hall. The alarms had only just woken them, alerting the day crew that it was time to be up and to look lively. The doors made a soft swooshing sound as she passed, the large room filled with the kind of shuffling bustle of those only just waking up and eager to get on with their days.Food was being served for the employees, synthesized food packs designed to take on the semblance of planetside delicacies, but never quite making their mark. Still, they were far better than flavourless ration bars. She was, for her own part, more interested in the coffee. It was weak, watery and all but flavourless itself, but it was real coffee, not produced by the artificial synthesizer. That cup of fresh hot coffee in the mornings was easily the highlight of her day.... because even shit coffee is still coffee. Her fingers curled around the white mug, letting the heat from the edges sink into her hands. It smelled less than strong. It was still heavenly. The moment was broken in an instant when the lights shut out. The room held it's collective breath for a moment, everyone too taken by surprise to call out in alarm. For a moment the room was bathed only in the glow from the stars in the viewports. Then there was a sound of generators kicking in, backup energy systems whirring to life as the illumination came back, dimmed and soft. The emergency alarms followed on the backup system's heels, even as the ship gave a sudden lurch that sent everyone stumbling to the left. Zara's tail whipped out to keep her balance, precious coffee flying from her hands. The sound of the ceramic smashing on the floor was overwhelmed by the sounds of distress and confusion from the others in the mess. “This is the Captain speaking. We are under attack. Repeat. The ship is under attack. Prevent the aggressors from boarding at all costs. High Alert!” The Captain's voice blared through the speakers, distorted and crackling. She reached for the blaster at her hip, too confused to think twice. It looked like she was due for some adventure after all. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The ship was in utter chaos. People ran this way and that, skittering through the hallways with a clatter of claws and steel toed boots. The lights flickered, dim and scattered as the ship rocked and shook. Zara had to pause to brace herself against the wall for a moment, before she rushed to remember emergency protocol. Someone was running past her, and without thinking she put out a hand to grasp the other girl's arm, pulling her towards herself. As she spun, her feet scrambling to keep balance, Zara recognized her as another worker from the same shift as her. “Katy. What's going on. What's happening.” As Zara spoke, the girl's eyes were wide and she was shaking. She gestured with her blaster, pointing it in the direction that she had been headed. There was a sound of explosion as the ship bucked again, throwing both girls off balance. Katy pulled her arm free from Zara's grip. “Haven't you heard? We're under attack. Pirates.” Katy looked nervous as she spoke, eyes casting around the hallway. “We've been trained for this possibility. We.. we have to defend the ship!” Zara could hear the quiver in her voice. Although she was right, the employees of IG Express had been trained for the possibility of attack, and pirates were certainly not unheard of, Zara had never once been in this situation herself. And she doubted that her co-worker had either.This was new.“Do we know anything about who they are? What they want?” The two of them had started to move now, blasters in hand, tails swaying behind them, attempting to keep balanced as they ran.“What they want? What do pirates ever want?” The ship shook again and Zara could hear shouts further down the hall as blaster fire rang out. “I haven't heard who they are. Just that we need to stop them from boarding. But they seem to be doing some substantial damage to the ship!”Zara reached out to catch Katy by the shoulders as she stumbled. “Come on. We've got this.” She tried to sound encouraging, but she could feel her heart beating in her own chest even as she did so. “It sounds like there's some action up this way.” As she released her friend she grinned, holding up her blaster. “Let's give 'em hell!”Katy nodded. The two of them steadied themselves before rushing off in the direction of the conflict. Alarms still sounded through the ship as they ran, and Zara could feel her breath burning in her lungs. Her heart seemed to beat to a rhythm of adrenaline, fast and erratic as she went. We can do this. We've been trained. Her blaster felt heavy in her hands as she ran towards the sounds of combat. They seemed to be coming from the ship's hangar doors, a clear point of entry if the pirates had been able to dock and force them open.Someone stumbled backwards, and the sound of fired shots rang through the corridors as the two of them reached the scene. As Zara got her first look at the enemy attackers, she felt her heart leap up into her stomach. There were already casualties on the ground, and mostly merchants. The pirates were advancing. A few had already burst past the attempt at a blockage that the merchant workers had hastily put together to keep them out, and each side was engaged in returning fire to the other.The pirates wore uniform colours; green and black suits in a variety of stylings, all seemingly made from some sort of technologically enhanced fabric designed specifically for space travel. Most of them appeared to be human, though there were other species present as well; Zara spotted a few of the blue scaled kadrens among them.Her mind raced to try to identify the uniform, but she came up with a blank. There were more than a few pirates in the galaxy, and she wasn't familiar enough with them to know the crew by their insignia. It was worn on the arm of the uniform, a bright burst of light around which seemed to orbit two thin circles.Zara rushed to a crate behind which several of her crew mates were crouched, all of them shaking as they attempted to return fire to the enemy. She watched as Katy did the same, diving for cover before popping her head up to unleash a burst of blaster fire.“How are we doing?” She looked to the girl beside her, who's hair was half out of the braided bun it had previously been so neatly folded into. Strands fell in front of her eyes as she turned towards Zara, shaking her head in fearful confusion. "I don't know. This isn't the only point they've breached us... I've gotten word from the starboard side that they're trying to hold them off there, too.” As she spoke a blast shot past their cover, causing the woman to flinch and duck down, clutching at her blaster like her life depended on it.“Wonderful.” Zara raised her eyes over the crate, peering at the pirates before she dropped down again. There were more of them now, and they were gaining. They had already broken into the left corridor, and were moving down the right as well. At each interval there were more points of resistance. All Zara could do was try to help man this one.There was a shout of pain as someone took a hit. The room was so loud with the sounds of fire and people yelling that Zara could barely hear her own thoughts. The sounds were large, overpowering, and her heart was beating through her veins and rushing through her ears. All she could do now was feel.She lifted up above the crate, aiming her blaster at the nearest enemy target. Took the shot. Ducked back down. She didn't wait to see if the hit had landed. A blast of energy fired past her, so close she could smell the air burning as it whooshed by. Time was lengthened, each second punctuated slowly by a heart beat. Thump. Rise.Thump. Aim.Thump. Fire.She watched one pirate clutch at her shoulder where her blast had met it's mark. There was a grunt of pain as the woman went down, before she was replaced by another. Then she was back down again, waiting for another chance. Another opening.There was a sound of explosion, and suddenly her ears were ringing. The crate was ripped in two, and as Zara and the other woman scrambled to the sides, she ended up looking up directly into the barrel of a large canon blaster. She could smell steaming metal, and feel the heat from the blast. She was lucky she hadn't been directly behind the now destroyed crate. Debris was clattering around her.She quickly moved, her tail poised as she ran to cover further back amidst the sounds of fire and crashes. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as she tucked into a last minute roll behind a wall, quickly spinning on her heel to fire off a blast the way she'd come. Then she moved back down the left hallway, catching her breath for a moment, letting her heart rate subside. Just breath. The sound of feet pounding against the ship's floors was loud, a cacophonous clamour that blended in with the sounds of blaster fire and the heavy breathing of exertion. The pirates were getting in. Her fellow merchant employees were fleeing back just as she had, finding cover down side hallways, which allowed the pirates the opportunity to advance. Already more of them were making it past blockages to the right and left of the entrance, with many continuing to work on the crew that where trying to hold the main corridor.“Come out come out, kids!” A tall woman, blond, with broad shoulders and heavy looking armour, the one holding the canon blaster, strode into the middle of the scene. She looked around, as though searching out the now hiding crew members.“Surrender nice and easy, and no one else has to get hurt.” There was a smirk resting on her features, blue eyes shining with excitement. As Zara peered around the corner the woman held aloft what looked like some kind of remote device, that she was unable to identify.“I'll make it real simple for you. One... two...” The woman began counting, and Zara could feel a stab of fear jolt through her stomach. She didn't know what was about to happen, but it could not be good. There was a pause before the pirate finished the set, her grin widening as her thumb came down on the button. “Three.” There was not an explosion or a blast, but at that moment Zara gave a cry of shock as the blaster clutched in her hand lit up, sparking with electricity. She had to drop it, letting it clatter to the floor, and similar cries sounded from all around her. Hastily she scrambled to pick it up again as it stopped sparking, hoping that what she dreaded was not the case. As her hand closed around it, she squeezed the trigger to fire off a test shot. It did nothing. They'd taken out their weapons. She felt her heart sinking into her stomach, cold fear creeping through her skin as she discarded the now useless blaster. The pirates were advancing now, she could hear their footsteps approaching from around the corner where she hid. They were being lead by the blond woman, perhaps she was their Captain? Zara could hear her coworkers moving now, rushing to flee. The sound of shots chasing after them rang through her ears. Apparently the pulse hadn't effected the pirate's weapons. How convenient for them. Running wasn't going to do any good. As she peered around the corner she watched as the blond pirate caught someone by the neck, yanking her back towards her. As the woman's elbow connected to her face she sunk to the ground, knees buckling out from under her. She had barely had time to cry out in pain. More and more pirates were advancing, and their blasters easily caught those who attempted to flee.Zara took a deep breath before she ducked back down the side hallway, eyes casting around for any kind of viable escape option. There was an air vent a little ways down the hall, and if she could make it there before the pirates had advanced far enough to get down this corridor...She took off, leaving the discarded blaster behind her. Her feet hit the floor so hard she was terrified the pirates could hear her, would come running to put an end to her flight.By the time she made it to the air vent she was breathing heavy, her lungs burning in her chest with each moment that passed. She didn't have time for subtlety or finesse. Fingers latched into the sides of the vent cover, and she pulled.Moving with a sense of urgency, she turned it to the right, looking for the latching mechanism that kept it in place. It was designed to be able to be removed if needed, but not easily, and not quickly. She felt the seconds marching past her with a growing feeling of dread. Each drawn out moment could mean a blaster bolt through her heart.Finally the vent cover pulled free, and she let it clatter to the ground. The loud noise made her cringe, but she ignored it, letting the moment pass as she reached up to the opening in the wall. Gripped the ledge. Pulled with her arms.It was a tighter fit inside the vent than she had expected, not that that should be so surprising. She was uncomfortably crouched, the restricting space forcing her to duck her head in a way that made her neck cramp. It would be slow moving crawling through this thing.Behind her she heard the pirates just begin to expand down the corridor. The sounds of boots against the floors and the creak of armour was unmistakable. Marching towards her. She tried to move forward faster. At the very least, she knew they wouldn't be able to fit where she could only barely manage. She was much smaller than a human.“Lex! Over here.” A voice sounded out, and she heard metal scraping against metal. “The vent is open. Someone's escaped into the air vents.” There was a clattering sound as the vent cover was tossed aside. Then she heard the voice of the large blonde, responding to whoever had spoken before.“We'll deal with them later. We have other things to worry about right now.”Then the footsteps moved on. Zara felt like her entire body was shaking, the tension of the moment cut and her breathing resumed. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath.She wasn't certain where the next exit might present itself. It was entirely possible she was about to get herself into worse trouble. Still, it was better than being shot through the back while running, or the other alternative of surrender.As she moved she let her hands trail along the sides, looking for the seams of an opening. It would be a little more difficult to work the mechanisms from this side, but she would have to manage. It wasn't long before she found one, stopping where she was. She wanted to cry in relief, tears springing to her eyes as she began to move her fingers along the edges of the cover. This way.. then that way... Her hands slipped a few times. This wasn't designed to be opened from this side. Before she had a chance to figure out how it could be loosed from here, she heard the sounds of more voices.“We'll have their Captain soon. Won't be long before the crew surrenders.” Zara stayed perfectly still. She didn't want to be discovered here. From the sounds of it, there were at least two pirates standing near the vent. She could only hope they couldn't hear her heart beating loud in her chest.“Captain Viola certainly is giving them a run for their money.” Someone chuckled, and she could hear the sounds of feet shifting. “And Lex has the bridge locked down from what I've heard.” The second one spoke with a thick accent, something Zara couldn't quite place.Captain Viola.... she had heard that name before. Now she knew which pirates they were dealing with. She had heard of them, after all. They were the crew of the Starfire, a ship known as much for menacing merchants and rich tour yachts as they were for laying waste to military vessels. And Lex... Someone had called the woman from earlier Lex. So that wasn't the Captain then.She wondered what their Captain was like. If she was as cold and ruthless as the stories said. It was entirely possible she was going to find out first hand, and soon.“Another job well done, I'd say.” It seemed like they were going to move on. Their blasters clinked from the motion, and their voices began to sound fainter. “Well, it's not like taking out merchant ships is hard.”Both women seemed perfectly relaxed, each sharing a moment of light hearted laughter. Someone patted someone else on the back as they walked. No running. They clearly felt they had time. “Sure pays good, though.”“Better than military entanglements, that's for sure.” There was a shared hum of agreement before one of them responded, “Military is more fun, though.” Zara could practically hear the smugness in their voices as the sounds quieted, retreating further down the hallway. She waited a few more moments, until she was certain she could no longer hear any trace of them.Then she pressed her hands on the vent cover, and gave it a twist. She had to pull herself out, as the cover crashed to the floor. Stiffening at the sound, her eyes moved to look in the direction the pirates had gone, but she saw no sign of movement. Quickly, she exhaled, and pulled herself forward and out. She had to tuck her chin into her chest and land in a roll to avoid injuring herself as she tumbled out of the vent, and even then she still couldn't help a groan of pain. That was going to leave multiple bruises. She got to her feet, swinging her tail around to catch herself as she stumbled momentarily. Then she quietly set out in the direction that the pirates had been moving. The bridge. A woman, wearing the colours of the Starfire, was standing near the doors to the bridge. Zara could see her inputting commands on the control panel. Doors all across the ship had been locked down, keeping segments of the crew apart from each other and preventing collaboration between crew members. The crew of the IG Express was scattered now, many having surrendered after the loss of their weapons, more injured and subdued, or worse, dead.“We're dealing with some of the crew with fight still in 'em over here.” A voice crackled through the pirates comm device. Zara watched carefully, listening, from where she crouched, hidden in the shadows around a corner. “Is the bridge under control?”“Quite. Do what you can with the remaining fighters, I'm sure they won't last much longer. I've got the floors locked down.” The pirate spoke into the comm as she moved, blaster at the ready in her other hand. Maybe, if she could just get the doors opened...“Good. Captain's on her way to you.” The words made Zara shudder, a foreboding sense of urgency filling her. She had to get the bridge freed before Captain Viola arrived. She waited another moment, watching the pirate nod with an absentminded air, pushing some of her dark hair over her shoulder.“Understood.”Once the comm device was clicked off, Zara poised to spring. Almost, almost.... There. The pirate had her back turned to her. If she could just get the weapon from her... She leapt, pushing herself off with her legs and flinging her arms for the woman's neck.She was rewarded with the satisfaction of hearing the pirate cry out in surprise as she wrestled her, her tail winding around to trip her legs. She knew she had to get the blaster away from her if she had any hope of winning this, so she pulled her backwards with all of her strength, aiming to reach for the weapon.The woman reacted by driving her elbow backwards, hitting Zara in the stomach. She felt the wind leave her lungs in a horrid moment of dull pain before she lashed out in turn, grabbing for the blaster for leverage. Her tail she swung around like a fist, aiming to hit the woman in the gut as she turned. It worked. The baster dropped from her grip and Zara tore it free, coming around to aim it.But right then another pirate came up from behind her, knocking the weapon from her grasp. It fell to the ground with a loud crash beneath her.Zara growled in frustration, turning to see this new assailant at the same time as she kicked out with her foot to catch her opponent in the ribs. As she did she felt hands reach out to grab her from behind, pulling her by the shoulders off her balance. Her tail lashed out, delivering a powerful blow to the legs of the pirate, causing her to stumble backwards, but not loosen her grip on Zara.Then she felt the butt of a blaster crack against her head, and her body went limp. She felt the room spin and before she could process what was happening she was on the ground, her face pressed against the cold floor and a blaster barrel held against her cheek. It cut into her skin, a cold and deadly threat.“Well, that was entertaining!” The woman was panting in between words as she took a moment to gather herself. Zara felt a jolt of satisfaction that the pirates were out of breath. One of them had a bloody nose and the other was rubbing a spot in her middle where Zara had hit her. Good.“Let's get you back together with the others now, shall we?” Zara could feel her hands being pulled back behind her, at the same time as a rough piece of cloth was shoved between her teeth and tightened at the nape of her neck. Her hands were bound, but her legs were left free. Although, her tail was tied down to her ankle. Showed they had some sense.She tried to give some kind of half hearted struggle, but the room was still spinning around her and her stomach felt like it was about to empty itself of it's contents. Her head was swimming and pain throbbed through her temple as the pirates pulled her to her feet.She was being walked, held between them both, through the doors to the bridge. Blearily she looked into the room, filled with other hostages similarly bound, kneeling on the floor with blasters trained at their heads. In the middle of the room was the merchant Captain, held and guarded by the blond woman from earlier. Lex.The pirates were not gentle with her, pushing her roughly to her knees with the others. She hissed as she felt her legs impact against the floor, and she knew that her knees were going to be bruised for days after this. If she survived this, of course.Only a few moments passed before the doors whooshed open again, and in strode the tallest woman Zara had ever seen. She walked with purpose, each stride placed with a confidence and a certainty that made Zara feel in increments smaller and smaller. She held a blaster at the ready, and her expression was cold, calculating, in control. She had long, such very long, curly pink hair that was so thick it was only barely able to be restrained in a ponytail.Her green and black uniform was gathered at the waist into a large skirt, and the emblem of the Starfire was tattooed on the dark skin of her forearm. There was a patch covering one of her eyes, ironically in the shape of a heart. Everything about her seemed infinite, somehow larger than life, in every way.Zara knew with certainty that this must be Captain Elle Viola. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Captain ducked her head through the doors as her eyes took in the subsiding chaos. Electrical panels sparked. Blast marks littered the walls. She stepped over the body of a merchant employee, a unfortunate casualty, but nothing out of the ordinary. She didn't expect anyone to roll over and let her take their ships, after all. Fighting back was their prerogative, as much as attacking was hers. It was the natural way of things. Her people were rounding up the survivors now. The crew was mostly cirin, with a few humans among them. Cirin were a short, but stocky species, with ivory white skin and purple stripes, each one of them unique from each other. They also boasted strong prehensile tails that could cause a good amount of damage on their own if provoked into a fight. She watched with a quiet sense of approval as they were subdued, tails being cuffed down to their ankles to keep them from causing any trouble.She moved through the hallways with a sense of purpose, her blaster at the ready should anyone choose to give her grief. For the most part, they did not. Many of them looked like they rather wanted to, but bound and held in submission they were not in a position to do so. Others looked more cowed, avoiding her gaze as she passed.“Round up the survivors. I'm heading to the bridge.” Her voice rang through the communications channels as she spoke into the headset. She would address them there. She could hear static on the com crackling before another voice answered back.“Order received, Captain.”Her first mate was precise and professional as always. As she marched through the ship she passed her crew members corralling the merchants. The sounds of indignant protest were muffled as the prisoners were gagged, cloth pulled between their teeth and tied behind the nape of their necks. They didn't need to speak: she only expected them to listen.The bridge was crowded with prisoners, forced to their knees by her crew, blasters pointed at their heads. Most of them were still enough, which showed they had good sense when incapacitated and facing down the barrel of a blaster. A few of them shot anger filled glares at their captors. She entered the room with her own blaster drawn and pointed, just in case any of them were thinking about trying something. One could never be too careful, but the gesture turned out to be unnecessary.None of these crewmembers were her priority at this moment. She strode into the centre of the room, long strides bringing her towards her first mate. Lex gave a short nod in acknowledgement. She had before her, kneeling at her feet, a cirin woman in uniform. Elle's knowledge of the merchant guild insignias marked her as the ship's Captain. Just the woman she wanted to see.As she approached, Lex pushed the prisoner forward, so the Captain lurched towards Elle. Her hair was a mess and her breathing was ragged. Lex had pulled the woman's hands behind her back and forced her to the ground. Well, wrestled her to the ground was more likely from the look of her. Her eyes gleamed with an enraged fire, and it made a smile spread across Elle's own features. There was no drug quite so sweet as victory.Slowly she crouched, bending her knees to bring her eye level with the merchant Captain. She observed there were bruises around her neck and face. There had obviously been a scuffle to get her under control. Elle put on a sympathetic, understanding smile before she spoke.“Let's talk. Captain to Captain.” She grinned as she watched the woman's frown deepen. This was always the fun part of the job. Watching begrudging deference break across the features of the enemy. Knowing how much they hated their own helplessness. Watch the emotions of defeat cross their faces. The woman spat on the ground between them.“You won't get away with this, pirate.” It was said with a growl of indignation. A futile attempt to assert some form of agency over the situation. An act of lashing out in the only way available to her, an expression of defiance. Elle had heard it many times before, the exact same words spoken with the exact same vitriol and through the exact same expressions. It never got old. She nodded, clicking her tongue in agreement.“Everyone says that.” Her voice was soothing and soft, but she spoke with conviction. Power. “And while I'm sure someday it will actually be true, I highly doubt that day is today.” She leaned in so her lips were only inches from the captive. “We are in deep space, you are off course, days travel away from any help you might be signalling right now. By the time the authorities come to your aid, I'll be long gone.”It was true. She had had operatives on the ship since it had left Andron, people well payed to sabotage the ship's present courses. A little bit of bribery went a long way in her line of work, and there was always a supply of people unhappy with their jobs and eager for the credits.She reached out to gently brush a strand of hair out of the woman's eyes. “Now. I'm not going to kill your crew, so long as nobody tries anything... heroic. I think there's been enough deaths today, don't you?”The cirin's teeth gritted in barely held back anger. The struggle on her face was evident. She wanted to lash out, Elle could feel it, coming off of her in waves. It was delightful. Just in case the woman was having too much trouble controlling her desires, Lex's blaster barrel pushed more firmly against the back of her head. Just to remind her it was there.“What do you want.” The Captain choked the words out through a clenched jaw. Elle grinned, rising to her feet above the kneeling captive.“Simply your cooperation... by which I mean, sit still and shut up.” Her arms crossed over her chest as she looked down her nose at her. “My people will loot your ship, take all of your valuables, and then be on our way. As long as nobody gets in our way, of course.”“You want me to just sit by while you rob us.” The woman didn't look pleased at the prospect. But Elle was confident from what she had seen of her that she wouldn't do anything to endanger the lives of her crew, and that meant conceding defeat now, regardless of how distasteful the prospect. Elle couldn't help the satisfied smile resting on her lips.“Yes, precisely.” As Elle spoke, Lex stooped to reach around the captive, putting the Captain's own comm device in front of her mouth like an offering. The woman glanced at it with derision before turning her glare back at Elle.“I don't suppose I have much choice, do I.” Her voice was bitter, but she made no move to resist.“No, Captain. You do not. Make the announcement.” Elle's words were accompanied by Lex moving her grip on the comm device, switching it on with a swipe of her thumb. The enemy Captain paused as though hesitating, before she finally sighed and began to speak.“All personal, this is your Captain speaking.” She gritted out the words like she was taking bitter medicine, her voice hard and choked. “Stand down. Do not attempt to engage the pirates. Cooperate with their demands. That is all.” Then she glared back up at Elle as the comm was switched off and withdrawn from in front of her lips. “Happy?”“Immeasurably. Thank you, Captain. I do always prefer to avoid needless unpleasantness.” She allowed herself a self satisfied smirk before she turned away from the conversation. If the crew of the IG Express listened to their Captain's orders, then any still fighting would be laying down arms now. All that was left was to wait for her crew to begin carting goods to their ship. Neat and tidy. Painless.Her eyes turned to take in the crew members that had been bound. There was a good number of them, corralled and cornered, each of them bound and forced to their knees. Her eyes scanned them, each of them with blaster barrels at their necks, and took in the worry in their eyes. Some of them were angry, defiant like their Captain. Some of them were given over to fear. More than a few were crying softly, their bodies shuddering to hold back tears. Poor dears.But one of them caught her attention.The girl looked afraid, but she held back that fear. It wasn't outright defiance in her eyes. It was courage, but not fearlessness. Everyone else avoided looking in her direction, staring instead at the floor as they counted the seconds to when this could become a memory. A few, like the Captain, had eyes filled with rage and indignation. But this girl looked at her with a bravery that was still laced with fear. That was interesting.She walked over to where she was kneeling, and waved a hand in an upward motion, signalling to the pirate to get the prisoner back on her feet. She was gripped by the arms and dragged upwards, her legs finding purchase beneath her. Her tail twitched where it was chained to her ankle, eager to be freed from the unfamiliar restrictions.The girl had a round face and big, wide eyes that were glassy with unshed tears. There was a trail of dried blood from a split in her lip, and her hair was a mass of purple mess. She trembled where she stood. Elle liked that. Reaching forward, she hooked a finger around the cloth gag and pulled it free of her lips.“What's your name?” She kept her hand resting on her chin, tilting her face just slightly, taking in and inspecting her features. She was rather cute. Big eyes, just on the verge of tears. She thought that she'd be even cuter if she was crying. Still, she didn't answer, instead put up a show of disgust as she tried to yank herself free from the pirate's grasp. Elle's grip only tightened around her jaw, causing a whimper of surprise to fall from the girl's lips.“I asked you a question.” Her voice darkened just an octave, hoping to put just enough fear into the girl to perhaps loosen her tongue. The girl trembled just so at the threatening tone. Delightful.“It's Zara.” She still seemed reluctant to speak, the words gritted out with difficulty. Begrudging cooperation was the most entertaining kind. Elle let her thumb pass a few times over her lips and chin, feeling the smooth skin beneath her own. The gesture might have been almost affectionate, in different circumstances. Then she released her, letting her hand drop, giving the girl, Zara, a little bit more freedom.“Nice to meet you Zara. I'm Captain Elle Viola, of the pirate ship Starfire.” Whether she had heard of her previously or not, formal introductions were always a proper way to begin an acquaintanceship, and Elle was nothing if not proper. Even if she was a pirate, good manors went a long way.Zara did not look as though she appreciated the gesture. She grimaced, baring her teeth. “I'm sure the pleasure is all yours.” The words were spoken in a tone of voice as cold as the vacuum of space. Elle's eyes lit up at that, a twinkle dancing in them as she considered the captive's assertion. Zara seemed to have nerve, that was certain, despite the way she still shook in the pirate's grasp. Elle laughed.“Perhaps.”She paused, coming to a quick decision in her mind. Then, she turned her gaze to the crew member currently holding the captive at gunpoint. She locked eyes with her, giving a short and decisive nod. “I like this one. Take her.” Her hand gestured from the still bound Zara to the doors, waving her away. As the pirate began to move, Zara stiffened in her grip, a look of horror and confusion crossing her features.“What?” As much as Elle enjoyed the growing fear in her eyes, she did not bother to look to see if that unshed tear had finally been jarred loose. She did not respond to her at all, instead directing her instructions to her crew member.“Have her prepared for me and taken to my quarters.” Even as she spoke, the woman was already moving, pulling the captive by the arms. Zara tried to plant her feet on the ground, dig in her heels, but ended up with her feet lifted off the floor as she tried to kick.“Wait you cant-!” Her cries were stifled as the pirate forced the gag back between her teeth, and her protests were drowned by muffled grunts and sounds. Her face was flushed and she pulled against the hands that held her, to no avail. Elle watched with a satisfied smile as she was dragged from the room.“Now wait just a minute!” Her attention was returned to the merchant Captain as the woman stumbled to her feet. Lex had her blaster digging into her throat as she struggled to stand. She was about to kick her knees out from behind when Elle shook her head, a gentle allowance that the prisoner be allowed to stand.“You have something to say?” She quirked a brow in her direction, the previously friendly smile replaced with a cold and unfeeling gaze.“You said you were going to rob us, not kidnap members of my crew!” Although Lex gave her leave to stand, she was pulled back by her grip on her arm as she tried to lunge forward. “What is this!” The Captain's tail was thrashing against it's restraints, and her face was growing flushed with colour. Elle observed her growing indignation for a few moments before deigning to reply.“Don't worry your pretty little head. I can give you my word she won't be harmed.” Even as she spoke the ship's door whooshed shut behind the pirate and the unwilling captive being dragged away. Elle paused, looking thoughtful as though considering the matter seriously before locking eyes with her enemy. “Your crew managed to kill several of my people, you know. I think I am owed at least one able bodied worker in compensation.”The Captain of the crew growled under her breath as she leaned as far forward as she could. “What about my crew?” Her voice raised in volume as she jutted her chin out towards the pirate. “You killed many of mine as well and now you're taking more of them?”Elle laughed then, reaching out a hand to pat the Captain's cheek, a condescending gesture that only added insult to the injury. “Well. This is a robbery. You do get the poorer end of the proverbial stick I'm afraid.” She sounded like she was explaining a simple concept to a child, patronizing and flippant. “Nothing personal. But please rest assured she will be well treated.” She shot the woman a wink then before turning on her heel and letting Lex gag her into complacence.Today was shaping up to be a good day indeed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The woman dragged her by the forearm down the hallway, Zara's feet rushing to keep up. She was tall, not as tall as the Captain, perhaps, but all humans seemed tall to her. Zara could feel the blaster barrel held directly against the skin of her neck. She could hear her own breathing, ragged and panicked, through the gag. Why did the Captain want her? Where was she being taken?The pirate did not speak to her as she moved, striding quickly through the ship. Zara had to scramble, off balance without her tail and pulled along at the fast pace. They passed several others along the way, her crew mates from the IG Express, all of them being subdued and bound by the pirates as they gave themselves up.She heard the clatter of weapons being tossed aside, weapons that had been rendered useless anyways. It was more of a symbolic gesture than anything else, but it still felt final in a way that shook her.When they reached the docking bay where the two ships where connected, she tried once again to fight against the strong hands that held her. This was it, there was no going back if she crossed that threshold. The woman's grip only tightened, and try as she might to dig her heels down, she was lifted off her feet. She made a noise through the gag, a muffled protest that went ignored by her captor. In an instant, she was carried through, and then she was aboard the enemy ship.The pirate ship.She looked around her, eyes wide as she took in the new environment. The pirate was already moving her quickly. She felt in a daze as the scenery blurred by her. There was much less chaos now, removed from the battles on the boarded vessel.This ship was less picturesque, less spotless and corporate. Instead of polished white interiors designed to feel as though one were living in a planetside building, this ship was raw metal and electronic wiring coursing through the walls as though it was part of the decor.“I didn't know we were taking prisoners.” Someone stopped her escort, bringing both of them to a halt. The woman looked her up and down with a critical eye, brow raised in question. Zara could feel the grip on her shoulder tighten as she was thrust forward, grunting at the suddenness of the motion, her feet hitting the ground.“Captain wants this one.”The pirate's eyes widened her eyes at that, leaning down to get a better look at her. She stooped low like the Captain had, taking in her features, looking her over with renewed interest.“Does she now?” Her smile had turned positively predatory as she let the implications of that linger. Zara felt her skin crawl, under such intense scrutiny. The objectifying gaze of the other woman was unsettling and unpleasant. She squirmed, trying instinctively to pull back from her, but the pirate holding her did not let go of her grip on her.“Alright, I'll take her from here.” Only then was she passed from one woman to the other, hands reaching out to pull her forward as the other pirate nodded, relinquishing her grip. “C'mon, little one... We'll take good care of you.” The way she winked made Zara shiver, a whimper of fear bubbling through her throat. What were they going to do to her?The pirate pushed a button on the comm device on her wrist, and then she was forced to continue her journey through the strange ship. It was mostly empty of people, due to the crew being aboard her ship at the moment, more than likely currently in the process of looting it and carting the goods over.There were a few women here and there, tending to technical things, who looked at her with curiosity as she passed, shepherded along by the woman currently handling her.They went down a few passageways that she tried hard to remember and pay attention to, but they all started to blend together. Eventually a door slid open to reveal what looked like some kind of communal bathing room, the cleanest part of the ship Zara had yet seen.It's floors and walls were covered in green tiles and there were several shower heads lined up along the walls as well as bathing tubs. It was , much more luxurious than any of the facilities aboard the IG Express.Soon after she had been unceremoniously shoved into the room, the doors opened to admit two more women. They were wearing what looked like swimwear, in the same black and green she had seen all the pirates wearing. One of them had pale skin and hair done up in looped braids. The other was darker and wore her hair short to her head.“Right, ladies, Captain wants this one. Get her tidied up.” The woman's thumb jerked towards Zara. The two looked surprised for a moment, looking her over in the same way everyone else had so far. Then they shared a knowing smile, and nodded.One of them came up behind her, and immediately began pulling her torn jacket off of her shoulders. She tried to jerk away from her, but the other girl came up in front of her, hand reaching out to grasp her by the chin, just like the Captain had.“Now now... hold still.” She was soft spoken, but her voice was still firm. Zara felt hands behind her untying her wrists to slip the jacket from her, letting it fall to the floor in a heap, revealing a few cuts and scrapes on her arms and shoulders that she hadn't realized she had acquired.Then her shirt was being lifted up, and her eyes widened. She quickly brought her hands forward to try to push them off of her, but the pirate behind her was quick to catch her. She grasped her hands and held them out and then over her head as the other one pulled her shirt free. It soon joined the jacket on the ground. Her cries of protest where caught and stifled by the gag as the two girls continued to peel off layers of clothing. Her shorts were similarly pulled down off of her body, and then her shoes and tights went with them. Each item of clothing was cast aside, and the woman who had escorted her here gathered them up while the others manoeuvred her over to one of the shower heads.“When you're done with her, take her to the Captain's rooms. I'm sure she'll be with her shortly.” And then she was gone, the doors to the bathing room whooshing shut behind her, leaving Zara alone with the other two pirates. She flushed as she looked down at her now quite naked body, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep across her cheeks.Very soon she could feel hot water cascading over her skin, and her hands were held tight to her sides. She tried to move, but the two humans were larger than her and stronger. Words were muffled by the gag as she shook her head, but she was quite quickly stilled as the girl with the braids began to pour what smelled like soap over her body.It had a sweet scent, something floral and honeyed. It made her feel dizzy, the woman's hands lathering it up and running it across her skin. She could feel a sponge begin to pass over her body, and her arms where lifted again over her head as the soap was worked into her skin, under her arms and down her sides. Then her hands were abruptly pulled back behind her again as the woman moved on, the sponge coming around to pass over and around her breasts.She tried to pull her hands away, to move her feet, to escape from their touches. But the two women had her held fast between them, and she felt so disoriented. Hands gripped her arms tight while their feet planted around her own, keeping her in place despite her struggles. Her breathing was quick and shallow as she tried to move but found she could not.“Well isn't she cute...” One of the girls giggled as she let her hands momentarily explore her curves. “I can see why the Captain wanted to keep her.” The girl behind her moved in close, her nose nuzzling near to her neck and making her shudder between them before she had moved back again. Zara could feel her heart racing through her skin, her veins alive and throbbing.Water continued to pour over them, and she felt the heat seeping into her body and relaxing her muscles even as she was scrubbed from head to toe. The soap stung in her cuts and her bruises felt tender, but the heat and the gentle caresses of the two women was soothing. She felt herself beginning to melt into their touch, as the soap was lathered across her legs. The woman in front of her bent down to her knees to take first one foot, then the other, in hand and work soap into her soles. Her tail was not released, but the girl made certain to lather soap over it as well, taking care to work it into the fluff at the end without loosing it from where it was bound to her ankle.When the soap was washed away it left her skin raw and fresh. Her eyelids fluttered closed for a moment before she felt more liquid being poured into her hair, something that smelled like tropical fruits.Strong fingers massaged it into her scalp, lathering it through her hair with meticulous care, and she forgot for a moment to be embarrassed and confused. The scent was sweet and heady, and the massage made her go weak at the knees. As the soaps ran out of her hair and down her body she felt herself relaxing against the girl behind her, letting them prop her up between them.What was happening to her? She wanted to keep struggling, to try to resist, but everything felt so nice and warm and fuzzy. She wanted to relax, to let them carry her through this strange experience. She felt like she was in a dream. Was she dreaming?The water was shut off and the short haired girl passed her over to her companion, moving to grasp a towel that had been hanging some distance away on the wall. She also had in her hands come kind of small box, which she set aside as she reached out with the towel towards her.It was soft on her skin as the two of them passed it around her and dried her off, making certain to get all the water out of her hair, which was now in a frazzled mess.“Good... now, hold still. This might sting.” The girl opened the box, bringing out a small bottle of ointment and some medical bandages, and went to work tending to her cuts.Zara winced and squirmed in the grip of the other, still held fast in place. There was a rather large cut in her shoulder that was bandaged, as well as the bang on her head. The rest of the smaller scrapes were given a medical ointment but no bandages.They made her hiss, each one stinging as they treated it. She felt her breathing pick up as her body was manipulated by steady hands, inspecting her entire form for injuries. Each touch made her breath quicken, though the women where all professionalism in their care.“Pretty stripes!” One of them commented, the other nodding in agreement. Zara blushed under their scrutiny, looking down at herself in a daze before she felt hands in her hair. “She's not too badly injured. She'll be alright.” Zara wanted to reply to her, ask her what was going on, why they were doing this, but the gag kept her from forming coherent words and the scent of the soap and the heat of the room made her vision blur.Her hair was brushed out, every tangle and knot worked through with careful precision. She felt like some kind of a doll or toy propped up between them, manipulated this way and that and pampered. The girl behind her reached around her face, fingers resting for a moment on her lips before hooking themselves around the band of fabric and pulling the gag out of her mouth. She gasped in a lungful of breath, just as the girl in front of her held a bar of something up before her.“Here, eat this. It'll give you more strength.” She gave a playful seeming wink, and Zara looked at the bar with renewed suspicion. Was it safe to eat this? It looked like some kind of ration bar, but who knew what it was, or if it had been poisoned. Was it safe for her species? She felt a slight pat on her cheek, the girl whose shoulders she was leaning on was lightly smacking her, prodding her towards cooperation. “Come on. It's just an energy bar. Eat it.” She sounded annoyed, but the girl holding it out to her smiled in encouragement. With her hands still held down, she had to lean forward to take it in her mouth, hesitantly testing the flavour.She bit down, taking a piece into her mouth and chewing, and the taste was sweet. It wasn't like the ration bars she had, from time to time, had to subsist on, and it wasn't even the bland, off-tasting simulated foods she had become used to. It tasted real. Like dried fruits and oats.The girl grinned wide, offering the bar again as she leaned in for another bite. “Aw, she likes it. Good.” Zara frowned. She felt so small and embarrassed to be fed like this, like she was some creature of curiosity that they had tamed and were hand feeding.It made her cheeks purple with humiliation and nervousness. Still, the taste was good and she could feel her stomach growling for more. One girl held her still while the other fed her bite after bite until the bar was gone. She licked her lips, almost disappointed that she had eaten it all already.“Oh don't worry... we're not quite done with you, little one.” The words were whispered in her ear and made her gasp, a shiver travelling down her spine. She felt hands from behind her move around her middle, pressing into her skin. Her wrists were released, but she felt lethargic and flushed. She didn't want to move. Fingers slid across her stomach, and hands from in front of her moved to grasp her breasts.“Ah...” She felt her breath begin to come faster, heat rising on her skin as an aroma of earth and spice hit her senses. Oil was being rubbed into her, hands circling her breasts in playful but firm movements. Everywhere the oil touched her she felt heat crawl across her, a tingling sensation following in it's wake.Suddenly her skin felt alive, blood rushing through her veins as the two girls smoothed oil into every pore. What was happening?Hands from behind where moving lower now, fingers slipping in between her legs, and she gasped aloud at the sensation. The woman nudged her legs apart with a firm push, giving her access to her pussy, gliding oil over her clit. She throbbed, whimpering as she felt the heat and the thrum move through her. She ached. She needed.She couldn't figure out what was going on... why they were touching her like this... and why she wasn't resisting. She should be resisting, shouldn't she? She felt confused... and so, so hot... “This will get you more than ready for the Captain.” One of them murmured as she felt skilled fingers working the oil into her. “Heightens sensation. Tingles, a little.”Sure enough, soon her entire body felt alive with sensation, a burning kind of throb. She found herself squirming between them and gasping. One was coating her inner thighs while the other was slicking oil up along her collarbone and neck, moving her hands up to her chin and then back down across her breasts. Her nipples throbbed under the woman's palm as she worked the oil deep into her skin.“Awww, she moans so cute.” She froze. Moaning? She hadn't even realized she had been moaning, whining, leaning against the woman behind her. Rocking her hips forward, just a little, unknowingly, to meet the woman's hand. Pressing her clit into her palm as her fingers teased her lips.“Captain Viola will be happy with this one, I think.” She was shaking, shuddering under the pressure as the two girls touched her, gradually moving her forward to rest on the front of the girl in front of her. Hands began to tease her ass, moving around the cheeks and then up her back.“Adorable.” The other agreed, taking her breasts in her hands and giving her nipples a light pinch. Zara cried out, closing her eyes and panting, her breath coming hot against the girl's shoulder where she rested. “She's responsive. Just how the Captain likes.”They continued to talk about her, observing her reactions, and Zara felt like some kind of animal on display. She blushed a deep purple, but still could not find it in her to try to pull away. The woman's hands were steady and skilled... she could feel fingers massaging oil into every bit of skin they could find, invading her body and making her burn.“Please...” She whispered, looking up with glassy eyes and ragged breath at the girl holding her. She didn't know what she was asking, what she wanted, but she felt like she was about to burst. The girl behind her was now prodding at her lips from behind, moving her hand back and forth between her legs, each motion sending a thrum of pleasure through her clit. She needed more... “Oooh no, little one. You're not for us, I'm afraid. The Captain will be wanting to play with you herself.” The girl grinned. Her tongue flicked out as she leaned in towards her, almost touching her nose, before she drew back again, a look of disappointment crossing her features. “It's a real shame... I'd love to have you to myself.”All at once the two withdrew their hands, which caused an immediate swell of desire run through her skin, through her core. The smell of the oil, the heat, her breath and her heartbeat, all of it was swirling around her and all of a sudden, she was completely bereft of touch. She groaned aloud, a whimpering cry of need as she felt her hands being pulled back behind her again, tied with rope to keep her in place.“She certainly sounds like shes ready for the Captain to play with her.” The gag was pulled back in place, amidst her cries of protest, and the two grasped her by the forearms. Walking was a new torment now, as her body shuddered and tingled, her clit aching with each step.Her knees felt weak and she was light headed and disoriented. Unaware of her surroundings as she was pulled out of the room, practically carried between the two of them.The ship passed her by in a blur as she was lead, half carried, by the two women, the grey and silver ship interior speeding by her. She hardly had the presence of mind to keep track of where she was, until a large door frame loomed in front of them.One of the pirates imputed some commands into the control panel to the right of it, and the doors opened with a whoosh of air into a large and ornate interior.As they whisked her inside, she thought it looked in stark contrast to the haphazard nature of the rest of the ship. It was darker, dimly lit and felt warm and inviting. It was a beautifully furnished living quarters, complete with a bed, a desk and chair, and shelves that were lined with books and baubles.The pirates pulled her in to the room. There was a pole running from the ceiling through the floor quite near to the bed, and they brought her over to it before pushing her to her knees on the ground.She groaned at the sudden movement, eyes widening with confusion as her hands were first untied, and then brought up over her head and tied again. They had fastened the ropes to a hook on the back of the pole.She moved, tugging at the ropes that held her in place. She felt very exposed, as one of them dropped to their knees beside her and tugged her legs apart, to hitch her ankles together behind the pole. She had to arch her back, her whole body stretched out and displayed. Nothing was hidden from view. She squirmed where she knelt, trying to speak through the gag and failing. “Now now... behave yourself. When Captain Viola is finished with your ship, she'll come to deal with you... and I promise, it will be infinitely better if you're a good girl.” Zara felt fingers lace themselves through her hair for a moment, ruffling her curls and then smoothing them out again. Then the woman had stood up again, and peering up at her made Zara feel so very small and vulnerable.And her body still ached for touch. As the two of them left the room and the lights turned out, Zara could feel every inch of her own skin, alive and desperate. The air felt stifling against it, each second that passed only making her more anxious. She needed contact. Touch.Her veins were rushing with heat and desire. She tried to move her legs to get some kind of stimulation but they were held apart by the ropes that bound her. Soon she was whimpering softly into the empty room, her lips and teeth worrying on the cloth that gagged her mouth. How long would she have to wait before the Captain showed up? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When the doors to the room whisked open, Zara started where she knelt. She had been half dozing, the darkness of the room enough to lull her, but her arms were sore and her back was straining.She still couldn't move, and the flurry of fear from earlier flared up in her chest, clenching around her heart. Drool had dampened her chin, soaking the wedge of fabric that was still between her teeth.She could hear footsteps on the ground, though she couldn't turn to see. They made a harsh sound against the floor, the heels clicking hard with each and every step. Tok. Tok. Tok. Every second that passed made Zara's chest restrict, pangs of anxiety running through her as her heart beat aloud a thrum of terror. Her body was trembling again. When the tall figure of the Captain, taller still from this vantage point, came into her line of sight she couldn't help a petrified squeak leap up from her throat.There was such an aura of control around this woman, in the way she walked and the way she carried herself. She smiled down at her, a smile that was every bit as cold as a glare.Zara shivered. She watched as the Captain bent down, hands reaching out towards her, and tugged the gag from her mouth. Her touch surprised her... she was more gentle than she expected her to be.Zara took a few breaths, running her tongue over her now dried lips and adjusting her jaw. The Captain now took a seat on the bed, crossing one leg over the other underneath the large ruffles of her skirt.She leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee, fingers playing on her lips as she looked down at her captive. “Do you know who I am?” Her voice was carefully controlled and calculated, softer in tone now than it had been before, but no less firm. Zara looked up at her face, taking in her sharp features. There were flecks of silver across her cheeks; glitter that gave her an almost fae-like appearance, catching in the low lighting.Zara was still shaking as she thought of what to say. “You introduced yourself.” She pulled at her wrists, arms sore from the restraint, though the ties were loose enough to be comfortable if she didn't resist.A strong impulse to look away, break eye contact, rose up in her as Viola stared her down, but she forced herself to look the Captain in the eye.“Yes...” Captain Viola smiled as she watched her, her gaze scrutinizing her then, fully up and down. Zara felt her nakedness, flushing as she remembered how exposed she was. “But do you know who I am.” “I've heard of the Starfire, yes.” She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice as she spoke. Tried to forget about the way that the pirate girls had touched her, about the heat that was flaring back to life in her skin under the critical eye of the Captain. A violet hue flushed across her cheeks.Captain Viola laughed.“And what have you heard? A lady does like to know what kind of reputation she has.” She rested her chin on her knuckles, leaning in towards to Zara, and Zara could feel her close, so close to her. Her face inches away from her own. The Captain had an amused grin on her lips that just slightly bared her teeth. Predatory. Zara bit her lip, felt her heart begin to beat fast in her chest. She swallowed, her throat dry and sore.“They say that you're brutal and merciless when you attack military ships...” She paused, tilting her head as she regarded the woman before her. “But that you're fair in your dealings with most others, and don't kill civilians unless they cause... trouble.” The stories she had heard said that Elle Viola was a masterful tactician, but also that she wasn't the menace that other pirates could be. Not without provocation.Captain Viola smiled wider, lifting her chin up off of her fingers and reaching out to touch Zara's hair. She let her hand run through the now silky locks, no longer the mess they were earlier, smoothed with oil and perfume. “You're not going to cause trouble, are you?” Zara felt her body shake under the gentle touch. She frowned, pulling her head away.“What do you want with me?” She felt herself sputtering, anxiety thrumming through her veins with every heartbeat. “Why did you take from my ship?” Oh, stars but she wanted to feel that touch again. She forced back the desire, trembling from the strain. She was already having trouble keeping her breathing down. Why did she feel like this?“Oh come now, you can't possibly have anything back there that's worth staying around for.” Captain Viola rolled her eyes, leaning back away from her again and waving a dismissive hand in her direction. “I did you a favour.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Zara frowned at her, wishing for a brief moment that she hadn't pulled away from her touch.“Why.” She pulled again at the restraints that bound her, her legs aching from the lack of movement, and her knees sore. She couldn't move, fixed in place, and she only flushed deeper when she noticed the way the Captain's eye lit up as she observed her discomfort. They all but sparkled as Zara winced from the pain in her legs.“I'm a pirate, darling.” She stood up, slowly stretching her muscles, as though mocking Zara's position kneeling on the ground, driving home her own position of power over her. Zara shrank back from her, feeling the metal bar against her back as she gazed up at the Captain, trying to no avail to move her legs. “I take the spoils I want. Just as I would loot a nice bottle of well aged rum, or an exotic piece of jewellery from some far distant planet worth millions, I also from time to time find myself enamoured with particularly cute girls.”The Captain reached down then, patting her cheek. “And you're very cute. And...” Her hand travelled back to her hair, running her fingers again through the lavender locks, letting them fall against her skin. She looked up in contemplation before she spoke again, a wicked grin spreading on her features, making the glitter on her cheeks shine with an almost sinister sparkle. “I think you'll be even cuter still if I make you scream.”Zara's skin crawled at the threat, her heart beating with apprehension. A shudder ran from the nape of her neck down her spine, her emotions warring within her. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Her flush deepened, afraid of the implications of the Captain's words... but oh, the way she was looking at her. Hungrily. Like she wanted to devour her. It made her tremble.Captain Viola shrugged, stretching back up to full height. “You can certainly take it as one if you like. It makes little difference to me.” She towered over her, letting her hand fall away from her as she turned. Zara strained to watch her as she moved about the room, but the restraints prevented her gaze from following her motions. Captain Viola moved about, not far from her, but Zara could not see what she was doing until she had returned. She'd taken off the eye patch, and Zara could see into both of her eyes, sparkling in the dim lighting.She knelt in front of her, and smiled as she held what looked like some kind of fruit in her direction. “You've had a stressful day. You must be hungry.” Zara could feel her stomach growl at the sight of the fruit. It was a deep blue in colour, with a reddish tint, and was shaped like an oval. It smelled sweet. She could feel her mouth begin to water. The energy bar from earlier had been something, but after the day of strain, not nearly enough. Plus, how long had it been since she'd had real, fresh, organic fruit... She hesitantly leaned forward and opened her mouth. The Captain smiled in approval, and before Zara had truly pro4cessed what was happening the fruit was being brought to her lips. She moved without thinking, taking a bite and letting the juice burst over her tongue. The sweet taste expanded through her mouth, a sweet syrup that reminded her of honey. There were deep, earthy tones, and she found herself almost moaning aloud at how much flavor burst through her senses. The aroma alone was heady and she felt the room spinning as she swallowed.Again she parted her lips and the Captain was feeding the fruit to her, one bite at a time. She let the taste drip over her tongue and could feel the juice dribbling down her chin. Her eyes closed as she ate, greedily sinking her teeth into the fruit. It seemed to fall apart in her mouth, melting as she drew in bite after bite. When the fruit was gone she opened her eyes again to see the Captain peering at her with an intensity that made her shudder. Viola's eyes were all but glimmering as she watched her.“Good girl...” The woman murmured the words before putting her thumb on Zara's lip. She found that her lips parted without a thought, her tongue moving to lap at the juice on the Captain's fingers and draw them into her mouth. She was flushed, and could feel the heat on her face as she watched Captain Viola watching her.The silence was deafening. She could hear her own heart beat, as though time had been slowed, as she closed her lips around the Captain's thumb. Sucked off the juice. The moment felt odd... surreal almost, like she was out of herself.The Captain offered her each finger in turn. She explored her mouth, pressing down on her tongue and reaching inwards, and Zara let out a small whimper as she felt her fingers rolling around, sucking the juice from the fruit off of them, and then felt them push deeper.She felt her stomach turn as her throat constricted, gagging around the intruding fingers for just a moment before they were withdrawn, just as slowly as they had entered her. What in the galaxy...The Captain didn't say a word as she leaned in towards her. She was close, so close, Zara could feel her near her. She felt her lips move to her neck, before her tongue was pressed on her skin, dragging slowly over her, lapping up the spilled juice that had dripped down her chin. She couldn't help but moan as she felt it, warm and wet, moving over her sensitive flesh.She shuddered, shook where she knelt, felt the woman's hands move to grasp her by the waist, fingers gently stroking her and her skin was suddenly thrumming with need. Every touch, every moment since she had been taken rushed back to her and her whole body was aching. She squirmed and panted as she felt firm hands slide over her freshly oiled skin, and the oil began to tingle again.“Ah...” She breathed, unable to stop herself, her heart thumping and her vision swimming. Why, why did the Captain's touch feel so... so good? She was whimpering with every breath now.“What did I say. Cute.” Hands were roaming across her middle, fingers moving gradually upwards. Captain Viola moved to settle herself behind her, her lips close to her neck, words whispered directly into her ear and making her body go cold and hot all at the same time. Zara gasped as hands circled her breasts, grasping them and playing with them, feeling their weight and shape.“So tell me, Zara.” Fingers moved to her nipples, and a sublime kind of pain shot through her as they were roughly pinched. A swell of confusing need and desire rushed through Zara as the Captain pulled outwards at them, her breasts contorting as the nubs were rolled around between clamped finger tips.“What brings you into my sector of space?” Her heart was beating out a rhythm of want, insistently pounding in her chest. She felt like her whole body was going to burst. Teeth lightly grasped her ear, biting along the edges, lips leaving soothing kisses in their wake. It made her feel like she was going to melt. “How long have you been working for IG Express?”“I.. aahh.. “ Zara found it difficult to think, her breath coming in short gasping pants as she felt pressure ebb and build, her breasts pinched and pulled over and over again. Her back arched against the pole, but it only brought her closer to the Captain behind her, who's face was nuzzled up next to her own as she continued to torment her without mercy. “About five yea-years.”One of the Captain's hands released her breast now, and began a slow descent down her front. Zara squirmed under the touch, it felt so good, so very good... She gasped as she felt fingers hooking in between her legs, swirling around her clit with practised ease. Stars, she should be fighting this, resisting somehow, not moaning...“Why did you leave Idrann?” Captain Viola's voice was soft, almost purring now, as she spoke, so casually unaffected while Zara found she could hardly stutter out words.“Wa..wanted to see space. Travel the s-stars... ah!” She cried out as she felt the Captain pull her head back now to rest on her shoulder, while she used her other hand to slide two fingers into her. She could feel Captain Viola's heart beating almost in tandem with her own. All she could hear was the thrum of blood, rushing through her veins. Everything was hot, so so hot..“Oh you do make the most lovely faces.” The Captain whispered into her ear, tongue moving to lap at her with hunger. Zara felt those fingers move in deeper, before her thumb hitched over her clit and began to massage circles around it. “I want to see all of them.” Zara gasped again, her hips moving now of their own volition as she felt those perfectly skilled fingers moving inside of her. “How many faces can I coax out of you? “ Zara's eyes closed as she leaned backwards. Her hands clenched into fists as she tried to find something to ground her, pulling at the restraints that kept her immobile. The Captain's fingers moved, delving into her and then out, massaging her while her other hand wound it's way around her neck, holding her close. She could smell the Captain's perfume, some aromatic scent of flowers and spice.She bucked her hips upwards, limited movements to meet the Captain's hand, desperate to find more pressure and stimulation. Her breath was fast now, panting and whining as she felt fingers clench around her throat. Not hard, just enough to make her gasp for breath as she felt pressure swirling with methodical movements around her clit. She whined, whimpered, keened.“That's it... show me what you look like in ecstasy.” The words whispered into her ear made her shudder. She tried to turn her face in towards the warmth of this woman, this woman who's arms enveloped her and kept her close, but she could not move. She was helpless here, in her grasp, helpless as the waves of pleasure rushed through her.The Captain was now moving faster, her motions in perfect rhythm with Zara's panting moans. Zara felt like the room was closing in on her and she couldn't do anything, couldn't move or resist, could only let herself be carried along in this current. She gasped in agonized pleasure as she felt her climax mounting, felt her face burning hot as she tilted her head back against the Captain. She cried aloud as Captain Viola moved her fingers just so, thumb working her clit as her index finger rolled over her from the inside...And she lost herself.She shouted, her whole body shaking as she rode wave after wave of intense pleasure, throbbing through her. For that moment she could not see the room around her, everything was the Captain, holding her close to her body and delivering with skilled fingers a taste of pure bliss. Zara's entire form shuddered as she gasped and panted for breath.As she came down she felt the Captain's fingers slip from her, and then the hand on her throat moved to stroke her hair. Soothing motions, helping her reground herself, lulling her down from that precipice of euphoria. She was still shaking, trembling and twitching as the world righted itself around her.The Captain moved, shifting herself to be resting in front of her again, and Zara felt suddenly bereft of her nearness, her warmth and her presence. She raised timid eyes to meet the Captain's, and found that there was a smug look of satisfaction resting on her features.Captain Viola held eye contact as she raised her fingers to her lips, and Zara watched in embarrassed fascination as her tongue slowly licked the wetness from them, just as Zara had lapped up the juices from the fruit. The Captain's tongue was long, obscenely so, and Zara's blush deepened as she found herself wondering what that tongue might feel like all over her body. “So...” Zara began after a shakey breath, as her mind returned to clarity and her body began to still. “I'm here to be your whore then, is that it?” She still felt the heat upon her cheeks as she spoke, determined to put up a brave face even after all that had occurred. Would Captain Viola be expecting her to return the favour now? Reciprocate?The Captain leaned back, her hands on her knees, and laughed at that. Her laughter was brazen and full of self assurance, and Zara felt somehow even smaller as she laughed. She made a tsking noise before she shook her head and responded. “Now now. I do want you to think of yourself a little more highly than all that. Think of yourself as...” She looked thoughtful for a moment before she smiled, a slow and decided smile. “...my pet.”Zara's mouth went dry as she thought about that. “That's... not better.” She muttered the words, but wasn't convinced of them. Her voice was small and hesitant. The Captain's deliberate choice of description of her position here on her ship felt both more degrading than she feared... but also less. Pets were beloved. They were also, in no uncertain terms, lesser than.Captain Viola shrugged, looking unperturbed by Zara's small protest. She reached forward towards her captive, and Zara felt her fingers at her wrists. “Suit yourself.” She untied her wrists, carefully bringing them back down off of the pole. Zara reclaimed them, pulling them in to her chest as she massaged the soreness out of them, watching her move to untie her legs and tail.“Now, we've already left your ship well behind.” Captain Viola spoke as she worked, and Zara felt her heart thumping as she waited, processing her captor's words. “There's nowhere for you to run. So I suggest you behave yourself, and we'll get along just fine.” She stood up after Zara was completely freed from the restraints, leaving her still kneeling on the ground. She gestured to the bed, which looked cozy and inviting. “You can take a nap if you like, the bed is warm. I have some business to take care of still.”Before Zara could say anything further in reply, she felt lips pressed to her forehead. Her eyes widened as the Captain once again patted her cheek, a gesture both possessive and affectionate. Zara found a swell of emotion welling up within her, and she wasn't sure what to think about it. The Captain winked at her before turning towards the door to the room. “Be good.” Those last words pronounced with a sing-song lilt, and then she was gone, and the doors were shut behind her. Zara was alone in the room once again, though this time without the restraints holding her cruelly in place.She slowly rose to her feet, her tail moving out to balance her. She breathed a sigh of relief; it had been hours since her tail had been mobile, and she swished it quickly back and forth to coax life back into the limb. Then she moved towards the bed, fatigue and curiosity overtaking her as she did so. It was tall, for someone of her height, but Captain Viola was very tall compared to her kind. She had to jump to launch herself up onto it, and found that the Captain had not lied. It was indeed warmed, a low humming coming from somewhere in the mattress and heating the covers.Zara couldn't help herself from burrowing into those covers, diving into them headfirst and turning in a circle to create a kind of nest of the warm blankets. This... wasn't so bad. She felt the heat lulling her off, drowsiness overcoming her in waves of comfort and satisfaction. The scent of sweet spices lingered in the sheets, surrounding her.Soon she was fast asleep. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Elle settled into the command chair on the bridge. Lex was standing to the right, holding a datatab in hand. The broad shouldered woman smiled as she came in, watching her take a seat and admire the view of the stars that whisked past the ship. In lightspeed, the stars blurred into bright lines of white that made trails and contours. She had always thought it was beautiful, all that raw energy. Pure power. “Talk to me. What kind of haul did we get?” She looked towards Lex out of the corner of her eye. A rather satisfied smile rested on her lips, still smug and excited at the victory of the day. She could still feel that cute little alien girl squirming under her hands, writhing at her touch. Could hear her gasps and moans in her ears. She was glad she had left Lex to catalogue the goods. Lex's smile was of course as knowing as always, no doubt guessing what was in her Captain's mind. “Pretty good one.” She tapped her fingers on the datatab, bringing up a projection of the information. Lists of stolen goods, all in order. “They were en route to a pretty ritzy hotel on Dangor. The spices alone are worth a nice amount of credits.” Elle leaned forward and had a look through the list. Spices, foodstuffs, fabric. Useless but expensive baubles. The rosy glow of the projection moved through countless items that the merchant ship had been carrying. She quirked a brow as she mentally catalogued each item, and how much she could likely get for them through her connections. “Looks like the hotel will be missing a shipment. I can probably turn a better profit on those than the actual merchant ship would have anyways. Black market pays better.” She winked, waving aside the tedious lists. She would have to pour over them in more detail later. “Anything else?” Lex nodded, making a few more tapping movements against the datatab, minimizing the projections and pulling up a new one. This one was simply lists of numbers, a spreadsheet that kept all of the Starfire's credits up to date. “Good amount of credits for the Starfire's coffers. I think our crew should be more than pleased with this turn over. This is the detailed report. I'll have it sent to you right away, along with the others.” Elle looked them over, tallying the credits and mentally estimating how much per crew member the totals would work out to. She had, of course, to factor in repairs and maintenance for the ship, but it was substantial enough an amount that she figured she could afford to get the ship looked at and still have plenty left over for the crew. And this was, of course, before she had even sold off most of the stolen merchandise. She smiled, satisfied with the results. “Excellent.” She sat back in the chair, resting her elbows on the arms. A lock of curled hair fell over her shoulder, and without thinking she moved a hand to twirl a strand of it around her finger. “It's been a profitable day. Anything else I should know?”\| At that, Lex powered down the datatab, the projection screen going dormant once again. Then she moved to a control panel on the other side of the room, passing behind Elle's Captain's seat. Her large form moved through the room with ease. Hands reached out to press some buttons on the panel, and the view of the stars darkened to show a map of star charts. Their own current location was pinpointed, as well as the locations of several other ships.“It does look like the IG Express managed to send out a call to the authorities quicker than we anticipated.” The enemy ship's icons were blinking, a bright white circle around them where they sat on the chart. “We have their communications logs, and although we did have them substantially off course, they sent a distress signal that has now been picked up.” The screen blinked, changing to a read out of the merchant ship's logs.Elle frowned, her brows narrowing as she took in that bit of information. That was... unfortunate. She had hoped that she had cut off their means of such communications in time, but... well. Things didn't always go exactly according to plan, now did they? She leaned her jaw on her hand, fingers playing along her lips.“Which authorities are we talking about here?” There was no universal, galactic authority, not really, even if some touted to be. And which authorities had picked up the distress signal of the merchant ship would make a big difference in how she would play this. They were close enough to a few systems that it could be one of a few different local law enforcements.“The Sheer system's authorities. They aren't well known for a particularly sizable military force, but they could cause some problems.” Lex didn't sound concerned. She was professional as always, dutifully reporting the facts as Elle needed them. She was right, as well. Sheer wouldn't be a large threat, but any threat was a threat worth taking seriously. Especially if they were frustrated enough to call for aid from the Allied Forces.“How close are they again? Let me see the chart.” As she spoke Lex manipulated the view screen, and it turned back to the star chart, showing the exact locations of the ships once more. Elle studied it carefully, taking in the surrounding systems and the star routes that were currently available to them.“They're right on our trail. Unless we go stealth, they should have caught up to us in about two days standard time.” They could, of course, go stealth. The ship had those capabilities. They could cloak, double back the way they came, hide on the far side of one of Sheer's moons. The military could end up missing them entirely. But...“Let's not go stealth.” Elle's voice took on an amused lilt as she looked at the screen. “I think I'd prefer to have some fun with them. And I think the crew would enjoy it as well. Attacking merchants is a good pay out but not very exciting.”She grinned, a playful light sparkling in her eyes as she thought about it. It had been some time since her crew had been in a real fight. Her smile took on a predatory gleam. “Let's instead lead them on a bit of a chase. Let them catch up.”She leaned forwards, elbows on the chair and clasped her chin in her hands. She was already mentally calculating which routes would be best to take to lead their military friends on an excursion. It had been some time since she had gotten into a squabble with law enforcement, and she relished the idea of truly unleashing some ferocity.Lex nodded, and the screen once again returned to a view of the stars that stretched out before the ship like an endless ocean of glitter dust. “As you wish, Captain.” A slow smile crept over her second in command's face as she turned towards her, moving a little closer. She had her brow cocked in a playful grin. “If I may... how is your new pet faring? It's been some time since you've taken a captive.”Elle smiled, casually leaning over the chair, unfolding her arms as she did so. Fingers brushed a button on the arm, almost with affection, calling up a small view screen built into the chair. The screen showed her room, centred on her bed, and the girl who was currently cocooned in the blankets, sleeping. She couldn't help but grin.“Why? Are you jealous?” She wouldn't be surprised. Zara was quite possibly the cutest thing she had seen in a very long time... Cirin were a rather endearing species already, small and with white skin and purple stripes. But Zara specifically had a personality that she was quickly finding intoxicating. The attempts at acting tough, the fear that coursed through her and made her tremble. The way she blushed violet to match her hair, which was short and in an unruly mess of tangled locks. She looked up at Lex with a knowing smirk. “I'm sure we can find you an equally adorable little thing. Perhaps on the military ship? A soldier would prove a good challenge for you, Lex.” She wiggled her eyebrows at her first mate, who matched her grin with one of her own.“Maybe I'm more intrigued by yours.” Lex drawled the words, casually drawing out each syllable as her eyes moved to the view screen. Zara moved in her sleep, her lips stretching into a wide yawn as she turned over. She looked so peaceful, so serene. Elle couldn't decide if she liked her better like this... or if she'd prefer her screaming. “I might be inclined to share her... later.” She knew that Lex's suggestion was only half joking... her first mate wouldn't overstep her boundaries, of course, but the way she looked at the sleeping figure on the viewer made it clear she might think about it. Not that she could blame her. Elle's own eyes were glued to the view screen for the moment, an almost wistful sound in her voice. “I want to get to know the dear thing a little first.”Lex knew better than to expect anything, regardless of what she may or may not fantasize about. She nodded, a respectful smile on her lips and a telling glimmer in her eye. “Of course you do.”Elle continued, thoughtful as she spoke. “She blushes easily.” That was more than true, and something Elle had always enjoyed in her lovers. She took in the girl's calm and restful features as she mulled over what to do with her newly acquired captive. “I think I'd like to see how she looks well and truly flustered.” A poof of fluff poked out from the covers as Zara's tail moved, curling up and around her waist over the blankets.The authorities on their trail were sure to be extra dedicated if they knew she had not just stolen goods, but a stolen crew member. That almost made the soon approaching chase all the more exciting. Before she was done with the little cirin, she fully expected that the captive would no longer have any desire to leave.
11328555	i meet you dreaming	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Twenty-Fifth Baam \| Jyu Viole Grace, Koon Aguero Agnis, Original Female Character(s)", "Fandom": "신의 탑 \| Tower of God", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by JThistle", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-28T00:00:00", "words": "7,776", "Additional Tags": "Self-Insert", "Relationship": "Twenty-Fifth Baam \| Jyu Viole Grace/Original Character(s)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "where you were the sun", "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 }	She appears in a flash of light, sleeping -- it’s not something Bam would have an easy time describing. He’s returning from the rice pot, and the train has been getting hotter and hotter, an oppressive heat that leaves him slightly damp, more tired than he would have been otherwise. There’s an uncomfortable warmth to his chest, as though, were he to put his hand over his heart, he would feel the billions of souls housed inside of him, still screaming. When he first received that power, when he first fought Hoaqin, he thought that screaming had stopped; he’d felt it then, for a moment -- all the bitterness, the resentment, and he had accepted it, because who wouldn’t want to avenge themselves on the monster who had so shamelessly used his power to silence them forever? But then the bitterness was gone; the resentment had left him lighter than before, not heavier. He’d thought he’d soothed all those millions of screaming souls, and yet. . . . He’d only silenced them. These are the thoughts in his head when the train flashes, briefly, like a heartbeat, and for a moment he thinks it’s just his imagination, just the trampled souls in his body, but then it happens again, and he stops walking, and the train compartment around him lights up, as though it has veins, and a heartbeat, and there’s a strange smell, for a moment, like the ocean, like the wind. He starts walking without even realizing it -- there’s something familiar about that wind, about the light, but it’s been almost a decade and it takes him a moment to place it, to remember the light that swallowed up Rachel, and then swallowed him, and he’s running before he realizes it either. There’s another door at the end of the compartment, and he ducks through it. He’s not sure why he’s running -- the thought rises unbidden in his heart and he pushes it down, but he can’t go back, there’s nothing to go back to, Rachel is never coming back -- but the ceiling is higher than anything he remembers seeing in the train, maybe higher than the rice pot, and the light is spinning together; if he looks closely, he can make out a double helix, like DNA, but it whirls and eddies and it’s magic, more magical than anything he’s done with shinsoo. It’s the hope that Rachel must have felt when he opened the door and she fell through. It’s so stupid, but. . . for a moment, he just wants to feel it, the rising nostalgia in his heart, the brief memory of what it felt like to believe in possibilities instead of obligations. He waits for her; he doesn’t know what to expect, at first, but he knows someone’s coming into the tower; he knows they’ll be as lost and alone as he was, so he waits, and slowly, she drifts into focus, light buried in her dark hair like stars, tracing along her jawline like morning sunlight. She’s beautiful, in that moment, though Bam has never really known what beautiful was meant to be, and when the light fades, he still thinks she’s pretty -- not in the same way as Endorssi or Ehwa, where people would get mad at him for talking to them so easily, or Yuri, where it’s something that exists. . . despite all the trouble and hassle she goes through to discard it. The girl floating before him is sleeping, so it might be his imagination, but there’s a gentle grace to the way her head is tilted in the remains of the door, a simple elegance he can’t put his finger on, and he reaches out, and she drifts into his arms like a ghost, or a fallen leaf in the middle of autumn. She’s heavy, when she settles against him, heavy and real, and his heart is pounding -- not because of something silly, like falling in love at first sight or being saved, not like with Rachel, but rather with the ache of so many screaming voices inside of him, the bittersweet taste of magic, the smell of her hair, like vanilla and sugar and something heady and soft. Her breathing is slow, and deep, and he feels his own breathing slow to match hers. He holds her closer, then, crouching down so that for a moment she’s settled in his lap, while he tucks her legs over his arm, and wraps his other arm more securely around her shoulders. It’s not like he can leave her there -- but as her head leans against his shoulder again, he feels his breath hitch, as though he’d been running a lot farther than through a room or two in a train. He has to close his eyes, for a moment, and for that moment he can pretend -- everything with Rachel never happened; everything with FUG is far away, and there’s someone in his arms who makes him feel safe. But it’s silly and hopeless, and he opens his eyes again, taking a deep breath, and exhaling in time with her. There are a million souls screaming inside of him, and he can’t hear himself over them, and there’s a girl in his arms and he just feels so tired. Of course he can’t leave her there -- so he stands, slowly, careful not to disturb her. He has to retrace his steps a little, and as he walks, he keeps expecting her to wake up anyway. He remembers how Ehwa stirred in his arms, but this girl doesn’t do the same thing. She just keeps sleeping. He can still smell her -- he’s not sure if it’s her shampoo or just the smell of her skin. Maybe a perfume? She’s dressed -- black pants, and a heavy gray sweater that’s too hot for the heat of the train, especially with her thick brown hair. Bam is still sweating just from the walk between the rice pot and where he’d left everyone before, but she doesn’t seem to sweat as they walk. He wonders if that’s a bad sign, but there’s nothing he can do until he gets there, and he doesn’t want to disturb her. He could fly, but he doesn’t want to risk dropping her, and it’s hard to steer the oar when he doesn’t have his hands free, so he just keeps walking. It’s a little more peaceful this way; she’s sleeping, so he doesn’t have to worry about hiding anything, but it’s harder to dwell when he’s carrying someone, and . . . he feels a bit more helpful, like he’s a bit better of a person. (It’s silly.) He doesn’t meet anyone on the way back to the room he’d been sharing with Kun and Rak, and Kun looks up when he enters. It suddenly occurs to him that it’s a little strange -- Kun’s eyes rest on the face of the girl for just a moment, before he refocuses on Bam. “Bam, you’re back!” Kun says, right away, and Bam can only nod. Kun doesn’t seem to know where to go from there -- his eyes flick to Bam’s face, to the girl, to Bam’s face again, and he asks, “Is everything alright?” “Yeah,” Bam says, “I couldn’t leave her behind.” “Did you get into a fight?” Rak demands, “Who dared to attack my turtles?” Bam isn’t surprised that Rak seems to already include this strange girl in his group. Rak is like an overeager father, always inviting people into his family, and Bam almost smiles about it. There are a million souls screaming in his heart. His grip on the strange girl tightens. “Bam. . . ?” Kun asks. “No, there wasn’t a fight,” Bam replies, and forces himself to smile properly, “I found her sleeping in one of the compartments, and . . . she didn’t seem to have a camp set up or anything. I couldn’t leave her there . . . .” “There are monsters on the train,” Kun agrees, and Bam feels his shoulders relax, a little; the girl’s forehead settles against his neck, and it’s damp with sweat. “I think she’s too hot though. . .” Bam continues, “I don’t know what to do. . . .” “Maybe if we get Yuri or Ehwa. . .” Kun suggests, “They might be able to do something about her clothes, at least.” Rak has crossed the room, peering anxiously up at Bam, and Bam looks down at the girl in his arms. Her shoulders are a bit broader than Ehwa’s or Yuri’s, and she seems a lot shorter than Bero Bero. . . . “Do you think anyone will have clothes that fit her. . . ?” he asks. Kun seems to consider this. “Well. . .” he says, “For now we should put her down. She’ll probably be more comfortable in a bed than being carried. . . .” It’s true. Bam smiles and nods, as though he doesn’t feel any reluctance to set her down, and crosses the room, brushing past Rak. Rak tails after him, and when Bam looks back, he can see that the crocodilian is walking like he’s a bodyguard, even though there’s nothing to attack them in their room. As long as he’s having fun, Bam supposes, and settles the girl on his mattress; her grey sweater has ridden up a little from the walk, and reveals a kind of dingy white shirt underneath . . . and what looks like another black sweater. “. . . Maybe we should get Yuri and Ms. Ewha after all,” he says; Kun appears by his side, and Bam tugs at the hem of the girl’s sweater, “I think she has a lot of layers on. . . .” “But it would be weird for a guy to do something about that,” Kun agrees, not needing Bam to finish the thought. Bam nods, and Kun peers at him. “Are you sure you’re okay . . . ?” he asks. Bam nods again, looking over his shoulder at his best friend. “Yeah,” he says, and doesn’t say anything about the million souls screaming in his chest, “I’m just tired.” Kun doesn’t seem convinced, so Bam says, “I’ll go get Yuri and Ms. Ehwa. Then . . . I might go to bed early.” “You just gave your bed away, though,” Kun points out. “I can sleep on the floor between you and Mr. Rak,” Bam says, quickly; Kun seems doubtful, but Rak waves his hands to get their attention. “I can sleep in the middle,” he says, “You should take better care of yourself, black turtle!” “Are you sure. . . ?” Kun says, as though he’s going to offer to sleep on the floor next. Rak crosses his arms over his chest. “Yes!” he says, adamantly, “I want to sleep in the middle tonight!” There is no persuading Rak otherwise when he gets this way. Bam smiles a little, but it’s hard, and Kun sighs, “Alright then. Don’t complain about it in the morning.” “I never complain!” Rak insists. Bam reaches over, to the girl sleeping in his bed, and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, “Then I’ll be back,” he says. Something about the way he says it makes a strange look pass over Kun’s features, but he’s not sure how to decipher it before it’s gone. “You rest,” Kun says, “I’ll go get Yuri and Ehwa.” Bam is grateful to sit down, and Kun nods at him before turning to leave. Rak glances at Bam for a long moment, before following Kun out the door, and Bam’s alone, except for the strange girl in his bed.. He wants to lay down, but Yuri and Ehwa will be their shourly, so he just leans against the head of the bed, looking at the girl. “You probably won’t be anything like her,” he says, and saying it out loud is as much a relief as it is painful. He doesn’t want to force anyone to be Rachel; he doesn’t want anyone else, either, just Rachel, “I wonder what you will be like. . . .” But there’s not much else to say; a moment later, the door slides open again, and Yuri chases him out of the room. He waits outside, avoiding saying anything to Kun or Rak that would make them worry more than they have to, and when Yuri lets them back in, she lectures him. “She should sleep in a room with the other girls,” she says, and Rak immediately argues -- they’ve already figured out the sleeping arrangements, and both of his turtles are well behaved; no one among them would touch a girl without her request, or permission -- they would never lay a hand on a sleeping woman, except to save her from danger. Yuri seems to accept it, but Bam’s pretty sure she just doesn’t want to move the girl any more than they already have.“We should get some sleep,” Bam says, as soon as Yuri has departed; the door slides open easily, and he hopes neither Kun nor Rak notice how he starts when he sees the girl in his bed. Yuri had taken off her gray sweater and the black one underneath it, and now they were folded up next to the girl’s feet, which had socks but no shoes. (Come to think of it, that was a little strange -- Bam has to wonder what had happened to her shoes.) “Bam. . .” Kun says, and Bam looks at him. Kun doesn’t seem to know what he wants to say after that. “We have to take that Kaiser guy’s name tomorrow at this station,” Bam says, trying to be firm so he can convince himself, rather than trying to convince Kun. As he walks to the bed, he makes a big show of stretching his arms over his head, “Ah, I’m so tired.” Kun seems to buy it; there aren’t any more questions, and the lights go out pretty quickly. Kun and Rak both seem pretty tired too. Pretty soon, Rak’s snores fill the room, peaceful as snores can be; Kun’s breathing evens out shortly afterwards. Kun never falls asleep before Rak, as though he takes some comfort in the reminder of his friends’ presence. Bam stays awake; he tries to clear his mind, think of something other than the blue demon in the rice pot, other than the million souls he was trampling over at that very minute. I’m going to find out what it means to be an irregular, he reminds himself, I’m going to make sure no one else has to be sacrificed. But there are sacrifices inside of him, and he lets them suffer. Sleep is elusive, even when he closes his eyes, focuses on the breathing of his friends, of the strange girl from outside of the tower. All he can think about is screaming. She was still sleeping when they woke up, and she slept through them getting dressed and ready. Bam finger-combed his hair while Kun fought with his hair straightener (Kun’s hair was so curly and so thick that straightening it was always a battle of nearly epic proportions); Rak tried to sneak a few bananas into the lighthouse (an equally epic story of true love, if only Kun would let them be.) “If she’s slept through all of that, she probably won’t be waking up any time soon,” Kun said, snapping the hair straightener closed and unplugging it from his lighthouse; that seemed to be the end of it in his book, because he undid all of Rak’s hard work with banana smuggling and headed out to Yuri’s last minute briefing. Bam settled on Rak’s bed, looking at the girl. She seemed so lonely like that -- he’d have to ask Yuri to look out for her. How much was it okay to meddle with those sorts of things? It couldn’t be bad to do this now though; the sleeping girl couldn’t take care of herself, and he worried about waking her. If she was sleeping this much, she must have needed it. He reached out, placing the back of his hand against her forehead gently, but she didn’t seem feverish or sweaty anymore -- her skin was cool and dry.“I’ll be back soon,” he told her, like it would matter, “It’s only a couple of days.” She turned her head into his hand, and he turned it so his fingers could push her hair back, burying themselves in it. Her hair was still hot, reflecting the heat from the train, so it felt like reaching into the sun, “Stay safe, okay? If you wake up, don’t get into any trouble.” She probably couldn’t understand him even if she were awake; without a Pocket, everything he said would just sound like gibberish. But Evan and Yuri would be on the train still, so even if he hadn’t told them where the girl came from, he was sure they’d take good care of her. “Yuri and Mr. Evan are really nice,” he said, “They’ll take good care of you. So wake up soon, okay? It’s really hot, and you’ll need to drink lots of water.” As he stood, he wondered for a moment what she would think of him when she woke up. Nothing weird -- just if she’d think he was nice, or if she’d think he was pushy. If she’d run away the way Rachel had, or find him like Kun always did. But it was kind of a strange thought, and he settled for straightening her hair again before leaving the room. He was glad that Yuri had already rearranged the rooms by the time he got back. “We figured we could use more space,” he heard her tell Kun, but what it really meant was that he could brood and think dangerous thoughts without trying to hide them from Kun. Not that he was being subtle; he could hear Kun worrying on the other side of the door. The girl was still sleeping in his bed; it might not even really have been the same bed he was sleeping in before, but he had claimed the room she was in instinctively. She was part of his world now, and she was asleep, so it wasn’t like she could look at him with eyes that said he didn’t know enough, or that he was making all the wrong choices, or whatever it was, exactly, that filled Kun’s eyes whenever Bam did something dangerous. Something beyond fear or concern, like it didn’t matter if anyone else died as long as Bam was safe. But it was the opposite. It was the other way around -- it didn’t matter if Bam died as long as no one got hurt. It didn’t matter if Bam was suffering as long as he could make everyone else happy. Because Bam would never be happy -- he wasn’t dumb enough to think that anymore. Bam would never really be okay, and he’d never really let go of Rachel, or really make the right choices. He wasn’t clever like Kun, and he wasn’t alive the same way Kun was, satisfied by accomplishments and safety, and. . . and. . . . If he were a god, none of it would matter. He could save everyone. He could keep everyone. He could even probably have Rachel, even though he’d never really have her back, even though the parts of her he wanted most would always belong to the stars. He stared at the bed, mostly because it was what was right in front of him, and the path he needed to walk was, for a moment, crystal clear. He needed to get as much power as he could; he needed to become a god, like Jinsung promised him all those years ago, only Jinsung wasn’t there anymore and he wasn’t going back to FUG, even if he relied on them a little at the Name Hunt Station. There was the God of Guardians, though; Bam had already become much stronger in the Rice Pot, and it stood to reason that there was more power than what the God of Guardians has shown him so far. He’d convince the God of Guardians, and then. . . . After that, it’s a little murky, but he’d do whatever it took to protect everyone. He wouldn’t lose anyone the way he’d lost Ehwa and Rak, ever again. “I’m going to be gone for a while,” he told the girl in his bed; he staggered to his feet -- it was only then that he realized how long he must have been sitting, with his back against the door, staring at nothing. “I’ll be back,” he said, and then, because he was feeling petty and selfish, he said, “Don’t wake up before then.” Then he stopped, watching her for a moment. She still hadn’t had anything to drink or eat since he found her, and he didn’t. . .actually know how long this would take. Gently, he reached down, running his fingers through her hair; it was silly -- he didn’t know her, but he knew she couldn’t save him, that there wasn’t really anything to save him from, not anymore. “I didn’t mean that,” he said, “Wake up soon, please. Mr. Kun, and Mr. Evan and Yuri. . .they’ll take good care of you while I’m gone.” He did want to be the first person to get the chance to meet her. . . but he couldn’t be. She needed to wake up, and he needed to become stronger, and these things both needed to happen now. There wasn’t room for doing one first and then doing the other. He twisted her hair around his fingers, briefly, and then let go. “I’ll be back,” he promised again, “You won’t be alone, okay?” It did not occur to him that it might not be the most appropriate course of action to keep touching her until he did get back, not sure what to think or what to do anymore, and Kun was sitting on his bed, next to her. It didn’t seem like Kun was interested in speaking to an unconscious girl the way Bam had been, but Bam still felt something twist in his heart. Not jealousy or anger or anything like that -- there was no room for it, when Kun immediately started in on him -- but maybe something more like anxiety. “You’re back, Bam,” Kun said again, like he did when Bam first brought this strange girl home, and Bam could barely get out his name in greeting before he continued, pushing himself to his feet, “Looks like you were in the rice pot. Isn’t that right?” "Yeah. . .” Bam said, and wondered why he suddenly felt a little ashamed. Kun crossed the room to him, leaning forward so looking him in the eye was unavoidable. “How sad. . .” he said, and Bam wanted to protest, if he could get a word in edgewise, but there was something bitter about the way Kun said it, “Trying to get more powerful by yourself. . .” Maybe it was sad, but there’s something about the way Kun said it, like he was clinging to the sadness of it, like he was trying to say something else, that had Bam stumbling, “No, that’s. . .” “When I look at you sometimes, it worries me that you would just wander off and leave us someday,” Kun carried on; that explained it, maybe, “So at least tell us when you go somewhere.” Kun’s smile was fake; Bam wasn’t good at telling when people are being fake -- at least, not as good as Kun is -- but even he could tell, and he wished he knew what he could say, “Mr. Kun. . . .” “So that I can give chase any time,” Kun said, and Bam wanted to say something, anything, but he didn’t know what and before he could really figure it out, Endorssi was calling to him, storming in, “Hey, Bam! Where did you run off to without saying a word? You haven’t even eaten! I was worried about you!” He could only get out her name now, “Ms. Endorssi. . .” She strode closer, “Plus, do you have any idea what I’m going through right now?” Bam had no idea what she was going through; it hadn’t occurred to him to wonder about her relationship with Ehwa or Rak. Kun gave a little sigh, as though he knew what was coming, and Endorssi pointed her finger at him, “That lady from the Ha family keeps watching me with some weird toy. . . .” Yuri’s voice, distorted and tinny, suddenly chimed in, “Bam! You’re back!” The weird toy Endorssi was talking about must be the snakelike robot with Yuri’s hair and ribbons and painted red eyes, who burst in now and continued in Yuri’s voice, “Why are you being so clingy to Bam, Endorssi? I warned you to stay away from him!” “How did you find me again?” Endorssi gasped, and she seemed, for a moment, truly frightened. Bam did feel a little bad for her. He hadn’t thought he was away for that long. . . . “Come to my room right now,” Yuri’s voice said, through the robot, “Or I’ll come and get you.” “Is that Yuri’s voice?” Bam asked, but no one answered; too much seemed to be going on. “Shut up!” Endorssi said, and ran, “Do you think I’m going to listen to you?! I’ll never go!” She was out the door in a moment, but the robot only followed her. “Bam,” Kun said, firmly. Bam turned to him, still wondering what to think of everything. “Ehwa, the alligator, and that swordsman kid are probably all still alive and safe,” Kun said; he didn’t sound like he believed it so much as he wanted Bam to, but honestly. . . Bam would take any hope he could get, “So don’t worry too much. What we have to do now is not worry about those guys. We need to survive until they come back. They’re not ones who’d die so easily, right? Especially that alligator punk. . .” Bam was probably just letting himself be convinced, but he agreed anyway, “. . . Yeah.” There was a flash of light from his bed; for a moment, he thought the girl he found had woke up, but Endorssi’s voice rang out, “Bam!” “Why does she keep showing up. . . ?” Kun asked, sounding very tired. “Endorssi?” Bam asked; his covers had flown everywhere, but all the strange girl seemed to have done was roll over. For a moment, he had to wonder if she was related to Cherry La or Lauroe, despite being an irregular. . . . “Hey you!” Endorssi said, “I”m just going to say one more thing before I leave because I’m so frustrated! Stop acting like its’ the end of the world just because a few of your companions are gone for a minute! Some of them may have left your side for a moment but there are also people like me who have returned to your side, you know? Right? You’re also someone whom some people want to protect! So please be safe, for god’s sake!” She took a deep breath, and caught herself, turning away, “Well, I’m not going to say I’m. . .the one who wants to protect you. . . . Just take care of yourself! This is an order! Now get some rest!” She started running just in time; Yuri’s strange robot arrived to chase her out and then left Bam to consider her words. It did seem like Endorssi also believed Ehwa and Rak might be okay. . . but his mind stuttered over the idea of someone wanting to protect him. No, rather. . . . Endorssi wanted to protect him. . . ? It’s a strange thought, but things quieted down now that she’d said what she had to say. Kun sighed as Bam crossed the room. The girl seemed to be okay, and he pulled the covers up over her, smoothing her hair out again. “Are you planning on giving her your bed again tonight?” Kun asked; Bam was still thinking about Endorssi’s words. If she wanted to protect him, why did she try to steal his name and make him her servant at the Name Hunt Station, and why did she want to be enemies so badly? But at the same time. . . . It was a nice thought. “Huh?” he asked. “Since she’s not awake,” Kun indicated the girl in Bam’s bed, and Bam felt his heart stutter, suddenly; she was his responsibility, so it was natural to give her his bed, right? But the way Kun asked, he seemed to think it was excessive. . . . “I did find her. . .” Bam said, looking away from them both, “So I can sleep somewhere else.” Kun sighed, but when Bam glanced at him, he was smiling, “I hope she wakes up soon. I’m sure she’d want to say thank you.” And he left, just like that. There was definitely a strange feeling in Bam’s chest; it was strange enough to drown out the souls and the worry, and he sank down on to his bed, next to the girl from outside the tower. The thought of Kun and Endorssi worrying about him, and Endorssi wanting him to be safe, and Kun wanting to chase him . . . a stranger he didn’t even know yet wanting to say thank you. . . . He was careful not to touch her again -- the anxiety from the thought of Kun being familiar with her too reminded him that she was a stranger, and he didn’t know how she’d feel about being touched, and he didn’t know how he’d feel about someone else touching her that way -- or what it meant. She wasn’t Rachel, he didn’t know her. It was a silly thing to be upset over. But he found her first. Sighing, he flopped down next to her, careful not to touch her. Her breathing was even -- she seemed like she was doing better than when he found her at first, and he felt guilty, for a moment. He shouldn’t have left her when she was in that state, before the Name Hunt Station. But what else was he supposed to do? Yuri wanted to be sure he could handle himself on the Floor of Death, and he needed to go there. He didn’t have anything left to chase, other than Rachel. He lay there like that, staring at the ceiling; she was so still when she slept that if he hadn’t been listening to her breathing -- his own chest rising and falling in the same rhythm -- he wouldn’t have known she was there at all. Kun and Rak both tossed and turned -- Kun was fitful, Rak was restless -- and Bam wondered if he slept the same way, or if he slept like her. For that matter, if she normally slept like this, or if it was something else. “Shinsoo,” he said, out loud, and turned to look at her. Her face was close, and even turned away, it had a strange effect on him, so he kept speaking, staring earnestly at her closed eyes. He used to lay like this with Rachel, sometimes, but it hadn’t felt the same way, “Are you too sensitive to the shinsoo?” But why would the door open on a floor that was too powerful for her? She should have arrived at the first floor, like he and Rachel did. Part of him was glad -- Headon was probably not the kindest of people Bam had met in his time in the tower. There was something about the faerie guardian that seemed dangerous, even as he gave Bam nicknames and promised him riches. No, he was glad that she was fighting a more mundane fight. The door wouldn’t have left her somewhere she wouldn’t survive. He closed his eyes, turning away from her so that he could let his breathing stop catching so terribly in his throat, and then resumed staring at the ceiling. Like that, it could almost be the cave, and she could almost be Rachel. But he didn’t want to replace Rachel. He had to sit up, then, and he looked at her. “You’re probably dangerous too,” he said, “Or in danger. FUG would want to recruit you so they could use you to kill Jahad, or . . . maybe you’d rampage through the tower like Mr. Phantaminium. If you ever wake up.” He didn’t want to leave her, or he didn’t want to face Kun and Endorssi. Besides, they both told him to rest, right? But he couldn’t sleep in the same bed as her. . . . She didn’t seem dangerous; when she wakes up, she’ll definitely need to be protected. Bam thought about the movie he went to with Endorssi a couple years ago, and the way the hero had protected his friends. Bam had wanted to be the hero, then. He’d looked up to him, and thought it would be amazing to have that kind of power, to never give in. He wondered if the girl in his bed would feel the same way, or if she’d want to be protected. . . . “Ms. Endorssi . . . sounded like she meant she wanted to protect me,” he told her, “But I can’t let her. I’m stronger than everyone here, so I have to be the one who protects them. If I don’t. . .” He’d be letting them down; the girl stirred, as though she could hear him, or as though she sensed his worries, and he hurried to put a brave face on for her. He was a mess. With a groan, he buried his head in his hands; she couldn’t hear him. Anything he’d thought she was reacting to was his imagination, and yet. . . and yet. . . he needed to be stronger than this. Maybe he’d sleep on the floor; then he didn’t have to face Kun or Endorssi, and he wasn’t sleeping in the same bed as a stranger. Having decided that, he swung his legs back out of the bed, pulling the extra covers from the foot of it, and then straightening the sheets over her. It was getting a little colder, though. . . . It would probably be best if he gave her at least one more blanket. Looking at her, sleeping there peacefully, he had to swallow before he summoned up the courage to toss one of the blankets over her again. There was no way he could tuck her in properly, but he straightened it over her as best as he could, and then let himself sink slowly to the floor. Was this the kind of reaction Ehwa had been hoping for on the twentieth floor? Probably not -- the situation was a lot different then, and if he’d had this kind of reaction, he’d probably have made her really uncomfortable. But he probably made her uncomfortable anyway. . . . It was no use thinking about all of this. He spread out the blankets from his bed, and pulled his shirt off to make a makeshift pillow. It really was getting colder, but once he pulled the blankets up over his shoulders, he thought it was alright. She should be warm. It’s the last thing he remembered thinking before everything went dark and silent. He didn’t dream -- not really -- and he woke up half uncovered, facing the ceiling of the train, as though he’d been chasing something. Rachel, his mind fills in, like it always does, and he sat up, then pulled his wrinkled shirt on over his head. It seemed a little weird to change in front of someone who was sleeping, so he slipped out in his day old clothes and borrowed Kun’s room. “Don’t want to use your own?” Boro asked, good naturedly, when Bam popped into the kitchen to give Kun a heads up, and Bam rubbed the back of his head. “Even if she’s asleep, it’s still a little awkward. . . .” he said. Boro raised an eyebrow, and then understanding dawned on his face. “Ah,” he said, “Your girlfriend is staying in your room still, then.” “Do you mean Endorssi or that girl he found the other day?” Kun asked sharply, and Bam was grateful when he set down his cooking utensils to usher Bam out of the kitchen, giving Boro a long suffering look. Boro just chuckled after them, “It’s not every day your teammate brings home a strange girl, sorry.” Kun huffed; it took a moment for it to sink in that Boro was teasing him, and Bam wasn’t sure how to feel about that. There are also some people like me who have returned to your side, Endorssi had said that. Bam supposed it was true of the people who had stayed by his side too. As Kun went back to kitchen, Bam found himself drifting through the hallways. No one had had to stay with him for so long; he hadn’t asked them too, but he hadn’t questioned it before now, either. Now he wondered about it. Why did everyone feel so far away, when they were reaching out to him so easily? Uneasiness settled in his chest, and after he finished dressing, he went right back to his own room, settling in the blankets on the floor, with his back to the strange girl, thinking. He didn’t say anything to her this time. He wanted to her, but he wasn’t sure he knew the words for what he was feeling, strange and alone and not entirely a person. Rachel, his mind offered, like it often did, but she was never coming back. Everyone had known it, and hadn’t told him. Maybe he’d been supposed to know it too. Why hadn’t he? Why did he keep losing people and expect to get them back? He was probably worrying Kun, so he made sure to at least eat breakfast, where it felt like everyone was careful to avoid mentioning Wangnan’s team, or what had happened at the Name Hunt Station. Bam didn’t want to talk about these things either, but it was hard to focus on anything else, except. . . . “Do you think it’s shinsoo sensitivity?” he asked no one in particular; it was a complete tangent -- there was a moment of silence while everyone’s brains shifted gear, and Bam ducked his head, not sure if he should clarify or if he should pretend he hadn’t said anything. What had they been talking about? Endorssi looked a little offended -- maybe she’d been saying something, and he hadn’t been listening. “You mean the girl you found?” Sachi asked, and glanced at Boro, “Maybe, but then how did she get so far up the tower already?” “Seriously!” Endorssi slammed her hands down on the table, “There you go again! Why are you always talking about other girls? Am I not good enough for you?” She didn’t sound insecure enough to really be asking those questions. . . Bam wasn’t sure how to respond, since she mostly seemed angry, and not hurt, and being too apologetic might be weird, and really. . . . It was okay for him to think about other girls, right? She wouldn’t complain if he were thinking about her instead of Rachel, and it was really the same thing, wasn’t it? “Well, he gave her his bed,” Kun offered, trying to be diplomatic because it was too early in the morning for fighting, “I can understand if he wants it back soon. . . .” That wasn’t exactly it, but now that Kun mentioned it, “I won’t need my bed for a while after today, anyway. Since I’m going back to the rice pot after the test.” “Oh, really?” Kun’s voice was laced with something Bam couldn’t identify, but he seemed to accept this, “Ah, that reminds me -- I talked to Evan a bit yesterday, while you were resting! He’ll be training me as well, while you and Endorssi are busy.” “That’s great,” Bam said, and felt himself relax, now that the focus of the conversation had moved away from him, “I’m sure he knows a lot of great techniques. . . . I can’t wait to see what he shows you.” Kun seemed very pleased by this; his smile grew a little brighter, and Endorssi cleared her throat, “Anyway, you shouldn’t just give your bed out to girls like that! You don’t know what they’ll end up expecting.” “Ah, well, if she’s like Endorssi,” Kun said, and took a bite of food before he could finish the sentence. His meaning was pretty clear though -- Bam felt a little bad for Endorssi. “I don’t think there’ll be any misunderstandings. . .” he said, “Especially since I’ll probably leave before she wakes up. I’d like to meet her though. . . .” Endorssi didn’t seem to have much more to say after that. She busied herself with eating, and complaining about the food, but didn’t comment on anything Kun or Yuri talked about. For his part, Bam was content with letting the conversation flow around him while he thought about other things. Kun said being a human was better than being a god, but Bam wondered. Maybe it would make someone happier to be human than to be a god, but gods were worshiped for a reason, too. Even if he knew he’d be happier as a human being, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it was the right choice. After all, he had to do everything he could to protect everyone. But the God of Guardians had said that wasn’t the right solution either. Slowly, people left the kitchen; Bam stayed behind to wash the dishes, and so Kun stayed as well, talking about day to day things -- Endorssi had been grumpy, and she must have been really jealous; Yuri wasn’t, but didn’t she seem a little jealous of Endorssi? Hwa Ryun had gotten breakfast early again, and apparently she was specifically avoiding Endorssi, too. Apparently, they’d had an argument while Bam was gone, but Kun didn’t know about what. Bam washed quietly, nodding along or making noises in the back of his throat to show he was listening. He was tempted to go back to his room after breakfast, but he didn’t want to worry Kun anymore, and so he went on a walk instead. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, “Since we have the test soon. I just feel a bit restless.” He didn’t invite Kun; it wasn’t until he’d been walking for a few minutes that it occurred to him that it was pretty much what he’d done the day before, only this time he’d told Kun where he was going. He hoped that made a difference, but it was probably too late to go back and change things without seeming awkward. And the walk did help; it was quiet, and it was cold, which kept his mind off of things. He thought about the girl instead, why she might have appeared then, and why she appeared on the Hell Train instead of Headon’s floor. He knew she was an irregular, that that had been the door into the tower -- but was it also the door out of the tower? “My head’s full of so many questions,” he said, to no one in particular, and then he sat down, leaning against the wall behind him and slowly sliding to the floor. She was easy to think about; there were a lot of questions, but for now she was new, and he didn’t have the same kind of worries with her that he had with Endorssi or Kun, who he’d put in danger for so long, and who he was still putting in danger now, or that he had with Wangnan, and Ehwa and Rak, who were all off doing who knew what, and surely in danger or trouble of some kind, danger and trouble that he’d chosen to walk away from. But at least Wangnan hadn’t been at the Name Hunt Station; he’d surely have fallen with Ehwa and Rak and the swordsman; at least Bam didn’t know for sure that he was in danger, this way. Maybe everything was okay. He stayed out there for a while, before pushing himself to his feet again. It would probably be lunch soon, and it should be his turn to cook -- his or Ehwa’s, since he’d still been cooking on her turns anyway -- and then there was the test. And the girl he probably wouldn’t get to meet before he left. Maybe he wanted to think about her, he decided; everything else was getting in the way, but he did want to think about her -- about what kind of person she would be, about what kind of world she was from. She wasn’t dressed the way he and Rachel had dressed, so she probably didn’t come from the same place they had. Now that he’d thought about that, about wanting to think about her and wanting to meet her, he suddenly felt lighter, as though the realization that he wanted something had been enough to lift a weight from him. It was silly, but it made him a little happy. Would she be like Endorssi, brash and romantic? Or like Yuri, or Kun, or Ehwa? He didn’t want her to be like Rachel. . . and with the way things had been lately, he wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t want to replace Rachel, or because he couldn’t trust Rachel the way he’d been able to when they were younger. He did want to put the blankets he’d used the night before over her, though, for now -- the temperature only seemed to be dropping as the train hurried along, faster that it normally dropped at the end of summer, as though they were skipping past autumn entirely and diving headfirst into winter. It would be bad if she got a cold -- and he’d feel responsible, since he’d taken the blankets the night before. That was what he was thinking when he went back to his room, half expecting Kun to be waiting for him -- only for the door to his room to slide open, and the girl to stumble right into his arms. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, staring down at her with wide eyes; she stared up at him with equally wide eyes. Somehow, she had glasses now -- he wasn’t sure where she’d gotten them, but maybe they’d been. . . You couldn’t store glasses in pockets. Maybe Yuri had found them though? He wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure. . . “You didn’t have glasses before,” he said, and was suddenly very grateful that she was an irregular, and like when he’d first arrived in the tower, she did not speak Mexes. She seemed very confused, and pulled away; right -- she hadn’t been watching over him while he slept, so he must have seemed too familiar. Swallowing thickly, he took her hand. Yuri would know what to do about this. Or Evan would -- Evan would have another Pocket. Her hand was warm in his, as though he suddenly had a fever, and even hours later, when he arrived at the rice pot, he’d be able to feel the imprint of her palm against his. But for now, he had to take her to Yuri. Or Evan. Evan would have another Pocket.
11360313	A Dangerous Game	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Mikasa Ackerman, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Nile Dok, Darius Zackly, Erwin Smith", "Fandom": "Shingeki no Kyojin \| Attack on Titan", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by LittleWhisperer", "chapters": "12/12", "completed": "2019-01-06", "published": "2017-07-04T00:00:00", "words": "42,670", "Additional Tags": "Drug Use, Smut, Alternate Universe- Mafia, Prostitution, angst (of course), Drama", "Relationship": "Mikasa Ackerman/Levi", "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 }	Mikasa was running as fast as she could, her lungs burning with exertion as she sprinted down the street. When she reached the corner she risked a look back, stealing a quick glance over her shoulder.They were coming, gaining on her. And they were armed.Cursing, she rounded the corner and renewed her break-neck pace, her quads burning as she pushed them to their limits. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to run flat out, and her body wasn’t used to the strain.And to make matters worse, the drugs still coursing through her system were only heightening the strain, making it incredibly difficult to move and focus.But she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, she was dead. So she ran and ran, winding through the city streets in a desperate attempt to shake her attackers.She thought she’d lost them when the crack of gunfire drew her attention. Gasping, she reflexively shielded herself as a bullet impacted a shop window to her left. She whipped around, her eyes furtively scanning the street for a sign of the shooter.She saw him just in time. He was approaching from the opposite side of the street, and Mikasa ducked and rolled as he took another shot at her.But she was a hair too slow, and she gasped in pain as the bullet grazed her leg, slicing into the skin of her upper thigh. She fell hard, clutching at the wound.I have to get out of here, she thought, her mind a whir of panic. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she forced herself to her feet and broke into the fastest run she could muster, ignoring the way her leg throbbed with each stride.She veered down an alley a few yards shy of the nearest intersection, her breath coming in short gasps. Despite how badly she was struggling, she kept running, racing down the alley and turning onto a side street, intentionally avoiding all of the main roads. She knew didn’t have much time left; if she couldn’t shake her pursuers soon, her leg would be the least of her worries.She had nearly made it to the end of another side street when the purr of an engine reached her ears. Mikasa twirled around, squinting against the sudden blinding light as a pair of headlights drew near. For a second she was afraid it was one of them, but the driver didn't seem to be intentionally trying to run her down.Taking a wild chance, Mikasa leapt into the middle of the road and waved her arms above her head. “Hey!” She yelled. “Stop! Please!”The car didn’t slow down. Levi flicked through the stations on the radio, his scowl deepening as each new disappointing tune blasted through his speakers. Finally, he shut it off, preferring the quiet to the awful noise that was somehow viewed as music by the majority of the population. It was late, he was tired, and the last thing he wanted was some pop culture shit stuck in his head while he endured another lonely night.Taking a shortcut, he turned down a side street, cutting the turn sharply just because he could. That was the nice thing about German cars—they handled like a dream. It was a small pleasure, but small pleasures were all he had left to enjoy these days.Sighing, he reached over and rummaged in the glove compartment for his cigarettes, momentarily taking his eyes off the road.“Gotcha,” he muttered as his hand closed around the familiar shape of the carton. He tossed it onto the passenger seat and closed the glove compartment, turning his attention back to the road.“Fuck!” He hollered as he saw the girl waving wildly in the glare of his headlights. He slammed on the breaks, nearly stalling his car as he screeched to a halt mere inches from her, his tires burning rubber on the road behind him. If he’d reacted any slower he would’ve killed her.For a suspended moment, Levi just stared at her as she stood there. Her chest was heaving and her wide, dark eyes were locked onto his through the glass of the windshield. Her leg was bleeding and she had a couple of nasty scratches on her face, and Levi imagined there were probably more hidden beneath what was left of her ratty clothing.Apparently unfazed by the fact that he'd nearly run her over, the girl hobbled around to his passenger door and knocked on the window. “Please,” she managed between shaky breaths. "You have to help me.”Levi pressed his lips into a hard line. She’s probably some strung out junkie- might even be dangerous. There was no point in taking the risk.Decision made, Levi broke eye contact without saying a word, and then he depressed the gas pedal with more force than necessary, leaving her there in the middle of the street.He tried not to look back, but some sick part of him couldn’t help it and he found himself watching her shrinking figure in his rear view mirror. She looked pathetic and helpless, just standing there staring after him, arms hanging limply at her sides.“I’m done with this,” he said aloud. “Done.” She’s not my problem.He was still repeating that line to himself and staring in the rear view when he saw the men come sprinting into the alley. They were heading for the girl, guns in hand.Surprised, Levi stopped the car, his eyes widening. It was one thing to leave some junkie to come down off of a bad trip, but it was a whole other thing to let a girl get shot to death while he watched. He was heartless, but he wasn’t a complete monster.So prove it, some inner voice taunted him.With a curse, Levi threw the car in reverse, zipping back towards the girl.She jumped aside as he reached her, and he quickly leaned over and flung the passenger door open, keeping one eye glued to the beefy man barreling towards them. They didn’t have much time.“Get in,” he barked.He didn’t have to ask twice. The girl launched herself into the car, slamming the door shut behind her.“Buckle up.”Revving the engine, Levi once again burned rubber as he tore off down the narrow street, cringing when he heard one of the men fire his gun at them. The first bullet missed them but the second took out Levi's right mirror, shattering the glass on impact.Furious, Levi weaved on the road even as he increased his speed, making the car a harder mark to hit. When they reached the end of the street he veered left, running through a stoplight and speeding the wrong way down a one-way street, exiting onto a larger avenue and following it for a few blocks before finally turning into a convenience store parking lot when he was certain they had no tails. He flicked the headlights off and pulled into a space that was partially blocked from view of the main road—just to be safe.And then he listened.Everything was quiet.Satisfied that they were alone, Levi took a second to calm himself down. One of his hands was still holding the steering wheel in a death grip, the other clutching the stick shift. He relaxed his grip slowly - finger by finger - as his pulse slowed, and then he engaged the parking brake and leaned back in his seat, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.Finally, he looked over at the girl.She was fading in and out, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to stay conscious. Perspiration dotted her forehead, and the wound on her leg was soaking into the fabric of her jeans and bleeding into his leather upholstery.If she hadn’t been in such bad shape he would’ve throttled her.“Hey.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Can you hear me?”Her voice was thin as a reed. “Yes.”That was a good sign. He reached over her and again opened the glove compartment, this time searching for the wad of spare bills he kept there in case of emergency. “What’s your name?” He asked as he palmed the money.“Mi...na. My name…is Mina.”He tucked the money into his pocket. “All right. Mina, I need you to listen. I’m going to go inside and get some things for your leg. Stay here, don’t move, and keep yourself awake. I’d take you straight to the hospital, but you won’t make it there, not bleeding the way you are.”She grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong for someone who looked like she was halfway to the grave.“No hospital,” she murmured. Her dark eyes were full of fear. “They’ll find me there. Please don’t…just leave me here.”What the hell kind of trouble is this girl in? “If I leave you here you’re going to die.”“I’ll take the risk.”Levi felt his brows reach his hairline in disbelief, and he took a closer look at his passenger.She was in bad shape - that was for damn sure - but now he looked beyond the cuts and bruises. There was resilience in her dark eyes and the hard set of her jaw, strength in the cut muscles of her arms, stubbornness in the way she refused to succumb to unconsciousness. Whatever else she was, this girl was a fighter.And that was something he could respect.“All right,” he yielded. “No hospital.” He opened his door and took the keys. “I’ll be back in a minute. Try not to die.”Without waiting for a reply, he slammed the door, hit the locks, and headed for the store. I’ll help her tonight, and then she’s on her own. She’s not my problem. I said I was done with this life, and I meant it. I'm fucking done. Of course, he’d been saying that for seven years, and here he was. Still in the game. Living proof that once you're in, you're in for good. Kenny had tried to tell him that, once, had tried to ingrain in him the truth that there was no way out of this life.But his alcoholic uncle had been wrong; there was a way out. And Levi planned to take it.He pulled open the door of the convenience store, ignoring the ding of the bell and the call of the cashier asking him if he was looking for anything in particular, and he walked towards the aisle boasting "FIRST AID", his black mood getting blacker. Today I help the girl, and tomorrow I get out. Simple as that. Right. As if anything in his life ever went as planned. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When Mikasa blinked her eyes open, the first thing she felt was disorientation, followed quickly by pain and a rolling tidal wave of intense nausea. She groaned, pressing a hand to her head.“About time you woke up.”The voice was low and gruff and vaguely familiar, but Mikasa's doubt as to whether or not it belonged to a friend or enemy had her sitting up, fists rising defensively even as her stomach roiled at the sudden motion.A face swam into her field of vision—a man's face: dark hair and brows, steel-colored eyes, thin lips pulled down into a decisive scowl.It filled her with the same sense of vague familiarity as the voice.“Relax,” the man said. He was sitting on the edge of the bed she was in, far enough away that she would have to really extend her punches to reach him. “If I wanted to kill you," he continued, "I would’ve let you bleed out last night. Or I would’ve let your attacker shoot you.” He paused, gaze flickering to her bandaged thigh. “Again,” he added dryly.Mikasa didn’t appreciate his sense of humor, but she still dropped her fists. What he’d said made sense, after all. “Where am I?" She asked, looking around at the sparsely furnished, small bedroom. It was nearly empty, adorned only with a bedside table, a lamp resting on said table, and a chair in one corner. It was also impeccably clean. As clean as a kill room after it's been bleached. "My apartment," her companion answered before Mikasa could dwell anymore on the state of the room. "You didn't want me to take you to a hospital, so I brought you here."Because of her leg. Right.Mikasa looked down, noticing for the first time that she was only wearing the skimpy set of lingerie that the Dok family had deigned to call a 'uniform'. "Where are my clothes?" She asked."In the garbage," the man said without remorse. "They were dirty and bloody and hopeless.""And so you what—undressed me while I was unconscious?"He gave her a look like she was exceptionally thick. "It would've been hard to clean your bullet wound and check you for other injuries without taking your clothes off, so yeah, I undressed you." His lips twisted slightly. "Don't worry; I was a little preoccupied with your bleeding leg to admire your classy choice of underwear."Mikasa ignored that jab and tried to piece together the hours she'd lost. "So you…you picked me up last night in the alley, then brought me here and cleaned me up?”His scowl didn’t waver. “Quite the genius, aren’t you?”Mikasa bristled. “Forgive me for not remembering the past twenty-four hours in vivid detail,” she tossed out. “I was just shot.”The man sighed and stood up. He was short, probably shorter than she was, but Mikasa could see the definition of hard muscles beneath the fitted black mock neck sweater he was wearing. If he wasn't acting like such an ass, she might have even appreciated the view.“Yes, you were,” he said, crossing his arms. He raised his chin slightly, peering down at her. “Why is that? In my experience, junkies don’t usually get hunted down by armed men.”Mikasa sat up a little taller in spite of the pain. “I’m not a junkie,” she said.The man gestured towards her left arm. “My eyes work well enough to spot needle marks, Mina.”Mikasa felt a moment of panic before she remembered that she had told him her name the previous night. At least she'd still had enough wits about her to know not to give her real name.For one awful moment, a flashback from her time as Mina popped into Mikasa's head. She'd been on her hands and knees on the floor in the Doks' whorehouse, the textured pattern of the rug imprinting itself onto her palms and knees a little deeper each time Nile had pounded into her. Mina, he'd chanted as he'd quickened his thrusts, his sweaty fingers pressing into her hips like he was trying to brand her. Mina...oh, fuck...Mina, you're so fucking tight. Mikasa felt a shiver that had nothing to do with withdrawal course down her spine. The memory of that vile man inside of her was almost enough to make her wish she'd started using sooner. At least then she would have been able to mentally check out whenever he came to visit her.Frowning, Mikasa traced a finger over the mark below her left elbow, remembering the sting of the most recent needle as it sank into her skin. “I never used before this month,” she murmured, realizing she'd been quiet for too long. “And it…it wasn’t my choice.”For the first time since she’d woken up, Mikasa saw the man’s scowl falter. “Oh?” He said, a touch of curiosity in his voice.Before she could respond, the wave of nausea broke and her stomach clenched violently. She leaned over the side of the bed, and, seemingly out of nowhere, a trashcan materialized in the man's outstretched hands just as the meager contents of her stomach came back up.Mikasa wiped the back of her hand across her mouth when the retching stopped, her body shaking. She could feel sweat beading across her brow and running down her spine—the cold kind of sweat that made you shiver. She looked up in time to see the man moving the trashcan away, a look of pure disgust etched on his features.It made Mikasa feel lousier than she already did. “Sorry,” she said.The short man exhaled. “It is what it is. You’re just lucky your withdrawal symptoms aren’t worse. Heroin is nasty business.” He gave her a look. “But it’s not my business, so listen: I don’t know what your story is, but once you're strong enough to walk, you need to leave. I’m not the kind of person that plays nursemaid to recovering junkies.”Mikasa swallowed, her mind racing. She couldn’t go back outside now—the Dok guards would no doubt still be looking for her. She needed to lay low for a few days, to stay under the radar, and here in this taciturn stranger’s home seemed like a great place to do that.Which meant that she would have to somehow convince him not to kick her out.“I don’t expect you to take care of me,” she said, “but could I stay here for a few days? I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.” She hurried on once she saw his expression start to sour. “Please. I’m in trouble. If you send me out there now, I’ll be dead in a few hours.”“You’re not my problem.” The man’s steel eyes were cold. “Why should I care what happens to you?”Mikasa thought fast. “You already care,” she countered. “If you didn't, you wouldn’t have helped me in the first place.”A muscle clenched in his jaw. “Tell me why,” he said finally. “Tell me why you’re in trouble, and I’ll consider it.”She couldn’t tell him why—not the real reason, at least. He may have saved her life, but she had no idea who he really was. And as she'd learned long before all of this had begun, you never trust someone you do not know. So, instead of being honest, Mikasa crafted a believable lie, one that contained bits and pieces of truth while steering clear of actual truth, just as she'd been conditioned to do.“Very well.” She paused, purposely taking a breath for dramatic impact. “I was one of the Dok girls," she began, "gifted to them by a family in Karanese who owed them a favor. The Doks were the ones who gave me the heroin—they like their girls out of it when they have their fun.” Mikasa frowned. “Yesterday, my brother Eren found me. He’d been tracking me since the Karanese people picked me up six months ago, and he showed up at the Doks' headquarters and things went…” Her voice genuinely faltered as she thought of the green-eyed boy. “Things went wrong. The Doks killed him and in the confusion, I—I ran.”The man was silent when she finished speaking, simply standing there watching her, but the distaste had faded from his eyes, replaced by something akin to interest. “So let me get this straight,” he finally said. “You managed to escape from the Doks’ brothel high on drugs after watching your brother get murdered?” The way he emphasized the name Dok made it clear he knew the family's reputation.Mikasa fidgeted, then instantly regretted it as her leg throbbed. “Yes,” she said. “That’s more or less what happened.”His brows rose slightly. “All right,” he said after a pause so long that Mikasa was sure he was going to tell her to go scratch. “You can stay here for a few days, just until the drugs are out of your system. Tomorrow I’ll show you where everything is, but for now, just stay put. I’ll stop in later to check your leg and give you some food. There’s water on the bedside table. Make sure you drink it.” He walked to the door, picking up the soiled trashcan on his way. “I’ll put a fresh bag in this,” he added. “If you need to vomit again, use it.” He glared at her over his shoulder. “If you make a mess anywhere else, I’ll throw your ass out on the street. Clear?”Mikasa nodded, too relieved at being allowed to stay to care about the man’s peculiar rules. “Clear.” She watched him open the door. “Oh,” she called, “and, um…”“Levi.”She tried for a smile, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt. “Levi,” she said. “Thank you.”A brusque grunt was her only reply, and then she was alone in the bare, too-clean room.She wondered if she was really safer here than she would have been out on the street. She was impossibly, hopelessly frustrating, and Levi was fairly certain that the story she’d told him was missing key parts (or was mostly bullshit), but there was something about her, something that he couldn’t quite define, that made him feel like maybe she was worth saving anyway.With a sigh, he looked down at the pile of bloody clothes resting on his washing machine—the ones he'd told Mina he had thrown out. The jeans were designer and the shirt was gauzy and revealing, entirely inappropriate for anyone outside of one specific profession.Granted, Mina had basically told him she was a sex slave, so the outfit really wasn’t surprising. The muscular frame he'd seen beneath the outfit, however, had been a surprise. Prostitutes weren't usually built like athletes.But the most surprising thing of all was that she was one of the Dok girls. There were only two families of note in the Sina Mafia: the Doks and the Zacklys. Mina was the property of one of them—or at least, she had been up until yesterday, and as for him…Well.Levi wondered how Mina would react if she knew her savior worked for men who were just as bad – if not worse – than the people who had sold her into slavery.She’d try to kill me, he thought, nearly sure of it.It wasn’t how most brothel girls would react. The Zacklys had their own harem of stolen women that Levi had seen on more than one occasion, and regardless of age and race, they all had one thing in common: the look of defeat. Their eyes had lost whatever spark they once might’ve had, blurred and faded by years of drugs, mistreatment, and lost hope. Their bodies were usually wasted away too, but nothing was as bad as those hollow, hopeless eyes.Mina wasn’t like that. He’d known it last night in the car, and she’d proven it again today. Despite the clothes and her story, she didn’t seem like a prostitute at all.Which made Levi wonder what her real story was.Scooping up her clothes with the very tips of his fingers to avoid getting any filth on his hands, he put the disgusting bundle in a garbage bag. Then he tied the bag, went outside, and loaded it into the trunk of his car. With any luck, he'd be able to deal with it soon; he really didn't want to be driving around with a bag full of bloody women's clothing in his car. But evidence was evidence, and he had his marching orders.Levi closed the trunk, squinting as the sun glinted off the shattered pieces of his right rear view mirror and shined in his face like an obnoxious, blazing reminder of the previous night. Fucking Dok pigs, he thought in anger. Ruining my personal fucking property. If he knew which of the meatheads was responsible, Levi would have fed them the broken shards of the mirror. With pleasure. Unfortunately, though, the shooter's identity remained a mystery. Feeling disgruntled about everything, Levi left his damaged vehicle for the time being and went back inside. He made sure his guns were still in their proper places, and then, since it was still relatively early, he put on a kettle of tea.A second or two later, he added more water, thinking that maybe his strange house guest would like some too.So much for getting out today, he thought wryly. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- She really was something.One day after she’d been confined to her bed, vomiting up what seemed to be everything but her childhood memories, Mina had insisted that she was well enough to change her own bandages.A day after that, she’d started walking, pacing the length of the spare bedroom until she could do three laps without limping.By dinnertime the following day, she’d decided to attempt walking up and down the stairs. She gripped the banister the whole time and stumbled more than once, but she never gave up. Initially, Levi stayed at the bottom of the stairs to keep an eye on her, using the excuse that he didn’t want her to fall and break something and end up being an invalid in his apartment for the next six weeks, but in reality, he just assumed that he would need to intervene when she inevitably fell.He needn’t have bothered.Mina was weak from the drugs and her leg wound, but the girl was determined like no one else he knew. She kept at it long after anyone else would’ve thrown in the towel, and, although she lost her footing a few times, she never fell. Eventually, Levi decided that she’d probably been right all along: she was fine on her own.The next morning, he didn’t bother supervising her at all as she started her exercises, although he did note with some astonishment that she was now able to walk up and down the steps at a reasonable pace without holding the banister. Go figure.He left her alone in the afternoon when Darius called him in, and, as always, his employer kept him busy much longer than he’d promised. By the time Levi got into his car and drove home, it was dark.In all likelihood, he figured that Mina was probably already asleep, but Levi changed his shirt anyway, not wanting to incur questions on the off chance that she was still awake. He frowned down at the blood splattered on his white button-up, then balled it up and stuck it next to the trash bag full of Mina’s old clothes in the trunk. He’d work the stains out later, when he was sure he was alone.With sluggish steps, Levi walked up to his apartment and unlocked the front door, already reflexively reaching for the light switch. To his immense surprise, though, the lights were already on and he could hear sounds coming from the kitchen. He checked his watch again. 23:12, the digital display boasted. Mystified, Levi walked over to the kitchen, then stood there staring in disbelief.“You’re cooking?” He said, stating the obvious like an idiot simply because he was so baffled at seeing Mina there, cooking in his kitchen like it was the most natural activity in the world.The dark-haired girl turned, offering him a small smile. “You had fresh groceries. It would have been a shame to let them go to waste.”“It's a little late for dinner,” he replied.“Have you eaten yet?” She asked, cocking her head slightly."No," he admitted.Her smile returned. "Then it's not too late for dinner." She turned her attention back to what she was doing. "Besides, I slept through most of the evening, so it doesn't feel that late to me."Levi shrugged. "Fair enough," he mumbled.Mina had showered—recently, judging by the fact that her hair was still damp and that she'd changed out of the sweatpants and t-shirt he’d lent her, trading that ensemble in for a pair of his boxers and one of his old button-up shirts that she must have found in the upstairs hall closet. She’d rolled the sleeves up to her elbows, but Levi could still tell the shirt was too small for her by the way it didn’t quite reach her hips. There was a teasing inch of skin peeking out between the bottom hem of the shirt and the waistband of the boxers.Levi cleared his throat and nodded towards the pan on the stove, moving his gaze to a safer place. “What are you making?” He asked.“Lemon chicken with asparagus.”Levi leaned against the kitchen wall, watching her work and pondering who had taught her to cook, and when. She moved with an easy confidence—chopping, seasoning, and minding the stove with the practiced ease of someone who had spent a good amount of time in the kitchen before.“You could help, you know,” she said a few minutes later without turning to look at him. “Instead of standing there watching me.”Levi opened his mouth to deny it, then thought better of it. She was right, after all; he had been watching her.Wordlessly, he picked up a knife and helped her finish trimming the asparagus, and then cleaned up the counter as Mina continued to watch the stove.It was strange, doing something like this after he’d spent the afternoon with his knuckles embedded in someone’s cheekbones. Don’t pull your punches, Levi; I want Ivan to know how much he hurt me when he failed to make good on his loan. “Are you all right?”Mina was holding two plates of food and looking at him with innocent-enough curiosity, but Levi caught the way her gaze dropped to the table where his hand was holding the cleaning rag. He quickly wiped down the rest of the table and tossed the rag in the sink. “Fine,” he replied. “Just had a long day.”Mina put the plates down on the table without prompting and took a seat, still regarding him in a way that Levi wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Those large dark eyes of hers seemed to know more than they should, and they’d certainly seemed to linger on his cracked knuckles two seconds too long. You’re being paranoid. She’s just some used-up girl; she doesn’t know shit. Mina gave him another one of her small smiles as he poured two glasses of water and carried them over to the table, and Levi immediately felt like an asshole. She’s not just some used-up girl, he chastised himself. She’s a fucking person—more of a person than your sorry ass. He sat down opposite her, staring guiltily at the table. “Thanks,” he said. “You didn’t have to do this.”“I know,” Mina replied. She’d already started eating, and she spoke between bites. “It was relaxing for me, though. I wanted to do something…normal, for a change. I wanted to get out of my head for a while.”Levi glanced up at her. “Yeah,” he replied. “I know how that feels.”They ate in silence after that, but, to Levi’s surprise, it wasn’t an awkward one. Mina seemed content to skip the small talk and just eat in peace, which suited Levi just fine. It had been a long time since he’d shared a meal with anyone (let alone had someone cook for him), and he wouldn’t have known what to say anyway.It was only later, while they were cleaning up, that Mina broke the silence.“How did you rough up your hand?” She asked as she finished washing one of the plates and handed it to him to dry.Levi frowned as he took the plate from her. So she had noticed.“Training,” he lied easily. “I work at an MMA gym and occasionally we do some bare-fisted fighting.”Mina raised a brow. “Really? I thought safety gear was a must.”“Usually it is, but some clients want to know how they’d fare in a street fight. I’m one of the trainers willing to show them the answer.”Mina nodded thoughtfully. “Practical application is always important,” she commented. She was leaning heavily against the kitchen sink—more heavily than she had been earlier. “Simulations can only teach you so much.”It was an observation that should have made Levi ask a few follow-up questions, but he was too focused on the sudden weakness in Mina’s posture to dwell on it. “Are you all right?” He asked, genuinely concerned.“Yes. Just tired.” Mina snapped off the yellow latex gloves she’d been wearing and laid them over the faucet. “I should probably get some sleep.”She brushed by him, trying and failing to hide the slight limp in her step as she walked out of the kitchen.Frowning, Levi followed her, trailing a few paces behind her as she headed to the stairs.It turned out to be a good decision.Four or so steps up, Mina gave a strained gasp and stumbled, her left leg giving out.Levi reacted instinctively, leaping up behind her and catching her under the arms before she could collapse. Then he took her left arm, wrapped it around his shoulders without asking, and helped her up to standing, taking some of her weight. “C’mon,” he said. “I’ll help you get upstairs.”“I don’t need—”“Yeah, you do. Don’t argue. Just grab the banister and walk.”Thankfully, she accepted his help, and they started moving up the stairs. Progress was slow, and judging by the grimace on her face, Levi knew that Mina must have been in a good amount of pain, but she didn’t say a word. She simply hopped up one step at a time until they reached the top landing.Which was when Levi saw the blood seeping through the bandages on her thigh.“Shit,” he cursed. No wonder she was in pain. “You tore your stitches.”After a second of deliberation, Levi helped her into the bathroom and eased her down onto the tiled floor. “Sit,” he said. “I’ll go get the first aid kit.”When he returned, Mina was untying her bloody bandages, her lips pressed together tightly as she worked at the bindings.Levi knelt down beside her. “May I?” He asked, hesitant to touch her. She was conscious this time around, so it seemed like he ought to get some kind of verbal permission.Mina nodded. “Go ahead.”He reached out and adjusted her leg, then finished undoing the bandages, revealing the damage beneath. She’d torn two of the five stitches, but luckily there was no sign of infection.Levi retrieved the necessary tools from the first aid kit and glanced up at her. “Do you want something for the pain? Because this will hurt and I need you to stay still.”Mina blinked at him. “I can handle the pain,” she replied simply, and then she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.Levi didn’t ask her again. He’d only known her for a few days, but even that brevity of acquaintance was enough to convince him that her resilience wasn’t a ruse; she was strong, in more ways than one.Which she now proved again.She didn’t whimper or cry or curse as he removed her ruined stitches, and even when he fed the needle through her skin to insert the fresh ones, the only hint that she was in pain came from the involuntary tensing of her quad muscles beneath his hands. Once he’d closed up the new stitches, he cleaned away the blood, dressed the wound with a generous slather of antibiotic ointment, and then re-bandaged everything, his hands lingering just a fraction too long on the milky paleness of her thigh when he finished.Once he realized what he was doing, Levi immediately jerked his hand away and cleared his throat. “That's it," he murmured. "Hopefully they’ll stay in this time.”When Mina didn’t reply, Levi looked up at her, and then his eyes widened in surprise.The girl was asleep. She’d fucking fallen asleep while he’d been stitching her up.Hot fucking damn.Apparently she really could handle her pain.Levi rocked back on his heels, regarding her. Who are you, Mina? He wondered. Who are you really? Still lost in his thoughts, Levi packed up the first aid kit and put it away, then gently scooped Mina up in his arms. She sighed softly as he carried her into the spare bedroom, turning her face into his neck until Levi could feel the soft, warm tickle of her breath on his skin.As quickly as he could, he put her down on the bed and drew the duvet over her, averting his eyes from her slender figure as much as he could. He’d seen her nearly naked before, true, and yet somehow the sight of her wearing his clothes, his boxers, was more of a turn on than seeing her in the skimpy, lacy lingerie she'd had on before. Now she seemed less like a sex object and more like a woman.A beautiful, strong woman who was currently asleep in his apartment.Levi had never, ever felt an attraction towards any of the Zackly girls, and he’d refused Darius’ offer of choosing one to keep him company on more than one occasion. He also rarely felt any kind of pull towards free, available women, despite the fact that they seemed to throw themselves at him on a fairly regular basis.And now here he was, blushing like an imbecile over a Dok girl he’d saved, drawn to her like a moth to a fucking flame because she seemed different than all the other women he'd interacted with in recent memory. How fucking pathetic. Get a grip. In the end, he settled for getting a drink, pouring himself a generous helping of scotch from his liquor cabinet.He was far from happy, but as he polished off his first drink and poured himself a second, Levi realized that, for the first time in months, he’d gone an entire day without thinking about getting out. And it wasn’t just that he hadn’t thought about it; he’d spent his time thinking about Mina instead, worrying over her recovery and wondering about her past.It was almost like he’d started to care about something again, like he was remembering what it felt like to have a life outside of the Mafia and its shit. Like he was remembering what it was like to be a good person.God, what a joke.If there was such a thing as a quote unquote good person, he was about as far from it as anyone could possibly be, and caring about a girl who would probably be dead or sold back into slavery in a few months wasn't going to change that. Nothing could change what he was, what he'd become.With a brittle laugh, Levi raised the glass to his lips and tossed back his second helping of scotch, welcoming the burn. When Mikasa woke up, the sun was shining brightly through the bedroom window, filling the room with light. Stretching, she sat up in bed and threw the covers off, then stood up, experimentally putting weight on her left leg.It hurt, but not like it had the previous night, and there was no new fresh blood visible through her bandages. Her nausea was almost gone too, which was an added bonus; she’d expected her withdrawal symptoms to last longer.There was a full glass of water on the bedside table just like there had been each day since she'd first woken up in Levi's apartment, but this time there was a note resting under it, which Mikasa read while she drank the water. Went to work. Left first aid kit on kitchen counter if you need it. Leftover food in fridge. Mikasa ran a finger over the spiky pencil marks, smiling to herself. Levi was certainly a strange, reserved man – troubled, even – but he seemed like a decent sort. He’d gone out of his way to help her over the past few days, and even though he knew what she was, he’d been a perfect (albeit somewhat vulgar) gentleman.However, she couldn’t take advantage of his hospitality forever; she had responsibilities, and with Eren gone…The thought died midway through, her mind unable to skip past that terrible truth.Eren was dead, murdered, and Mikasa wasn’t even sure what had gone wrong. They’d been so careful, so meticulous in cultivating their respective roles over the past six months that the events of the previous week were almost unbelievable. What had happened? What had been the catalyst?She couldn’t even guess at the answers, but she knew someone who might.She needed to contact Erwin. It was time.After she’d brushed her teeth and checked her stitches, Mikasa began to wander around Levi’s apartment, looking for something she could use.Like most people, Levi didn’t have a landline, and her search for a cellphone was unfruitful. Granted, if he did have a cell, he’d probably taken it with him to work, so the fact that she didn’t find one lying around the apartment wasn’t surprising.What was surprising was that she didn’t find any kind of other electronic devices: no TVs, no computers, no laptops, no tablets—nothing. It was the most technologically bare apartment she’d ever seen.Frustrated, Mikasa eventually found herself at Levi’s bedroom door. It was the only room in the apartment that he’d requested she not enter, and up until now, she’d respected his request.But she needed to contact Erwin, and short of taking the risk of going outside and finding a means of contact that way, Levi’s room was her only other option.She turned the knob. Locked. It was a modern lock, however, and those were much more easily dealt with than older models. It took Mikasa less than two minutes to find something slender enough to fit it (a paperclip) and pop the lock.Feeling slightly guilty at intruding, Mikasa opened the door.Levi's bedroom was much like his spare bedroom—sparsely furnished, ridiculously clean, and devoid of any color that wasn’t neutral. There was, however, one piece of art on the wall above his bed, a muted watercolor of a place she didn't recognize but still somehow managed to make her feel nostalgic.She shook her head. Focus, she willed herself. She was here to search, not to stare at paintings. Forcing herself to get back on task, she walked over to the dresser and began opening drawers, not really expecting to find anything.But she did.In the second drawer from the bottom, she found a loaded handgun – a Glock – and in the bottom drawer, she found two more guns, also loaded: a Dan Wesson Specialist and a sawed-off, double-barrel shotgun.The presence of the guns could be explained away easily enough, especially given the fact that Sina was a breeding ground for violent gang activity, but the suppressor Mikasa saw resting next to the Dan Wesson was more troubling. There were only certain types of people that used suppressors, and nearly all of them were killers.Still, Mikasa wanted to give Levi the benefit of the doubt.And she could have, if she hadn’t opened the drawer of his bedside table. Inside, there were only two things: a karambit knife and a black logbook.Moving the knife aside, Mikasa picked up the logbook. Its weight felt ominous in her hand, as though something were intuitively warning her that whatever she found inside would be damning.She opened it anyway, needing to know.She began to flip through the pages, skimming Levi’s distinctive handwriting for important details, squinting at times to make out the tiny additions scrawled in the side margins.She'd gotten maybe five or six pages in when two names caught her eye. Nile. Darius. Mikasa froze, rereading the brief entry. - Nile and Darius: meeting at Pixis’ Place – gentlemen's club on E 72nd. Monday, October 4th. 2100 hours. Feeling sick, Mikasa turned more pages, her stomach sinking a little further each time she discovered a similar entry.And there were a lot of entries, enough to make her realize that—“Mina?”Mikasa dropped the logbook and whirled around, instinctively grabbing the knife from the drawer. She wasn’t as comfortable using karambits as she was using other types of knives, but she’d manage.She shifted into a defensive stance, readying herself for a confrontation as Levi looked from her to the logbook and back. He didn't say anything, but Mikasa could tell that he was well aware of what she'd discovered by the look in his eyes.“You work for the Doks, don’t you?” She accused, her voice shaking with anger. “Did they put you up to this? Did you know about me before that night in the alley?" It was just a guess, but if Levi was working for the Sina Mafia, it was more than possible he'd heard about her and Eren. "Was this some kind of sick setup? Some kind of game?”Levi raised his hands, edging around the bed towards her. “Mina—”“Don’t move,” she hissed.He stopped.“Answer me,” she demanded.Levi’s face was expressionless, his steel eyes unreadable. “It wasn’t a setup,” he finally said. “And I don’t work for the Doks.”“Then why—?”“I work for the Zacklys.”Mikasa’s breath caught in her throat. As bad as the Doks were, she knew that the Zacklys had a reputation for being far worse. Even Nile – the vilest man she knew – was afraid of them.She thought of Eren, of all the work they'd done over the past months, of all the painstaking evidence they'd accrued in order to take down men like the Doks, men like the Zacklays. Men like Levi. Mikasa's grip on the knife tightened as her anger reached its boiling point. “Wrong answer,” she said, and then she lunged at him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- She came at him much faster than he’d anticipated, and Levi barely jumped back far enough to evade the slash of the knife. He reacted more quickly the next time, stopping her strike with his forearm and then ducking as she brought the blade flashing through the air by his head.The next few minutes were a blur of strikes and blocks, and Levi found himself on the defensive nearly the whole time. Mina was so fast and agile that it took an incredible amount of speed just to keep up with her, and she feinted often enough that Levi found it difficult to predict what her next move would be.She was, without a doubt, a trained fighter—and a bloody good one, at that.Somewhere around minute three of their skirmish, Levi managed to land a palm strike, smacking her in the chest with enough impact to knock her back a few paces. Her left thigh twitched as she regained her balance, giving Levi an idea.“Put the knife down, Mina,” he said, his hands still raised defensively as they began to circle one another.“I don’t think so,” she said, and then, without any kind of preamble, she charged him again, raising his knife over her head. She’d moved too fast for him to successfully retreat, so instead Levi relied on brute strength, reaching out and grabbing her arm as it sailed towards him. The blade stopped inches from his face, but Mina was still pressing forward, using her bodyweight to add power to her movement.Grimacing at what he was about to do but not seeing any other obvious options, Levi kneed her in the thigh—right where her bandages were.Mina instantly cried out in pain, and Levi disarmed her before she could recover, then twirled her around and drew her back against his chest, bending her arm between them and pinning her left arm to her side. She squirmed in his grasp but Levi held her still. “Stop fighting me,” he ground out through his teeth.For a brief moment he thought she’d listened because she relaxed against him, but it was just a ruse.And it worked.Just as Levi began to loosen his grip, Mina went on the offensive, jamming her left elbow into his ribs and sinking down into a crouch as he gasped for breath. Then she planted her right knee on the floor, leaned forward even more, and used his body weight and momentum against him, flipping him over her head. Levi landed on his back with an audible thud, and then lay there for a suspended moment, shocked.But he’d never been one to stay down for long. Recovering quickly, he rolled over into a crouch—just as Mina drove a foot towards his face.Bad move, Levi thought as he rolled out of striking distance and then countered – still maintaining his crouch – with two powerful punches to Mina’s injured leg.Mina shrieked in pain and lost her balance, and Levi sprang to his feet, lunging towards his dresser.By the time she recovered, Levi had his Glock in hand, the barrel aimed straight at her heart.“Stop right there,” he ordered.She did, her eyes full of hatred.Levi’s hands were steady, but he was breathing hard. Mina was too, her chest heaving with every breath, and Levi could see fresh blood staining the bandages on her thigh. But she didn’t look beaten or afraid; she just looked pissed.Levi shook his head. “Where the fuck did you learn to fight like that?” He asked, completely bewildered.Mina’s expression didn’t change. “I could ask you the same thing.” She raised her chin, staring at him with defiance. “If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”“I’m not going to kill you.”“Oh? And why is that?” She asked coldly. “You’ve obviously killed before.”Levi clenched his jaw. “Yes,” he admitted, “but it’s not what you think. I do work for the Zacklys, but I have nothing to do with their business dealings. I’m just a driver.”“You have a lot of weapons for a chauffeur,” came the dry reply. Even at gunpoint, she has an attitude. Truth be told, he wasn’t all that surprised, especially considering the beat down she'd just given him. “I’m a driver who also acts as a bodyguard when the need arises,” he amended. “But I am not some common thug.” Those days are long over.Mina narrowed her eyes. “If that’s true, then put the gun down.”Levi pressed his lips together. If he did as she asked, there was a very good chance she’d attack him again or try to get the gun herself, but if he didn’t, they’d likely be stuck in this circular conversation forever, and he simply didn’t have the patience for a standoff.“Fine.” He put the safety on and slowly lowered the gun to the floor. Then he kicked it behind him, away from both of them. “Better?”“No.” Mina limped towards him. She stopped when she was directly in front of him, then reached up and slapped him across the face. “Now it’s better.”It apparently wasn’t better, though, because she shoved him back and then slapped him again, her palm leaving a stinging handprint on his cheek. She made to hit him a third time, but Levi grabbed her wrist and spun her around, pressing her into the wall. “Oi,” he growled. “Knock it off.” He tightened his grip in warning and then released her, gesturing towards her bleeding leg. “We need to fix your stitches again.”Mina looked at him like he was crazy. “Are you serious?”“Obviously,” Levi answered, exasperated. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I know you’re upset, and I get it; I lied to you about who I was.” He gave her a pointed look. “But I did save you, and right now I don’t want you bleeding all over my floor. I’ll answer your questions and then you can stay or leave – your choice – but first, the stitches.”Mina pursed her lips, and Levi had a feeling she was deciding whether to accept his proverbial white flag or slap him around some more.Luckily for his face, she chose the former option.“Fine,” she said. “But this time I do want something for the pain.”“Advil? Tylenol? Vicodin?”“Scotch. Neat.” She turned and hobbled to the door, throwing it open with so much force that it hit the wall. “And make it a double,” she added. Four hours and half a bottle of scotch later, Mikasa finally decided she was ready to get some answers.Rising to her feet, she slowly shuffled over to the door and peered out into the hallway. There was no sign of Levi, but she wasn’t surprised; ever since she’d retreated into the spare bedroom after Levi had finished with her stitches, the apartment had been silent.Going down the stairs was much more painful than it had been the previous day, although the numbing effect of too much liquor did help. She took a few more swigs on the way down, and then toddled over to the kitchen, coming to a standstill in the doorway.Apparently, Levi had spent the last few hours the same way she had spent hers. He was sitting at the kitchen table, a bottle of whiskey and a nearly empty tumbler in front of him.He raised his head slightly at her entrance, his gaze flickering to her once again newly bandaged thigh. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled.Mikasa sat down opposite him, sliding heavily into the chair and placing the scotch on the table.Levi raised a brow. “Where’s the glass?”“Upstairs. I got tired of refilling it.”He chuckled dryly and shook his head, then placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I’m surprised you’re still here,” he said.“Believe me, if I wasn’t worried about my safety outside of this apartment, I would have left.”Levi frowned. “Do you really think the Dok guards are still looking for you? It’s been days.”“I don’t think they are,” she answered emphatically. “I know they are.”“Huh.” Levi unscrewed the cap on the whiskey bottle and freshened his drink. “Seems like a lot of trouble to go through over one missing brothel girl.”Mikasa shifted uneasily. He was right, of course. If she were just a brothel girl, it wouldn’t make sense for the Doks to continue looking for her. She’d just be another nameless, homeless whore, not worth the energy of recapturing.But, of course, she wasn’t just a brothel girl.She wondered how close Levi was to figuring that out, or if he’d already reached that conclusion.“Maybe,” she replied vaguely. She straightened up in her chair. “Then again," she added slyly, "you don’t know how good I was. Maybe it’s not so surprising that the Doks want me back.”The silence that followed that statement was loaded, as was the assessing look Levi gave her before he downed the rest of his whiskey.Mikasa couldn’t even believe she’d said something with such blatant innuendo—the liquor must have loosened her tongue.But the thrill that shot down her spine when Levi’s eyes darkened at the comment…She cleared her throat lightly. “So,” she said, shifting the topic of conversation. “You work for the Zacklys.”Levi’s lips tightened almost imperceptibly. “Yes.”“Prove it.”He’d been moving to pour himself another drink, but he froze at her request. “Excuse me?”“Prove it,” Mikasa repeated. “You lied to me about who you were before, so for all I know you’re lying again.”Levi placed the bottle back down on the table. “Why would I lie and tell you I worked for people you hate? That doesn’t make any sense.”“It would make sense if in reality you work for the Doks.”“I don’t,” he said firmly, but when she didn’t reply, he pushed his chair back. “Fine,” he relented, standing up. His fingers began undoing the buttons of his shirt. “You want proof?” He pulled the top half of his shirt apart, exposing his chest. “Here.”Mikasa stared, wide-eyed, at what he’d revealed.There was no doubt about it now: he was definitely who he said he was.There were many kinds of tattoos in the world, but the ones marking Levi’s skin were unmistakable. Eight-sided stars adorned both sides of his chest—marks of prominent respect, and in the center of his rib cage was a cross with an ornate Z in its center—a clear sign of allegiance to one prominent family in the Sina Mafia.“Satisfied?”She should have been, but suddenly she needed to see the rest of them, to see how Levi’s tattoos compared to the inked backs and chests of the Dok men who had used her.She stood up. “I want to see the rest,” she said.He didn’t look happy about it, but Levi obliged her, slipping his shirt from his shoulders and letting it pool on the floor.Mikasa’s breath caught in her throat. His muscular body held more tattoos than she could count, all of them stark and black, all of them homages to chapters of his life—a veritable biography inked across his skin.She knew what some of them meant: the spider on his left side was the mark of a thief; the snarling tiger on his right hip was a sign of hatred towards authority; the skull – which had been inked with a cigar clenched between its teeth – meant that he’d murdered; and the massive cathedral on his back with two cupolas rising from it represented two prison sentences. Mikasa didn’t know what the snake winding up his left arm meant, or the meaning of the half-dagger on his inner right forearm. She knew what the heavy-handed memento mori scrawled across his neck translated to (and also why she’d never seen him wear anything without a collar), but the words above his heart were written in a language she didn’t recognize.“You earned all of these?” She asked quietly, once she’d mastered her shock and regained the use of her voice.Levi held her gaze. “Every single one,” he answered.Fueled as much by her own strange desire as by the liquor, Mikasa reached out and trailed her fingers down the length of the cross on his ribs, letting them linger on the Z at the crux of it. Levi flinched beneath her touch, but Mikasa didn’t retract her hand.“So why,” she asked softly, “would someone like you ever help someone like me?”The flash of something (hurt?) in his eyes was gone too quickly for Mikasa to define it. “Because you needed help, and I was in a position to offer it.”“But you work for the Zacklys. You see girls like me all the time.”He pulled back from her touch. “Not being gunned down.”“Still,” Mikasa argued. “You know how girls like me are treated. What we’re kept for.”At least he had the decency to look mildly guilty. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I know.”“Have you used girls like me?”His answer was immediate and decisive. “No.”Mikasa’s throat tightened. “But you’ve seen others do it," she guessed. "You’ve let others do it.”He didn’t deny it. “Yes, I have.” He lowered his voice. “It’s not my place to question the Zacklys on their choices. I’m just a driver.”Mikasa thought of all the girls she’d been housed with over the past few months. The youngest, Lydia, was barely eighteen. She’d laughed so much, so easily, before the night Nile’s oldest son had broken her in, and then Mikasa had never heard her laugh again. And the others—Nadia, Sabine, Lila...they’d all shared their stories with her, had all spoken of what life would be like if they could just escape. They had all pretended, when they’d had days to themselves, that maybe, someday, their lives would be different. Sabine had overdosed shortly after one of those wishful days, and Nile had told two of his men to dump her body in the river. She’s just some no-name cumbucket, he’d said. The police won’t care. No one will. Mikasa’s anger built like a cold storm inside of her at the injustice of it all. “You’re not just a driver,” she said, finding an easy target in the man standing before her. “You’re responsible.” She shoved him into his chair, acting without thinking. “Do you think the fact that you haven’t raped a girl makes you better than them?” She asked. Her fingers found his belt buckle and yanked. “It doesn’t.”“Mina, what are you—?”“Shut up.” With jerky motions, she undid his buckle and slipped the belt through the loops of his pants. “You're no different than any of them, and I can prove it.” Her voice was shaking, but her hands were steady as she undid the button-fly closure and reached inside his pants. Without so much as a split-second hesitation, she slipped her hand into his boxers, wrapped her hand around him, and squeezed. “See?” She taunted as she began to stroke him, feeling his shaft start to throb in her hand. “You’re just like them.” Oh, fuck, Mina, your pussy’s so fucking good… Nile, his son, his guards…they were all the same, and Levi was no different. He was a killer, a monster, and Mikasa could see nothing but red as she stroked him faster, the trauma of the last six months blinding her to what she was doing.Until Levi’s hand latched onto her wrist. “Mina,” he growled, his voice impossibly strained.Mikasa paused her motions, staring at him, and then she leaned forward, bringing her lips to his ear. “Are you going to tell me to stop?” She whispered, her lips brushing his skin. “Are you going to show me how different you are?” She punctuated the question with a drag of her nail up his cock.The strangled groan and the dribble of precum on her fingers that she got in response made her ache, and it also made her angrier.“Fuck,” Levi gasped. “You…oh, fuck.”Mikasa pulled back enough to see his face. “That’s what I thought,” she said, and then she pulled her hand out of his pants.She was still wearing his boxers, and she slipped them off with ease before Levi could say a word, and then she straddled him, fishing his cock from his pants as she did so. She looked down at him, vulnerable before her, and she arched a brow at him in challenge. “Do you want this?” She asked, daring him to deny it.His eyes were a warring tide of things she didn’t want to see. “Do you?” He asked finally, his voice gentler than it had any right to be.Mikasa slapped him, the concern she could see in his eyes and hear in his voice making her angrier than anything else. “Stop me if you want, but don't speak. You don’t get to ask the questions,” she said as she angled him towards her and slowly began to sink down on him. “You don’t get to do anything,” she concluded, gasping in pain, her hands reflexively landing on his chest to help her balance.The pleasure that darkened Levi's eyes was tempered by more concern as he gauged her discomfort. "Mina—""No." She didn't know what he was going to say, and she didn't want to know. "Just be quiet. I don't want your words."God, how it hurt. He was thick and she wasn’t wet enough to accommodate him easily, but Mikasa worked him inside of her anyway because she didn’t care. It wasn’t about pleasure; it was about domination, about retribution. Levi, covered in the black brands of the Mafia, represented all of the men who had used her and raped her and taken from her, and when Mikasa finally managed to get him fully inside of her, she felt like it was a small victory over all of them. It may have hurt, but she’d chosen this man; she’d decided to have him. And he let me. With a sound that was part-whimper, part-growl, Mikasa began to rock against him, faster than she should have, chasing the pain like other people would’ve chased pleasure. She lost herself to the raw act of sex, drowning in the physicality of it, letting herself stay in the moment in a way she’d never done in her time at the Doks' whorehouse. Detachment had been her savior there, but here and now, impaling herself on the cock of a man who embodied everything she hated but who had paradoxically shown her kindness, she wanted to feel.Inevitably, the pain began to wane as she adjusted to him, and the wetter she got, the better it began to feel. The drag of her nipples on his tattooed chest with every motion began to work her up, as did the sound of Levi’s muffled groans.She dug her nails into his skin as she moved faster, relishing the way his muscles jumped beneath her touch, and it seemed to set Levi off, too, because he started thrusting up into her, pushing himself just that much deeper inside of her.He reached out, his hands coming to rest on her hips for leverage, but Mikasa wrenched them away, ignoring the part of herself that liked the possessive way his fingers had splayed out across the exposed expanse of her skin. “No,” she panted. “I’m…I’m in control.”She closed her eyes and kept moving, repeating that to herself over and over again like a mantra as she felt him swell within her.And then Levi's strokes became frantic, furious, and with a violent swear, he came inside of her. He respected her earlier request, though, gripping the arms of the chair instead of her body as he rode out his orgasm.When his spent cock slipped out of her as she stood up a few heartbeats later, Mikasa whimpered. She was so close to the edge that she could taste it, and for the first time since she’d sunk down on him, she looked into his eyes.Levi must have seen something there – need, probably – because suddenly he was hoisting her up onto the table and moving between her legs. Mikasa leaned back on her elbows as she felt his tongue on her, inside of her, her eyes fluttering shut and her fingers winding instinctively into his hair to pull him closer.She didn’t want this—or at least, she didn’t want to enjoy this, but it felt incredible, better than the pain had felt, better than anything had felt in a long time. She wondered if Levi could taste himself on her, and then she didn’t wonder anything at all because she was shaking, coming, unraveling, her body spasming with the force of her release.Time slowed down, her heartbeat stuttering for a spinning minute with no accompaniment save for the sound of blood rushing in her ears.And then it was over.Mikasa sat up, her anger and pleasure fading as she became all too aware of the reality of the moment...and of what she'd just done.Levi was kneeling on the floor before her, his face covered in her wetness, his cheek still red from the last slap she’d given him.“Mina…”Mikasa stood up, ignoring the way her legs wobbled unsteadily as her feet found the floor. “Don’t call me that,” she said, and then she picked up the discarded boxers she’d been wearing, staggered past him, and limped upstairs without another word. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When Mikasa woke up the next morning, she paradoxically felt the best and worst she had in days. Physically she was a mess: her head and left leg were both throbbing dully and her thigh was swollen, purple bruises already forming beneath and around the bandages, and when she walked to the bathroom she realized that she was incredibly sore inside, too, each step making her wince.But mentally she felt sharp and clear and fueled with determination, as though, somehow, fighting and fucking the Zackly’s driver had knocked some purpose back into her.And for the first time since she’d run from the Doks, Mikasa realized that all hope wasn’t lost. There was another way to complete what she and Eren had started all those months ago, and Levi was her ticket to accomplishing it.It took her a while to get ready and even longer to find some cash, but eventually she was wearing what she hoped was a believable disguise (blended spices weren’t exactly the equivalent of a makeup kit and Levi’s wardrobe didn’t have much in the way of variety), and, after she’d scoured every nook and cranny of Levi’s apartment, she found cash in the last place she’d thought to look: laying in plain sight on the kitchen counter.The folded bills were resting next to a glass of water and two Advil, and just like the previous morning, there was a note beneath the water glass.Mystified, Mikasa picked it up. The money is yours. If you want to leave, go; I promise I will not come looking for you. Mikasa curled the note up in her hand, pondering it as she took the Advil and downed the water. It was a kind, if confusing gesture, much like everything else about Levi. He was a killer and yet he’d shown her mercy. He worked for the Zacklys, but he’d helped a Dok whore. He was exactly what he claimed to be, and yet…A memory of his head between her legs appeared in Mikasa’s mind, followed by the expression on his face after she’d come. “Mina…”Mikasa pressed her lips together and put her used water glass in the sink. She didn’t have the time or inclination to worry about the glimpse of the driver's softer, more vulnerable side that she’d seen last night. He was a pawn in her game, and that was all.Pocketing the money he’d left, Mikasa tucked her hair up into the baseball cap, zipped up the hoodie, and headed outside. Levi was out of cigarettes, which had been a mild annoyance earlier but had now evolved into a massive fucking aggravation. He loathed Tuesdays—the one day a week he had to babysit Darius’ imbecilic son. The twenty-four-year-old heir-apparent had the overblown ego that came with the family name and all the intelligence and grace of a cow. Vincent Zackly, in Levi’s gracious opinion, was an evil son of a bitch and a complete waste of oxygen.Darius Zackly might have been an evil son of a bitch, too, but at least the man was clever.An hour after Levi had dropped Vincent off, the kid came staggering out of the strip club, a bottle of wine clutched in one hand and his other arm draped lazily around some big-breasted dancer. He pushed her away when he spotted Levi and came hobbling over, a boozy grin plastered on his face. “Levi!” He chirped as Levi opened the door of the black sedan and ushered him inside. “You missed all the fun!”“I’m sure I did,” Levi replied dryly as he shut the kid’s door and climbed back into the driver’s seat. When he pulled out into traffic and looked in the rear view, he saw Vincent polishing off the wine, already half-slumped across the seat.“Hey, stop at Pixis’ Place on the way home,” Vincent requested. “I’m hungry.”Levi turned his attention back to the road. “You have a meeting tonight with your father and a few of his friends. We don’t have time to make a detour.”Vincent kicked Levi’s seat. “Fuck that!” He burped. “I hate those prunes. They’re old and boring as fuck.”“Maybe, but those prunes will be your business associates one day. It would be wise to make a good impression.”Vincent waved a dismissive hand and sat up. “Yeah, yeah...you worry too much, Levi. Still make the stop. That’s an order.”Levi’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “As you wish.”He drove well above the speed limit after they’d left Pixis' Place, mostly because Darius had told him to make sure that Vincent was home an hour before their guests arrived and Levi didn’t want to be blamed for Vincent’s tardiness.Vincent’s sobriety level, however, was harder to control.Darius took one look at his son when he came swaggering into the family's spacious city brownstone and slapped him across the face.The startled boy clutched at his cheek. “Papa!” He shouted.Darius didn’t bother replying. He turned to Levi, his gaze cold behind the spectacles he was wearing. “Make sure he sobers up. I will not have him acting like a monkey when the other families arrive.”Levi inclined his head. “I’ll make sure, sir.”“Oh, and Levi,” the Zackly boss said as Levi began to steer Vincent towards the stairs. “I’ll also need you to accompany Vincent to the Doks’ this Friday. I can’t attend, so he needs to go in my place.”Levi couldn’t think of a worse fate than being sentenced to monitor Vincent at the Doks’ annual Halloween soiree, but he wasn’t in a position to refuse. “Of course, sir.”Darius gave him a look that bordered on appreciative. “Very good,” he said, his expression settling back into one of disgust. “Now get him out of my sight.”Levi didn’t need to be told twice. He half-pushed, half-carried the inebriated Zackly up the stairs and ushered him into the bathroom, and then he turned on the shower, leaving the water cold.“Get in,” he ordered, ignoring the way Vincent bitched at him about how bossy he was being. After so many years, his whining was routine, expected.Thirty minutes later, Vincent was showered, changed, and back downstairs, greeting guests, and Levi was scrubbing his shoes clean of the young Zackly's vomit with the hose by the servants’ entrance.Thirty-two minutes later, Levi was back in his own car and once again itching for a smoke. He wondered, idly, what kind of cigarettes Mina liked, or if she smoked at all. He was a fan of Titans—specifically the Red Label kind, but they were too bold for some people.Not that it mattered; Mina was probably long gone, and he was most likely heading home to an empty apartment.It should have been a welcome thought considering that he'd only grudgingly let her stay with him in the first place, but it wasn't. It had been refreshing to have something other than the Zacklys and their shit to worry about, and even though Mina obviously had a very low opinion of him (and really, who could blame her), she'd been a nice distraction. Levi almost liked having her around, and not just because she'd decided to ride his dick yesterday. But oh well. Easy come easy go.Maybe the universe was telling him to revisit his original plan and get out.Maybe he'd even do it tonight...especially if the corner store was out of Titan Reds. Mikasa paid for her coffee at the counter and found a small, unoccupied table in the back, far from the windows and close to the emergency exit. She stirred in a pack of sugar with a leisurely hand, and then sat back and people watched until the coffee cooled.Most of the people in the café were coupled up, sitting and chatting with each other as they sipped on their lattes. There were a few loners mixed in with the other patrons, but all except one had laptops and were glued to their respective screens. The one non-laptop bearing patron had a book in his hands, a foreign work that had badly dog-eared corners, and he would occasionally adjust the glasses that kept slipping down his nose as he read, but other than that he didn’t move. Still, Mikasa was intending to wait until he left before doing anything. It was always better to err on the side of caution, after all. A few minutes later, though, a young girl sat down across from the reader—a student, judging by her greeting of “Hello, Professor Moore!” and Mikasa relaxed.It was only then, when she was absolutely sure that everyone around her was oblivious to what she was doing that she took out the TracFone she’d bought earlier and dialed a number.He answered on the second ring. “Hello?”“It’s Mikasa.” There was no need to state her full name.A pause, then, in a more urgent tone than she was used to hearing, “Are you all right? You’ve been dark for nearly a week.”“I’m sorry. I couldn’t find a way to contact you sooner.”“You were wise to play it safe,” he replied. “We have intel on what happened at the Doks. I take it your cover is blown?”It galled Mikasa to admit it, but she did. “Yes.”She heard him sigh through the phone. “That is…unfortunate. You were making such headway.” Another pause. “Are you at liberty to disclose your location? I’ll send a car for you.”“That won’t be necessary,” Mikasa answered, lowering her voice and raising her coffee cup to her lips to hide what she was saying. “My old position is irrecoverable, but I may still be able to complete our mission. I have an…an in of sorts with the rival family. I think I can use it to our advantage.”She could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “You’re referring to the Zacklys? Mikasa, you’re a good agent, but I don’t—”“Please, sir,” she interrupted. “I know it’s a risk, but my current contact knows me as Mina and nothing more, and I believe I can manipulate that to achieve our endgame.""Explain.""In the months leading up to last week, Eren and I amassed a large amount of damning evidence against our targets, and I believe that, by using my new contact as an intermediary, I will be able to use that evidence to incite a war between the families. I have a plan to see this through. Please give me the opportunity to do so.” She paused. “I haven’t let you down before,” she added.The silence on the other end of the line felt unending. Finally, though, an answer came. “Very well,” he said. “I don’t like the idea of gambling with your safety, but if what you say is true, then I have little choice. You may stay out in the field a little while longer, provided you check in with me as regularly as possible. Details aren’t necessary, but updates are. Understood?”A small, triumphant smile pulled at Mikasa’s lips. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”“You’re welcome.” The formality in his tone waned. “On a more personal note, please know how sorry I am about your partner. Eren was a good agent…a good man.”It wasn’t enough—nothing ever would be, but Mikasa appreciated it all the same. “Yes,” she answered thickly. “He was.” She swallowed. “Goodbye, Erwin. I’ll check in as soon I have news to share.”“Be safe,” came the reply, and then the line went dead.Mikasa stayed in the café for a few more minutes before she dumped the remainder of her tepid coffee in the trash and walked outside.She knew she shouldn't linger downtown too long because her disguise was not fool-proof by any stretch of the imagination and the Dok men might still be out looking for her, but she took a more roundabout route than necessary anyway, using the extra minutes to mentally prepare herself for the coming days. What had happened yesterday could not happen again. She'd told Erwin, all those months ago, that she could do this, that going undercover was a challenge she could rise to, but the reality of it had been harder than she'd ever imagined it would be. Being Mina and allowing herself to be used time and again...it had been almost too much, and the line between the character she was playing and who she truly was had slowly started to fade. Some days, that line seemed to disappear completely, and it became impossible for her to separate herself from her role. Yesterday was a perfect example of that. She'd given into her emotions completely, had lashed out and acted in a foolish way, had used Levi - a man she didn't know and couldn't trust - as a balm to heal her wounds. Erwin had asked her if she was all right, and the real answer was no—she wasn't all right. She was failing to stay objective, failing to mentally compartmentalize her life as Mina and her identity as Agent Ackerman, and she probably should have told Erwin that it was time to pull the plug, that she needed to come off active duty for a while. But she couldn't. Eren - her partner of four years and the closest thing to family she'd had left - had died on this assignment, and she owed it to his memory to see this through.She owed it to herself, too; she'd invested too much in this mission to turn back now.I can do this, she vowed. I will be more careful going forward, more objective. And I will not lose control again like I did yesterday. I won't. Feeling marginally more grounded, Mikasa stopped meandering and headed back to Levi’s apartment. By the time she was within a few blocks of her temporary home, her focus was the most honed it had been in days. Without breaking stride, she turned into a nearby alley, broke her phone in half, tossed the pieces in the dumpster, and kept walking. When Levi finally stepped into his apartment later that night, he was met with a substantial surprise.Mina was still there.Against all odds and reasoning, she hadn’t bolted.She was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs with an untouched mug of tea in front of her, and she’d clearly been there for a while, seeing as no steam was rising from the dark liquid.Levi set his newly purchased carton of cigarettes down on the counter and looked at her. “You stayed.”Mina nodded. “Yes,” she replied, slipping her hands into the pockets of the hoodie – his hoodie – that she was wearing. “Are you wishing I hadn’t?” She asked, her dark eyes regarding him with a kind of calm curiosity.“No,” he answered quietly. “I’m…” glad. He cleared his throat. “It’s fine. I told you that you could stay or go, and I meant it.”Mina nodded. “Okay.” She stood up and gestured to the cigarettes. “Do you mind sharing one? I like Reds.”“Why not,” he said with a hint of humor. He inclined his head towards her latest outfit. “We’ve been sharing everything else.”A small smile appeared on Mina’s face. “So we have,” she answered, a devious glint appearing in her eyes. “But if you feel like I’m taking advantage of your hospitality, I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you.”A memory of last night’s activities flashed through Levi’s mind. Getting slapped around hadn’t been the greatest, but everything else…“I think you already did,” he murmured, and then he swiped the smokes off the counter and headed to the back door. “C’mon,” he said, holding it open for her. “There’s a spot out back. I don’t smoke inside.”The 'spot' was really just a small patch of grass that had once been a garden but was now just grass again, and two lawn chairs that the previous tenant hadn't felt like taking with him or selling. It was far from glamorous and boasted nothing better than a view of the neighboring building’s back brick wall, but Mina didn’t seem to mind. She sat down in one of the chairs and Levi took the other, and they smoked in silence. Mina relaxed more easily than he did, leaning back in her chair and looking up. Despite the ease in her posture, though, her expression seemed to grow more and more melancholy as she gazed at the patches of night sky visible through the ambient, omnipresent haze of Sina’s city lights.“I miss Eren,” she said a few minutes later as she flicked the butt of her finished cigarette away.Levi remembered the name. “Your brother.”“Yes.” Mina’s dark eyes found his. “He died because of me.”There was more guilt in her voice than Levi would have expected, and it bothered him. “I doubt that,” he said. “I didn’t know your brother, but you told me he came to find you. His goal was to get you out, and you got out. He did what he set out to do.” He took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out with the heel of his shoe. "To be honest," he added quietly, "I think that makes him one of the lucky ones. Most of us don't even get that much out of this shitty life."Mina looked at him strangely, her delicate brows drawing together in a way that somehow managed to convey sadness, sympathy, and understanding all at once. It was like she could see him, and Levi wasn’t used to that. He stood up. "I'm going to grab a shower," he said, inwardly cringing at how much it came off sounding like a way to escape the conversation. "Lock the door when you come in."If Mina noticed, she didn't call him out on it. "I will,” she promised. "Goodnight, Levi."Levi paused. He’d been about to say Goodnight, Mina, when he remembered her comment from the previous night. Don’t call me that. He could have asked her why, but he didn’t. In his experience, questions begot questions, and he wasn’t ready to answer any of his own.So he kept his silence and his distance, just like he always did.“Goodnight,” he replied simply, and then he went inside. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- She wanted something.Levi might not have known a lot about his unconventional house guest, but he was adept at reading body language, and between her fidgeting (the cuffs of his shirt were going to be irreparably fucking wrinkled if she kept worrying at them like that) and the restrained words simmering in her eyes, it was pretty damn obvious that she had something on her mind.Levi, however, wasn’t one to pry. He’d found that – almost always – people revealed much and more when you just stayed quiet and listened.So all he said was, “You’re up early.”Mina tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I like early mornings,” she replied. “There’s a softness to them…a peaceful kind of quiet.”Levi scoffed. “Sina is never quiet. No city is.” He moved to the cabinet above the sink. “Would you like some tea?”“Yes, please.” Her tone was almost exaggeratedly polite.“All I have is black.”“That’s fine.”Levi got her a cup and saucer and poured the remaining hot water for her, then placed the teabag on her saucer. “Here.”She took it from him with a murmured word of thanks, and Levi frowned, once again confused by her politeness. “No need to thank me. It's just some store bought crap that passes for tea. I used to go to specialty shops and purchase quality tea leaves, but…”Mina raised a brow as she dunked the teabag in the water. “But?”“I don’t have time anymore.” It was a sad, true statement if ever there was one. His life before he’d joined the Zacklys had been vastly different. He’d had time to pursue his own interests and passions, time to cultivate himself as a person. But the last seven years had robbed him of that, and now he was Levi the Driver. Nothing more.“Right,” Mina replied, her politeness cooling. “Because of your job.”He could hear the distaste in her voice, and it made Levi feel incredibly tired. He’d lost track of how many comments like that he’d received over the years—the snide ones full of disgust or distaste for what he did and for who he associated with. It was better than the fearful stares, though; those made him feel less than human, like some kind of monster. At least the people that were angry with him still viewed him as a man.“Can I ask you something?” Mina said a few minutes later, when she was nearly done her tea and it was very obvious that the silence between them would drag on otherwise.“Why not,” Levi acquiesced, keeping the smugness he felt out of his voice. So he’d been right; she had wanted something after all.But her question was not one he’d been anticipating.“How did you get involved with the Zacklys?” She asked.Levi faltered. He couldn’t tell her the real reason, obviously, but for the first time in a long while, Levi found himself lost for words, no lie springing easily to his lips.Mina misinterpreted his reticence. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s none of my business. It’s just that you seem…” She pursed her lips, searching for a word. “Different,” she finally settled on, ironically choosing the same descriptor he'd mentally ascribed to her own character. “You don’t act like the men I knew at the Doks.”“The Zacklys aren’t the Doks,” he answered, his wits returning. “They’re more powerful and much more high society.” And also more depraved and cruel than the Doks could ever be.Mina took a sip of her tea. “So they could wipe out the Doks if they wanted to?”It was another curveball of a question, and it hit Levi in the gut with a punch made all the more effective considering the fact that Mina had asked it conversationally, as if she’d been inquiring about how he took his tea.He recovered quickly, though. “Yes,” he answered slowly, trying to figure out her angle. He was sure she had one. “Hypothetically, the Zacklys could take out the Doks if they wanted to, but they have no reason to do so in actuality. They may technically be rivals, but there’s been peace between them for three generations.”Finally, Mina showed her hand. “What if I told you something that had the power to shake that peace?” She asked.“Something that would make the Zacklys lash out?” Levi pictured the potential massacre and upheaval that would cause—complete with Nile Dok’s head ending up on a proverbial silver platter. He crossed his arms and took the bait. “I’d listen,” he said, “if you really had information with that kind of power.”Mina placed her teacup back in the saucer and straightened. “I do,” she said. “And I’ll give it to you. On one condition.”“Name it.” You’re very calculating for a prostitute, aren’t you, Mina?“You share it with Darius Zackly in a way that makes him seek retribution.”And suddenly it all made sense. “You want revenge, don’t you?” Levi surmised. “For what they did to your brother.”“Yes,” Mina answered without hesitation. “After what they did to Eren and to me, I’d say I’ve earned it.”Levi leaned back against the counter, regarding her quietly. She’d endured terrible things at the hands of the Dok men, and yet she stood there now, all mission and fury and purpose. She’d been broken, but instead of falling apart or struggling to put her pieces back together, she’d sharpened those pieces into knives and fashioned herself into a vehicle for vengeance.It was impressive, and also the kind of commitment and strength that demanded respect.So that, combined with the fact that he also relished the thought of seeing a war break out between the families, made his decision an easy one. “You have my word,” he agreed. “If your information really is as valuable as you think it is, I will spin it in a way that will rouse Darius’ anger.”It was like a weight lifted from Mina’s shoulders. “Thank you,” she said.Levi raised a brow. “Well? Are you going to tell me or what?”“I can’t.”Levi began to interject, but Mina hasted on. “I have to show you, and that will take a bit more effort.” She paused. “You see, I have evidence that the Doks have been skimming a substantial portion off the top of the profit from the narcotics business they share with the Zacklys. They’ve diverted tens of thousands of dollars into their own accounts and have been forging the documentation they provide. It’s been going on for years, right under the Zacklys’ noses. And that’s not all.” Mina lowered her voice, despite the fact that they were alone. “I know that Darius’ oldest son, the one who was groomed to inherit his father’s business, found out, and the Doks murdered him so that he couldn’t take the proof to his father. They made it look like a suicide, but it wasn’t.”It was a good thing he was leaning back against the counter, because the shock of that news was immense. Levi remembered Fenton Zackly. He’d been Vincent Zackly’s older brother, and what the younger sibling lacked, the older sibling had had in spades. Fenton had been intelligent, suave, well liked, and had exhibited extreme discretion in all of his business and personal affairs. Darius had favored him—a fact that he’d never chosen to hide from his younger son. Fenton was his protégé, his heir, his pride, so when Fenton had decided to take a million dollar bath after his girlfriend had left him for someone else, Darius had tracked the girl down and buried her and her family alive as retribution.If it turned out, all this time later, that the Doks had been responsible instead…Levi felt his heart begin to pound. “Words are not proof,” he said, keeping his excitement at bay. “Do you have any tangible evidence of these claims you make?”Mina's response was instantaneous. “Yes. I kept a journal during my time at the Doks’ whorehouse.” Coldness seeped into her voice. “You’d be surprised how much a man will divulge after he’s spent himself inside you,” she said. “I learned a great deal from Nile and his associates, and I kept logs of our conversations.”“Conversations are still just words.”“Maybe, but I have bank account numbers to back them up, and I know where the file on Fenton Zackly is.”Levi’s jaw dropped. “How the fuck did you manage to get bank account numbers?”“That’s not important,” Mina deflected. “The important thing is that I have them, along with the combination to Nile’s private safe, which is where he keeps the file on Fenton.”Levi stared at her, flabbergasted. Who the fuck are you, Mina? Really? He didn’t ask her, though. Instead, he said, “And where is this journal of yours now?”For the first time that morning, Mina’s confidence seemed to waver. “Back in the room assigned to me at the Doks'. When I ran, it all…it happened so quickly.” Her shoulders sagged. “I didn’t have time to retrieve it. It was incredibly stupid of me.”“It wasn’t stupid,” Levi said, defending her from herself. “You were on heroin, your brother had just been murdered, and you were running for your life. It’s amazing you got out with even the clothes on your back.”Mina glanced over at him. “Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that I left without the power to crush the Doks for what they did.” She took a breath and then raised her chin. “But I am going to figure out a way to get it back,” she said. “And once I do, I’ll expect you to hold up your end of our bargain.”“Actually,” Levi said as something dawned on him, “I think I know how we can get your journal.”It was Mina’s turn to look surprised. “How?” She asked.“The Doks host a Halloween party every year on the last Friday in October, which is this coming Friday. Hired help doesn’t usually get invited, but Darius ordered me to go with Vincent. We could smuggle you in if you know where the servants’ entrance is.”“I do,” Mina answered, “but the Doks all know what I look like. Someone will recognize me.”“No, they won’t.” When he saw her confusion, he added, “The party is a masquerade ball—everyone wears masks.”Mina’s lips parted to form a perfect oh of surprise. “Levi, that would be perfect. I’ll be able to slip in and out and none of the Doks will ever know.”Levi nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s the safest chance you’ll get.” He held her gaze. “But before I agree to help you do this, I have a condition of my own. A request, if you will.”Mina’s guard instantly went up, her excitement receding into a mask of defensiveness. “Very well,” she said reluctantly. “Name it.”There were a great many things Levi wanted to know, but chief among them was the most basic question of all, the key to something that he’d only realized was a secret two nights ago.“What is your real name?” He asked her.She was quiet and still for so long that Levi though she would refuse to answer him or offer him some deflection instead, but in the end, she didn’t.“Mikasa,” she said, and her dark eyes were brimming with so much vulnerability than Levi knew it wasn’t a lie. “My real name is Mikasa.” Levi got home late that night—later than he had any other night since Mikasa had started staying with him.She was upstairs already, preparing for bed, when she heard him come in. She’d left dinner for him in the fridge, but within seconds she heard him on the stairs.She opened her door when he reached the landing.“Hi,” she greeted.“Hi...Mikasa.” He paused between the hello and her name as if he were still getting used to it, and truth be told, it was a little jarring to hear her real name cross his lips.It didn’t make her uncomfortable, though, and that surprised her, because she still wasn't convinced that revealing her name had been the wisest move. She'd done it because a tug of intuition had told her that he would know if she gave another false name instead, but protecting her real name had been sacrosanct up to then, and now a piece of her armor was stripped away. So why doesn't it feel that way? She pushed the thought away and leaned against the door frame, coming back to the moment. “I left dinner for you in the fridge,” she told him.“I know,” Levi responded, stepping towards her. “I'm just not hungry.”Beneath the hall light, Mikasa could see how haggard he looked. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, and everything from the slope of his shoulders to the frown lines on his forehead conveyed his fatigue.It raised her concern more than it should have. “Are you all right?” She asked.Levi tried for an indifferent shrug. “Bad day,” he said. “But nothing more than the usual shit.” His lips twisted up in a self-deprecating way. “You can reel in your pity, by the way. You don’t have to act concerned. I know you hate what I do.” Yes, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. “I’m gonna grab a shower,” he continued before she had a chance to form any kind of meaningful reply. “Goodnight, Mikasa.”She was still standing there in the doorway of the spare bedroom when the bathroom door closed, and she was still there a few minutes later when she heard him turn the shower on.Mikasa knew she should leave well enough alone, knew that whatever was eating away at the Zackly driver wasn’t her business or her burden, and yet she wanted to do something, wanted to make him feel better. He’d agreed to help her with her plan to take down the Doks, after all, and if he were really as terrible as the rest of the Zacklys, he wouldn’t have done that, right?She was probably grasping at straws with that summation, but it was still the tenuous truth she clung to as she slipped out of her clothes and padded into the bathroom.That, and the lie that she was only doing this for his benefit.There was steam on the mirror and on the glass walls of the square shower in the corner, which made the tattoos on Levi’s back appear blurred and indistinct, but when Mikasa stepped closer and tapped on the glass to get his attention, she could make out the details she’d seen the other day, along with other, unfamiliar tattoos that adorned his legs.Levi turned in surprise, his eyes widening as he saw her standing there, his gaze dragging over her body when he realized she was naked.Mikasa took her own sweet time looking over his body, her perusal lingering at the V of his hips and lower, her lips pulling up in a mischievous smirk when she saw him twitch beneath her gaze.“May I join you?” She asked.He stood there for a heartbeat beneath the spray of the shower, just staring at her, and then he wordlessly slid the door open, making room for her as she stepped into the shower. He didn’t touch her, but the way he watched her as the water began to dampen her skin and hair was almost more intimate.“I don’t understand you,” he said at length, his voice little more than a mumble.“Do you need to?” She challenged.“No, but…”Mikasa put a finger to his lips. “You’ve agreed to help me, so I want to help you. It doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.” Even if it was. “You had a bad day, and I can make it better. Would you like me to?”Levi seemed to be at odds with himself—Mikasa could see the desire to puzzle her out in his eyes, but she could also see his desire for her, and the latter seemed to win out.He nodded, almost imperceptibly, and Mikasa smiled, once more feeling the small rush of victory she’d felt two nights ago when she’d had him in her hand.This time, she knelt down and took him in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she set to her task, to block out both the water and the sight of his tattoos. She’d been face to face with too many inked abdomens already, forced to bob before them like a blow-up doll, forced to look between the tattooed eyes painted on their bodies and the lust-filled eyes of the men she was on her knees for, men she hated.Levi didn’t ask her to open her eyes, nor did he fist his hands into her hair and shove his cock down her throat like others had. He stayed silent and still as she sucked him to stiffness, not even moaning when she reached a hand up to fondle his balls (although she did feel his quads flex against her arm). When she gently scraped her teeth up his shaft, however, he cursed and reflexively reached for her, his fingers winding into her hair.Mikasa released him with a pop and a smirk. Apparently, the Zackly driver liked a little pain with his pleasure: the first time it had been her nail and this time it had been her teeth. She’d have to remember that.No, the saner part of her argued. Because this won’t happen again. It shouldn’t even be happening now. She’d promised herself that she would be stronger, more cautious, that she wouldn’t lose control again, that she would hold herself together for the sake of the mission.But she was wet and hurting and he was here, so she ignored the voice of reason, listening instead to Levi’s two husky, growled words.“Stand up.”She did. It was an order, but it was an order she could refuse, and that made all the difference.“What now?” She asked, letting him lead. She could feel his cock brushing against her thigh, hot and heavy, and she rubbed her leg against him purposely, teasingly, wanting to work him up.A muscle clenched in Levi’s already tight jaw. “Turn around.”She did, putting her hands on the shower wall and sticking her ass out towards him.He rubbed himself against her, doing some of his own teasing, but the question he asked wasn't teasing at all. “Are you sure you want this?” He murmured quietly, his voice much more controlled than it had been moments before.Mikasa couldn’t see his face anymore, but she nodded over her shoulder. “Yes.”Apparently satisfied, he lined himself up and slid inside her then, slowly, inch by inch, until she was stuffed full of him and whimpering. It felt good, so good, but it was sweet and slow and it scared her. Tenderness was reserved for lovers, for people who cared about each other, and that wasn’t them. That wasn’t what this was.Biting her lip against the pleasure she felt, she said, “Don’t be gentle.” I want this to hurt, she pleaded silently. I need it to hurt. Levi didn’t seem to understand that, though. He acquiesced her to a certain extent, gripping her hips tightly and setting a pace that others would have called rough, but Mikasa could feel him holding back, and even though it shouldn’t have, it made her angry.Reaching back, she pushed him away, ignoring the surprised grunt he made as he slipped out of her.She turned around and gripped his cock, squeezing. “I said I don’t want gentle,” she said, forgetting that she was supposed to be catering to what he wanted this time. I don’t want you to be different than the others. I want to hate you. Her anger seemed to rouse his own. “Fine,” he said. “You want it rough?” He hoisted her legs up and shoved her against the wet, tiled wall. “I’ll be rough.” He drove himself into her, going balls deep in one swift thrust.Mikasa’s head lolled back against the wall and her mouth opened reflexively. “Yes,” she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Like that.”Levi didn’t hold back this time. His movements were fast and deep and relentless, and after a few minutes of violent thrusts, Mikasa could feel bruises forming on her spine from the impact of being shoved against the wall again and again. She could feel the damage inside, too, could even feel him knocking at her cervix like a battering ram on his deepest thrusts, but the pain felt good and she was too wet to care about how sore she would be later on.Her orgasm came over her unexpectedly, and she cried out, her nails digging into Levi’s tattooed skin as she clawed at him and held on for dear life. He fucked her through it, not slowing even a little, wringing every ounce of pleasure from her until she went limp, her body only held up by the solid muscle of his chest at her front and the slick tiled wall of the shower at her back.Still, Levi didn’t stop. He crushed her into the wall, angling her pelvis so he could drive in just a little deeper, and before long, Mikasa could feel herself building towards another orgasm.Then she felt his fingers on her throat. He pushed her head against the wall and tightened his grip, hard enough to get her attention but not hard enough to choke her.“Am I…monster…enough…for you…now?” He asked, the sentence punctuated by quick, brutal jerks of his hips.Their eyes locked in that moment, and despite the steam fogging up the air and the walls around them, Mikasa felt a chill shock through her at the clarity and understanding in their shared gaze.Broken souls always recognize each other, someone had told her once, but she had never experienced it—not until now. She could see Levi’s hurt and anger, could see the self-loathing in his eyes, and all of it was so familiar that it was like staring into a mirror.He’d held his emotions in check but she’d forced his hand, had broken his control in order to make him break her because otherwise nothing about him or her or their situation made any sense.She should have told him no, should have told him that he wasn’t a monster, at least not here, that right now, she was much more of a monster than him.But she didn't. She might have initiated this under the auspices of making him feel better, but the truth was that she didn't have it in her to offer comfort when all she could feel was turmoil. So all she said in answer to his question as he continued to pound into her body was a stuttering, “Ye-yes…”And then she was cumming, her body clenching like a vise around his cock as his fingers clenched around her throat, and she felt the tears come moments later, streaming from her eyes just like the water streaming from the shower head above them.She heard Levi roar as he reached his own peak, felt him let go inside of her, and then it was just the sound of her pounding heart and the steady drone of the shower, filling their tiny, fogged-up glass cubicle like so much white noise.“Mikasa?” The driver's voice sounded miles away.She opened her eyes, hoping that Levi would confuse their glassiness for shower water instead of tears. “Don’t,” she said preemptively as she wriggled off of him and settled her feet back on the floor. She could see the question forming on his lips, could see it shining in his eyes. “Don’t ask me that. Not unless you’re prepared to answer it yourself.”Her words had the desired effect. Levi stepped away, his expression shutting down until he was a blank, unreadable canvas. Are you okay? Neither of them were, and both of them seemed to know it.Without speaking, Levi opened the shower door and stepped out, and Mikasa felt goosebumps rising on her arms as a gust of cooler air swept into the overheated shower.She watched in silence as Levi grabbed a towel, ran it over his dripping hair, and then wrapped it around his hips. “You can finish your shower first,” he said without looking at her, his words almost drowned out by the water. “Just let me know when you’re done.”Mikasa stood dumbly beneath the spray after he left, staring at the door as the driver’s seed trickled down her thighs. She stayed like that until the water went cold and her legs grew tired, and then she turned off the water and sank down to the shower floor, drawing her knees up to her chest like a child. Are you okay? The unspoken question haunted her, but not only because the answer was that she might never be okay again. It also haunted her because she couldn’t figure out why Levi’s reality was apparently the same, why a member of the mafia who’d probably done terrible things in his service to the Zackly family could be so full of conflict, contradiction, and brokenness. And she couldn’t understand why she cared, and that haunted her most of all.She should have been thinking about the progress she'd made that morning in gaining her goal and getting Levi to go along with her plan, should have been mentally preparing for Friday night and the Dok party. But instead, sitting on the floor of the shower in a cold, wet, shivering huddle, Mikasa put her head on her knees, wrapped her arms around herself, and cried. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Doks may have had a reputation for being some of the least likeable people in the city, but no one could deny that they knew how to throw a damn fine party. Their soirees were the very personification of the seven deadly sins: status, opulence, indulgence, finery of every imaginable kind...it was all there, ripe for the taking, and the Doks knew how to brand it in a unique, immersive way that kept people talking for weeks. Everyone who was anyone yearned to attend a Dok party, but only the most elite members of high society ever received an invitation. Exclusivity, after all, whet appetites like nothing else could.This year's Halloween masquerade was no exception. When guests stepped beyond the imposing threshold, they were transported to another place and time, and all the rules of the daytime world fell away.The entirety of the Doks’ mansion was bedecked in black and gold, and even the walls seemed to glitter darkly upon entry. Curtains of liquid gold adorned every doorway, tied back with black silk ribbons, and the fabrics gleamed in the light of the flickering candelabras that hung suspended from the high-ceilinged halls. Electricity had been eschewed entirely in favor of candles, bathing everything in a dimness that reflected the air of mystique about the place. Masked wait staff floated through the halls and rooms with gilded trays full of exotic delicacies and brimming champagne glasses, making sure no guest was without food or beverage. A string orchestra was playing minor waltzes in the grand ballroom, accompanying the guests dancing on the marble floor, and upstairs, a DJ was catering to a different crowd, playing house music in the Doks’ personal bar, which had been done up in the style of a steampunk speakeasy.The finishing touch to the extravaganza was the guests themselves, all of whom were dressed to the nines and covered in jewels and diamonds worth more than most people made in a lifetime. The men’s suits were all tailored to perfection, and most were adorned with diamond cuff links and satin bow ties. The women’s gowns were even more impressive, the expensive silks and satins rustling as their wearers moved through the house.More than a few of the ladies bestowed Levi with a red-lipped smile as he passed by, their eyes glittering through the slits of their masks, but Levi’s own face remained impassive, unmoved by their interest.Parties like this were outlets for the usually buttoned-up crowd, the masks an excuse to give in to hidden desires and act on sinful impulses that they denied while in their own skins. Anonymity and intoxication bred an air of freedom the likes of which didn’t exist outside of these lavish parties, and Levi could have easily played that to his advantage. Hidden by his own black and green mask, no one knew he was hired help; he was just a man like any other, and the world was his oyster.Not that he gave a shit. In his opinion, all of these rich assholes could stuff it.One woman did catch his attention, however—a tall, striking redhead who moved with a liquid grace and confidence that made many heads turn as she passed by. There was something about her that seemed almost familiar…but Levi didn’t dwell much on it.Tonight, for once, he had a particular purpose.And it wasn’t just to make sure that Vincent Zackly didn’t cause a scene.“Can I refresh your drink, sir?”Levi glanced up at the waiter who’d approached him and shook his head. The man bowed slightly and moved away, leaving Levi alone once more.As he’d been doing for the past hour, he looked at the old-fashioned, ornate clock hanging on the far wall.Ten minutes to twelve.Levi frowned. Mikasa should have checked in by now. Before they’d left his apartment, they’d agreed to meet at eleven thirty, regardless of the mission’s success.Now she was twenty minutes late and counting.Deciding to go investigate what the hold up was, Levi moved towards the door——right as Vincent Zackly strode in and threw an arm about his shoulders. “Levi!” The young heir cried. “I’ve been looking for you for fucking ever, man,” he complained. “Come on. I met these twins that are dying to meet a working man.”Levi suppressed his frustration. “Not now, Vincent.”The young Zackly’s grip tightened. “Don’t be boring, Levi. I’m doing you a favor! I want us both to have a little fun tonight. Don't be such an ungrateful prick!”Cursing under his breath, Levi acquiesced. “All right, Vincent. Show me your twins.”Vincent released him with a laugh. “That’s more like it!” He exclaimed, striding away and beckoning Levi after him.Levi followed with a scowl, resigning himself to participate in whatever inane mischief the young heir wanted to entangle himself in. The sooner he appeased Vincent, the sooner he would be able to find Mikasa, and the sooner they would be able to leave.As he followed Vincent into the corridor, the clock struck twelve. A feeling of nausea swept through Mikasa when she entered her old room at the Doks, and she suddenly felt uncomfortably hot beneath the ruffled layers of the black satin gown she was wearing.The place looked more or less the same as it had when she’d left—one small dresser in the corner, a standing lamp in another, and the bed that she'd…Mikasa closed her eyes against the memories that came to mind. Focus on the task at hand, she willed herself. Not on what you endured here. Still feeling faintly nauseated, Mikasa strode over to the dresser and knelt down, reaching an arm beneath the bottom and searching for the journal she’d kept taped there.She felt nothing but wood.For an alarming second, Mikasa thought that someone had discovered her journal and taken it, and panic swept through her. Not ready to give up, though, she hunkered down until she was eye level with the bottom of the dresser and reached a little further beneath it, and just when she was about to give up, her hand brushed against a familiar piece of leather.Giving a sigh of relief, she gripped the corner of the small journal and tugged. With only a slight cling of resistance from the tape, she pulled the journal free.Which is when she heard a door opening in the other room.Mikasa bolted to her feet and hastily brushed the dust from her dress and the surface of the journal and then tucked the small logbook into the garter belt concealed high up on her upper thigh. She was just smoothing down the ruffles of her dress when she heard someone gasp.“Are you lost, ma’am? Guests are not supposed to be here.”Mikasa turned at the sound of the familiar voice, stifling a gasp of her own. “Lydia,” she breathed, forgetting her cover in a second of overwhelming compassion.The eighteen-year-old girl was a shadow of her former self, all skin and bones and dark circles beneath her doe eyes, her rouged cheeks the only spot of color on her otherwise pale skin. She was dressed only in lingerie and heels, and the tracks on her arm were deeper than they'd been when Mikasa had last laid eyes on her.The young girl looked at Mikasa's masked face dubiously for a moment before her eyes cleared slightly and her lips parted. “Mina?” She whispered. “Is it…is it really you?”Mikasa nodded, feeling tears prick her eyes beneath the ornate black and green mask she wore. “It’s me,” she admitted.A look of fear replaced the surprise on the younger girl’s face. “You…why would you come back here?” She stammered. “You shouldn’t be here. If any of the Doks found out, they would—”“I know.” Mikasa walked over and placed a reassuring hand on the girl’s skinny arm. “I’m leaving soon. I just had to retrieve something of mine that I left here.”Lydia’s brows drew together, a divot appearing on her forehead. “Is it true, Mina? What they were saying about you? That you weren’t really one of us, that you were some kind of…of spy?”Mikasa’s gaze drifted once more around her old room before homing back in on the eighteen-year-old. “Regardless of what they say about me, never doubt that I was one of you,” she said quietly. Like Lydia, she knew what it was like to be touched by men she loathed, knew what it was like to be used and abused for the sake of another person's pleasure. She knew what it was like to dream of freedom but not have it.Lydia’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m glad you got out,” she said. “You had it worse than I did. You were Nile’s favorite.”Mikasa shuddered involuntarily. “Nile,” she repeated, the name sounding like a curse as she spoke it. A terrible thought occurred to her. “Did he question you after I escaped?”Lydia nodded. “Yes,” she confessed. “But of course none of us knew anything, and that only made him angrier. I’ve never seen him so enraged.” A tremor shook Lydia's waifish frame. “I can't imagine what he would've done to you if he'd caught you, Mina.”Mikasa’s throat tightened. “Did he take that anger out on you? Or on the other girls?”Lydia looked away instead of answering, and Mikasa felt fury building inside of her. How dare he hurt this girl? She thought, enraged. How dare he? With effort, she mastered her temper. “Lydia, I promise you that I will make him pay for it,” she vowed. “Someday soon.”The girl reached up and grasped Mikasa's hands. “Oh, Mina, you mustn’t. Just leave before they figure out that you’re here. Don’t worry about me or the others. Save yourself.”Mikasa nearly told the other girl to come with her, to leave right then and there, but the saner part of her brain kept her from speaking. As much as she wanted to help Lydia, she couldn’t. Not now. She still had to retrieve the documents from the safe, still had a mission to complete, and she wouldn't succeed if she had to look after a drug-addled eighteen-year-old while doing it.But she would return. She would return for all of them.Her heart in her throat, Mikasa gave the younger girl a nod. “Okay,” she said, hating herself for it. “I’ll go.”The visible way that Lydia relaxed only made Mikasa feel worse. “Good,” she said with a sigh, and then she reached out her stick thin arms and gave Mikasa a weak hug. “Take care, Mina.”You too stuck in Mikasa’s throat, so she just gave the other girl as tender a smile as she could muster and strode from the room.She didn’t run into any of the other girls on her way out of the brothel wing of the Dok estate, which was a small saving grace. Emotionally, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to handle it. She hadn’t expected to run into any of the girls at all, because on nights such as this, the Doks usually dressed them up and told them to go entertain the guests. Seeing Lydia’s deterioration and knowing that she was continuing to endure the suffocating existence Mikasa had broken free of made her want to weep.But it also fueled her determination.Like the whores’ quarters, Nile’s private quarters were fairly deserted, and Mikasa moved quickly and quietly through the halls until she arrived in front of a pair of imposing double doors—the entrance to Nile’s study.Pushing one open just enough, she slipped inside, and then, after scanning the room to make sure she was alone, Mikasa hurried over to the safe in the corner.And then all of her adrenaline-fueled purpose was snuffed out by a wave of dismay.“No...” she breathed, staring helplessly at the safe in front of her.When she’d resided here, Nile had still used a somewhat anachronistic, six-digit lock to secure his most clandestine business files, but now the keypad was gone, replaced by a simple screen with no buttons or numbers of any kind on its surface. A fingerprint scanner. “My, my, my, what do we have here?”Mikasa whirled around, her dismay deepening as she came face to face with Nile Dok himself.He was dressed immaculately but he looked just as slimy as he always did, his trademark half-sneer in place, his eyes rheumy with alcohol.Repressing her disgust, Mikasa improvised as best as she could. “Mr. Dok,” she said, infusing her voice with a lilting accent to disguise it. “I—I never meant to intrude.”Nile took a few steps towards her, his eyes roving over her black-clad figure, his gaze lingering on the places where the satin clung to her curves. “The fact that you’re here, standing in my private study, speaks to the contrary, my dear,” he replied.Mikasa swallowed and offered him a coquettish smile. “I confess that you’ve caught me being somewhat naughty,” she said, intentionally darkening her voice on the final word. As much as it gutted her, rousing Nile’s lust would yield a far better outcome than rousing his anger. “You see,” she continued, “One of the other ladies I met tonight made a bet that no one could sneak into your private chambers, and I…well, I aimed to prove her wrong.”Nile scoffed. “And how exactly were you going to prove that you’d succeeded?”Mikasa moved away from the safe and trailed a finger lightly on the corner of his desk before tapping it. “I was going to steal a piece of stationery or some other small bauble...nothing that a man as important as you would miss.”“Hmm,” Nile said, moving towards her. “Pity that I caught you, then. And that I keep everything in this room under lock and key.” He stopped directly in front of her, and Mikasa instinctively tried to move away, but Nile caged her, trapping her between his body and the desk. His eyes glittered as he sneered again. “The question now is: what should I do to punish you?”Mikasa’s lips trembled. “Punish me?” She repeated faintly.Nile must have mistaken her fear and disgust for desire, because he chuckled lightly and stepped in close—close enough that Mikasa could feel the growing bulk of him against her thigh. She could also smell the musky cologne he was wearing—the same scent she'd smelled countless times before when he would collapse on top of her after he was done fucking her. The same smell that had lingered on the pillow poor Lydia now slept on.“Oh yes,” Nile all but groaned, bringing his hands up to her rib cage. “I think I need to teach you a lesson.” He reached up and squeezed one of her breasts, mauling it roughly.Mikasa’s eyes pricked beneath her mask and she hissed in pain.“Louder,” Nile cooed, and then he ripped at her dress, yanking it down and revealing her bra. “Pretty,” he said. “Very pretty.”Mikasa’s skin was crawling and she wanted to break Nile’s hands one finger at a time, but she resisted, forcing herself to stay in character. “Please…” she breathed, hoping that her breathiness would egg him on. She already knew - via past experience - that pleading was a turn on for him.Nile leaned in and ran his tongue up her neck before biting it harshly. “I said louder,” he growled, and then he shoved her hard against the desk and tweaked one of her nipples through her bra, drawing a gasp of real pain from Mikasa.“Better,” he said. He leaned back slightly, his eyes blazing with lust as they moved from her heaving chest to her parted lips. “Let’s see what’s behind this lovely mask, shall we?” He said.Fighting her every instinct, Mikasa reached down and teasingly gripped him through his pants. “Or,” she whispered seductively, “We could do this.”And she closed the distance between them and kissed him full on the mouth.Nile responded immediately, his hands groping as he all but thrust his tongue down her throat, and Mikasa went with it, moaning into his mouth and rolling her hips against his even as her hand moved back on the desk, searching.“Fuck,” Nile said when he drew back to take a breath. “You remind me of…”He never had a chance to finish his sentence. In one swift motion, Mikasa hit him squarely in the head with the paperweight she’d finally managed to palm, and Nile collapsed against her like a sack of potatoes.With a brusque shove, she pushed him away from her and he fell to the floor, and then she placed the bloody paperweight back down on his desk and stood there, shaking.“Mikasa?”It took her a moment to register the sound of her name, and when she did, she picked up the paperweight again, ready to attack.Levi held up his hands. “Mikasa, it’s me,” he said as he stepped fully into her line of vision.Mikasa dropped the paperweight and turned away from the Zackly driver, mortification burning through her as she hastily pulled up her dress and quickly brushed away the tears that had slipped below her mask. Then she swallowed and took a breath, forcing her emotions down. You are Agent Ackerman now. Not Mina. Not Mikasa. She turned back to Levi. “Help me pick him up,” she said quietly.“Is he…?”“No. He’s alive.” Not that he deserves to be. “Now help me move him over to the safe.”Levi didn’t ask her anything else, and together, they managed to pick Nile Dok up off of the floor and drag him over to the safe. Once there, Mikasa shifted Nile until she was able to get his thumb on top of the small fingerprint scanner.“I thought you said it was a combination lock,” Levi muttered, his teeth gritted against the strain of holding up the larger man.“It was,” Mikasa said, and she pressed Nile’s thumb down. A second later, a blue light flickered and the safe’s locking mechanism audibly disengaged.Mikasa dropped Nile’s hand without ceremony and opened the safe. Thankfully, while he’d changed the safe’s access, its contents were still the same.Reaching once more beneath her dress, Mikasa fished out the phone she’d clipped to a holster on her other garter belt, and then she walked over to Nile’s desk and opened the thick file.It was sorted alphabetically, and Fenton was the only F name so it didn’t take long to find what she was looking for. Page by page, Mikasa scanned the incriminating document onto her phone, and then, just for security purposes, she uploaded everything to the cloud. When the green check mark appeared on her screen with the word SAVED next to it, she let out a breath of relief.It was only then that she realized Levi was still standing awkwardly by the safe with Nile’s bulk half sprawled on top of him.Mikasa gathered the pages of the file back together and stuck them back in the safe before closing the small door. As soon as she heard the click of the lock reengaging, she turned to Levi. “Here,” she said, once more helping to support his weight. “Let’s put him in his desk chair.”Again, Levi didn’t question her; he just did as she asked without comment or complaint.Once they’d managed to get him seated, Mikasa folded the unconscious man’s arms on his desk, wiped the spot of blood from his hair, and laid his head down on his hands. Then she wiped his blood off of the paperweight. “There,” she said, stepping back. “Hopefully, everyone will think he just got drunk and passed out.”Still, Levi didn’t say anything. He was regarding her closely, his expression a mixture of concern and something else…something that looked a lot like mistrust.Mikasa swallowed, choosing to ignore it for the moment. “Ready to go?” She asked, trying to keep her voice even despite the way she was still inwardly shaking from the ordeal of the past few minutes.Levi nodded, but as soon as Mikasa started for the door, he placed a hand on her arm.Mikasa flinched, drawing in a sharp breath, and Levi let her go, his brows drawing together as his concern deepened. “I know you don’t want me to ask you this, but are you okay?”Of course I’m not okay! She wanted to scream. I abandoned Lydia—I abandoned all of them. I let Nile…I let him…Mikasa pressed her lips together. “Not here,” she said, knowing that if she said anymore, her resilience would shatter. “Let’s just go. Please.” Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and she knew Levi had heard it, but she didn’t care. She felt like she was suffocating, like she was drowning and trying to swim to the surface but couldn’t break through, felt like coldness and darkness were pressing in on her.Levi must have sensed her turmoil, because after a moment of silence, he held out his hand. “Come on, then,” he urged, firmly but gently. “Let’s get out of here.”Mikasa put her hand in his, gripping it like a lifeline, and, without another word, she let him lead her out of the room and back through the winding halls of the Dok mansion until they made it out the front door and into the cold night air.And even then, Mikasa held on to his hand, not letting go until they reached their car and the sounds of the party had faded behind them. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Mikasa was quiet all the way back to the apartment, and even when Levi turned into the small driveway and turned off the ignition, she opened her door and stepped out of the car without saying a word.Puzzled, Levi watched as she began to head for the front steps without so much as a backward glance in his direction.“Oi,” he called after her as he got out of the car.She turned, and Levi detached his apartment key from the ring affixed to his car keys and tossed it to her. She caught it deftly, which Levi took as an encouraging sign. Whatever had happened to her in the Dok house had obviously not affected her ability to function. Her reflexes seemed as reliable as ever. Her mental state, however…“I have to go back for Vincent,” he said by way of explanation when Mikasa still didn’t say anything. “I’ll be back soon.” He surveyed the rumpled state of her evening gown and the irritated skin of her neck. “Do you…want me to get anything for you?” He asked, in part because he was legitimately concerned and in part because he just wanted her to break her damn silence.Infuriatingly, Mikasa just shook her head in response. But then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “Thank you, though.”Levi pressed his lips together. “Yeah,” he muttered, and then he got back in the car and started up the engine, although he waited until Mikasa disappeared into his apartment before he backed out of the driveway and headed back to the Dok mansion.He was distracted about her for the duration of the drive, and even when he rejoined the party and went in search of Vincent Zackly, he couldn’t shake his concern over the Doks' ex-whore.Once he finally managed to locate the young heir, Levi indulged him for an hour or so, but three drinks later, when Vincent could barely stand without stumbling into a guest, Levi steered him downstairs and towards the front door. The heir, as usual, resisted, complaining that Levi always cut his fun short and threatening to have him fired, but Levi was deaf to the Zackly’s complaints and threats. He’d babysat the kid enough to recognize a tantrum when he saw it.Besides, Vincent didn’t have the authority to fire him.It was nearly three a.m. when Levi finally dropped Vincent off at home and got him into bed, and it was edging close to four when he made it back to his own apartment. Completely wiped, Levi took off his suit jacket and tie and laid them over the back of a kitchen chair, and then he unbuttoned his starched white shirt and headed for the stairs.When he reached the second floor, he was greeted by the steady drone of the shower.Surprised, Levi walked over and paused just outside of the bathroom, and then he reached up and rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles. When he didn’t receive a response, he knocked again, this time more loudly.Nothing.Frowning, Levi gave up on manners and pushed the door open.And froze.Mikasa was huddled on the floor of the shower with her head down and her arms wrapped around her knees. She’d taken her shoes and mask off and left them discarded by the toilet but her gown was still on, the rich fabric soaked through by the water pelting down from above.Levi stood there for a moment, riveted, and then, his heart in his throat for a reason he couldn’t quite guess at, he slowly walked forward. He unlaced his dress shoes and took them off, folding his socks inside of them, and then he removed his button-up shirt and draped it on the sink. He left his undershirt and his pants on, and then he padded over and opened the shower door. The water was lukewarm at best, and Levi wondered briefly if she'd intentionally set it that way or if she'd been sitting there long enough for the hot water to run out. Pushing the disconcerting thought away, he knelt down awkwardly in front of her on the cramped shower floor and placed his hand lightly on her arm.Mikasa started at his touch and raised her head, her eyes going wide as she realized he was in the shower with her. The water had made her mascara run, and the two black tracks looked like tears where they marred her cheeks. Levi tried to brush one of the tracks away but it smudged, leaving a bruise-like mark on her pale skin.His stomach twisted, and suddenly he knew what he needed to do. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmured against the drone of the water. He stood up, gently pulling her up with him, and then he turned her around and undid the zipper of her sodden gown. Weighted down by the water that had soaked into the fabric, it slid fairly easily off her body as Levi tugged it down.Mikasa didn’t resist, and she even put her hands on his shoulders for balance when the dress pooled around her ankles so that she could step out of it without losing her balance. When it was all the way off, she just stood there, silent and still, as Levi tossed it out onto the bathroom floor. The soaked garment released a torrent of water all across the tiles when he did, but Levi didn’t care; cleaning the bathroom could wait.He turned back to Mikasa, hoping for…something, some kind of sign that she was still there, still with him, but her eyes were downcast and her shoulders were slumped forward, so Levi just decided fuck it, and went with his instincts.His shampoo was masculine but subtle, and he poured out a generous amount of the stuff before he began working it into Mikasa’s dark hair. She still didn’t say anything, but Levi felt slightly encouraged when she tilted her head into his touch ever so slightly and closed her eyes. Carefully and methodically, he rinsed her hair and then followed up with a conditioner, combing through the knots and tangles until the wet strands flowed like silk through his fingers, and then he rinsed her hair once again. Next, he took the washcloth she’d been using off of the small rack in the shower and soaped it up, and then he gently started to run the soapy cloth over her body.He’d left her bra and panties on, but Mikasa wordlessly reached up and undid the clasp of her bra, letting the skimpy piece of lace fall to the shower floor, and then she slid her underwear down her legs and kicked it off, baring herself to him.Levi was surprised by that, but he didn’t let it show. He just continued to clean her skin with the washcloth, mindful not to stare at her while he did so. She was beautiful, and it would have been easy to get distracted by the curves and wonders of her body, but he kept his eyes averted and his mind fixed on the task at hand. He washed her from head to toe, even bending down to pick up her feet and clean her heels and soles. Lastly, he wiped the make-up from her face, using just enough pressure to strip away the heavy black lines. She looked more like herself when he was done, but she also looked vulnerable, naked in a way that was more than skin deep. And the look in her dark eyes as she met his gaze…Levi swallowed. “Come on,” he said as he reached over and turned off the faucet. “Let’s dry you off and get you to bed.”Once again, Mikasa said nothing, though she let herself be moved and led with Levi’s gentle coaxing. He helped her into an oversized sleep shirt once she was dry and then walked her to her room. He waited patiently until she'd climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin when she made no move to do it herself, effectively tucking her in—something he'd never done for anyone before but strangely found he didn't mind. On his way out, he glanced briefly at the bedside table, where Mikasa had placed her recovered journal and the phone she’d used to upload the file on Fenton Zackly, but he didn’t move either item or ask about them.They could worry about that – and plan their next steps – in the morning.He was at the door when Mikasa spoke.“Levi,” she said quietly. It wasn’t really a question or a statement, just his name.He turned, waiting.Mikasa was watching him from beneath the covers, her face just visible above the top of the duvet. “Thank you,” she murmured, the two simple words brimming with emotion.It was Levi’s turn for silence. He stood there, heart drumming in his chest for a moment, and then he nodded and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.It was nearly five in the morning, but after he’d changed into dry clothes and tidied up the bathroom, Levi headed back downstairs and poured himself a drink anyway, tossing the whiskey back and pouring a second helping before he collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. Thank you. She’s said it so tenderly, so genuinely—and she’d said it to him, a man neck deep in the shitty world she’d just barely managed to escape from. And she’d said it after the ordeal of the Dok party, which made it all the more incredulous.Nile Dok had abused her before, Levi knew, and the pig had touched her again tonight at the party. Levi had known the second he’d stepped into the study that something had happened, but to his surprise, Mikasa had kept her composure and finished the job as if nothing had happened. She’d receded behind stoicism afterwards, of course, but even then, she hadn’t broken down. Like always, the girl seemed to be unshakeable.It was only later, when Levi had found her curled into a ball in his shower, that Mikasa had given him a true glimpse at the pain she was carrying within her.And still, for some baffling reason, she’d let him – the Zackly’s fucking lapdog – care for her. She’d trusted him enough to be completely vulnerable, and she’d thanked him for it, like he fucking deserved her gratitude or some shit. It was mind-boggling.Over the years, he’d become so wrapped up in his role, in his job, that all the decent parts of him had faded away, and yet somehow, his strange house guest seemed to be reviving tiny shreds of his humanity. What are you doing to me, Mikasa? The answer eluded him.Feeling lost and incredibly tired, Levi finished his drink and then slowly pushed back from the table, cleared his glass, and made his way up the stairs and into bed. The sun woke Mikasa up, streaming in through the window in painful brightness. Still groggy, she blinked her eyes open, wincing as her eyes began to adjust to the light. Once they did, she sat up and leaned back against the headboard, thinking back to the previous night.The events unfolded slowly, like a movie in slow motion, starting with the party and her encounter with Nile before moving to everything that had transpired once she and Levi had left the Dok mansion. Levi… She’d been so lost, so defeated, when he’d found her in the shower. Even the memory of it made her frown. She didn’t know why she’d let him treat her like a child—washing her and dressing her and putting her to bed, but she was devoid of the shame and embarrassment she expected to feel.What she felt instead was a strange warmth towards the caustic man, along with surprise that she had let him see her in such a fragile state. Usually, she kept her walls up, stayed in character, and above all, kept her distance from anyone that had the potential to be an enemy—potential that the Zackly driver had in spades. Had she been so desperate for catharsis and comfort that she’d forgotten that? Or was it something else that had spurred her to rely on him the previous night, something triggered more by Levi himself than anything else?The thought was an unsettling one.It would be much easier to deal with the mission than to confront whatever latent feelings were pushing their way to the surface.Mikasa took a breath and refocused herself on the task at hand.She went into the bathroom (which Levi had apparently cleaned meticulously between when she’d passed out and whenever now was) and took her time getting herself together. When she emerged, she felt like a new person—or at least a person ready to tackle the day ahead.When she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later with the journal and phone in hand, Levi was already there, cooking.He looked up as she entered. “Morning,” he said, and then turned his attention back to the eggs. He said nothing of what had happened the previous night, although he did seem to be assessing her from the corner of his eye.“Morning,” Mikasa responded. It was on the tip of her tongue to say something about what had happened hours earlier, but she fought the urge and instead set her journal and phone down and went about brewing a pot of coffee.Of course, the only reason she was able to do that was because Levi had gotten her a bag of dark roast from the corner store after she’d offhandedly mentioned that she preferred coffee to tea one morning.The thought clung to her, even when she was seated at the kitchen table, coffee in hand, and Levi had taken the seat across from her.She picked at the plate of scrambled eggs Levi had set in front of her. “Levi, about...about last night…”“We don’t need to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” he interjected quickly, sensing her indecision.“Okay.” Mikasa took a bite of her breakfast, chewing slowly. The eggs were creamy and flavorful, spiced with just enough peppers to add a touch of heat when she swallowed. “Let’s talk about this, then,” she said, sliding the journal and phone forward.Levi put his fork aside and picked up the journal. He opened it gingerly, as if he were afraid the pages would fall out, and then he drew in a small breath and paused, his eyes lingering on the first page.Mikasa sensed an indefinable shift in the atmosphere. “Is something wrong?” She asked. The same look of mild distrust she’d seen in Nile’s study was once more flickering in his eyes.Levi’s expression cleared at her question (almost too quickly, Mikasa thought), and then he turned the page. “No,” he said, but he didn’t offer anything further. He studied the pages carefully, though, taking so much time that Mikasa was sure he was about to tell her that the information she’d gathered wouldn’t be useful.When he reached her final entry, however, he closed the journal and set it down. “You’ve amassed quite a bit of incriminating information in this little book,” he said. He picked up the phone and once more fell silent as he pulled up the copied file of Fenton Zackly. After a minute, he whistled softly. “Shit,” he said. He looked up at her. “This is definitely enough to start a war between the families.”A smug sense of satisfaction soaked into Mikasa’s bones. “Good.” It was appeasing to know that the torture of being in Nile Dok’s presence again had paid off.Levi eyed her in a speculative way, his hooded eyes watching her closely. “So you want to move forward with this.”“Of course.”Levi nodded. “All right,” he said. “Then we will. But you should realize that things could get messy. Darius will choose to act on this, I’m sure, but he will also want to know how I acquired this information.”Mikasa pursed her lips, thinking. “You could tell him the truth,” she suggested. Granted, it would be the truth as Levi knew it and not the actual truth, but her alias’s story was believable enough in its own right. “Withhold my name, but tell him that a former Dok whore is interested in blackmailing the family that abused her.”A certain amount of wariness crept into Levi’s voice. “I could,” he agreed, “but most girls in your position don’t have the wherewithal to discover accounting discrepancies, let alone keep a detailed paper trail of long term embezzlement. I know Darius. It’s likely that your identity will rouse his suspicion.”“Don’t tell him I’m a whore, then,” Mikasa amended. “Just tell him that a…disgruntled former Dok accountant is looking to get even with the family that wrongfully terminated him.”Levi scoffed lightly. “Well, it’s certainly more believable that an accountant would have access to this kind of information, I’ll give you that,” he said. He sighed. “All right. I’m supposed to drive Darius to meet one of his business acquaintances tomorrow night. I’ll hand over everything to him then, and we’ll go with the accountant story. Hopefully he’ll be distracted enough by the content not to give a shit where it came from.”“Hopefully,” Mikasa agreed. The idea of rousing the suspicion of the single most powerful man in the Sina mafia was unsettling.They finished their breakfast in silence and then washed their dishes, working in quiet tandem with each other. Levi excused himself afterwards and headed upstairs, taking the journal and phone with him.Mikasa stayed downstairs for a while, doing small chores and keeping her hands busy to distract herself from thinking. There wasn’t much to do, unfortunately, because Levi was meticulous about his cleanliness and the apartment was more or less spotless, so eventually, she gave up and decided to go see if Levi needed help with anything.He was sitting on his bed when she knocked on his open door, her journal in his hands. He turned as she entered, putting the small logbook on his bedside table. He looked tired, the circles dark and deep under his eyes, and Mikasa knew she was at fault. After all, he’d stayed up nearly all night to care for her.“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said. She was about to ask if he needed anything, but the words stuck in her throat, and she knew why; the question would have been a flimsy excuse to cover the real reason she wanted to talk to him, and she was tired of lying, tired of playing games and skirting around the point.She straightened up. “What you did for me last night…when you got home…” She swallowed. “Thank you.” Part of her knew she should stop there, but a bigger part of her wanted, needed answers. Levi worked for the Zacklys, and despite what he said, Mikasa knew he wasn’t just a driver. She needed to know why someone with the loyalties he had would do something so kind. She met his eyes. “Why did you take care of me like that?” She asked bluntly. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she needed to understand. She’d lived with men like him for months and never – not even once – had any of them shown her an ounce of the compassion that Levi had.The driver’s hooded eyes were hard to read. “You were in pain,” he said eventually. He seemed to be about to say something else but he stopped himself, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “You were in pain,” he repeated. “It hurt to see you like that.”Mikasa felt something flutter in her chest. She took a step into the room. “Why would it hurt you to see my pain?” She pressed.His eyes weren’t hard to read this time. Levi’s entire expression crumpled, and Mikasa could tell she’d wounded him deeply with her question. He looked away from her, down at his hands. “Despite what I am,” he said softly, “I do still have the capacity to care about people, Mikasa.” I care about you. He hadn’t said it, but he didn’t need to. It was there, between his spoken words, present in every glance and action.Tears pricked her eyes. I care about you too, Levi, she thought as she blinked to keep the tears at bay and walked over to him. She knew what Erwin would say, knew what Eren would have thought, but she didn’t care. The simple truth was that she wasn’t Mina around Levi—she was herself, and she – Mikasa – had feelings for him. It was wrong and it was doomed and it was going to break her heart, but in that moment, Mikasa couldn’t bring herself to care.She stopped directly in front of him and then she reached out and brushed his face with her fingertips. Levi looked up at her, surprised, but he didn’t say anything, and Mikasa bent down and kissed him, and then she gently pushed him back on the bed.Levi’s eyes didn’t leave hers as she crawled atop him, but she did see them close when she leaned in to kiss him again, this time with more urgency. “You’re not a monster, Levi,” she whispered when she pulled back, speaking the words fervently because she knew, instinctively, that he needed to hear them. “You’re human just like me,” she added, and then she was kissing him again, first on the lips and then down his jaw and throat, her hands following after.It wasn’t like the other times; where she’d sought violence and anger before, she was now slow and tender. She undressed him and removed her own clothes with unhurried leisure, and even when they were pressed skin to skin, she took her time, using soft touches and teasing caresses to build his desire until his steel eyes were dark with need and she could feel her own dampness dripping onto her legs.When she finally sank down on him, she rode him slowly, deeply, and when Levi reached up and uncertainly placed his hands on her hips, she didn’t push them away. Instead, she laid her own hands over top of his and dug her fingers into his skin, encouraging him to do the same to her. When his tentative grip tightened, she moaned appreciatively and leaned her head back, giving in to the sensations as she started to work herself faster on his cock. Wanting Levi to enjoy it too, so she started squeezing her inner walls around him, bearing down just a little more with every stroke.Levi groaned when she did, and then he was sitting up, his mouth latching on to the hollow space between her collarbone and neck as his hands moved to her ass. He spread her cheeks apart, his fingers digging into her flesh as he began taking initiative and thrusting up into her a little deeper, although he slowed the pace back down to a slow drag—slow enough that Mikasa could feel every inch of him where he was moving inside of her.The new angle tore ragged gasps from Mikasa’s throat, and she clutched at him, mouthing at his ear and jaw as her hands gripped his back.When she began to tremble, Levi caught her mouth with his, and when she came apart on top of him, he deepened the kiss, devouring her soft cries. He came a few heartbeats later, still moving deep and slow inside of her, and Mikasa tangled her fingers in his hair as he shuddered through his release, holding him close.Afterwards, they lay in a tangle of limbs on his bed, sweaty and satisfied but both too tired to rouse themselves. Levi was sprawled on his back, and Mikasa placed her head against his shoulder, turning her face just enough so that she could study his many tattoos. She began to trace the black designs with her fingers, though she paused her idle ministrations when she reached the words inked above his heart. She’d noticed the tattoo the first time she’d seen him shirtless in the kitchen, but the words were written in a language she didn’t recognize.She tapped it lightly. “What does this mean?” She asked in a sleepy voice, tipping her chin up a few inches so she could look at him.Levi glanced down at where her fingers were resting against the words, his mouth twisting slightly. “It’s in my mother’s language,” he revealed softly, and Mikasa saw the way his gaze grew distant, as if he were slipping into a remembered moment at the fringes of his memory. “I got it done years ago, before most of the others.” He paused, his voice getting even softer. “It means ‘one day, I’ll be free’.”Mikasa looked once more at the black words etched above Levi’s heart, her own aching at the poignancy of their translation. They were full of sentiment and suffering—not at all the standard type of tattoo found on most members of the Mafia. How did you end up here, Levi? And why? Why? The questions were still swirling around in her mind as she drifted off to sleep. Levi watched Mikasa’s chest rise and fall in slumber, one of his hands idly brushing through her hair as he pondered the truth of who she was.He’d had his suspicions for days, but it was the journal that had given her away in the end. All SC agents – stupidly, in Levi’s opinion – were trained using the same bullshit cookie cutter methods, and Levi had recognized the trademark shorthand immediately. After all, Mikasa wasn’t the first agent to try and pull one over on the infamous Sina families. Levi shuddered as he remembered the last one, a man named Francis who had gone undercover as head chef in the Zackly household.Darius had fed the man to his pet lion when he’d learned his real identity.It was no less than what Nile would do if he got his hands on Mikasa. An escaped brothel girl was a mild irritation; an escaped agent with valuable, damning information was a budding catastrophe. If Mikasa had any sense, she would have fled Sina the moment her leg healed up.But instead she was here, with him, planning to take down the family she’d no doubt been assigned to topple.Levi knew the game, and he knew it well enough to realize that Mikasa was in over her head. If she were discovered a second time, luck would not be on her side. She would die for an unfulfilled cause, just like Francis, just like countless others before him.Mikasa shifted in her sleep, nuzzling a bit closer to him, and Levi reflexively wrapped his arm around her. He wanted to protect her and, as pathetic as it was, he wanted her to stay, but those two things were incompatible. As much as he might have wished it otherwise, Mikasa needed to leave Sina – and him – far behind her. He might never be free, but she still had a chance to be, and she needed to take it, his feelings be damned.With a troubled sigh, Levi closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Mikasa tapped her fingers against the counter in idle rhythms as she waited for her coffee to brew, her mind on Levi.He’d left earlier that morning, off to do whatever Darius Zackly had requested of him for the day, and he’d taken her journal with him. I’ll show it to him, the driver had promised. We’ll set this thing in motion. Trust me. Darius won’t let this stand. Mikasa believed him. She wasn’t sure why, truth be told. All her instincts as an agent were screaming at her for entrusting the crux of her mission to a man who worked for the Zacklays—a worse family by far than the Doks.And yet Levi was somewhat of an enigma. He had been kind when she’d expected brutality, understanding when she’d expected apathy. He didn’t fit the mold she’d seen time and again of men in positions similar to his. He was...different.Either that, or he was the world's best actor and she was the world's greatest fool. Something told her that that wasn't the case, though.When the coffee was finished percolating, Mikasa removed the pot and poured herself a cup, breathing in the rich, fragrant scent. It was light roast—her favorite. Levi had bought her a bag a few days ago, though he’d shrugged off her thanks with a ‘I was at the market anyway. It’s not like I went out of my way.’ Regardless, it was another small act of unsolicited kindness.Still musing, Mikasa took another inhale of blissful coffee flavor, blew gently into the steaming mug, and took a sip. Someday, I’ll be free. Mikasa could empathize with the sentiment of Levi’s tattoo, although she wondered – not for the first time since he’d revealed the meaning of the foreign, inked words – what it meant to him. What do you want to be free from, Levi? She’d almost asked him, but she’d stopped herself. She was much too invested in him as it was. No reason to dig herself deeper into the mess.What she should do, after she made certain that Levi had done as he’d promised and shown her journal and the phone to Darius Zackly, was contact Erwin and get the hell out. Staying would be a mistake.Still, the thought of leaving and not seeing Levi everyday made her indescribably depressed. She’d grown used to his company—and not just because the sex was good (though that didn’t hurt). It was the little things, really. The simple chores they’d started to do together. Cooking. Sitting out in his sorry excuse for a backyard and sharing Titan Reds. Waking up before him in the morning and seeing how peaceful he looked when he was asleep.Somehow, those stupid little things, those things that didn’t really matter, had become the cornerstone of her days, the foundations for rebuilding and healing her fractured mental state.Mikasa finished the rest of her coffee in a heavy silence, knowing that the countdown to when this would all be over had already begun. Her time with Levi was coming to an end.It doesn’t matter, she told herself as she turned on the kitchen sink and scrubbed out her coffee mug. This was always about the mission, about avenging Eren and completing what the two of us started. Ending this will be a victory, not a loss. And yet the sentiment of that truth left her feeling empty.Still brooding, she turned off the water and placed the mug in the drying rack, then headed upstairs, hoping a shower would revitalize her and improve her mood.There were two fresh stacks of towels on the bathroom sink with little handwritten notes on top of each of them. The first read: yours. The second read: mine—stop using both sets. I don’t have an endless supply of these things. Mikasa sighed and picked up the towels Levi had left her, resisting the urge to both roll her eyes and laugh at the ridiculousness of his OCD.And then, a smirk on her face, she deliberately picked up the towels from Levi's stack and proceeded to use both. Nile Dok was livid. Petros was sure of that.His boss’s face was slowly turning the color of a ripe tomato, and there was an unnaturally large vein bulging above his left eye. And if that wasn’t a clear enough sign that the head of the Dok family was irate, the next words out of his mouth certainly were.“That fucking whore,” he spat. He pounded his fist on the surface of his desk with such force that Petros had to resist the urge to wince. “The nerve of her…coming back here…pretending to be some rich slut…and stealing the contents of that file…” Nile ran a hand through his thinning hair and then fixed his harsh gaze on Petros. “Take three of our best men and track her down, do you hear me?”Petros nodded in silent subservience and then held his breath as Nile marched around the side of his desk and came to stand directly in front of him. “You saw the footage, correct?”“Yes, boss,” Petros replied. “I saw it.”Nile sneered, but there was no humor in the gesture, only malice. “Yeah. Little cunt didn’t realize I had cameras installed in here. Well, she’ll live to regret it.” Once more he focused in on Petros. “You saw the footage, so you know what information she took. And you know what will happen if she hands it over to the Zacklays.”Petros swallowed. “Yes, boss.”Nile’s eyes were like shards of ice. “So when I tell you—“ he punctuated the word by jabbing his finger into Petros’s chest— “that you will be successful in bringing that two-bit fucktoy back here, alive, along with the phone she scanned my documents to, you understand the gravity of that, correct?”“I do, boss. Yes.”Nile stepped back. “Good. Get to it.”“Boss—?”Nile raised an eyebrow, but it was anything but a patient gesture. “What?”“Where would you like us to look for her, sir? She could have gone anywhere.”At this, Nile Dok did smile, and it was unsettling. He reached back to his desk and spun his laptop around. “See him?” He asked, gesturing to a freeze frame of a short, dark-haired man conversing with the girl Nile had called a great many names over the past few minutes. “He works for Darius, and I happen to have his address.” Nile wrote it down on a slip of paper and handed it to Petros. “If he is there when you go for the girl, kill him. He knows too much and his loyalty lies with Darius. Understood?”“Yes, boss.”“Good. Now get out.”Petros moved with surprising speed for a man of his size and strode out of the boss’s office, already calculating who would be best for a mission like this.By the time he’d made it to the main wing of the house, he had a team in mind. They were the best and the cruelest, and they would not fail. Darius Zackly closed the journal, placed the phone on top of it, and pushed his chair back from his desk. With slow steps, he walked over to the side table, prepared a glass with two ice cubes, and selected a scotch from his collection. He poured his drink in silence and swished it around, watching the ice cubes bob in the amber liquid. Then he took a long, lingering sip and turned to face his driver.“You were right to bring this to me,” he said. His voice was even and controlled and did not project the rage he was feeling.The short man nodded. “I owed it to you and the Zackly family. What the Doks have done is unpardonable.”Darius took another drink. “Indeed,” he said, appraising Levi as he swallowed. The man was a loyal driver and a useful bruiser, but Darius could smell a lie in his story. “I want to meet this accountant,” he said. “To thank them for their service to my family.”Levi didn’t so much as blink. “Of course. I will arrange it as soon as I can.”Darius looked at the driver for another moment, finished his drink, and then set the empty glass down on the table. “That can wait until after, though,” he added.“After, sir?”“The Doks must pay. They murdered my son and heir, and now I will have theirs.”Darius sat down heavily in his desk chair, leaning back into the leather and steepling his fingers together, feeling his calm façade beginning to fade. He pressed the pads of his fingers together until the nails turned white with strain. “We will hit them swiftly and with our full force,” he decreed, his chest swelling with the relish of impending war. “It will be a massacre, merciless and bloody. I want everyone with the surname Dok dead by the end of it. With one exception: I want Nile for myself—father to father.”“Understood, sir.”“We cannot wait on this, either, Levi. It will not take Nile long to realize that information this sensitive and damning has been compromised. We must retaliate before he has time to prepare a defense. You and Gavin will be in charge, and the attack will take place at dawn the morning after next, before the city wakes up. You will take all of our men except my personal retinue of guards.”Finally, Levi’s deliberately neutral expression cracked slightly. “All, sir?”“Everyone,” Darius said heavily. “I told you, Levi, this will be a massacre. They killed the son I loved. I will not sleep easily again until I have avenged him and the streets are covered in Dok blood. You will take the full power of the Zackly force and slaughter every man, woman, and child in the Dok house except for Nile himself. Is that clear?”“Sir, the women and children—”Darius shut him down. “All, Levi. Betrayal of this nature reaps an equally brutal response. Do not presume to question me.”“Yes, sir. It will be done.”“Good. And Levi, you have done well. I will not forget that, when this is done.”Levi inclined his head. “Thank you, sir.”“Go.”The driver went, and Darius ordered one of his guards to bring him a girl. The whore was young—blonde and pretty with a smile that radiated sweetness and innocence and softness.For two hours, Darius unleashed his grief and rage on her until she was none of those things any longer, and then he ordered his men to clean up the mess. Levi was late, so Mikasa poured herself another glass of wine and put the sauce on medium heat to warm it back up. It had been an easy day, and would have been a restful one if it hadn’t been for the waiting. Questions plagued her every minute: had Levi given Darius Zackly her journal and the file? Had Zackly believed him? How would he respond? And when?The turmoil of not knowing the answers had been building in her all day—hence the wine.Which was why, three glasses in, it took Mikasa a moment to register the sound of footsteps on the front steps of the apartment.Her reflexes kicked in despite the dulling effects of the wine, and she was on her feet with two kitchen knives in hand when the first of the men knocked the front door in and barged into the kitchen.“She’s ar—!” The one in front started to say, but Mikasa silenced him with two expert thrusts of the knives. The next man was on her before she had time to prepare, and he brought her down to the floor beneath his bulk, but Mikasa kept her cool, gritted her teeth, and worked her right arm free.Bending her right arm awkwardly and twisted her body just enough, she managed to bring the one knife she’d kept a hold of straight down into back of the large man's neck. A moment later, he went limp and Mikasa rolled out from under him.She regained her feet and backed towards the stove, counting the men now flooding into the room.Too many, she realized with cold clarity. There are too many of them.And worse yet, she recognized some of them. Dok men! Panic threatened to consume her, but by sheer force of will she managed to retain her composure.She needed to create an escape route for herself, but both viable exits were blocked by men, and all of the big brutes were closing in on her. She had seconds at best. Think, think, think. A crazy idea came to her. Mikasa wheeled around and grabbed the large pot of sauce from the stove top and, in one quick motion, flung the pot's contents at the man closest to the back door.The hot liquid splashed all over his face and chest and he screamed, stumbling back into the wall as he desperately wiped at his exposed skin.Which was when Mikasa dropped the pot, lunged for the door, and managed to scramble outside.She had made it all the way to the fence when the bullet caught her in the leg. She cried out and pitched forward, and then there was a boot on her back.“Don’t move, or the next bullet will go in your skull.”There were others out in the yard now, surrounding her, and Mikasa knew it was over. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears and hear the muted cries of the man inside the apartment, and there were spots dancing in front of her eyes. Her leg was throbbing and she could feel blood running warm and sticky down the back of her calf.She didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that she could not go back to the Doks. She wouldn't. Death was favorable by far compared to being placed back under the control of Nile Dok.She breathed in the dirt and grass beneath her and closed her eyes. “Do it,” she said to the man standing above her. “Kill me.”A chuckle came as her response. “Sorry, sweetheart. You’re coming in alive. Boss’s orders.”And then Mikasa felt a sharp blow to the back of her head and her freedom and consciousness were both snuffed out. Levi knew the worst had happened before he even turned into his driveway.There was a crowd of people out front, pointing and gasping.Levi pulled up and blared his horn, making them jump. They dispersed, but only enough to let him squeeze through.Heart sinking, Levi walked into the tornado zone that was his apartment. The place had been completely ransacked. Everything was ruined.And he knew why. Clearly, the Doks had put two and two together and figured out that he and Mikasa were the ones who had stolen the damning evidence. They'd probably come as much to retrieve the phone as to kill him.But Levi found he didn’t give a shit about that. There was only one thing he cared about in that moment.There was no point in calling for her because he knew – he knew – she was gone.Still, he did. “Mikasa?”There was, of course, no answer. He found the bodies in the kitchen, and, strangely, what looked like tomato sauce splashed across the floor and far wall, along with the shredded, confetti remains of all the papers and bills he'd had on his desk in the corner. Leaving the mess, he ran upstairs, taking the steps three at a time.Shredded bedding, papers everywhere, weapons gone, no Mikasa.In the distance, Levi heard sirens.Cursing, he zipped back downstairs and sprinted out the front door, barreling into the crowd of gawking onlookers that were in his way.He threw the car in reverse and backed out of the yard just as the police showed up, and then he put the car in gear and burned a patch of rubber in his wake as he floored it, leaving the shouting policemen behind him.He drove until he reached the outskirts of town, and then he pulled into the parking lot of a long-condemned restaurant and turned off the ignition. Mikasa… She was probably dead already.And if she wasn’t, she would be soon. You will slaughter every man, woman, and child in the Dok house. Levi pounded his fists on the steering wheel.Either the Doks would kill her, or the Zacklys would. She was caught in the middle of a fucking deathtrap. This is my fault. My fucking fault. He should have made her leave. He shouldn’t have been so fucking selfish.Levi sat there, hating himself, for a long time, and then he reached into his glove compartment and pulled out his spare cellphone. He plugged the clunky thing's charger into the car's cigarette lighter, waited for the battery light to click on, and then powered the phone up.There was only one saved number on the burner phone, and it was one he hadn’t used in a long time.Knowing he had no other options, Levi dialed it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Mikasa had been through more than her fair share of traumatic life experiences. In fact, she’d endured a lion’s share. She’d lost her parents to violent deaths at a young age, begged on the streets for food and clothes—and sometimes done more than begged when begging wasn't enough. She’d found an adoptive brother and thought for a second that the tide of her life was changing...only to lose him to another bloody end. She’d been raped and abused and treated like the muck people cleaned off of their boots. And somehow, somehow, she’d survived it all, had proven to herself and to the rest of the sick world she lived in that she was a fighter who was made of something stronger than the sum of the horrors that had shaped her life.Until now.As Mikasa gazed up at Nile Dok’s face looming once more above her, she felt something she’d never felt before in her entire life—not even at her weakest, most broken moments.Her resilience deserted her.And the smile – the cracked, leering grin – that widened the maw on Nile’s face proved that he knew it.“What, not so feisty anymore?” He asked as he bent down next to where she currently lay sprawled on the floor. He fisted a hand in her hair and yanked her head up, the motion so violent that Mikasa felt some of her hair tear out at the roots. “What’s the matter, Mina?” He asked once his face was inches from hers. “Don’t like being back in your old clothes and shoes? Don’t like being back under my thumb?” He punctuated the snarled question with a harsh dig of his thumb against her chin, no doubt adding one more bruise to the myriad of black and blue he’d already branded her body with since her return to his estate.Mikasa said nothing. With a huff, Nile released her hair and shoved her back with such a brutal, unexpected kick that Mikasa cracked her head against the ground as she collapsed. She winced involuntarily against the wave of fresh, pulsing pain.Nile only laughed in response and gestured two of his men forward. “Tie her down.”They did, making sure to grope and grab whatever they felt entitled to as they affixed ropes to her hands and feet and secured them to the bolts that had been added to the floor of Nile’s office especially for her.Mikasa did nothing to stop the brutes as they manhandled her, but when she closed her eyes to shut them out she heard Nile bark an order and one of his underlings slapped her across the face.“Boss wants your eyes open, girl.”Enervated completely, Mikasa did as requested, releasing the tears her lashes had held back.“Go get Cletus,” Nile ordered. “It’s time I introduce Mina to a new friend.”The relish in Nile’s voice spurred no reaction from Mikasa. She knew Cletus was going to further hurt and abuse her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She'd already been stripped and beaten, had already had the bullet wound in her leg aggravated with the work of a knife. It was only when one of Nile's men piped up to say she's gonna bleed out if you keep going at this rate that the method of torture had been amended.The knives had been temporarily put away, and Nile Dok had ordered his men to have their fun while he watched. No one had stuck their dick inside of her (Nile had reserved that right for himself somewhere down the line), but the thugs had been surprisingly creative when it came to what else they could accomplish. Even now, hours later, Mikasa was still bleeding between her legs, and the skimpy lingerie that the crime boss had dressed her up in when his right-hand man - by the far the most degraded of the group - was done assaulting her was soiled with blood. You like this, you fucking cunt? My gun sure does. C'mon, coat it with some more girly blood for good luck... She'd been back in Nile's clutches for just over twenty-four hours and she'd already been physically, sexually, and verbally abused so severely that reality itself seemed to be slipping away. Nile had taken everything from her in his attempts to crack her, even the last vestige of her dignity. And now her will was gone as well. Mikasa had nothing left except her silence. The only saving grace she could cling to was that eventually, her body would succumb and she would die and it would be over. There would be no more Nile, no more anything.Death would give her a way out.Strangely, the meaning of the words inked above Levi’s heart came back to her: one day, I’ll be free. Well, now it was her day. Freedom was just a flatline away. “Ah, Cletus. Good.”Mikasa couldn't see the man in question as he entered the room, so she was resigned to watching Nile as he adjusted his leather chair and reclined in it, folding one leg over the other in exaggerated leisure. “This is Mina,” he told the newcomer, gesturing unnecessarily to Mikasa’s inert form. “She stole something from me and caused me a great deal of trouble. And even after my generous hospitality, she’s refused to give me any information. I’d like you to help her change her mind.”It was then that Mikasa got her first glimpse of Cletus as the thug stepped into her line of limited vision.He was not what she would have expected, and that somehow made it worse. He was small and thin, with carefully styled hair and an outfit to match. He looked refined, cultured, professional.Cletus moved until he was standing directly above her head, and then his full lips pulled up in a cold smile—a coldness heightened by the dead look in his dark eyes. “My pleasure,” he said, his voice saccharine in a way that roused a swell of nausea in Mikasa.He knelt down beside her, almost gracefully, and then he leaned in and licked one of the tears off of her face. “Nice to meet you, Mina,” he whispered against her ear. “My, don't you taste nice.”Suddenly, a pair of pliers appeared in his hand. Giving her another cold smile, Cletus slowly dragged the tip of the pliers down her neck and shoulder and then, just as slowly, he trailed them down her left arm until he reached her hand, a chilling mockery of a lover's touch.Mikasa knew with dread certainty what was coming.From his chair, Nile asked the questions he’d asked her before. “Let’s try this again, Mina. Where is the phone? And where is the driver?”Resigned to her fate, Mikasa said nothing.Nile gave a curt nod, and Cletus placed the pliers beneath the edge of her index finger.He smiled. “And this little piggy…”Mikasa screamed when he ripped the fingernail off, her whole body jerking as she reflexively tried to move away from the pain and from Cletus.Both men laughed in the face of her anguish.And then, like a song stuck on repeat, Nile began again. “Okay, let’s try once more. Where is the phone, Mina? Where is the driver?”Trembling, sweat pouring down her bare spine, Mikasa once more held her tongue.Cletus moved on to the next finger. Darius Zackly watched from the balcony on the upper level of his expansive inner courtyard as Levi quietly and efficiently went over the plan of attack with the men below. The driver was standing before the guns-for-hire with his hands clasped behind his back, giving orders with the ease of a practiced commanding officer, and it was easy to see the deference and respect all of the others had for him.The scene made Darius’s frown deepen, and the thought that had been nagging at him earlier was solidifying into a cold certainty.The driver was not who and what he claimed to be.He hadn’t been completely honest and forthright earlier about the phone and how he’d acquired it, Darius was sure of that, and now he’d assumed command like he was donning a suit he’d worn many times before. Additionally, the driver had been an hour late on this most crucial day and, while he'd given the excuse of his apartment being ransacked as the reason, Darius was far from convinced. The man was concealing something and that would not stand.Darius understood men who kept their secrets and men who were reticent to share more than was needed, but he couldn’t abide men like that in his household—no matter how much his disappointment of a son liked them. Something would need to be done about the driver, and soon. And as for Vincent, well, he would just have to cope.“Papa?”Speak of the imbecile. “What do you need, Vincent?” He asked as his remaining son and heir joined him on the balcony. “We are in the middle of preparations here and I do not have the time to deal with your petty affairs at the moment.”Vincent made a face. “My affairs are not petty, Papa,” he whined. “You’d know that if you paid any attention to—”Darius held up a hand. “Vincent.” It was a warning. There wouldn’t be another.Wisely, his son held his tongue.“Now, I’ll ask again: what do you need?”Vincent took a breath. “I would like to go with you and the others to the Dok estate. I’m asking your permission to act as your right hand and be there when you crush them.”Darius felt a stir of something akin to pride at his son’s show of bravado and loyalty, but he tamped it down. “No,” he said simply. “You will stay here.”“But Papa!”“No.” For the first time since Vincent had joined him in the courtyard, Darius turned and looked his son straight in the eye. “You are my only remaining heir. Allowing you to join me is nothing but foolish. What would happen if both of us were killed, hm? Control of the family business would fall to my cousin, and the Zackly name would fall into obscurity.” Darius’s mouth twisted at the thought. “That cannot happen.”Vincent’s normally liquor-glazed eyes were surprisingly clear. “I would stand by you and protect you, Papa. None of those fucking dogs would lay a hand on you if I were there. I swear it.”Darius regarded his son’s earnest face for a moment more and then turned away. “My decision is final. Respect it.”He sensed, more than saw, Vincent deflate. “As you wish, Papa,” he muttered, and then, like a pup with its tail tucked between its legs, Vincent sulked off.If only Fenton had lived, Darius thought wistfully. His older son was twice the man his younger son could ever hope to be.But Vincent was all he had left, and he would protect the little fool because of it. When it was his turn to take over the business, there would be a team of carefully chosen advisors to help him navigate the complex waters of all the Zackly business affairs. Whether or not Vincent would ever learn and mature enough to run the family on his own remained a mystery, but at least the Zackly name would live on. Unlike the Dok name. Darius’s gaze drifted down once more to the men below him, his eyes homing in on Levi’s short but cutting figure.There were too many unknowns when it came to the driver, too many red flags; as good as Levi was at his job, he was a wild card, and that made him a liability.It was in that moment that Darius made a decision.When all was said and done and the Doks were dead, Levi would join them. She didn’t know how long she’d been alone. It seemed strangely quiet, almost peaceful, as she lay there bleeding on the floor of Nile’s office. There was a throbbing pain in her left hand, a dull ache between her legs, and a roaring headache stemming from the very back of her skull where she’d impacted the floor earlier, but it was all peripheral, ephemeral. Initially, the pain had been agonizing, but now Mikasa could barely feel a thing, as if her pain receptors had gotten so taxed that they had simply given up.Much like the rest of her.She still hadn’t answered any questions, though. Might as well piss Nile off in the one way she still could. She was going to be killed anyway; the least she could do was give him a reason to spit on her grave instead of smile over it.As if on cue, the office door opened and her small, fleeting bubble of serenity was punctured. Oh, well. Here comes more of the same. Mikasa wouldn’t have even acknowledged her tormentors’ reentry if it hadn’t been for the frightened, female voice.“Please let me go, sir! Please, I’ll be good, I swear!”At that, Mikasa’s eyes snapped opened and she pushed herself up on her forearms, looking on in horror as she saw Cletus march back over, manhandling a shaking Lydia in front of him.Not her, Mikasa thought with a distraught pang. Please not her. Nile walked in behind the duo, a smug grin on his face. “I hope you enjoyed your rest, Mina. I thought that, since you're our guest of honor at the moment, I’d take the time to reunite you with an old friend.”The shaking eighteen-year-old locked eyes with Mikasa, her own blue ones wide and terrified. “Mina,” she sobbed. “Oh, Mina, I’m sorry.”Mikasa’s heart twisted, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t.Nile didn’t suffer from the same reticence. “Still not talkative? Well, let’s see if we can change that. It’s time to try a new tactic.”With that, he nodded to Cletus.The posh man smiled and roughly shoved the scared girl to the floor.Lydia fell to her hands and knees, gasping, but before she could recover, Cletus sent her sprawling with a heavy boot to the spine.Mikasa pulled against her restraints, her bones flooding with guilt and rage as she watched the way her helpless friend was abused.“Where did you hide the phone, Mina?” Nile pressed. “Where is the driver? Who else knows about the contents of that file?”“Go to hell, Nile.”The crime boss inclined his head to Cletus, who in turn rained down a series of brutal kicks on a screaming, writhing Lydia.Mikasa continued to pull against her restraints, ignoring the biting pain lancing into her wrists as the rope chafed against her skin. “Stop!” She yelled. “She has nothing to do with this!”Nile didn’t so much as blink. “Then give me my information.”“I…” Mikasa hesitated. Perhaps Levi had come through and the Zacklys were already preparing their retribution. In that case, it wouldn’t matter if she gave up the information, would it? She'd given him a window of opportunity; that had to count for something. And even if Levi hadn’t been successful, maybe if she told Nile that the Zacklys knew the truth about Fenton, the Doks would strike first to protect themselves from the coming onslaught. The war would still happen. And how will you feel if Levi gets caught in the middle? What will you do if you have no way to warn him and he ends up dead? The troubling thought deepened Mikasa's uncertainty. She shouldn’t care about the driver, but she did. Putting his life in danger because she hadn’t stuck to the plan left her with a sour taste in her mouth.And her hesitation earned Lydia another brutal kick to the ribs. There was a sick-sounding crunch and the young girl yelped in agony.“Okay!” Mikasa squeezed her eyes shut, trying to master her emotions. “You want the truth? Well, here it is. I gave the phone to the Zacklys’ driver,” she said, taking a gamble. “He’s probably already given it to Darius, which means you’re screwed, Nile.”At that, Nile howled in anger. He strode forward and grabbed one of the pokers sitting idly by the fireplace. Turning on his heel, he jabbed it towards her, his arm shaking like a madman's. “Don’t you get smug with me, whore!” He shouted.Mikasa wasn’t afraid. She looked him square in the eye and spit on the floor at his feet.The anger in Nile's eyes became crazed, and then, with a snarl, he stabbed Mikasa in the shoulder. Teeth clenched with rage and exertion, Nile twisted the poker beneath her skin, widening the wound, and Mikasa and Lydia both screamed. Then, with a heavy grunt, Nile withdrew the iron tool and nodded to Cletus. “Get her friend on her feet,” he barked.Cletus grabbed Lydia and jerked her up, holding her securely as Nile sidled towards her.Mikasa’s eyes widened, her own pain forgotten. “No!” She screamed. “I gave you what you wanted! I told you the truth!”Tears were pouring down Lydia’s pale face. “Mina,” she choked. “Please…”“Leave her alone!” Mikasa screamed, once more yanking on her bonds. But it was no use; she was making progress but she was too weak to rip free. I promised her that I would make Nile pay. I promised her! Nile placed the edge of the bloody poker against Lydia’s breast. The girl struggled madly, but Cletus was surprisingly strong for his lean frame and her thrashing was in vain.“Please,” Mikasa echoed, now supplicant because she had no other alternative. “Please don’t hurt her,” she begged. I should have taken her with me that night. I shouldn’t have waited. I promised her, and now… “Please,” she begged again.Nile looked down at her, and, holding her gaze, he jabbed the poker into Lydia’s chest.“Lydia!” Mikasa screamed. I promised. The girl’s eyes went wider than they already were and then she slumped over, boneless in a way that only the dead could be. Without ceremony, Cletus let Lydia's body fall to the floor, leaving the poker protruding from her chest.“Now it’s your—” Nile began.The office doors burst open and one of the men that had abducted Mikasa from Levi’s apartment appeared, looking decidedly panicked. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Dok, but we’re—we’re under attack.”Nile reeled. “What?” He breathed.“The Zacklys…they’re here, sir. And they’re armed.”“Fuck!” Nile’s thin air of composure was gone in a second. “Round everyone up and call for my car. Cletus, kill the whore.” His gaze briefly dropped to Mikasa again. “And make it hurt.”With that, he strode from the room with the other man, leaving Mikasa and Cletus alone. Nile couldn’t believe how quickly it had all turned to shit. The outside guards were all dead and he could hear gunfire and screams coming from the foyer. And when he opened the service door to the kitchen…“Fucking hell!” He roared, stumbling back in shock.The Zacklys had even massacred his kitchen staff.Nile had always known Darius was not a man to be trifled with, but this level of slaughter was something he hadn’t expected.He had to get out of there.Moving as quietly and quickly as he could, Nile made his way to the back portion of the house and sprinted up the grand staircase. He’d initially thought to take his car, but judging from the carnage he’d seen near the entryway, his driver was most likely already dead.He would have to escape via another route.“Darius, please!”The familiar voice made Nile freeze in his tracks. Marie. He’d forgotten that his wife was at home.“Darius!” She cried again, her voice echoing up the staircase to Nile.The gunshot pierced Nile to his core.“Fuck you, Darius,” he muttered under his breath as he resumed running. “Fuck you a million times over.”He shouldn’t have stopped at Fenton Zackly. He should have killed the whole goddamn family when he’d had the chance.Still reeling from the loss of Marie, Nile barged back into his office. His personal guards were MIA, so he’d have to settle for Cletus as a—“What the hell?”Nile paused two steps into the office, his gaze riveted to Cletus. The man was sprawled on the floor, his head twisted at an unnatural angle, the fire poker speared up through his neck and mouth and out the top of his head.He looked like a fucking shish kabob, and he was very, very dead.The door closed behind him, and it was only then that Nile realized Mina was no longer tied to the floor like she had been when he’d left.He turned around as the hair rose on his neck——and her kick sent him careening to the floor.“Hello, dog,” Mina said as she fell on him.Nile fought back with everything he had, his panic rising as he realized that despite how she looked, Mina was strong. Much stronger than he anticipated. With a scream, he dug his blunt nails into her face and yanked down, rewarded by a sharp gasp and the sight of blood as she jerked back. He used that to his advantage, shoving her forward and rolling on top of her, except that Mina was faster and she rolled out of the way just in time, spinning around until she captured one of his flailing arms between her legs. Then, with his arm pinned between her thighs and her heels digging into his back, Mina bent backwards until…Nile saw stars as he heard the bone snap, and then, as though he were having an out of body experience, he looked over and saw – he fucking saw – his elbow sticking out through his skin.“What the fuck…” he rasped.Mina rolled him onto his back and straddled him. She was holding one of her ridiculous high-heels in her hand, and before he could react she brought the stiletto to his throat. “Don’t move,” she cautioned.Nile didn’t.“I’ve waited for this moment,” she said above him. Her voice was ice, her eyes were hellfire. “I’ve dreamed about it.”Slowly, she lowered her hips to his and rubbed against him. “Do you like that, Nile? Doesn’t it feel nice?”Nile bucked, trying to get away from her.Mina pressed the heel of the shoe into his skin, drawing blood.“You’re not going anywhere,” she said. “We have some scores to settle.”“What the fuck are you talking about, you crazy c—”Quick as lightning, Mina removed the stiletto from his neck and brought it down beneath his collarbone, puncturing his lung.Nile gurgled blood as his eyes widened in horror.“That’s for Lydia,” Mina said. She ripped the shoe free from his skin, blood sprinkling her face as she did so.Then she moved the stiletto to his abdomen.Nile tried to speak but only a gibbet of blood came out of his mouth.Mina brought the shoe down again, and Nile did manage to scream then, a bloody howl fueled by unmitigated anguish he had never felt before. “This—” Mina continued as she raked the shoe through his insides “—is for Eren.” She pulled it out, and it was only the shock that kept Nile from passing out as he saw the bit of intestine that clung to the once-shiny heel.Mina placed the stiletto above his heart. “And this,” she said as she slowly sank her weight onto the heel and down into his body, her voice no more than a whisper, “is for me.”By the time the shoe rested flush against his chest and the entire stiletto was embedded in his heart, Nile was already dead. Mikasa watched as the light faded from Nile Dok’s eyes, and then she took a second to relish the look of acute horror etched onto his dead face.“You deserved even worse,” she said aloud, and then she took a steadying breath and rolled off of the corpse.The strength and adrenaline that had fueled her since Lydia’s death was fading again, and Mikasa knew it was only a matter of time before she collapsed.Which meant that she had to act now. If she stayed here, she would die.With some effort, she heaved Nile’s bulk over. She’d noticed a gun tucked into the waistband of his pants earlier, and it would be a good idea to have a weapon when she—The door opened once more, and Mikasa came face to face with someone she had not expected to see.Darius Zackly.He moved into the room, looking from her to Nile’s corpse and back again, an expression of profound surprise on his face. And then his eyes narrowed. “You did this?” He asked.Mikasa nodded, and then she felt herself go pale as two Zackly men stepped into the room behind the notorious crime boss. The first she didn’t recognize, but the second… Levi. “I’m sure you had your reasons for killing him,” Darius Zackly continued, “but I’m afraid you’ve robbed me of my revenge.” His voice deepened, taking on an edge of authority. “Gavin. Levi.”Wordlessly, both men aimed their already drawn guns at her.The sense of betrayal hit Mikasa harder than she thought it would as she looked up the barrel of the gun that Levi had trained on her. When she met the driver's eyes, they were blank, emotionless. I thought you were different, Levi. I really did. She was a fool.“Hold steady,” Darius said. He drew his own gun and pointed it straight at Mikasa’s head. “I’ll take this one.”She was dead and she knew it, but that didn't mean she couldn't try and take Darius Zackly with her.Knowing she had nothing left to lose, Mikasa lunged forward, her hand closing around the gun tucked into Nile’s pants.She was too slow.The shot was fired before she pulled the weapon free. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It all happened within the span of a few seconds.Mikasa heard the gunshot ring out and then, with a startled gasp, Darius Zackly crumpled to the ground.While he was still falling, there was another shot followed by a grunt, and then a third and final shot.By then Mikasa had pulled Nile’s gun free, but when she raised it she found that there was only one man left standing to aim at.Darius Zackly was dead, blood pooling beneath his limp body, and Gavin was as well, done in by a clean shot through the head.Which left Levi, standing in the middle of the carnage, his gun in his right hand and his left hand clutching his bleeding shoulder.He seemed to be in some pain, but that didn’t stop him from laying his gun on the ground and kicking it towards her.Which was when Mikasa realized she had her own weapon pointed at Levi.She lowered it. “You…” She faltered, still reeling from what had just happened. “You killed your boss. You killed Darius Zackly.”Levi grunted. “And you killed Nile Dok.” His gaze flickered to the corpse – hovering on the stiletto speared into the man’s heart – before he looked back at her. Gone was his impassive mask, and in its place, Mikasa could discern pain and something that looked like guilt. “I’m sorry,” he said at length. “There was no way to extract you, but I…” His brows drew together. “I did try, Mikasa. I really did. And they should have fucking been here by now.”Mikasa didn’t understand his apology, and she was too dazed and weak to dwell on the fact that what he was saying didn’t make much sense. “Levi, it’s not your fault. I never expected you to…extract me,” she said, settling on echoing his own phrase. “And I certainly didn’t expect you to do what you just did.”Something broke in Levi’s eyes at that. “What—you thought I’d let Darius kill you?” He scoffed, the sound one of deep self-deprecation. “Guess I really do know how to hide my feelings.”“Levi, that’s not what I—”“It’s fine. I’d think the same thing if I were in your shoes.” He moved towards her then, stopping in front of her. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”With trembling hands, Mikasa unstrapped her remaining stiletto and took the proffered hand, then winced as she realized she’d used her wounded arm. With a grimace, she switched to her other arm and Levi gingerly helped her to her feet. Mikasa tried to hide how much pain she was in, but the look in Levi’s eyes told her she wasn’t doing a very convincing job.The driver’s gaze roved over her, his expression darkening as it took in each successive injury, and then he whistled through his teeth. “Fuck, Mikasa, it’s a miracle you’re even alive. Whatever you did to Nile, he deserved worse.”Mikasa wrapped her arms around herself. “Yes, he did,” she murmured darkly. He deserved to die a thousand deaths for all of the travesties he’s committed. She looked down at the corpse once more. “But at the end of the day, dead is dead.”Levi gave a mirthless chuckle. “That it is,” he agreed. He brushed a tendril of matted hair from her face, and despite the situation and their surroundings, there was something almost tender in the gesture. “Nile messed with the wrong fucking woman, that’s for damn sure.”Mikasa managed to muster a tepid smile in response, warmed by the respect in Levi’s tone.And then, not quite knowing what spurred her to ask but knowing she needed an answer, Mikasa blurted out, “Why, Levi? Why did you risk your own life – and take a bullet in the arm – to save me? I’m just some Dok whore, after all.”“Don’t say that.” Disgust lanced across Levi’s expression. “Don’t even think it.” He reached up and gently cradled her face with his hand, brushing his thumb against the cheek that wasn’t marred by fingernail tracks. “You are far from that, Mikasa. You’re…” He sighed, letting his hand fall away from her face. “Never mind. Now’s not the time.”Mikasa was about to say something, wanted to, but then Levi was moving away and the moment was broken. He bent down and retrieved Nile’s gun, handing it to her wordlessly, and then he picked up his own weapon and tucked it into his pants. “All right. Let’s get you the fuck out of this place.”Mikasa stood rooted to the spot. “Levi?” Her voice sounded small.He turned back.“I…I can’t go out into the street like this,” she stated, spreading out her arms and gesturing down at her barely-clad body.Levi cursed under his breath. “Right,” he said with chagrin. “Sorry. Let me…here,” he said, moving over to the fallen Gavin. He bent down and started undoing the man’s button-up. “It’s not great, but it’ll sure as shit be better than what you’re wearing now.”Mikasa was about to say thank you when someone stepped through the open office door—someone she had never seen before.He was young and good-looking, but his handsome features twisted as soon as he saw Darius Zackly’s body. “Papa!” He bellowed. “No! You—” his gaze homed in on Mikasa “—did you do this, puta? Did you murder my father?!” Vincent Zackly. The name came to her immediately, just as the youngest Zackly drew his gun on her.And just as she remembered the weight of her own weapon.Without hesitating, she brought the gun up and fired—“No!” Levi shouted as he shoved Vincent Zackly out of the way at the last millisecond. Instead of finding its mark, the bullet splintered into the wall directly where the young Zackly's head had been a moment before.Mikasa dropped her gun in shock, too stunned to even move.“Levi!” Vincent shouted, and then he was rounding on Mikasa, his face livid and wild. “You bitch! First you murder my father and now you shoot at me? I’m going to fucking kill you!” The last few words were a blinding scream, and the Zackly heir once more zeroed his gun in on Mikasa.Her eyes widened as she saw Levi move—and then Vincent Zackly fell to the ground, knocked out by the butt of Levi’s gun.And then she locked eyes with the driver. He took you in. He showed you kindness. He treated you with respect. He killed Darius Zackly to save your life. All the certainties engraved in her mind began to erode as she processed what Levi had just done. All the ways he had proved that he was different, all the things that had showed how unlike the crime families he was…all of it was superseded by the fact that he had just protected the heir to the Zackly family.Mikasa said the only truth she felt in that moment. “I don’t understand.”The driver’s mask was impeccable. “And I can’t explain.” He stowed his gun, calmly closed the office door, and bent down, gathering Vincent Zackly’s limp body into his arms. Then he hoisted the taller man over his shoulder like it weighed nothing at all.Downstairs, there were new sounds. Strange sounds. Heavy boots and voices. Shouts. The sound of people coughing.Levi had clearly heard the sounds too. “Fucking finally,” he muttered, just loudly enough for Mikasa to catch. He glanced over at her, watching as she moved to retrieve her gun. “Don’t. Leave the gun and stay here. They’re on your side.”“They?” Mikasa momentarily forgot the gun and rose to her feet, her legs wobbling with effort, her head spinning at the motion. “Who is here, Levi?” She paused, her gaze shifting pointedly to Vincent. “And why should I trust anything you say?”“I saved your life.”Mikasa didn’t back down. “You saved his, too.”“Mikasa.” It was something in the way his voice cracked over the syllables of her name that made her pause. “Please. Just…trust me.”The sound of footsteps was moving up the stairs.Mikasa stood rooted to the spot, partially out of exhaustion and partially because she was torn on whether or not she could believe Levi.But the driver did not share her immobility. He was moving towards the back door of the office with his unconscious quarry, clearly intent on fleeing the scene.Mikasa, head still swimming, picked up her gun and aimed it at his back. “Stop, Levi. Right there.”The driver froze and then turned to face her, his stony expression souring a fraction as he saw the gun.“Let me go, Mikasa.”She held the gun steady. “If I do that, this will never end.”“I promise you it will, but only if you let me go.”There was a crash as the door to the room next to theirs was kicked in.Mikasa knew they only had a moment, and yet she couldn’t seem to make a decision. She didn’t want to let Vincent Zackly get away, but she also didn’t want to hurt Levi.There was a term for her predicament, she knew. It was something her superiors had warned her about during training, the thing to avoid at all costs. Never let yourself become emotionally compromised. “Levi…” Her grip tightened on the gun. “I don’t…”His voice was strong and sure. “Stand down, Agent Ackerman.”Mikasa’s eyes widened in shock. “You knew?” She gasped.Levi simply looked back at her, face unreadable.He knew you were an agent. And he helped you in spite of it.Mikasa lowered her gun.The driver didn't waste his reprieve. As soon as her weapon wasn't trained on him, he disappeared out the back door.Gone.With an alive Vincent Zackly in tow.And then Mikasa had other things to worry about, because the new arrivals were kicking in the office door. Knowing she had no other immediate option, she discarded her gun and raised her hands in surrender.Smoke filled the room before the men did.Choking, Mikasa fell to her knees, and then, in a panic, she began to crawl. But the pain in her wounded body was too great and the smoke was inescapable.She collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, and rolled onto her back. There were figures above her, their faces masked. One was speaking to her, but Mikasa couldn’t make out what he was saying.She closed her eyes, blotting out their distorted silhouettes. Why did I trust him? Why? It was the last coherent thought she had before consciousness deserted her. At half-past seven, Erwin Smith finally powered off his desktop and pushed the mammoth-sized stack of files spread out before him to the side, feeling doleful. He’d gone through a countless number already and had barely made a dent.Still, tomorrow was another day. His eyes were strained, his headache was edging into migraine territory, and he needed to do something physical after sitting behind a desk for – he glanced at the clock on the wall above his office door – eleven hours. Sweet heaven, had it really been eleven hours?He sighed, running a hand through his blond hair, and stood up.“Mr. Smith?”Erwin paused. “Yes, Francesca?”His demure secretary cracked open the door to his office. “There’s—there’s someone here to see you, sir. Says he has an ‘off-the-books’ appointment?” Her arched brows scrunched together. “I can tell him to leave, if you’d like.”“Did he give a name?”A warming blush colored Francesca’s face. “No, sir. I asked, of course, but he...”“Yes?”“Forgive my language, but he told me to 'mind my own damn business' and announce him anyway.” The blush deepened. “I apologize, sir; I wasn’t sure what to do. His presence in the waiting room is making me uncomfortable.”Erwin gave her a wave. “Don’t trouble yourself, Francesca. Send him in and go home. I’ll see you in the morning.”His secretary hesitated. “Are you sure, Mr. Smith? I’m the only other person in the office right now.”At that, Erwin smiled. “As unsettling a man as he may seem, I can assure you that he means me no harm. We’ve known each other a very long time.”Francesca’s mien of displeasure proved she was still far from convinced, but she nodded all the same. “As you wish, sir. See you in the morning.”“Good night, Francesca,” Erwin said as she closed the door.A few moments later, the man in question walked into his office, no courtesy knock offered.Erwin wouldn’t have expected anything else. “Levi,” he greeted, trying not to let the concern show when he noticed the bandage adorning the shorter man’s shoulder. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow.”Levi came to a stop in the middle of the room and shrugged. “I had time tonight, figured I might as well drop in.”“Oh?”“Meaning,” Levi continued, “that I managed to persuade Vincent to recover from his ordeal in the family estate outside of the city. The Zackly mansion is, at present, empty.”“I see.” Erwin walked around his desk and gestured to the two sitting chairs by the window. “Sit with me, Levi,” he requested as he folded himself into one of them.Levi stayed where he was, looking mildly antsy. “I’d rather not.”Erwin’s gaze didn’t falter. “I know.”After a suspended heartbeat, Levi scowled and took the free chair, arranging himself so that he was perched on the edge rather than reclining on the plush seat cushion. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. Then, to Erwin’s mild surprise, he asked, “How is she?”Erwin had known Levi would inquire about her, but he hadn’t expected the man to be so forthright about it. “Healing,” he answered. “There was a…a great deal of damage.”Levi shot him a dark look. “And whose fault is that, huh?” His voice dipped in pitch. “I asked you - practically pleaded with you - to extract her before this shit all went down.”Erwin steepled his fingers in his lap, an unconscious posture he assumed whenever he was trying to puzzle someone out. “Yes,” he answered, keeping his voice neutral. “You risked a great deal coming here to do that.”“All for naught. As usual, you just raised those lofty eyebrows at me and did jack and shit.”“The timing was too risky, Levi. You know that. If I had sent an extraction team in for Mikasa and the Zacklys had heard about it, they might have become worried about police or agency involvement and called off the attack. We needed this war to occur. My hands were tied.”Levi cut in with a mirthless snort. “It doesn’t count if you tie your own hands, Erwin. You make the rules. You could have done something.”It was a truth Erwin had long since learned to live with. “Yes,” he replied simply. “I could have.” The neutrality in his voice wavered. “You of all people should understand that burden, Levi.”Levi raised his head slightly, his brows furrowing together in pain. “True enough,” he replied, voice flat. Then, in a complete turnabout that made Erwin glad he was already sitting down, Levi added, “I’m sorry. You know I respect what you do. I just…” His lips twisted. “We’ve had to let so many agents die, Erwin. Too fucking many. I’ve had to sit back time and again and watch them meet their fates, and this time, I—I couldn’t. Mikasa…” He averted his eyes. “Even I have my breaking point, Erwin.” He cares about her. Deeply. Erwin had suspected it, especially after Levi’s outburst a few days prior which had been exceedingly out of character for the stoic man, but this solidified it in his mind.Which brought him to the reason he’d asked Levi to come in to begin with. “After this, I’m taking Mikasa out of the field permanently,” Erwin said. “I should have pulled her weeks ago, when she first made contact after Eren’s death, but I admit I risked her so that she could fulfill the mission.” He paused. “She’s almost as stubborn and determined as you, Levi; I knew if she set her mind to it, she’d be successful, so I—I let events play out. But now Vincent Zackly knows her face and attributes his father’s murder to her, so she can no longer work in the field.”“Even if he didn’t,” Levi interjected, “you’d still need to pull her, Erwin. She’s been through way too much shit and she’s—“ a cold half-smile tugged at his lips “—well, let’s just say she’s as okay as I am.”Erwin frowned. “Levi, about that…”The shorter man glanced over at him, gaze wary.“I think it’s time I pull you out, as well.”Levi nodded in a way that said he’d been expecting the conversation to head in this direction, but he didn’t say anything, so Erwin continued.“Seven years deep cover is more than a long time, Levi; it’s a lifetime. You’ve devoted yourself to bringing down the Zackly family and you have been very successful in doing so. I think it’s time to retire your cover for good.”“No.” Levi stood up and turned to face him head on. “You’re right, Erwin. Seven years is a lifetime. I’ve given up everything to see this through—even my humanity. It’s been more than I can—” He cut off abruptly and took a cleansing breath. “For years, I didn’t even feel like I was getting anywhere, but when Vincent became the heir apparent and Darius made me more or less Vincent’s keeper, well…I realized I had a shot. And then Mikasa walked into the mess, and she propelled everything into motion. I owe her more than you realize.”Erwin didn’t miss the note of respect that seeped into Levi’s tone, but he kept quiet, wanting to hear his agent out.“Mikasa basically ended the Dok family single-handedly, and I finally got to put an end to Darius Zackly.”At this, Erwin did cut in. “And yet you spared Vincent.”“Yes,” Levi replied. “Erwin, I know how this family works. I’ve become one of them, for fuck’s sake. If I’d let Mikasa kill Vincent, the family would have fallen under control of Blaise Goebel, Darius’ first cousin. Blaise is shrewd and resourceful and every bit as ruthless as Darius. Vincent, however, is not.”Understanding bloomed within Erwin. “But because you saved Vincent, control of the Zackly family will now go to him.”“Yes, and through him, me.” Levi paused. “Vincent trusts me—now more than ever, considering I saved his life. And he is a waste of atoms, a partying drunk who will be more than happy to let me step in and handle the family affairs so that he can keep acting like a pig.”“Which, I take it, you plan to do.”At this, Levi offered an icy smile. “I plan to take control and run them right into the ground. By the time I’m done, there will be nothing left.”Erwin sat in silence for a long while, processing. Finally, he came to a decision. “Levi, if you were anyone else, I would sanction this without blinking an eye. But you…as you’ve said, you’ve devoted a lifetime to this. I want to at least give you the option of walking away.” He looked up at the other man, watching closely for a reaction. “As I said, I am retiring Mikasa Ackerman from field work effective immediately. I could retire you as well. I’m sure I could find a situation that would suit the both of you…if that’s what you want. I’m giving you the option.”Levi’s face retained the unreadable mask that only an agent who’d been working deep cover for years would have the ability to retain. “It’s a tempting offer, Erwin, but it’s not an offer I'm going to accept. The Zacklys murdered my mother; I owe it to her to see this thing through to the bitter end. I will see it through.”Erwin frowned. “At the expense of your own freedom and happiness?”“At the expense of everything.”Erwin leaned back, regarding his longtime friend and colleague closely. Levi had always been strong—nigh implacably so, but he sensed that something minute had changed within the man in the past few weeks. There seemed to be a rawness, a humanness, that had been reawakened in him, and while Erwin was the commander of the SC first and foremost and cared about the success of his operations, he cared about Levi more.So he played a card he hoped would make Levi fold. “And what about Mikasa?”Finally, a fissure appeared in Levi’s mask. “Mikasa…” To Erwin’s great sadness, Levi mastered himself. “She and I will go our separate ways,” he said in a tone that made it clear his mind was made up. “After all, what future would an agent in the SC and a man working for the Zacklys have?”Levi’s resignation was audible, and it pained Erwin. “Levi—”“Do you think I’m wrong about what will happen with Vincent in control of the Zackly family?”Erwin stopped, unwilling to answer.Levi chuckled dryly. “Didn’t think so. Let me do my job, Erwin.”“And when the job is done?”There was a heavy pause. “Maybe desk work wouldn’t be such a terrible thing.”It was the closest thing to hope Erwin could ask for, so he accepted it. “Very well.”Levi inclined his head and turned for the door. “Til next time, Erwin,” he said as he turned the knob.“Levi.”The other man paused.“537G.”Levi arched an eyebrow at him.“That’s her room at the hospital.”Levi didn’t react or acknowledge the information in any way, and he slipped from the office without another word.Erwin stared after him for a long time, and then, feeling even wearier than he’d felt a half hour earlier, he stood up, flicked off the lights, and left the office. Levi watched her sleep, only slightly comforted by the regular rise and fall of her chest. She looked terrible—her exposed skin a canvas of abuse, and the IV protruding from her hand and the beep of the heart monitor machine only heightened the fact that she had come very close to dying.Levi wasn’t sure how long he’d been there watching her, but he knew visiting hours had long since ended, and aside from the normal, mechanical background sounds that every hospital seemed imbued with, the place was quiet. He was alone with a slumbering Mikasa and his own thoughts.Still, he tried not to think, because when he did, Erwin’s offer was at the forefront of his mind, beckoning to him like a siren. A life with Mikasa, a life outside of the mafia. Granted, for all he knew, Mikasa would not want anything to do with him; he hadn’t missed the look of deep mistrust in her eyes after he’d spared Vincent Zackly from her bullet.Levi was still pondering this thought when he realized, quite suddenly, that Mikasa’s eyes were open and that she was staring at him through her half-raised eyelashes.He saw her throat work. “Le-vi,” she managed to croak out. Her voice was heavy with medication, and the effect of whatever meds were being pumped into her was visible in her watery eyes as well. Her dark brows furrowed slightly. “Why…?”“Don’t worry; I’m just passing through,” he lied, although the fact that he had dragged a chair to her bedside and was parked beside her like he was intent on growing roots no doubt gave him away.Mikasa licked her chapped lips. “You were telling the truth,” she said at length.It was Levi’s turn to feel confused. “What?”“They came…they were my people. Agents.”Understanding blossomed. “Yeah, they were.” Levi hung his head. “I’m sorry, Mikasa. I really did try to get you out sooner, I just…couldn’t.”“’S okay,” she mumbled. She coughed once, a raw sound that made Levi’s heart clench uncomfortably. “Can we…talk later? When I’m not…” She raised her IV-ed hand weakly.Levi nodded. “If you want to, sure,” he said, though he guessed she wouldn’t feel the same way when she was in full control of her faculties.He rose. “I’ll leave my contact info with your boss,” he said. “But if you change your mind—”“I won’t.”Levi felt his lips pull up in a faint smile in spite of himself. You never lose your resilience, do you, Mikasa? He sighed. “Get some rest, Mikasa,” he said, rising from the chair.To his surprise, she reached out and tugged weakly on the hem of his shirt. “Stay?”Levi was convinced he’d misheard her. “What?” He asked for the second time in as many minutes.Mikasa blinked, her eyes clearing just enough for him to see a tinge of vulnerability. “Just until I…I fall back asleep. Please.”As if he could have refused her.“All right. Just until you fall asleep.”He sat back down, wondering – not for the first time – how Mikasa would react if she knew who he really was. It seemed that, for some baffling reason and despite who she thought he was, she didn’t hate him. If anything, she seemed to care about him on some level. So how would she react if she knew that they actually worked for the same organization? That his true values and goals were not so different from hers? That he hadn’t always been the husk of a man seated before her now? Maybe she would accept you. Maybe she would even offer to help you. He wondered if he would be able to walk away from her if she did, if he would have the strength to make her leave, the strength to keep her safe.He doubted it.Mikasa’s gaze dropped to where his arms were folded in his lap, and wordlessly, Levi raised his hand onto the bed and slid it into her waiting, upturned one. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice as quiet and gentle as he could make it.All too easily, her eyes slid shut.Levi stayed there long after the steady rise and fall of her chest recommenced, lost in thought. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Mikasa shoved the handful of change from the cashier into her purse and gave the pimply teen a terse smile. “No receipt, thanks,” she said and stepped back, fishing out her phone as she joined the queue of people already waiting for their coffees.For a purse with so few items inside of it, it was ridiculously difficult for Mikasa to locate the bulk of her smartphone, and she was a second away from dumping the meager contents onto the nearest table when the thing’s screen lit up and it started to vibrate.Mikasa grabbed it. “Jean, hi,” she said as she answered. “I’m just grabbing some coffee. I’ll meet you in…” She glanced down at her watch. “Twenty minutes.”Jean’s sigh was audible through the phone. “Mikasa, the board meeting starts in fifteen minutes.”“I know that, and as we’ve discussed, you are perfectly capable of starting the meeting on your own. You could even run the whole show. We’ve gone over the material together innumerable times; you know our presentation just as well as I do.”There was a pause, followed by another sigh. “I guess, but I’d feel better with you here. You're a bit more eloquent than I am. Just get here soon, okay?”“Twenty minutes,” Mikasa repeated. “I’ll be there.”“Also…are we still good for later?”It was Mikasa’s turn to pause. “Sure,” she said.“Cool. You gonna stay over this time?”He asked it nonchalantly, but Mikasa knew what he was hoping for. Still, she wasn’t ready, and even though Jean didn’t know it, he wasn’t either. Nights were still difficult, and the nightmares…“Probably not,” she admitted. “I have an early morning.”“Oh.” The disappointment was audible even in his monosyllabic response. “Okay. Cool. See you soon.”“Bye, Jean.”“Mikasa? I have a large coffee, extra shots, for Mikasa?”The voice interrupted her musings.“Thank you,” she said as she stepped forward and retrieved her steaming drink from the counter.The air outside was crisp and cold and refreshing after the stifling air of the crowded café, and Mikasa took a deep breath, letting a peaceful smile curl her lips. She knew that she had a scant amount of minutes to get all the way across town to the office, but her therapist had told her to enjoy the little moments, to drink them in for her well-being, and Mikasa was aiming to follow that advice. Let yourself heal, and let yourself be a person. Not an agent, not Mina, just you. Mikasa closed her eyes and took another breath of cold, fresh air, and then, feeling a small, needed swell of rejuvenation, she began walking.It had been Erwin’s idea—seeing a shrink. Mikasa had been reluctant at first, wanting to deal with her problems on her own, but at his insistence she’d relented and gone.And realized just how much she needed to talk about everything that had happened. It had been difficult, at first. For months, she'd tethered down the grief of losing Eren and the horrors of what had happened to her at the Doks, anchoring the trauma far down inside of herself, and those initial therapy appointments, when her psychiatrist had led her to open up and wrench those feelings free, had been painful and terrifying. Still, Mikasa had found that even though the experience of reliving what she'd gone through was harrowing, it was a needed catharsis. So, when her six mandatory sessions had run out, she’d scheduled weekly follow-ups for the foreseeable future.Slowly, after she’d been able to divest herself of the burdens and abuse and grief, healing had begun to happen. There were still nightmares, and still days when something would trigger a memory from her time as Mina and send Mikasa into a downward spiral, but those instances were beginning to dwindle.She was starting to remember how peace and contentment and normalcy felt.Almost before she realized it, she was in front of her office building. With a sigh, Mikasa pushed open the heavy glass door, stepped inside, and waved her badge at the security guard.“Good afternoon, Ms. Ackerman,” he said, giving her a warm smile.“Hi, Todd,” she replied, returning his smile before heading for the elevator down the hall.Three minutes to spare, she thought as she pressed the button for her floor. Not bad.Jean was waiting for her on seven when the doors opened and the elevator chimed its presence, looking frazzled.“Mikasa, thank God. I can’t find the—”She cut him off and pulled out a portfolio folder from her purse—the one item that was easy to find due to its size. “Don’t worry, I brought an extra.”Jean’s stress drained from his features instantly, and he gave her a sheepish smile. “Honestly,” he said. “How did I even function before you got transferred here?”It was Mikasa’s turn to smile. “Not well, I imagine.” She reached up and straightened his tie. “Ready to go in?”The smile on his face turned tender. “Now I am,” he said, and the warmth there quieted Mikasa for a moment and made her, guiltily, think of someone else.Then the moment passed. “Perfect,” she answered. “Let's go.” It was late when she left Jean’s building, nearly eleven o’clock, and the streets were all but deserted. The nighttime air was frosty, and Mikasa could see her breath fogging before her as she walked. She bundled her coat more tightly around herself and pulled up her hood, trying to shield her shower-damp hair from the cold breeze.The walk from Jean’s apartment to her own was only about ten blocks, but by block five Mikasa was a walking icicle.When she saw the poorly illuminated sign of Marleyians a block later and the open sign hanging on the door below it, she ducked inside, more to escape the cold than for any other reason.She’d been there once before, but it wasn’t the kind of bar she liked to frequent. It was dark inside in a dingy way, with dark red carpeting and bar stools to match, and the lighting was so low that it almost hid the various age and liquor stains from view—almost, but not quite. The place also perpetually reeked of smoke.The clientele matched the setting, and a pair of older gentlemen turned in their booth at Mikasa’s arrival, appraising her silently before turning back to their pitchers of beer.Ignoring the stares and the smell of the place, Mikasa walked over and took a seat at the bar.And froze, her heart leaping into her throat as she caught sight of the person sitting a few stools down from her.Seeing him was like seeing someone from another lifetime—a revenant from a past she wished she could erase.Her tongue felt dry in her mouth. “Levi?”His drink had been partway to his lips when she spoke, and he froze, stiffening at the sound of her voice. A second later he set the drink back down, untouched, and turned to face her.“Mikasa,” was all he said. He looked exactly as she remembered, right down to the resting scowl that had been an almost omnipresent expression on his face during their time together. Just as before, it was next to impossible to gauge his thoughts, although he seemed almost wary of her.Mikasa tried to formulate a response, a question, but the shock of seeing him had rendered her speechless.The Zackly driver cleared his throat as the silence stretched on. “You look well,” he said at length, and Mikasa recoiled from the formality of his tone.“I am well.” Well enough. “What are you doing here in Karanese?” She asked coldly, the question almost an accusation.“I’m on Zackly business.” He fidgeted with his drink, looking uncomfortable. “I’m just here for a day or two.”Mikasa said nothing, and the driver went on when it was clear she wasn't going to pick up the conversation. “I heard you were transferred to the Karanese office. I hope the change has been a good one.”Mikasa blinked. You knew? She wanted to shout at him. All this time? The admonition stung.She swallowed down her anger, not wanting to let the hurt show. “It has been,” she answered. “Things are less complicated here.”Her answer was cool and collected, but inside, she could feel a storm brewing. You knew, Levi. You could have looked me up. You could have come to see me. If Levi was aware of her growing inner turmoil, he certainly didn't show it. The driver nodded blandly and took out his wallet, placing a ten down on the bar counter. “Well, I should probably head…”“No.”Mikasa’s word stopped him in his tracks.She took a breath. “Why, Levi?” She said, unwilling to let small talk rule their pitiful attempt at a conversation any longer. “Why did you break your promise?” Her voice wavered. “I wanted, needed, to talk to you, and you just…disappeared.”“I thought it would be best.”Mikasa clenched her fists. “Best for whom?” She challenged, raising a brow at him. “After everything we’ve been through, I thought you would know me better than that.”Levi’s expression fell. “No…I—I avoided you because of me, Mikasa. Not because of you.”That surprised her. “What?”His face softened, not in a way that anyone else would have noticed, but just enough that Mikasa could sense the vulnerability simmering below the surface. “I risked my position for you, Mikasa,” he said quietly. “And I would have risked more. If I’d come back to see you…” His lips twisted. “Everything I’ve worked for all these years would have been gone.”Mikasa didn’t understand. “What does that even mean?”Levi glanced around, sizing up the room in an almost tactical way as his eyes darted from patron to patron. “Mikasa, I don’t think this is the time and place to—”“Oh, yes it is.” Mikasa stood up and stepped closer to him, resisting the urge to raise her voice even though, at that moment, she didn't care who heard her. “You went dark, Levi. I haven’t heard so much as a word from you in nearly six months, and if we don’t have this conversation now, I have no doubt you’ll disappear again. So this is exactly the time and place.”“Fine.” Levi huffed. “Can we at least go somewhere less…public?”Mikasa relaxed slightly. “Okay.” At least he isn’t running away. “My apartment isn’t far from here—will that work?”Levi nodded. “All right.” He sounded resigned. “Lead the way.”Mikasa acquiesced, trying to ignore how much his reluctance wounded her. “Can I get you anything?” Mikasa asked, cringing at how awkward the question sounded, at how awkward the whole situation was. When they’d been living together all those months ago, there had been an easiness, a comfort, to their routine; she couldn’t remember a time she’d felt awkward around him. Now, though...“No. I’m fine, thanks.”Mikasa hung her coat on the rack by her front door and nodded. “Okay, well, I need a drink.”She poured herself a generous serving of vodka, thought about making it a vodka soda, and then quickly decided against it. It was definitely a straight liquor kind of a night.Drink in hand, she went and sat down at her kitchen table. Levi sat down in the adjacent chair, not quite meeting her eyes.“So you’ve really been okay?” He asked, still not looking up. The furrow of concern between his eyes made Mikasa’s stomach twist.“I’m getting there,” she hedged. She took a sip of her drink. “Healing is a longer process than I expected. I…I don’t think I realized how badly damaged I was after everything that happened. I was so busy surviving and so determined to complete my mission that I pushed everything else aside.”Levi nodded in a knowing way. “Like your own well being.”“Yes.” She shifted in her chair. “Like that.”The hint of a grimace appeared on the driver’s face. “I know the feeling.”Mikasa let the silence stretch on, taking a lingering swallow of vodka before speaking again. Then she took a breath. “Levi.”Finally, he met her gaze.The question had been burning at her for six months, but the words seemed to stick in her throat now that she finally had a chance to ask. Still, she was determined to get them out. “Why did you save Vincent Zackly?” She asked, voice heavy.Levi’s expression didn’t change. “That’s a complicated question. The simple answer is that I needed him alive.”“Why?” Mikasa pressed.“Because otherwise I’d be out of a job.”His casual answer rankled her. She tossed the rest of her vodka back and slapped the glass down. “Really?” She said, lips tight. “That’s your reason for letting the last remaining heir of a terrible family survive and live to thrive another day?”Infuriatingly, the driver’s expression still didn’t change, even in the face of her anger. “More or less,” he deadpanned. “Don’t forget, I do work for them.”“But you saved me. And you knew I was an agent. If you were truly in the Zacklys pocket, why do that? Why save both of us? For all intents and purposes, this is a war, and he and I are on opposite sides.”“That fact doesn’t dictate my actions. I saved you both because I wanted both of you alive.”“Even him?” She pushed, realizing then that she’d been waiting for him to recant, to admit that saving the Zackly heir had been a mistake, to confess that he was really one of the good guys.The driver gave a tired sigh. “Yes, Mikasa,” he said, crushing her hopes. “Even him.”Mikasa felt her eyes flash. “So you’re just a twisted sycophant after all, just trying to rise through the ranks? You don’t care that your boss is one of the foulest people alive?”She wanted him to deny it, wanted him to lower his guard, to let her in, to help her understand…to give her anything, really, except for this façade of unaffectedness he was portraying now.He didn’t. “Vincent cannot hold a candle to his father,” was his reply. “In my estimation, I’ve traded in my former boss for a much less intimidating model.”“He’s still a Zackly!” Mikasa shouted back, her anger building again. “I don’t…I don’t understand, Levi.” Please, make me understand. “Why did you start working for such an evil family? And why are you still loyal to them? What messed you up so badly that you thought people like the Zacklys would offer you a better future?”It was Levi’s turn to be quiet for a time. Slowly, he said, “Working for the Zacklys gave me purpose when I had nothing left. As for my loyalty…well, at this point, it’s necessary.”Mikasa’s chest felt too tight, uncomfortably so, as if someone were squeezing her heart in an effort to turn it to pulp. She swallowed. “So what was I, then?” Her voice sounded small to her own ears, anger giving way to pain. “Was I just a means to an end? A pawn to further your own plans? A convenient screw?” Her eyes blurred but she blinked back her tears, defiant to the last. “That night after the party…when you cleaned me up and put me to bed…was that just an act? Did it mean nothing to you?”Levi stared at her. “Is that what you think?”Mikasa pushed her chair back and stood. “What else should I think?” She challenged. “I…I know things started poorly between us, but everything changed. By the end, I cared for you, Levi. So much. And then you broke your promise and disappeared without so much as a goodbye.” She turned away from him, facing the wall. “And now you’re here and it’s all so clear.” She closed her eyes, shutting everything out. “Please leave,” she pleaded softly, not wanting him to be there when she fell to pieces.She heard him stand, heard him walk around the table, and then, just as she opened her eyes, she saw him reach the door.Levi paused. “Mikasa.” His voice sounded strained. “Please believe me when I say I never wanted to hurt you. I want you to be happy and healthy and safe.”Mikasa looked at him, saw that he was being genuine, and it shifted the tide, her pain rising back to anger.She laughed, and it was cold and harsh and as raw as her emotions. “Fuck you,” she spat at him.Finally, the stoicism cracked. “What?” Levi said, clearly taken aback.Mikasa strode towards him and shoved him, hard. “I said, fuck you,” she repeated, the last two words dripping venom. She shoved him again, liking the way the violence made her feel.“Knock it off,” Levi said, evading her as she made to shove him a third time.“Why?” She rounded on him. “What are you going to do—lie to me again?”He held up his hands, clearly about to say something——and Mikasa punched him squarely in the face.Levi’s head jerked back at the impact, a startled gasp of pain hissing from his teeth. When he recovered, there was a spark of anger in his eyes and a trickle of blood running from his nose. Moving so fast it almost seemed reflexive, he grabbed her and slammed her back against the wall, his forearm against her throat, his other hand restraining both of her wrists.Mikasa didn’t so much as squirm. “Go ahead,” she said. “Hit me back, make me bleed. Give me something to remember you by.”Levi growled. “What the fuck are you on about?” He barked at her. “I’m not going to hit you, you idiot. I meant what I said, Mikasa: I never wanted to hurt you, and if I did, I only did it to ensure your safety and freedom.”Mikasa narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin in spite of her constricted position. “Oh really? That’s rich. Why would you possibly care about my safety and freedom?” She demanded. “Why?”“Because I fucking love you, Mikasa!”Both of them froze, neither of them even breathing for a suspended moment. Then, slowly, Levi released her and stepped back. “I love you,” he repeated, hanging his head. “I know you probably think that’s bullshit, that someone like me isn’t capable, but that’s the fucking truth.”Mikasa’s throat was dry as dust and her mind was reeling. “Why…” she faltered, stopped, tried again. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”“Because you might have stayed,” Levi answered. “And that would have gotten you killed. Vincent knows your face.”“You could have left,” she offered.Levi looked up at her, and there was a resolved kind of strength shining in his eyes. “Not yet,” he said. “Someday, though. After I finish something I started a very long time ago.” He paused. “I know that's vague as hell,” he added, “but I can't tell you more. Please understand.” Who are you, Levi? She almost asked him, because once again, the pieces weren’t adding up. The person who had helped her, the person who loved her, was somehow the same person who willingly worked for the Zackly family and had ensured their survival.She was missing something, some key element that would connect the disparate parts, and she wanted desperately to know the truth.But because she loved him back and realized, almost belatedly, that she still trusted him, she let him keep his secrets.She stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest, covering his tattooed heart. “To someday, then,” she said, and then she leaned in and kissed him.It was a soft kiss, a gentle brushing of lips to lips, but she could feel the want and desire and pain in the way Levi pulled her closer and snaked his fingers into her hair, in the way he gripped the black strands like a lifeline.Mikasa opened her mouth, still gentle, uncaring of the metallic taste of the blood that had dripped down from his nose, her arms going around his neck in an effort to get closer.The solid wall of muscle she met when she arched into him felt like home.Levi gave a quiet groan and his hands slipped down her rib cage and landed on her hips, pulling her into himself, his fingers still clutching at her almost desperately.For a few moments, they stayed like that, each clutching at the other, each lost in the simple ache of being almost close enough to bridge the space between them.Levi broke the kiss first, resting his forehead against hers. “Someday,” he repeated, the word sounding simultaneously heavy with promise and bleak with grief as he spoke it. Someday. Mikasa held on to him for another moment, knowing that as soon as she let him go, he would be gone. For a transient moment, she thought of telling him that she loved him back, but then the moment slipped away.Reluctantly, she unwound her arms from his neck, her hands moving down over his shoulders and chest, and then she let him go.They looked at each other for a drawn out moment, and then Levi uttered a goodbye and turned and left.A mere smattering of seconds passed before Mikasa rushed to the door. She brought her hand up to open it, imagining herself running after him, telling him how she felt, convincing him that they should make it work in spite of the odds. In those few seconds, she imagined a hundred happy endings for them. In a few versions, they were working side by side to take down Vincent Zackly. In others, they ran away together and lived life off the grid. In a few, she saw them old and wrinkled and still together, living somewhere mundane but content in each other.In all of them, every single fleeting version of what could be that she glimpsed, they were happy. Someday. Mikasa turned the deadbolt and locked the door. He hadn’t opened the drawer in a very long time.The old school revolver was still resting inside, alone, its once bright surface coated with dust.Levi picked it up, feeling the weight of it in his hand.There was only one bullet in the cylinder, a fact Levi knew without looking.More slowly than he needed to, he opened the cylinder and slid the lone bullet out, letting it fall into his palm, the gold of it gleaming as it caught the muted rays of sunlight reaching in through his bedroom window. Without taking his eyes off of the bullet, Levi set the gun down and stared at the bullet for a long time, unmoving. He’d had it for years, ever since he’d stolen it from the evidence locker.He remembered that day vividly, more vividly than he wished to.He’d told himself it wasn’t really stealing since his mother’s name had been on the bag it was stored in; in any way that mattered, he was owed that gun and the one bullet still loaded inside.The bullet felt heavy his hand, heavier than the gun had felt.In some ways, it was.Levi closed it in his fist and stood, walking out of his bedroom, down the stairs, and out his front door, stopping only long enough to twist his key in the lock. Then he walked the three blocks it took to get to the bridge that spanned the sole river running through Sina – a fast-moving body of brown liquid that no one would ever mistake for water – and made his way to the very center of the bridge.There was a cold breeze accompanying the bright sun of the early spring afternoon, and Levi breathed it in, appreciative of the freshness. It felt apropos, in a way.He held his hand out and opened his fist, staring once more at the small gold bullet nestled there. He thought briefly, heavily, of his mother, and then he thought of Mikasa.“There are other ways out,” he said quietly into the wind, and then he turned his hand and let the bullet fall into the rushing current below. Gone. A flock of birds flew by overhead, the only other witnesses to its passing.Levi put his hands in his pockets and stood there for a moment, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. Then he took another deep breath of the crisp air and headed home, his thoughts focused on the future.
11393181	One Kiss For Love	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Park Ji Hoon, Kim Jonghyun \| JR", "Fandom": "Produce 101 (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "494", "Additional Tags": "No but this will be my last update before I ban Nu'est from my life for the next week, Lord bless my soul these two are so cute, fluffy af, Have I ever written anything this fluffy?, i should also stop writing about the results youd almost think i was salty about it, WinkBugi!!!, Aka the ship first shipped by the eel", "Relationship": "Kim Jonghyun \| JR/Park Jihoon", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Ocoa more like oh no it's Produce 101", "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 }	Even in the semi darkness of the backstage, Jihoon finds Jonghyun easily.It had been a long day, one that showed on Jonghyun's face, shadowed over and gaunt. He looked different than his on stage persona, and Jihoon finds his heart racing, as if he stepped into a private event. Still, he patters to the "Nation's Leader" (who didn't get in, he didn't get in and Jihoon didn't understand how-) and hugs the older male.Jihoon hates how Jonghyun's eyes close off, and he shifts into his Hyung/Leader mode."Jihoonie?"Jihoon didn't look up, to Jonghyun's dismay."Jihoonie,""You can cry in front of me." Jihoon cuts, voice muffled from how his face was buried into Jonghyun's shoulder. "You don't need to pretend."He can feel Jonghyun's hand rest on his lower back, how it deliberates. He looks up, trying to convince Jonghyun that he wasn't just another trainee he needed to stay strong and- oh.The look Jonghyun's sends down to him is one that shines, glowing with the brightness of a million shooting stars, showing him how the world could be just one single person. It hurt, to know he loved Jonghyun, to feel so much for a person so selfless and giving, to know he would probably never be able to touch him like this again."Jihoonie, I'm really fine."But he wasn't. He can see the hurt, the betrayal, the self loathing, the resignation that had disappeared from his eyes with each passing episode, that made Jihoon feel more and more and made his feelings burn- but now it came back.Jihoon wants to scream, and cry, if only for this perfect human who couldn't do that for himself.Jonghyun seems to notice his silence, and his other hand cards through Jihoon's hair. "I'll be fine, Jihoon-ah, don't worry about me."Jihoon bites back the sob, but it doesn't stop the springing of tears in his eyes. Jonghyun gave an amused huff of a laugh, tutting as he wiped the tears off his face. "Don't cry, Jihoonie, don't cry. We'll see each other again."The soft gentle words only make the tears fall harder and faster, hot and burning in his eyes. He pushed his face into Jonghyun's jacket, and let's the steady hands hold him.In the arms, the rank 2 he got seemed like nothing.When he calms down, Jonghyun pats his back and wipes away what's left of his makeup. Jihoon takes Jonghyun's hands as they wipe his lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A confession and a promise, he thinks, as he watches how the truth bleeds into Jonghyun's eyes."I'll see you at the concert, Jonghyun-hyung." He says, already feeling the adrenaline disappear and the embarrassment set in. In the last spike of emotion, Jihoon presses another kiss to Jonghyun's cheek and runs.He thinks, quietly to himself, that he'd try to get along with Minhyun-hyung much more than he already planned.
11384106	Aficionado	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Ducky Mallard, Anthony DiNozzo", "Fandom": "NCIS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by cutsycat", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-03T00:00:00", "words": "178", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Dictionary.Com Word of the Day Drabbles, One shots - Tony/Gibbs, One shots - Ducky centric", "Collections": "Cutsycat's NCIS-drabble lj collection", "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 }	Aficionado “Well dear boy, it’s almost New Years.” Ducky murmured thoughtfully.“Yeah. I can’t believe this year is almost over. I’m definitely ready to forget the old, bad things that happened this year like Paula Cassidy getting kidnapped by Kyle Boone’s apprentice and all the creepy killings that came to life during that case.”“But what about your relationship with Gibbs?” Ducky winked and nudged Tony with his shoulder.“Well that’s something that I definitely hope to see more of in the new year.” Tony glanced across the room at Gibbs and smiled slightly. “Out with the old and in with the new is more about making the changes that need to be made and celebrating the good things that are still going on. My relationship with Gibbs is definitely one of the good things.”“I didn’t realize you were such an aficionado of New Years.”“Well we haven’t had New Years off for the last couple of years and there wasn’t a whole lot to celebrate either, but it’s always been something I liked the idea of.”
11344359	Let Me Show You Who I Am	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)", "Fandom": "文豪ストレイドッグス \| Bungou Stray Dogs", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by gureshintrash", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "1,266", "Additional Tags": "takes place after their fight with Lovecraft, implied past relationship, finally these two attempt communication, Chuuya is sober this time, getting together (again), oh look Dazai has insecurities, Soukoku Week, Soukoku Week 2017", "Relationship": "Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Soukoku Week 2017", "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 }	It was surprising just how often he ran into Chuuya since he returned to Yokohama. Maybe 'ran into' isn't the right expression. It was more like Dazai caught glimpses of him. A flash of red curls and a dark billowing coat passing him on the other side of the road. A flushed face sipping wine through a restaurant window. A familiar car driving through an intersection, license plate the same even if the model it's attached too is newer that the one he's used too.It became something like a game, to see how many times he could spot his old partner. Dazai found himself taking the longer route home that passed by the city's finest tailor and going out of his way to peek through bar doors to scan the patrons sitting inside.After the first few months, Dazai didn't bother with questioning or justifying. It was enough to get a quick glance and continue on his way. But tonight, Dazai found himself walking into a bar instead of simply walking by.Against his better judgement, Dazai had spent the better part of the evening wandering through the city hoping to stumble upon that particular redhead. The last time Dazai saw him, he was lying unconscious in the crass next to his coat and hat. Now something seemed to be tugging Dazai back to him. After the week he'd had, he lacked the energy to resist."What the hell are you doing here?" The question was spat out before Dazai even had a change to sit down. Chuuya must not have been here very long. His words were crisp and his eyes were clear. There was no alcoholic haze to soften the sharp pointed anger being directed straight at Dazai."Can't a man sit with his old partner and have a drink with him?""You'd think after all this time you'd learn to just leave me alone. It's what your good at."Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Dazai thought he could see the faintest hint of hurt swirled in with all that anger. That was a good sign. Hurt he could work with."Is it that unthinkable that I want to check in on you? You were in pretty rough shape the last time we spoke.""Don't bother acting like you care now, especially after walking off and leaving me there. It just pisses me off.""I didn't walk, I limped. I was injured Chuuya, how could you expect me to carry you?"Chuuya's grip on his cup tightened. For a moment, Dazai braced himself for the impact of glass against his face."You're so full of shit."When Dazai looked up, Chuuya was just taking a drink. His entire expression conveyed his annoyance at Dazai's continued presence."That's not true, I'm a good person now.""Ugh, your goody two-shoes act also puts me off.""It's not an act. People can change, you know." The words came out softer than before. It was a stretch, he knew, to hope Chuuya would understand. But that didn't stop the heaviness in his chest when Chuuya's expression didn't falter. "You're wrong. People don't change, not really." Chuuya's voice was cold and bitter, as if words so much as spoken to Dazai tasted foul on his tongue."That's funny, I seem to remember you being a shy, skinny kid who barely spoke a word. Now you're the cocky, loudmouth tank of the Port Mafia.""That's different and your know it. I grew up, I didn't suddenly pretend to be someone I'm not. Do your friends at the agency know your blood is blacker than mine? I wonder if they even realize they're being manipulated into whatever twisted game you're playing.""I joined the mafia for my own purposes, and I left for my own purposes too. I was looking for something I couldn't find, and I moved on. Or did you really think I was cruel enough to enjoy that life?""You murdered people and sent others to their deaths. You tortured and blackmailed and kidnapped. And now you think you have the right to go around saying that you save people?""Don't tell me you believe a former killer isn't qualified to be a good person, because on that account I know you're wrong."For once, this wasn't going at all the way Dazai planned. An argument with Chuuya was the last thing Dazai needed right now, but at this point it seemed inevitable. Maybe blowing off some steam was what they needed to calm down, but if they walked away from each other now who knew when they'd get another chance."I am different, or at least I'm trying to be," Dazai tried again. How could he make Chuuya understand, make him see what was so clear to him. He waited for a response of some kind. Anything. A word, a gesture, a facial expression. All he got was Chuuya staring down at the melting ice in his glass."I never thought you were a cruel person," he said eventually. "Not until the night you left." His voice was still ice, but it was starting to thaw around the edges."I'm sorry Chuuya," Dazai answered, because there was nothing else to say. He didn't regret his choice. He'd make the same decision every time. But something in Chuuya's eyes, or maybe his voice, or the way his mouth curved down into a frown had the words spilling from his lips."Then why did you leave me there, then?"And that was the heart of the issue, finally let out in the open. Dazai leaving once was something that could be accepted. But to Chuuya, Dazai had proven in one night that he hadn't really changed at all. He was still the sick bastard who manipulated people into trusting him only to leave them hurt, vulnerable and alone. His old partner must've thought he had a good laugh about that one. How could he explain to him why he turned and walked away? How could he explain that he broke a promise because he was scared of the familiarity, how easy his past came flooding back? How could he explain that-"It felt a little too much like old times, don't you think?"Chuuya stared up at him in confusion."Some people find it daunting to relive the things they ran away from.""So, you're afraid of me?""I'm afraid of slipping back into who I used to be."It felt right, fighting with Chuuya the way they used to. Muscle memory pulled him into old habits. His mind was in overdrive thinking through their strategies, and it was easy to fall into the thinking patterns ingrained into him during his mafia days. Watching Chuuya use corruption, Dazai had to fight the impulse to drag that knife across Steinbeck's neck."Then why are you here?""I thought I'd like to show you who I am now."Chuuya's blank face wasn't very reassuring, but Dazai pushed forward anyway. He'd come this far, and he'd likely never get an opportunity like this again."Come have dinner with me, Chuuya." Dazai looked down at the redhead hopefully. The anger had morphed into confusion and apprehension, but that flicker of hurt had become something like joy. It was a long shot, Dazai knew. But since when did Chuuya ever make the simplest choice? A long minute passed, filled with a heavy silence. Then a gloved hand slipped between Dazai's fingers, slotting perfectly into the gaps that had been left empty for far too long."I don't have any plans tonight."
11364492	No Acrobatic Sex Stunts	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Xavier Dolls, Wynonna Earp, Jeremy Chetri", "Fandom": "Wynonna Earp (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by convolutedConcussion", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-01T00:00:00", "words": "1,682", "Additional Tags": "Shower Sex, Jeremy the Shower Goblin, Hey Quick Question Do Any Doors At The Homestead Lock", "Relationship": "Xavier Dolls/Wynonna Earp", "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 }	So, Wynonna is definitely gonna explode.“I’m gonna explode,” she whines plaintively into Dolls’ lips. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste because they’ve been up for all of ten minutes, and he’s a little slow to react. She can feel his hands hovering over her before they finally settle on her hips.To be fair, she did just ambush him at the bathroom sink.It’s just that every time he’s put his hands on her or his mouth on her or—another door opens to reveal an incredibly scarred-but-apologetic sister (occasionally accompanied by a much less sympathetic Nicole). She hadn’t realized how few locks existed at the homestead until this shit started. And anyway, Dolls is pretty hesitant to do anything more intense than look at her when her sister is in the house. Which she is… often. So, sue her for taking advantage of an empty house. “They’re getting back at us,” she says.“Us?” he grunts, jerking away and frowning, “You. I know how to knock.”She lets her hands rest on his shoulders and leans back as far as his grip will let her to let out an exasperated sigh. “I dunno how you’re so together because every time I have to watch you do half-naked push-ups I spend the next half hour wishing I were the floor,” she replies, smile growing when he curls one hand around the back of her neck and drags her forward.“I did wonder what that was about.” His breath teases against her lips.“Do you know,” she demands between hard, fast kisses, “How many days you’ve been sleeping in my bed?” She punctuates it by kicking the door shut.“Seriously?” he asks, pushing her back up against it.She doesn’t say yeah, seriously, this is the only room with a lock and I still gotta go face my terrible boss because she forgets, briefly, how to form sentences as his teeth graze her lip and that’s fine that skill got her in trouble she’s better off without it just, god, don’t let him stop kissing her. He does, technically, stop kissing her, but just long enough to get to her neck with his teeth and lips and his stubble, fuck, and she gasps and grips the back of his shirt. Every nip and drag sends tingling heat straight through her.“This is, um,” she says, distracted when his fingers slip under her top, over her side, “This is fun, really fun, but I was actually thinking…”He pulls back enough to look back at the shower behind him. “That’s a terrible idea.” She snorts and doesn’t say every part of this is a terrible decision. “You’re gonna fall and bust your head open,” he says seriously as she skirts him to fiddle with the knobs. As she begins to straighten, he tugs her backwards into his chest. Her hair is brushed over one shoulder and she feels lips on the back of her neck, at her hairline, and fingertips skimming over her belly. “And, as a man who really does care about your health and happiness, I’m gonna wanna take you to the hospital.”His pause is expectant so she tilts her head to the side and prompts, “But?”“But as a fugitive, I may have to pass,” he replies, and she can hear the grin in his voice.“Well, that’s arousing.” Sighing, she holds up three fingers and promises, “No acrobatic sex stunts in the shower.”He chuckles and holds her there for just a moment before backing out of her space. Hooking her fingers into her pajama top, she tugs it up over her head. She has a little trouble with the shorts, then jumps behind the shower curtain without looking to see if he was actually going with this mostly just so she doesn’t have to see if he’s laughing at her. She gets just enough time to duck under the spray of hot water and take a few bracing breaths when the curtain next to her shifts. When she turns to face him, it’s all she can do not to stare (or inhale her damn tongue) and she suddenly realizes just how small that shower is. She catches a water droplet on his shoulder with her lips.“Just don’t let me fall, okay,” she jokes lightly, watching her own fingers trace around his scar. Idly, she wonders why he tolerates her fascination with it, even now as he cups her jaw, presses his lips and nose to her temple—it’s a little closer and more tender than she really knows how to deal with, honestly, but so many things have been lately, maybe she’ll just get used to it and it’ll stop making her chest ache.Quickly, she arches up into him, mashing her mouth into his hard enough to distract from the rabbit-fast beat of her heart. She thinks he gets the message because he holds her closer and for a moment it’s just his skin and his teeth and his tongue and his soft moans she can feel and hear and taste. She lets her blunt nails drag down his sides, smiling when his breath catches. The noise he makes when she grips the base of his cock is, frankly, amazing and she’s going straight to the hardware store after this and getting a lock for her bedroom door because she’s gonna need to hear that roughly every day for until the end of time. She strokes slowly, swallowing his ragged breaths as his hands trail down her neck, over her breasts—his head drops to follow and the angle is awkward but he teases a low whine out of her. Fingers trip down her stomach until they’re slipping over her aching clit and she has to bite her lip to hold back a moan as she bucks into the touch.“Oh, my god,” she breathes shakily as she tugs him back up to eye-level. “I need—I need you to—” she pants openly into his mouth and he nods silently even as he pushes her hip. She twists, plants her hands against the tile wall. His hands feel so big on her hips, pulling her against him so she can feel the length of him. She’s right on the verge of reminding him she still has to go to work when he eases into her and all she can manage is a low, “Fuck.”Now, this could be the weeks on weeks of sexual frustration speaking, but when he rolls his hips her knees go weak and she can’t really hold back the shuddery whimper that wriggles out of her and her nails catch at the crumbling grout between the tiles. Voice unsteady, she begs for—for more or harder or just please, and it must get through to him because he does, fingers digging into wet flesh. She straightens until she’s flush to his chest and he curses into her hair. His thrusts slow as his fingers spread out over her sides, slip up to her ribs and she thinks she forgets to breathe for a minute as she rocks back into him. Then he snaps his hips into her and she gives up all premise of trying to keep quiet and, God, it’s good the house is empty because the slap of skin on skin and her cries of pleasure and his moans and by the time he reaches between her legs she’s just completely fucking gone and her knuckles hurt before she even realizes she’s digging her nails into his wrist and she—she cums so hard she thinks she may actually have died. Wave after wave wracks through her as he keeps going, Jesus, and he groans and clutches her even tighter and it’d hurt if it weren’t so goddamn awesome. He starts to pull away, but at the involuntary little noise she makes in the back of her throat his arms wind around her middle as she feels his lips on her shoulder. It’s not until the water starts to go cold that she lets him release her, and even then, it’s only to shut it off.“You need to get ready for work,” Dolls murmurs into her sleepy, sated kisses.“Fuck work,” she says. “Fuck Luca—actually, wait, don’t.” She deeply, deeply appreciates his chuckle. When she starts to shiver and the constant drip drip drip breaks through the haze, she groans, “Fine, fine.”There’s no real, like, sexy way to dry off, so she just tries to get it out of the way as quickly as possible. Not quickly enough, apparently, because her hair is still sticking to her in soaked clumps when he reels her back in. She deals, she’s delighted to be afforded the distraction.For like a minute.“I really like kissing you, but I need coffee,” she mumbles.Wordlessly, he hums in what she assumes is agreement even if he hasn’t quite stopped kissing her yet.“Okay, break on three,” she jokes, forcing herself to step away. “That wasn’t three,” he complains good-naturedly as he follows her out the door.Right when she opens her mouth to respond, she hears footsteps and grabs the closest thing she can—some tacky-but-conveniently-heavy candleholder Waverly bought—and rears back to bludgeon whoever it is rounds the corner into the hall and—“Jeremy, I swear to God!” she exclaims shrilly, dropping the candleholder and clenching her fists, “Why are you here?”Holding a tablet a little precariously, the kid’s eyes sorta dart back and forth between her and—oh, they are wearing towels. Okay. That’s… fair.“Chetri,” she prompts sharply, tugging the towel a little tighter.“Um—ah! Right, I came here… for a reason,” he says haltingly.She waits a moment. “Can that reason wait for me to put on pants?” she asks expectantly.“Yes! Ye—uh, yeah, yep, please.”“Great, back in two shakes,” she snaps without any real heat. She rounds on Dolls, whose face is the kind of convenient variety of stony that indicates he’s probably trying not to laugh at her. “You too, boss.”
11344806	hematokyoant	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kyo (Dir en grey), Shinya (Dir en grey), Toshiya (Dir en grey)", "Fandom": "Dir en grey", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by elfiepike", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2001-06-29T00:00:00", "words": "1,797", "Additional Tags": "Blood, Consent Issues, Kidnapping, forced bondage", "Relationship": "Kyo/Shinya (Dir en grey)", "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 }	The traffic is terrible.Absolutely horrendous, Shinya thinks. He crouches on the floor of the limosine by the mini-bar and has a steadying hand placed gently against the tinted window. The vehicle has not moved for three minutes now.Kyo has been asleep for fifteen.Shinya had always known that Kyo could sleep anywhere, but it was new to him that the vocalist could sleep through anything as well. A convenient talent, Shinya thinks.He spends a moment watching Kyo breathe. Another person, in his place, would admire the drummer's ingenuity and quick handiwork: one necktie acting as a blindfold, the other fastening Kyo's pretty hands to the hand-hold above the window. It's a bit awkward, but with the seatbelt on, Kyo is effectively restrained.Just the way Shinya wants him. "Now's your chance, Shinchan!" Toshiya tells him as they leave the award ceremony. Shinya is not startled that Toshiya knows of his desire. He does find it serendipitous that the bassist approves, though. Toshiya has a habit of being overprotective of Kyo. Toshiya grins and winks. "You're definitely way better than the girls he's been dating recently, ne?" Ah. So that's why. The limo moves forward another two feet.Kyo's tongue slips out along his lips, a swift movement that is over too quickly, and he is awake.Shinya smiles, and a strange happiness settles along the rims of his eyes, like glitter."Nnn..." Kyo stretches one of his legs, and then suddenly sits straighter. He pulls at his hands. "What the hell?!" Clearly he has discovered his capture. "Konbanwa, Kyokun." Shinya's voice is like crunchy peanutbutter; his normally laughable tone has been changed by the subtle violence in his veins. Kyo stills, and Shinya cherishes the vocalist's rare vulnerability. "Shinya?" It's as if Kyo can't determine if he should be pissed off or happy that it's someone he knows.If Kyo could read Shinya's mind, he would have no trouble deciding. "Kyo doesn't date men, usually," Toshiya discloses, his voice low and his glance bright. "But he'll warm up to the idea. He's that kind of person." This idea intrigues Shinya. "What kind of person does that make him?" "Oh," Toshiya says, matter-of-fact, "the kind that can't help enjoying themselves." He sucks delicately at his cigarette, the real reason he had pulled Shinya outside ten minutes before everyone else. "Don't underestimate your strengths, Shinchan: rhythm, mystery, and a hell of a right punch." He grins cheekily and smoke seeps out of his mouth from between his teeth. For once, Shinya doesn't mind the smell. "Yes?" Shinya crosses the few feet that separate Kyo and himself in the contained space of the limosine. (Perhaps, his mind wanders, I am now where I was five minutes ago.) He is close enough that Kyo can surely feel the tips of Shinya's hair against his forehead; the drummer places himself carefully, so as not to disturb his captive.Kyo shies away from the sensation and attempts a snarl, but his lips and piercings alone are too pretty for it to be effective. The bits of metal seem only to enhance the vocalist's appeal, like swirls of sauce on steak.Shinya wants to pierce Kyo like that.Kyo speaks, growls really: "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"Shinya remembers how Kyo's voice was the deciding factor when he joined La:Sadies, and closes his eyes. "Making you mine, of course." "Shinya, you--" Kyo protests, but Shinya takes this opportunity to glide his mouth against his vocalist's, sealing Kyo's words with his tongue. Kyo tastes almost of nothing, just wetness and the faint bitter flavor that all smokers seem to have. Kyo's teeth are sharp and smooth and symetrically crooked. Kyo's mouth is slick, soft gums and a tongue like rough sandpaper underwater.Shinya enjoys himself thoroughly until Kyo bites down, and he reacts before he means to, pulling back and slapping with more force than necessary. A red handprint blooms slowly on Kyo's cheek in the resulting silence, and the car vibrates smoothly as it starts and stops once more.They are quiet, a tense silence that thrums with the motor and something far less tangible.Kyo says: "Untie me." His hands are truly beautiful, Shinya thinks. He's pulled away from the vocalist, and sits on his heels. Kyo begins to struggle. "Untie me!"He must be uncomfortable, Shinya thinks, staring unblinkingly at the other man. He rests his fingertips on top of Kyo's knees. Kyo stills, and Shinya can hear his breathing, harsh and quiet.Maybe, Shinya thinks. He is having second thoughts. "Kyokun?"Kyo doesn't answer; perhaps he feels that any response would be redundant."Would you like something to drink, Kyokun?" Shinya had meant to say something about how this situation was entirely Toshiya's fault, but that, the drummer admits to himself, would have been mostly untrue. It is Shinya's fault that Toshiya even set anything up.Shinya turns back to the mini-bar. In the refrigerator he finds a bottle of champagne and at the steady speed of three-miles-an-hour he pours Kyo a glass.Shinya knows that Kyo doesn't like to drink, but it will be a distraction while Shinya ponders what he should do with his captive.He lifts the fluted glass to Kyo's lips; the vocalist is surprisingly docile. Shinya is careful not to touch him. He wants to save his strength.The limosine lurches suddenly forward and down as it hits pothole. Shinya is thrown against Kyo (So this is why we wear seatbelts, he thinks) and the glass angles just right so that it shatters upon impact with Kyo's jaw. There is stillness for a bare second and then the back wheels careen across the pothole, and the remnants of the glass (just a stem by now) slice across Kyo's face and neck.Kyo cries, then, something loud and profane, but Shinya doesn't notice; he is fascinated by Kyo's blood as it emerges from the thin slivers in his flesh, and the splinters of glass that sparkle dangerously within the wounds.Shinya can't hold back (he doesn't want to hold back): he closes the inches between himself and Kyo with his tongue, and, cat-like, tastes Kyo's neck.He can feel Kyo shudder beneath his mouth, and the smooth places of Kyo's throat are pleasantly salty. He reminds himself, There's glass, be careful, but it seems the splinters have already seeped away.The vocalist's blood tastes of iron."Shinya," Kyo ventures, his voice low and raw."Shh," Shinya says in the space between Kyo's jaw and shoulder. "Don't ruin it."Shinya makes quick work of Kyo's buttons. (The silent voyeur is amazed that he can do this one-handed.) He marvels that he is close enough to feel Kyo's breath hitch in his throat. He closes his eyes, and pushes the shirt off Kyo's shoulders. If only I had fastened his seatbelt differently, Shinya thinks.He traces a path down Kyo's torso with the glass; his touch is so light as to leave Kyo breathless.Shinya is pleased with this result. He removes himself from the heat of Kyo's jaw and is fascinated by the thin line of blood that traverses Kyo's chest and belly. It does not occur to him that he is the cause of this trail of beaded crimson."Kyo," Shinya whispers, leaning close once more, "Kyokun, how will you let the world know that you are mine?"He still holds the remnants of the champagne glass; its jagged edge is marred by a faint hint of blood, still wet. Kyo's pulse is a heady rhythm. Shinya promises himself he will pattern a drum beat off it.Shinya tests the maleability of Kyo's lips with his tongue. When Kyo does not answer, Shinya pulls back. He is curious, his eyes narrow. That Kyo says nothing infuriates him somehow. "Will you tattoo my name across your skin?"In the darkness of the limited space, Shinya wishes he could see Kyo's eyes. He would know what insolence Kyo had within him, if that were the case. (Shinya holds himself apart from his friends because he knows their effrontery would trigger an unseen predator in Shinya's muscle-memory. Shinya is very strong; this kind of attack would not go victimless.)"My skin," Kyo says, tilting his head to show the wounded expanse of his neck, "is not worthy of that.""Ah," Shinya says. He is satisfied with this answer, and with the manner in which Kyo offers himself to the drummer. "Perhaps we shall go deeper."Shinya removes Kyo's blindfold. He had not intended to do so; something sharp and rebellious is conveyed through the fluttering of Kyo's eyelids. The air, static, has changed.Shinya stills. I won't allow him to play along, he thinks. He must mean it."You're laughing at me," Shinya says. A subtle shift has occurred; there is a tense moment.Shinya knows now that he will attack. He wonders, briefly, if Kyo knows the language that his lashes contained.The glass in his fist is smooth against his palm. The streetlights lay a golden sheen upon Kyo's bare chest. The blood is dazzlingly dark against the planes of his abdomen.Their eyes meet. They can hear people moving about inside. Toshiya glances at the door, allowing himself another leisurely inhalation of tobacco and nicotene and the various other disgusting things that Shinya refrained from telling the pretty bassist about. "Try not to break him too badly, ne, Shinchan?" Shinya can feel the limosine pick up speed. Perhaps they have passed a crash, one with three fatalities, and bodies so ruined by metal that they are unrecognizable and the police have to use dental records and car registration to identify the dead.Toshiya does not know what I want, Shinya realizes. The aggression that he normally beats away through performances and silent glances at his watch has stirred his muscles. Shinya imparts this revelation: "Toshiya does not know what I want." He looks steadily where he knows Kyo's eyes to be.The vocalist's are shaded and dark, highlighted by glistening wetness. Shinya lays his hand flat upon Kyo's belly, and suddenly it's as if he can understand every neuron in Kyo's body; he could read Kyo's capilleries as roads towards Kyo's heart and brain, if he wanted to.Kyo's skin must be as soft as pudding, Shinya thinks, and the glass sinks past the epidermal layer with no resistance. "Shinya, I thought--" Toshiya is an amusing mix of reprimand and worry. He arrived at the hospital before Shinya thought he would, before Kaoru or Die even. He is breathless, panting. "I know that I--that it's none of my business, really--but..." Shinya takes pity on him. "He's fine, ne, Toshiyakun." Kaoru and Die emerge from the elevator. Shinya smiles.
11380605	How to safe a life	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Artyom (Metro), Pavel Morozov, Anna (Metro)", "Fandom": "Metro 2033 - All Media Types", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Tomed", "chapters": "11/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-02T00:00:00", "words": "25,526", "Additional Tags": "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mental Instability, Forgiveness, Bisexual Male Character, Guilt, Musophobia, Dysfunctional Family, Divorce, Self-Esteem Issues, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, Military Homophobia, Self-Hatred, Character Death In Dream, Suicidal Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loneliness, Friendship/Love, One-Sided Relationship, Complicated Relationships, Fear of Discovery, Identity Issues, Sexual Frustration, Slow Build, Emotional Roller Coaster, Trust Issues, Cancer, Psychological Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault", "Relationship": "Artyom/Pavel Morozov", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "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, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Step one, you say we need to talk He walks, you say sit down, it's just a talk He smiles politely back at you You stare politely right on through Some sort of window to your right As he goes left, and you stay right Between the lines of fear and blame You begin to wonder why you came Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness And I would have stayed up with you all night Had I known how to save a life T h e F r a y WDNCh, 2036 Artyom woke with a startled breath. With shaking hands he wiped the hot tears from his face. He could still see these big blue eyes, wide open in pure horror and the blood. Oh god, the blood... He gulped. A disgusting taste in his mouth. He felt like he had to puke in any second. How could someone feel so miserable from a simple dream?Gagging slightly he rolled to the side. It wasn't much thanks to the fact that he didn't eat properly the last days. Or in general. After the whole mess with the Reds his appetite wasn't as it used to be.With a shaky breath he got up. Trying to focus. But he couldn't get rid of the images in his head. He dreamt of him over and over again. Bright blue eyes. He hated them. For being so overwhelming. For not letting him have peace. Still he mourned their friendship. Still he found himself wondering if the man was safe and sound.Even after he turned Artyom in after everything they've been through. Their captivity by the Nazis. Their escape. The theatre. And then his betrayal. The torture from the Reds after that. And the incident at the Red Square...It was painful to think about the man. And Artyom had left him there. Barely breathing. He sighed deeply. His dreams were the best proof of how much he still cared. It was ridiculous. He knew. It was almost 3 years ago that he decided to pull that bastard out of the tight grip of the Lost Souls.He was too attached to that man. He couldn't let go. Couldn't let him die. Not like that. They had been musketeers. Only for a short time and even that wasn't something he was too sure of. Maybe Pavel planned to turn him in from the very beginning. How would he know?But even if Pavel had those thoughts, Artyom couldn't find the energy to hate the man. At least not as much as he wished to.Anna would say that he was insane for thinking that way. And he had to agree. He was entirely bonkers. It was sad to think of himself that way, but he refuses to do otherwise. Because how could he? He was beyond any help. Artyom's breathing stuttered.[Maybe you saw something more in him. Maybe it's the same as it was back then. With me?]"No!", he exhaled sharply, "Shut up!"But he knew that Zhen had just started.[You know I'm right. I'm always right. After all you should know best how you have looked at him.]"That's not true!"[It is. Stop pretending. Even he himself had noticed it. Don't you remember how awkward it was? After he caught you staring at his butt a moment too long?]Exhausted and in sudden fear of being overheard he frowned before his mouth escaped a defeated sigh."I don't know why you keep talking about it. As if it mattered anymore..."[It matters. You still dream about him. And not always about him dying in that building where you left him, or him drugging you, betraying you, letting them hurt you... You're beyond help, my friend.]Artyom could feel his face heat up like fire. He was ashamed for being confronted with that particular (and rather intimate) secret."...I can't choose what to dream! ...And there's nothing wrong with it."The last part was almost a whisper, full of low self-esteem. He knew it was okay to have interests not only in women but he felt bad for feeling that way. Zhenya knew about this conflict and fell silent. Somehow satisfied Artyom stood up and looked around. Thankfully Anna wasn't there. But in some corner of his mind he felt uneasy. She should have been back from her mission days ago.He heard a soft cry to his left and in an instant all was forgotten and he rushed over to the little bed."Shhh. It's alright. Im here."He lifted his son on his lap and wiped the tears from his little puffed cheeks. Bright green eyes looked at him, way brighter than his own and so pure. He loved his son. More than anything.He felt bad for not realising his distress earlier. Porthos always seem to notice whenever Artyom was fighting his inner battles. He was so sensitive to his emotions it frightened Artyom sometimes."Daddy?""Yes?""Why are you sad again?"A stinging ache exploded in his chest. Immediately Porthos tensed."Have I asked something bad?""N-no. It's alright."After a deep breath Artyom sat down on his bed, making sure his son was comfortable. The child was still looking at him with that strange worried look. Sometimes Artyom found himself wondering if there was more behind his adoption from the Dark Ones than him understanding their language. The Little One once said that he was now one of them, lesser human. Well, a part of him found that thought disturbing, but on the other hand... What if his genes were somehow different now? What if Porthos instinctively had access to telepathy? Was that even possible?[It sounds ridiculous.]"But how would we know?"Porthos looked at him then. Strangely understanding where others would be utterly confused. It was exactly this moment that Artyom felt completely sure that his son had some sort of heritage regarding the Dark Ones. Artyom had mentioned thoughts like that shortly after Porthos was born to Anna... And just imagining the look on her face (like he had been a completely maniac for suggesting something like that) left him experiencing a cold chill up his spine. They both lacked the ability to understand each other.[Be fair. Between you two you're definitely the complicated one.]Artyom chuckled slightly."Yeah, I guess."[She's not the one. You should have never married her, Artyom...]Before he could start to argue with Zhen his son was struggling to get to the ground."Daddy, we have to feed Shura!"Artyom smiled fondly and stroked through Porthos' adorable dark locks. The child immediately knew that he was allowed to go and hurried to get dressed properly. Shura, the little Watcher Artyom had rescued, was closer to Porthos then any human child in their Station. At the beginning it had concerned him deeply but he managed to accept their strange friendship eventually -at least to an extend. After all it had been his stupid idea to keep that pitiful little bag of muddy skin, fur and creepy eyes alive...Sighing (he did that way too often over the last months) he also started to change his clothing. His son was right, Shura will need to feed. To his shame he had forgotten to do so the evening before. The Watcher must be pretty hungry by now."Let's go, honey."Smiling widely Porthos lifted his arms."Please carry me."Chuckling low Artyom lifted his son with ease and walked outside their tent, to the north tunnels. In one of the side tunnels he had created some sort of big cage, it was not like the ones the Little One had been tucked in, it was wide and had a rather nice bedding with many old clothes. It really wasn't less than they've got in their own tent. The Watcher had enough room for sure and it really seemed to like that place, at least that's what Artyom thought, because, seriously, if it wanted to go it could escape any time.Watchers could ditch their way even through the sickest parts of the tunnels. Of course Shura was still just a baby but it surely could get deep enough to get under the poorly made fences he had come up with."Shura!"With a happy cry Porthos struggled to get to the ground again and as soon as he hit the ground the little Watcher was there -all over Porthos, greeting him nearly as enthusiastically. It was a heart-warming scene that reminded Artyom of the fact that they were completely oblivious about so many things in this world. As soon as the thought was there he had Khans voice in his mind reminding him of the new rules of nature in this post-apocalyptic world.With a slight frown he watched his son examine the body of the Watcher closely. It would've been amusing to watch if his son didn't look so determined."Porthos, what's wrong?""She's hurt, Daddy! Look!"He pressed the little Watcher to the side to show Artyom its right side -there was a really nasty looking fleshwound. Artyom flinched when he saw his son's eyes already watering. He knew what was about to come and he wasn't sure how he should handle the situation. He wanted to do the right thing, didn't he? But what was the right thing to do?"Daddy, she needs to get to a doctor!"Artyom couldn't help the smile escaping his lips about the sheer innocence of his suggestion."That won't be possible, Porthos.""B-But..."Tears were streaming down, his whole body was trembling full of emotions. Possessive little hands were clenching at the Watcher. Artyom halfway expected it to react, like the dangerous creature it was. But she stayed still. Pressed herself against her little owner and yelped in a pitiful manner as if she knew what was at stake. Artyom sighed silently. Watchers were monsters, yes. But, well, humans weren't that different. He alone had almost extinguished the Dark Ones after all..."We'll take her with us..."Porthos' eyes immediately widened. Relieved he hugged the Watcher."Thank you, daddy!"Artyom tried to straighten himself for the cold welcome party they definitely would get.[Sukhoi will kill you.]Artyom sighed."Maybe."At best it would be just a really uncomfortable discussion. Chances were not too bad for him. His step-father was still really delighted that he came back, that he was alive. And even if that won't help him he still had his trump card of being the 'hero of the Metro'. Oh, how much he hated that title... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Anna watched her son drawing something eagerly on the ground. Next to him sat the little Watcher. Anna shivered. She had to look up to Artyom. He was with them on the ground, leaning rather comfortably against a wall. She was mad at him. Furious. God, why was her life such a pain in the ass?? Everything regarding her mission had gone wrong, her leg was shot so she had to rest at least a couple of weeks, seriously that was unacceptable, and on top of all this she now had to deal with the fucked up ideas of her way too soft husband. He accepted a Watcher. It slept in their tent! Next to their son, for god's sake! Their whole community wasn't happy with this decision, but Artyom had made it pretty clear that he saw this creature as family. It was ridiculous. Their argument had been so nerve-wrecking. The Watcher wasn't the problem, they both knew it. She sighed and went inside. Artyom ignored her. It made her mad but at the same time she was so exhausted and...and sad. Why were they like this? Why was Artyom still a stranger to her? She sat on their bed and tried to get comfortable. It was merely 7 weeks ago that she had slept in there but still...It felt alien to her. She crawled inside and tried to relax her bandaged leg. Thereby she felt something under her pillow. She felt the texture and immediately knew that it was Artyom's diary. Anxious she looked outside. Artyom was cuddling with their son, Porthos seemed to need a rest. They just sat there, eyes closed. Completely at ease. She tried to ignore the sting she felt while looking at them. So peaceful. It hurt. Every time she left and came back she felt more alienated to her son. Why was Artyom so perfect with him? Both were acting so extremely close, everything Artyom did looked so natural, as if he was born to be a picture book father. She was jealous, yes. But she was also happy for her son to have such an amazing father. Feeling safe she took the diary of her husband in her lap, carefully watching the resting pair just outside the tent. Hesitant she opened it. She knew that she really shouldn't do that, but she was just so curious. And mad. If he would talk more with her she wouldn't be forced to read his diary to get at least a glimpse of what was going on in his head. My escape from the Nazi prison could be entitled “The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend”. This friend’s name is Pavel. He led a Red recon team wiped out by the Nazis. I never liked communists much, but Pavel acted like a real hero. Every time it was this name. Major Pavel Morozov. Artyom wasn't much of a talker, but this topic was even more secluded than any other. Which meant that he had never talked about that man at all. If she hadn't been there the day he reported to her dad, she wouldn't even know that name. We pulled off the impossible… Now I have to inform the Order that the Dark One is missing. Which means to acknowledge that I've failed my mission. But now, when he’s down in the Metro I won't be able to find him alone. I have to get to the nearest neutral station and then to Polis, the Order’s HQ. Pavel will show me the way. She scoffs. Artyom was sometimes so naive. It hurt to read this. Having a guide like Pavel sure puts my mind at ease. It seems he'd been here before. And Reich’s peculiarities don't surprise him. I wish I knew what kind of mission he was on… But I just can’t find the right moment to talk. But Pavel seemed to know that Reich was poised for war beforehand, while to me this was a revelation. Yeah, what a surprise. Why didn't he thought about it for at least 1 minute? He really should have known that something about this man was fishy. Pavel’s almost certainly going to hang. Who knows what would have happened to me, had he not released me? Red, blue, yellow - what difference does that make? He risked his life for me. You don't get that much in the Metro. I can't just walk away on him… I dragged Pavel out of the noose, and he says he’s going to take me as close to Polis as possible. Then I'll contact the Order and report on everything that has happened. The path to the legendary Theater lies through the catacombs. I've never been here before, and without my new friend I'd probably be completely lost. I hope he knows the way Pavel was captured in the vicinity of the Gardens, just like me. I wonder, what could he have been doing out there? What the hell were all of them doing out there? I think I'll hit him with that question - later. Right now we just need to stay alive and break out of the Reich borders. Yes, the Reds are no angels, but what the Nazis are doing is regular horror. And I am happy to have an ally like Pavel. Even if he’s Red Artyom seemed more reasonable in that part, she thought. Maybe there he had at least some minutes to think about everything. It hadn't been enough, obviously, but it was something. It also reminded her of the fact how precious her husband was, regardless of him being a rather crappy husband. Our short visit to dead Moscow, the phantom of the past, is over. Pavel and I helped each other out again and are returning down to the Metro as real partners now. You can’t survive the wastelands any other way. But now ahead of us lies a populated station, The Theater. It’s very close to Polis. If Pavel manages to lead me through the Red Line guard posts, I'll be home in less than an hour. Pavel needs some time to set everything up. The citizens of other stations need a permit to enter the Red Line. The state in permanent preparation for war readily sees a spy in any outsider. So I have some time to look around the Theater. This station is a real legend of the Metro - not unlike Polis, the difference being that while Polis gathered most of the surviving scientists, the Theater is considered to be the cultural capital of the Metro That was so stupid of me. I bought that talk of friendship, the stupid musketeer saying… Just you wait… I will get even. I wonder, though, why did Pavel go through the trouble of trapping me? Wait. What? "Musketeer thing"? Anna's eyes went wide."Oh god!", she muttered under her breath.Now she knew why he had been so determined to name their son "Porthos". A rather ridiculous name. She had been wondering ever since why he had chosen that particular name. She even had bought the book about these Musketeers! And now she felt so stupid, because she thought he had chosen it because of the personal traits of that character. Of what he wished him to be. But no. It simply was because of that man. Again. For fucks sake, what was it with that man?! Why did Artyom held him so high regardless of what he had done to him?Her stomach began to violently spin. But she forced herself to read further. I just have to catch up with Pavel and he'll tell me everything. We'll see how he is going to continue singing his songs of equality and brotherhood, of creating a just state for everyone… That traitor! After that there weren't any more pages. The last one seemed rather chaotic. And it was short. Shorter than all the others. It was just one line. I don't know anything anymore. Why am I still hurt? That was it. He didn't mention her. Their marriage. Or their son. Or how that whole Red Square thing had ended. How he had rescued everyone. There was nothing.On the beginning you could feel that writing in that diary was just so he could write down his adventures, sort his thoughts. But after he met that man? There was hardly anything left. It was frightening. Artyom had always found the time to write what was bothering him. But not until that incident at the Red Square. Well, except that one-liner, of course... One simple line and it held so much hurt inside, it left her feeling nearly choked. There was so much chaos inside her, everything went upside down. How could Artyom be so distant, so cold to her and regarding that man he couldn't even get a hold of what he was feeling? Her jealousy of that Red asshole boiled inside her, her throat burned like fire. She couldn't help herself she had to look over to Artyom. She was worried. Worried about their marriage. Worried about the hidden truth lying in that very sentence. Why am I still hurt? She was really worried about Artyom as a person. The moment someone stops something he had done before quite regularly, well, then there was clearly something wrong. She knew he had problems sleeping, she knew he was haunted by everything that happened, but almost everyone in here had those issues. They all lived in hell. They all had their problems dealing with their rough life. She put the diary aside, not sure what she should do about it. Or if she should do something. Maybe talk to him? She growled. This whole situation was not something she was comfortable with. She never wanted to have a child. To marry someone. Not in this awful disaster humanity had created. Being overstrained was hardly a description that fitted her emotional state. Helplessly she shut her eyes, trying to force her many worries aside. She was drowning.Oh, how much she wanted to be on her next mission again... Artyom caressed his sleeping son on his lap. Porthos was really clingy, especially since Anna got back. He seemed to feel like he had to make sure that Artyom was fine. It was touching how much Porthos cared for his well-being, well, if it weren't at least a bit worrying.[Just tell him that he shouldn't worry about you so much, I suppose that conversation will turn out just great]Artyom shook his head slightly amused. He had to agree. He would never tell Porthos what he was supposed to feel. Never. Even if Anna felt outcasted or lesser loved. She told him that she felt as if she was always the bad parent in their relationship. And her tone had implicated that she blamed him for it. And then there was the thing with Anna and her wish to leave Exhibition. Moving to Polis, so their son would have access to better resources as well as education. She believed that his best shot would be if he would grow to be a Brahmin. Away from all the fighting, growing up to be better than a murderer. And, above all, not living in the northernmost inhabited station but rather in the very heart of the Metro. Well protected. Artyom understood her reasoning, but he still thought that traveling with Porthos was way too dangerous. The alliance with the southern stations Alekseyevskaya and Rizhskaya was fully cemented, so they were now one large unified station with a telephone connection and lighting in all the tunnels. They had a good stand against Hansa, the Station was well fed and in good condition in general. Every child could read, they had a rather big book storage from Polis. And of course there was their special tea that was extremely popular in the whole Metro. Well, in Polis...there were some great opportunities, yes. But also many dangers. Him angering the Brahmin's regarding the whole being their "choosen one" was definitely on top of his current list regarding the reasons against her wish. Artyom and Anna had been arguing for the past 10 days straight. Porthos was so upset about their situation, and Artyom was loaded with guilt. It wasn't easy pretending that everything's alright, especially if the one you try to protect was some kind of telepath. Porthos knew that they were mad at each other. Hell, he even felt their emotions during their arguments! A rather horrifying thought... Artyom wiped the upcoming tears hastily away. He got an odd look from their neighbor walking by, but he didn't mind as much as other men would. He hated this whole "men do not cry!"-attitude they all had grown up to. Expressing feelings wasn't anything bad and thus he won't allow to let it affect him or above that treat his son like that. The others here in Exhibition judged him for his way of raising his child. Their reasoning was that Porthos would grow up to be an unstable, whiney loser and not of any help for their community, being not "man enough" to be a guard someday. Or even hold a gun. It was ridiculous. His neighbor, which had gone in his tent by now, had once stated under the influence of alcohol that he was rather disgusted by Artyom and his "gay attitude". There had been many more ugly statements of his, the last one had been the accusation of him raising a "fucking sissy". ...Well, that evening at the bar had not been a kind one for his neighbor. His nose had been pretty damaged and now, even with the best medical efforts, it remained pretty deformed. But Artyom didn't feel bad. To tell the truth he was still angry. If that man would only glance in the wrong way to his son, Artyom would immediately do it again. And with great pleasure indeed. He was not a violent person, really. But he was in good physical shape and not a saint. And there were some things that could anger him enough to react like the killer he was accustomed to be by now. "...Artyom?" He looked to the side. Anna stood in the opening of their tent. Something in her eyes told him that this was not about their personal affairs but business. So he waited, patience was the key to nearly everything. Anna rolled her eyes because of the lack of an verbal answer. She hated that kind of attitude he had. Why were they married again? "My father has sent word. He needs us." Artyom's brows furrowed. "That is...worrysome." [Indeed.] Anna sighed. "I know you don't want to leave Porthos here, but father was pretty clear that he needs both of us." "Anna, there won't be any discussion about it. I won't go." "Artyom-" "I said no!" And that would be it. Anna looked rather frustrated but she seemed not too surprised with his reaction. He felt the urge to defend his statement. "Anna, I'm sorry, I really am, but I won't risk Porthos losing both of his parents all at once or him feeling lost and unwanted if we leave him here -and I will definately not put him in danger by taking him with us. He's only three years old!" She gave him a hurt look. "Don't you think I know?? I don't feel good with it, too, but father would never ask if it wouldn't be vital. You know there will be another peace conference..." [And here we go again...] Artyom closed his eyes and failed to suppress a shudder. He was rather pessimistic regarding this topic, hell, even Zhenya seemed to be. It wasn't like he had lost all hope. He still dreamt about the whole Metro at peace-thing, about everyone helping each other. He was still an idealist. But. Now that he has seen so much of the shit that all those people had done. Witnessed most of it first hand... Well, he wasn't too euphoric about the possibility of peace anymore. He now knew how small the chances were. How far their reality was from that dream. But... He looked down, studying the calm and smooth face of his son. He had at least to try, didn't he?He had to try to achieve this future. Somehow. For his son. But... "...Anna, you know I'm the first to stand up and doing what is necessary to keep balance, to keep everything at ease. ...But it is Porthos' well-being we're talking about." "And that's exactly why we have to go! Don't you want to have peace because of Porthos? To secure his future and the future of every other child out there?" "Of course, but-" "And wouldn't you do everything you can to achieve that future?" "Yes, but-" "Then stop right now with your stupid excuses and do something about it! Like you have always done since the very day we have met!" There was silence after that for many minutes. Anna knew how hard it was for Artyom, damn, it wasn't much different for herself. But even if it seemed as if they had a chance, they truly hadn't. Not as the daughter of the head of Polis Security and the fucking saviour of the Metro! They had to do their jobs. They had to. Artyom avoided eye contact. He had just eyes for their son. His gaze full of love and acceptance, it was too much to bear. It made her defenseless. How could she be in constant argument with such a caring and open-minded man? "Would you not do everything for our son, Artyom?", she nearly whispered. Artyom's head went in her direction. The softness was gone. His expression went alarmingly blank. "I would slaughter every last human being in the Metro for him." She gulped but managed to nod. "If that's true then there won't be much that could happen to him, won't there? Besides, father has tasked his best men to come and accompany us back to Polis." "...How many?" Artyom rubbed his temple. He had a beginning headache just because of the thought of leaving Exhibition. Anna shifted uncomfortable in her seat, a rather unfitting gesture of her that made him feel sceptical. "Well, you know how he is..." He knew just then that he won't like her answer. [That behaviour is a bad sign.] "You mean an overprotecting, choleric and bossy father-in-law?" She ignored his comment. Mostly. Gifting him with only a slightly lifted eyebrow. "There will be 15 well trained Rangers coming over, the message got here pretty fast, but it will take at least 2 days until they reach our southern borders." 15 Rangers. That was way too much. He shook his head slightly and sighed deeply. "Well, let's wait and see how many of them we'll have here by the time being..." He didn't voice his concern, but Anna knew easily enough what he was suggesting. But she didn't wish to argue again with him and so she stayed silent. "I'm exhausted from my shift, I'll go to bed." Artyom nodded. "I will stay here a while longer." Wordlessly she went past him and made herself ready to bed. It was uncomfortable, their growing silence. They haven't slept together for ages. Last time was when Porthos had been a newborn. And even then... When was the last time they had kissed? Or had sex? Well... There was that time Artyom had been drunk and somehow they had ended up having sex. Pretty platonic, without much care or affection. It had been quite rough and short. Exactly like their first time to be true. Well. And that's it. Nearly 2 years without any romantic interactions. They were only at the beginning of their life as a married couple, that couldn't be normal. It just couldn't. She was at the brink of tears. And Artyom? He just sat there in the chair and read calm as ever a book about communism, her thoughts spat that word out as if it was equally disgusting as those ass fuckers who had lived in Alekseyevskaya for a short time. Before they had been kicked out for their disgusting "hobby" -her stomach turmoiled in protest to the pictures she had in her mind...One would think that she should be lucky. She had a pretty faced husband and a really kind and smart child... She sniffed as silent as she could and turned her back to that perfect looking picture of the endearing father reading his book and caressing his son who was slightly snoring in his little blanket and had one little hand quite possessively clinging to his shirt.How was she supposed to fit in there? Just how? Pained she shut her eyes with all the willpower she had. She needed rest. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Porthos was nervous. His mother and his daddy had told him that they had work to do and that they had to leave. Both of them. They explained to him, both minds loaded with worries, that they had to leave him here in Exhibition, because they wanted him to be safe.He had cried back then, yelling at them in a manner that wasn't likely for a 3 year old. He knew that. But he couldn't care less. His daddy had told him that he was fine just the way he was and he believed him. It was why it had hurt the most, the moment his daddy had agreed with his mother. "Daddy, you won't leave me. You promised!" "Honey..." His daddy caressed his shoulder helplessly. "No! You promised!" He could tell that Artyom was torn apart. But he was so scared. There was no way that he would stay back here! "Look, Sukhoi will protect you, he-" "No. I'll come with you!" "Porthos, please." Stubbornly the child held his head high. He never had been one to argue with his parents. Never. But he wouldn't back off. "Artyom, maybe-" "You can't be serious!" Anna shrugged. "No place is completely safe, you know. Maybe it is the right thing after all." "Please, daddy! I promise I will behave myself!" His daddy smiled at that. "You always do." He sighed. Looking somewhat older than before. Exhausted. "Honey, you are such a smart child, far above the average. But you don't know what you're asking for. Believe me. There... There are living nightmares in these tunnels. Many monsters. And they're not like Shura. Not at all." He shuddered with the reminder of his many encounters with demons. Those flying assholes... Or this monstrous mutant mother bear. Or this gibberish life form in D6. Or those spiders with their soft bellies or those shrimps. And the librarians, all in all maybe the creepiest creatures of them all. "I know that there 're monsters, daddy. I've seen many of them." Puzzled his daddy blinked. He exchanged a rather strange look with mother. Suddenly Porthos felt so unsure of how to proceed. He knew that his mother didn't like the idea of him being different. That's exactly why he wasn't comfortable in her presence. Ever. "What do you mean?" He couldn't find any more words. Suddenly he felt like he had said something bad. His daddy immediately softened. "Don't be afraid, honey. You know I'll never judge you." He offered his arms and Porthos accepted his invitation eagerly. He was embraced with warmth. It felt good and left him feeling relaxed. "I think I know the answer already, Porthos. You don't have to speak if you don't want to." Porthos nodded, but hesitantly he began describing. "I... I can see pictures in my head. Sometimes I can see what you dream. I can see the world above. All wild. And scary. I can hear screams. And scratchy sounds... Sometimes I see dead people. Monsters eating them..." His mother exhaled sharply, but his daddy wasn't as shocked as he thought he would. But, well, he had known. His daddy had always known. "God, Porthos. I'm... I'm so sorry." His mother came closer, but she stopped before them, unsure. Porthos looked up. He knew of her insecurities. Knew of her wish to be closer to him. Closer to his daddy, but he knew that this wish wouldn't come true.And with this he held his arms high and hugged his mother carefully. He knew that it was just the heat of the moment, of her being overwhelmed by her guilt. That moment would be gone pretty fast and then she would again look at him like he was alien to her. "Well..." His mother stiffened in their hug, so he put some distance between them, deciding to sit back on his daddy's lap. He loved doing that. Just being near him was so calming.With daddy he had not to worry about being too much, about being different. With daddy was everything easy. And that was why he would leave too. Grandpa Sukhoi was nice, yes, but he was so afraid, too. So nervous. And he observed Porthos constantly, never feeling at ease. It was exhausting. "Daddy, mommy, I know you are afraid that I could get hurt on this trip. I know you mean best with your wish of me staying here, but I won't like it here..." His daddy pulled him slightly closer. Porthos leaned in, getting rather sleepy. "Porthos, I won't like it either. But sometimes the way you don't like is the best possible option. Sometimes it is about more than what you want, sometimes duty has to come first." "...I'd rather die than be left alone." He was beginning to drift into sleep. He felt the darkness clouding his heavy mind. Concentrating so much on his parents state of mind had been so extremely exhausting... Artyom shivered slightly. The desperation his son felt left him feeling like shit. Unsure about nearly everything he looked up to Anna. His wife now sat heavily on their desk, looking as clueless as he felt. "...We'll break his heart if we leave him alone." "He won't be alone. Sukhoi will be there for him. He's only a child, he will adjust to...everything. Or do you want to tell me that your stepfather is the wrong man to entrust with our son?" "That is not the case, Anna. You know it isn't." He sighed, his head nearly felt like it would explode in any minute. Why was Anna now against the idea of bringing Porthos along? Just to get another argument? What was it with that woman? "You know Porthos is special. At least by now you should've figured that out." "I know I don't know him as good as you, thank you for reminding me!" Artyom growled deeply. "Don't make this entirely conversation about you feeling outcasted. We're speaking about putting our son in danger and we don't have time right now for any other topic, as we're about to leave tomorrow morning." She suppressed the upcoming anger and inhaled. Concentrate, she reminded herself, determined to stay on course. "Okay. What now? You think that taking him with us is a good idea now?" "Not a good one. But maybe it is the right one..." He laughed slightly. "Yeah, I know it sounds stupid. But... He is right. I promised him." "...And you're okay with the possibility that our son will get killed by wandering with us through those damned tunnels??" "Of course not, I'm far from that! But Anna, he really isn't some normal child. There is more at stake than just a broken promise. His questionable heritage is not something he takes lightly. And to be fair: you haven't been quite the supportive type regarding that matter. None in this station had been." She scoffed frustrated. "Yeah, I know I fucked up! You're of course perfect!" Artyom looked down. Why was she always accusing him of being perfect? It hurt. Pretty bad actually. What was so wrong with him doing everything he could possibly do to make his son feel good in his skin? Why was she always so easily aggravated? "Anna, you know I'm far from perfect. You of all people should know that... But I think I'd rather risk my son getting in danger with the possibility of me rescuing him than losing him emotionally because I've let him down. He isn't like a normal 3 year old. He knows what is awaiting him. He knows what could happen. He has seen it in our dreams, for god's sake! I can't speak for yours, but I can sincerely tell that my dreams are far from being subtle about the dangers lingering in the Metro..." She crossed her arms, but her face wasn't as hard as before. Artyom saw how her mind was calculating everything. Her eyes sharp and intelligent as ever. She was a remarkable woman. "...Do you really think that this is a good idea?" "Anna, I honestly don't know. How could I? God, I'm as scared as you are! But... He wants to be with us. And I can't blame him. The whole Metro is dangerous. In every second it could be over. ...So why tell him that he should stay safe if it is something he could never fulfill?" In the end Artyom nearly whispered. And after his words were out silence crept over them. "Daddy, why is this tunnel so bright with lights and the ones you always walked in your dreams were so dark?" Artyom smiled slightly. "Because these tunnels here are pretty good secured by now." "It is because of our neighbours, right?"Artyom nodded. "We'll reach Alekseyevskaya in less than 2 hours, I suppose." "You suppose?" "Well, Porthos, nothing is certain in the Metro, especially time. An old friend of mine believed that with us living underground the old concept of measuring time is long past outdated." One of the Rangers that accompanied them gave him a strange look, but Artyom wasn't bothered. "That sounds strange, daddy..." Artyom chuckled. "Believe me, at first I was as confused as you." "And now you're not." It was more of a statement than being a question. His son's telepathic abilities sure helped somehow. Maybe it would become handy to have that option if danger occurs. Maybe Porthos will be warned even before Artyom could instruct him to be in the first place. "...You think me being...well, me could be helpful?" Artyom snickered. "You're always helpful, honey." He glanced sideways to Anna. She wore a pretty sour look and he had no idea what could've been the reason for it. Maybe it was again her being angry at herself or him. Maybe she just wasn't happy with the whole situation and was brooding about how she would kick her father's ass as soon as they would reach Polis. And maybe she was just worried about their lovely trip to Polis.After all there had been only 14 Rangers reaching their destination... The One had died because a nosalis had torn his throat open. Porthos had been shivering because of the blunt explanation, but Artyom hadn't said anything. After all, it wouldn't help his son if they all held back information. It was a dangerous journey and death was nearly everywhere. And as much as he loved Sukhoi for taking him in, he surely won't raise Porthos like he himself had been raised. All the bad stuff had been hidden from him for as long as possible for Sukhoi and now Artyom had so much trouble accepting the reality as it was. Porthos looked back. "Daddy, Shura is over there... She didn't leave like you had instructed her to do." Artyom growled frustrated. He had tried to send the little Watcher back to Exhibition 4 times already. Sukhoi had agreed more or less to care for her, but just because Porthos had told him that he wouldn't talk to him ever again if he didn't.Well. They were way too far to bring her back and restrain her to stay with Sukhoi. It seemed like Sukhoi had luck. Frowning Artyom registered that the Watcher struggled to keep up to them. Her wound wasn't healed yet, so traveling through the tunnels wasn't something he would advise. He sighed and came to a halt. Adjusting the bag made of a bullet proof vest that held Porthos on him, he kneeled down. After sniffing carefully on his palm Shura let herself get carried. It wasn't comfortable for neither of them, but he would work out a solution within their next break. He had one spare shirt which could come in handy for his little transportation problem. He wasn't so sure if bringing Shura with them was a smart choice, to be honest. But he had allowed Porthos to grew close to her. Now there was no way back. And he knew by now that he had started to like that ugly little Watcher. She had proved herself numerous times to be extremely loyal and kind of over-protective regarding Porthos. And maybe, just maybe, she would proof herself to be helpful out there. Her instincts should be better than theirs after all. "Really, Artyom? You want this thing to accompany us?" He shrugged. Porthos answered on his behalf. "Shura is family, mother." Artyom scratched his neck. "Well, you heard it." "Unbelievable!" With that frustrated cry she walked faster and left them in the middle of those way too many Rangers. Artyom got goosebumps all over. He hated being stuck in this unhealthy relationship. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Anna sighed heavily. Her leg hurt like hell, but she wouldn't complain. Her father had negotiated their travel with Hansa and with it they had been heading west of Exhibition, passing through Prospect Mira, Nowoslobodskaja, Belorusskaja, Krasnopresnenskaja and now they were at Kiewskaja for the night. Because of that privilege their trip had been surprisingly comfortable and pretty fast, a rare and rather strange thing to happen, so she really wanted to stay low with thinking of all that could possibly go wrong.Passing through Hansa stations with that ease had been something she never could have imagined. She didn‘t trust that peace, she was accustomed to constant uprising in all kind of ways, so it was somehow logical that she couldn‘t find any comfort in peaceful situations. In fact she gained quite the opposite effect, which told her just how fucked up she was.After everything with the Reds regarding D6 the Order and Hansa had become pretty close allies. The first soldiers of Hansa had already access to D6 2 years ago and some recruits had proven themselves to be reliable and thus there were some that already held a good rank among the Rangers.It was way too early in her opinion, but she knew with them being so few, the amount of time until you could call yourself a Ranger of the Order had to be minimized as much as possible. Otherwise they wouldn't stand a chance to hold their position in the Metro. These hard times forced her father to hard choices and she understood. But she was still wary of those many new faces, it was hard to get used to them.So many good men had died. Sometimes she saw them in her dreams. Sometimes she had to force herself to reason, because she thought for some seconds that she really heard their voices from much deeper places of the tunnels, through some vents. It was creepy and got under her nerves every fucking time. But she knew that those voices were made up by a mind that had been awake far too long. She knew because there were no such thing as ghosts! It was as simple as that,...wasn‘t it?She glanced over to where Artyom and her son sat on their blanket. Artyom read a book and Porthos was already sleeping, he was even more sleepy than before. The journey exhausted him to extends she hadn't thought being possible. He already had been a sleepyhead. But now he was sleeping up to 15 hours per day minimum, sometimes he was awake for only 3 to 5 hours.It was scary. But somehow her son was gravely affected by those many strangers they met with every station they passed. And he seemed to know exactly who was well-meaning towards them and who wasn‘t. With this they had been able to avoid guards that would have made their trip uncomfortable, well, at least if what Artyom told them was true. He was the only one to understand the true nature of Porthos instincts. It scared her to death. Because, didn't that meant that Artyom himself was somehow more influenced by those Dark Ones than she had initially thought?She shivered. Maybe...maybe she was wrong and supernatural things like ghosts or magic existed? The Dark Ones for example. With their creepy powers. With them being...sentinel beings? But if she acknowledged them for what they seemed to be, then those moving shadows she had seen on her journeys, those moans echoing in the abandoned tunnels and the heavy steps she had heard without anyone in sight.Well, then that meant that all this crap hadn't been her imagination… She felt sick. And for the first time in forever she felt overwhelmed by fear. The last time she had been like that was with her being 8 year old sitting by her dying mother coughing blood and vile-smelling puke until her face had turned blue and her stuttered breaths had finally stopped.Goosebumps crept over her skin. For some reason she felt like she had been betrayed by Artyom. All she had wanted was to do what she had thought she had to do. As a woman. As the daughter of her father. To give him grandchildren and make him proud. She already knew as a very young girl that she wasn‘t made for something like managing a family. That wasn‘t her. She knew it. But she just had to give her father something back after so much he already gave her. He raised her all alone and he did his best. Not perfect, but just right. And she loved him for that.It wasn‘t fair that she had hurt him in the past just by being herself. He had been questioned a hundred times by his peers why his daughter hadn't already been married with a capable man since she had turned 16. Not being in any relationship at that age was troublesome as a woman in the Metro, but even before the missiles and all that shit happening, a woman had to play her role. There were expectations to be met. -Expectations she had efficiently ignored for as long as possible.She knew that her father had been worried for her. If he died, who would take care of her? He wanted her to have someone for the very real possibility that he would leave this world.Now she was married and she was sure that her father wasn't worried anymore for her safety that much. But still. He didn't approve of their match. And she wasn't happy. Artyom neither. And their son suffered because of that too. None was truly happy with their past decision she realised with remorse.Maybe it was time to negotiate. Maybe Artyom and her should start to be honest with each other. Maybe they should end this farce. Maybe-"Anna, you're still up?"Artyom looked surprised. Well, he had been too occupied with reading his new book. He had bought it from a merchant that had been traveling with them for a little while. His name had been John or something similar. A foreigner from America. His Russian had been really bad but for some reason Artyom had managed to talk with him in English. She hadn‘t been able to understand much of their conversation, but she heard enough to know that Artyom wasn't bad in speaking.She hadn't known that Artyom knew other languages at all. She had found out that he not only could speak English, he also understood bits of Spanish and also German to her uttermost surprise. Hell, he even understood Latin to an extend.How did he do that? Being so well-read with all this crap happening around them? She tried to imagine him as a child and before she could stop herself she just had to ask."I wonder, have you always been a bookworm?“Nothing in his facial expression seemed odd. He wasn‘t confused about her mindless question and she wondered why she found that disturbing."...Well, yes? I've been reading books since I‘m 4 years old.“"You could already read at the age of 4?“He shrugged helplessly. It was typical for him to downplay his achievements. And even more so that he didn‘t add anything further to the conversation. But she didn‘t want to end talking to another, so she continued."...It‘s hard to imagine you as a child, already being gloomy and cryptic.“"Hey, I‘m not cryptic!“Amused he put aside his book instead of holding it closely before his face just so she could barely see his eyes. Sometimes she got the feeling that he used his hobby mostly as an excuse so that he wouldn‘t have to deal with her."Khan is the mystical wise man possessing all kinds of the strangest knowledge, not me.“Anna thought about it for a moment before answering."In my opinion you are very much alike, you two.“Artyom shivered. Immediately he had Khans voice in his head, telling him something about being a wolf surrounded by sheep and Artyom being a wolf pup… This idiom indicated that Khan had thought similar as Anna regarding their likeness. But it made him feel all kinds of stuff. Stuff he would rather put aside again, deep down in his mind and not look at it ever again.Because Khan had left. Like they always do. Everyone left."Artyom?“Anna's voice was full of uncertainty, which made him flinch like she had punched him in the gut. Anna's eyes were unbearable at the moment. Blue. So very blue… „Whoa! That's the way to do it, bro! Just like the three Musketeers, eh? - if there were two of them.“ Artyom shivered. And it didn‘t help to close his eyes and try to concentrate on his uneven breathing, because he knew how Anna looked at him. He hated to be pitied or looked at as if he were a maniac. Especially by the woman with those stunning eyes that reminded him of even greater pain lingering inside of him. Eager to be let loose. „Red Line officer does not steal from corpses - but you're Spartan. Go ahead, hah!“Immediately he felt bile rising up his throat, burning like fire. He gulped, trying desperately to not loose his battle against his own body. But he felt that he was about to lose before it even started.Summoning the pitiful amount of dignity he possessed he stood up and excused himself hastily, almost running out of the tent they had been provided with, ignoring Anna calling him sorrowful. There weren‘t many people outside, thankfully most of them were already sleeping. So maybe he was lucky enough that none would hear him panting desperately for air and see him failing to hold his composure. Sniffing he rubbed over his teary face, feeling humiliated. He hated losing control like that. He wasn‘t ashamed of caring, of his feelings or of crying. But this ? This was more than he could stand. It was pathetic. Those trigger points were so dreadfully unpredictable.Every time he thought he was back in control and it couldn‘t surprise him anymore, the next time hit him even harder than the one before.What will Anna think of him now? She never witnessed one of his episodes, he had always managed somehow to excuse himself before he started to act too weird to be able to leave without attracting attention. Well...Until now.Stumbling he let his back hit the hard stone of a wall, far enough from any witnesses he hoped. But it wasn‘t like he could do much about it, he already felt the unwanted emotions sputtering to the surface like a volcano that started erupting after a long phase of trembling magma under a thin layer of crust.He could try to fight more against it. He could… He could at least try. But he didn‘t want to. He tried it already so many times and it never had any effect. He was so damn tired of this shit and he hated his easy resign. It was the decision of the infirm. „Whoah! So, how are you, chuvak? All right? ...Oh, you're tough, huh? No wonder they made you a Ranger.“Hearing this voice was stomach-churning. He turned to the side, already on his knees without knowing when he had slided along the wall to the ground. And then he puked as sick as a dog. And all the while he heard Pavel. Calling him strong. Making statements that let him believe that he gave a shit. That he truly cared. „ You're OK? Hurry, we're almost there!“ Helplessly leaning against the cold stone at his back Artyom closed his eyes nauseated by the disgusting taste in his mouth. „Look, Artyom! Don't lose your head in here, you understand me?“ Artyom snickered unhumorous.„Too late...“ With a cynical smile he struggled to his feet. He was pretty sure he had been gone for long enough that he could sneak back in their tent and curling up next to his son without waking Anna up. She was a practical woman and wouldn't waste her time with waiting for him too long, not with their mission to travel to Polis tomorrow bright and early.He wasn't ready to talk to her. Hell, he knew it was childish, but he really hoped that there wouldn't be too much of situations where she would have time to even look at him. Or think about what she had witnessed.An familiar whine got his attention. There in the dark he could see two yellow eyes approaching him. He sighed."Hey, my girl. What's up?"She kinda purred and pressed her face against his outstretched palm, rubbing smoothly against his skin for reassurance. And for once the upcoming small smile was honest."Ok, I understand. I'm sorry I made you worry 'bout me. I'm fine now."He patted her head and headed straight back. The little Watcher stayed as close to him as possible making it somehow awkward to walk, with her brushing against his legs ever so slightly, being very careful not to disturb him too much. He couldn't help but to caress this little sweetheart."Who would 've thought that you could be such a cutie?"Together they entered the tent, being as silent as they could while making themselves comfortable beside the small space next to the sleeping child. As soon as Artyom had lain down he was proved wrong with his assumption that his son had been sleeping. Porthos immediately came closer and hugged him as firmly as he could.No words were needed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Reaching Polis had been like a dream for Artyom. He couldn‘t remember much of passing the gate or anything particular. Only as they stood in Miller‘s office, right before his desk, Artyom started to hear sounds properly again and seeing things not in a blurr, but as clear as day. And for the first time since his psychic episode he lost the fear of being confronted by Anna. She wouldn‘t dare to speak about it now, not in front of her father, who already tried to find anything that would prove that Artyom was unworthy of her.Miller sat in his wheelchair and looked rather pale and kinda skinny compared to the last time they‘ve seen each other. To be fair, the man had stopped being a Ranger on duty since the war of D6 and without the everyday workout it was understandable. And Artyom was pretty sure that Miller must be in constant pain. His moveless legs hurt, he sure as hell had to deal with decubitus. Mostly on his sacral bone he guessed. With that the idiom „pain in the ass“ got an entirely new meaning regarding his superior.Artyom knew a little bit about the medical care of decubitus, they had an old lady in Exhibition who had been way too old and weak to walk, so she had stayed in bed for her last months of life. Her skin had become so fragile, it had ripped open by the slightest touch, so she got those bedsore wounds pretty much everywhere. The last one, a rather deep wound that almost reached the bone structure been behind her ear! He would‘ve never guessed before that one could get a decubitus there.“Artyom.““Miller.“Acknowledging each other they concentrated their attention on the smallest of this family meeting. Porthos was nervous and intimated by this grumpy old man. He could feel the disappointment that man had for his father and it irritated him. Why was his grandfather not pleased with his daddy? Artyom could tell what was bothering his son the moment he looked at him, so he gave his best not to show much of his own uneasiness. He didn‘t want to make it even more complicated for his son to bond with the grandfather he now saw for the first time since he was born.“So,...you‘re Porthos.““...Right. And you must be Miller. The father of my mother.“Miller watched his grandson in awe. Anna had told him before in one of her short visits to report from a mission that her son was...special. But up until now he had thought that it was that kind of “special“ that all newly parents would describe their offspring. Well, now he knew how wrong that assumption had been.“Anna, how old is he again?““Nearly 4 years old.““That‘s extraordinary!“Miller turned to Porthos again.“You‘re quite eloquent for your age, young man.““I‘m informed that I‘m not that different from my daddy when he was at my age, sir.“Miller lifted an eyebrow at that statement, but didn‘t ask any further. Anna meanwhile felt a slight sting in her chest. Her son was really dry with her father. Something was odd here, but she wouldn‘t dare to start their reunion with a discussion about courtesy. The old man coughed slightly, another sign that he wasn‘t in good shape. He wheeled to the door.“I would have preferred it if you could have at least some time to rest, but to be honest, the negotiations already started.“Anna and Artyom exchanged a surprised look.“But, father, it should have been at least several more days until the first meetings! I don‘t understand...““Well, neither of us do. But fact is that the Reds arrived here in Polis nearly a week ago, their goal is to come to good terms with us and Hansa before the Nazis do. They would never say that aloud but I bet they‘re up shit creek to seek our alliance in this haste!“Anna looked to her husband. She immediately knew because of his brooding face that he would add something to their conversation.“...This method is rather strange for Reds. I guess you‘re right, Miller, they‘re hiding something. If they think that they have to hurry, then there is something not quite right.“Anna shrugged.“Maybe this is some after-effect of them losing the war for D6?“Miller shook his head slightly bemused.“Then why wait 3 years? ...No. That can‘t be the reason.“Artyom couldn't fight his hope growing inside him, regardless of how unwilling he was to give in to it.“...Maybe they came to the conclusion that they need to compromise?“Miller fell in broad laughter right after Artyom‘s statement. It had a taunting touch to it and Porthos didn‘t miss that slight touch to his uttermost discomfort. His little hope of Porthos gaining something like a new loved one, a new family member he could rely on was shrinking rapidly.“Jesus Christ, Artyom, don‘t tell me you really think that that could be a possibility?? Reds are way too proud and stupid for that! Those fuckers just love their ideology way too much to give a damn about the real shit.“Artyom‘s grip around Porthos got firmer.“Not every Red is a moron, Miller. It is dangerous to lump together everyone just because of past mistakes.“Miller scoffed.“You‘re emotionally compromised, boy.“Artyom suppressed his anger with every cell in his body, determined to not let his emotions affect his son.[This is a foredoomed mission, my friend.]Artyom sighed silently, with nothing escaping outwards. He could wore a mask of disinterest if he pleased. He had himself better in control, at least if you ignore the psychic episodes...The young Ranger had enough. He ignored Anna‘s and Miller‘s ongoing conversation about the conferences so far. He was too occupied with not dealing with his own mind. Zhenya always put one‘s oar in, trying to cheer him up. Trying to distract him.It took Miller 5 more minutes until he noticed the little Watcher that had been damn good at hiding behind Artyom, always managing to stay right out of sight. A talent that had allowed her to be here in the first place. Well, and Artyom's status as a „hero“ helped with it in the more precarious situations they had with Hansa guards. But there hadn‘t been much of those confrontations, to his surprise. And somehow he knew that this was not entirely on the ability of Shura to stay low. And it would definitely explain Porthos‘ constant exhaustion.Anna had a hard time explaining to her father exactly why they had brought one of those monsters directly into Polis. Artyom interrupted Miller‘s hateful words before they could do any harm.„Shura is the companion of Porthos and if you only have the slightest wish of coming to terms with your grandchild you should just accept it. There‘re at least 2 Rangers I know of that have little beasts as pets themselves, so get over it.“Miller looked kinda hurt, but he accepted his advice astonishingly. Maybe because he cared more for his role as a grandparent then Artyom had initially expected him to be. Well, how would he know? They weren‘t exactly friends. Miller didn‘t talk much about private matters in general. He did not work, he was his work.[Like father like daughter, it seems...]Artyom had to bite hard into his cheek to stop himself from answering aloud. Zhenya snickered while Artyom rested his head slightly against his sons to settle, inhaling his sweet scent and allowing himself to savor the warmth it caused.As long as he had Porthos, he wouldn‘t lose his sanity, that was for sure. His son was his anchor in this shithole of a life. Peacefully sitting on the ground with Porthos and Shura sleeping beside him he glanced over to Anna talking with some of their comrades. She was in her element, that was for sure. He was also interested in hearing their stories, in exchanging one‘s missions. But he hadn‘t accompanied in any and he wasn‘t about to leave Porthos just so he could stand over there and hear everything more properly.Shura purred in her sleep and rolled on her back with bent legs. He smiled slightly. It looked adorable. Crawling the little creature he reread the page from his book. He had been tired enough that he had read the page without proceeding any of it‘s content.Miller had kept them occupied far into the night, they only had less than 3 hours sleep before they had to be in Miller‘s office again. Discussing the terms they thought necessary to make an alliance possible. And Rusakov and Miller didn‘t agree on much to be honest. Both were intimidating personalities, both accustomed to be followed.It was exhausting to maneuver their discussions back on track. Every fucking time they drift off and started to insult each other he had to intervene.Sighing he leaned back. At least now they had some hours of freedom before it probably started all over again.“Hey, my new comrades!“In an instant Artyom‘s blood run cold and he broke out a cold sweat. His heart was in his mouth, not being able to comprehend a single thought.Anna and the Rangers visibly stiffened by the appearance of the group of Red Soldiers. But Artyom had no eyes for those strangers. Just Pavel. He stood there, barely 30 feet away from him, looking just like he did back then. Well, he had a new scar on his face, a thin one, right under the big one. And he had dark circles under his eyes, revealing so much to Artyom. More than any other person would presumably get from it.He saw everything. And nothing. Both at the same time. It was utterly confusing how his body and mind reacted. He felt ill, his heart still in a race. And his stomach felt queasy, kinda like he had to puke but still...somehow different compared to the feeling he got right before the actual puking.“What do you want, Major?“Anna folded her arms defensively. She had hoped that this particular specimen had left this world for good.“Whoa, OK, we just wanted to say hello and-“Pavel stumbled. His bright blue eyes locked with his. Artyom found it hard to remind himself to breathe. But his lungs hurt. Everything hurt so much and still he felt relieved. He was so glad Pavel made it back to the Metro! All the time he had not dared to actually hope to see him ever again, to find out about his well-being.“...Nu, shto-… (Well, what-...) Fuck, Artyomich, I-I‘m… I don‘t...“He sighed. Scratching his neck nervously, painfully aware of the strange glares he got from his companions. For a second he seemed to be in conflict with himself."Blin, ‘don‘t care!“With that muttering he suddenly moved forward, almost crushing to the ground right before Artyom, his knees hitting the hard stone with an ugly sound, but he didn‘t even flinch and before Artyom could say knife he was hold in a stiff hug. Pavel motioned quickly away but remained kneeling barely a couple of inches from Artyom, smiling charismatic and kinda pathetic at the same time.All in all it was a really awkward situation. But it was so authentic, it was a strong flickering of their presumed dead friendship. It had been awkwardly intense and with a kinda unlogical and unhealthy interdependence.He loved every inch of that stupid bond they shared. Regardless of all the shit that happened. Artyom couldn‘t pretend like he hated that man. He had been furious, yes. And he was still hurt, mad and utterly disappointed.But he couldn‘t help the urge to smile, he hold himself back as much as he could. If he wouldn‘t restrain himself at least to an extent, he would fling his arms around Pavel‘s neck like the helpless idiot he certainly was.At least he managed to downplay his turmoiling feelings a little bit.“Artyomich...“Artyom shivered slightly. It was torture to hear his voice. He had longed to hear it for so long, he had damned Pavel for it. And now he was helpless. He would gain his focus back, he knew. As soon as the turmoil in his gut had settled he would find reason again. Well. Hopefully...Shrugging he tried to wear a more fitting facial expression. One of a little more distance. Of professionalism.“Well… What do you want, Pavel?“Oh god, why did his question sound so odd? Blood surged to his face. Pavel seemed to feel similar. He scratched his neck again, laughing nervously.“Yo-moyo... We‘re here for the same reasons. Making...peace.“Pavel had difficulties saying that last word and it made Artyom's stomach twist painfully. Pavel was a good liar but for some reasons this little pause, the slightly different nuance in his voice. Artyom knew that he was not saying everything. Maybe he wasn‘t lying entirely, but there was more with that reason then what meets the eye. Miller was right. Something was definitely odd and his heart ached with that realisation.Again on different sides. It will happen all over again… He gulped. His body felt heavy. His ears whooshed unpleasantly.“Daddy, is this your best friend you‘ve dre…-ehm, talked about?“And in this moment Artyom thanked his son for enough insight to not say “dreamed“ like he sure as hell had intended to at the beginning. But he managed to change it. Artyom sighed, trying to get rid of some of his tension.„Yes, honey. This is Pavel.“Pavel blinked, first seconds passed by without anyone saying a word. Pavel studied the little boy next to Artyom. He hadn‘t noticed him before. Dark little locks, bright green eyes. His fathers son indeed, he thought and he couldn‘t help the smile escaping his lips, even while he felt an ache he wouldn‘t dare to name.„TAk sebe (So-so), as I see it, I‘m at a disadvantage here.“Porthos stood up and held his hand to Pavel. He took it, with a confused look on his face.„I‘m Porthos, it‘s nice to finally meet you.“Pavel‘s eyes went wide. His heart skipped a beat. „You...“He was speechless.-„Major, we need to report to General Moskvin…“„Y-yeah, right.“He looked again at Porthos, then at Artyom. It was a strange glare Artyom got from Pavel, it made him shiver and feel hot and cold at the same time. And then Artyom felt a firm clap on his shoulder that somehow didn‘t feel entirely right. It was too distant. Too much space between them.„Do vstrEchi (See you soon),... D'Artagnan.“He stood up and turned. Leaving Artyom and his son behind on the ground. There lingered a promise in those small words. A promise that felt so wrong and right all alike.Porthos leaned himself on his father, trying to ease the turmoil inside him. Not sure what he should think about this Pavel. But somehow he liked him and he feared for the wrath he sensed to his left. His mother looking at that strange man leaving like she was about to smash him to pieces. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The talks went on for ages and Artyom found himself getting more and more annoyed. Hansa had proved themselves to be extremely stubborn. Well, it shouldn’t surprise him after his experiences with them back in Paveletskaya -and that was just one example. But it was a fitting one, regarding the fact that he had spotted a face in the crowd he knew from this very station, just from the early beginnings of his journey to Polis.As soon as there was a little break he hurried over to the man. He was immediately recognized.“Oh my, I‘ve never thought I would ever see you again!“Artyom shrugged.“Me too.“The other man didn‘t seem to hold a grudge because Artyom had escaped their one year term of shovelling manure on his own and kinda left him there. It was odd. Wouldn‘t a sane man be angry about that? He couldn‘t tell what was on Mark’s mind. It was unnerving. And Mark seemed to be at a loss of words, too. It started to get awkward.Anna came over and seemed to be in a disturbingly good mood. Only God knew why.“The negotiations are really dry ones, don‘t you think?“Those words seemed to be directed towards both of them. Mark shrugged slightly.“Well, didn‘t expect anything different. Politics just happen to be like that.“Anna sighed.“Yeah, it‘s a pity. I prefer a plain battlefield. At least there I don‘t have to be wary of what to say to whom just so I won‘t offend anyone. It‘s utterly devastating!“Mark laughed.“Lady, you‘re one of a kind!”Anna smiled flattered and fidgeted on her sleeve. Artyom found that reaction pretty strange.[Yeah, well, she is a woman. She just doesn‘t behave that way most of the time, I suppose.]Artyom rolled his eyes at Zhen‘s comment.“Thanks, I guess. I‘m Anna by the way.““Mark. It‘s a pleasure.“After that exchange Anna glanced curious to Artyom.“How comes that you two seem to know each other?“Artyom kept silent. He wasn‘t exactly in a talkative mood. Or, to be more precise: not any more. Mark answered instead, without registering the turmoil of his acquaintance.“The last time we saw each other we hadn‘t been exactly in a good shape, to say the least...“That got Anna‘s full interest. And as if this whole conversation wasn‘t already enough of a nuisance Artyom saw Pavel standing only a few feet away from them at the bar. Last time he had seen him, like 3 minutes ago, he had been at the other end of the room talking with some Reds about whatsoever. How the fuck had he moved so fast without Artyom noticing it right away?Anna leaned closer to Artyom and after he didn‘t shy away immediately she grabbed his arm. It felt really strange. Never before had she done one of those kind of things. Physical statements of social entanglements were not his thing. And it wasn’t her way of doing things. At least he had thought that until now, but maybe she had held herself back because she knew of his distaste?With a strange high pitch in her voice, a bit with a flirtatious touch, she turned to Mark.“Not in good shape? What do you mean?“Artyom saw out of the corner of his eye that Pavel observed them. He did so pretty discreetly but Artyom knew it nevertheless.[That‘s because you‘re constantly glancing over to him, too, genius.]“Well… We lost a bet and were sentenced to clean the latrine on the Paveletskaya-Ring for a year.“Mark hadn‘t finished explaining and Anna already bubbled over with laughter, leaning heavily on Artyom while doing so. Artyom kept a straight face, said face cracked only as he registered the restrained laughter to his right from Pavel on the counter. So he was indeed eavesdropping. He was as interested in finding out more about Artyom as he was in his wish to know more about Pavel. What did he do after their...incident at the Red Square? Did he change? Did he...regret? Just a little would be enough.Pavel got some suspicious glances from his comrades because of his behaviour but eventually managed to maneuver himself out of the situation with his natural charm -because after he said something to them they seemed entirely at ease again.[Good to know some things don‘t change.]There he had to agree. Pavel’s charm was often pretty annoying, but at the same time it was what made Pavel who he was. An awkward, kinda adorable douchebag.Anna was still chuckling, she wasn’t able to suppress her amusement. It was the first time he had seen her laugh her ass off like that. On his behalf, sure, but he didn‘t mind. At least not really. The memories of Paveletskaya-Ring weren‘t exactly nice ones. He had almost lost himself there. 5 days just shovelling his ass off, carrying loads and loads of shit from one point to another. And then that incident where he tripped and had fallen right…“Our friend here managed to escape pretty early, that lucky one.“Mark chuckled.“Well, maybe not entirely lucky. He had bathed in shit to be able to escape from there. Like: Literally.“And now Mark was laughing and Artyom's face heated up. Oh, yeah, he hated that part… And he had hoped that Mark hadn’t witnessed that vital part of his escape. Anna was laughing again, she could barely stand anymore, Mark was in a pretty good mood too. And Artyom was wearing a sour look, but still with pink cheeks out of embarrassment. He wouldn‘t dare to even get a glimpse of the bar, too afraid of the expression the man there could wear. He wanted to be able to think that maybe Pavel overheard that part so he would be spared the humiliation of knowing that Pavel knew about his not so glorious escape from a stupid bet.“I swear no guard wanted to stand in his way! No wonder he could just walk right through the gates! -What makes me wonder… How were you even able to get rid of it?“Artyom shifted uncomfortable.“Well… I got to a monastery of sorts and...yeah. They helped me. And talked my ear off about their worshipping. I had to wear a really ugly robe. And they wanted me to join them. It was ridiculous.“Anna seemed surprised.“I didn‘t expect that.““What exactly?““I would‘ve sworn that you came straight from Exhibition to Polis without experiencing so much.“Now it was Artyom‘s turn to laugh albeit just slightly and without much humor. He was so kind and fought the impulse off to snap at her for how she had acted on their first mission together.“Well, you would‘ve lost the bet, Anna, that's for sure. I was captured by nearly everything in the Metro by now, I suppose. ...Seriously, I don‘t think there is much left. -You ever heard about the savage cannibals of the Great Worm Cult?““Eh. Yeah. Not much. Why do you- oh. Don't tell me...“She halted. Looking at him with disbelieve. Artyom shrugged.“In Kievskaya I met my friend Anton and his son Oleg and learned that many residents of the station went missing, mostly children. Oleg disappeared too so Anton and I went searching for him.“Anna gave him a wry look.“Artyom playing the hero. Again. -Tell me, did you ever just walk away and let those people mind their own business?“The words were harsh but fondly spoken, so Artyom gave his best to just ignore it. He didn‘t want to argue again with Anna and he knew that he made everything even more difficult for her. Mark frowned.“Did you found the child?““Well, yes. In Park Pobedy. But we were captured by those cannibals. Miller and the others rescued us though.““And the child was okay?“Artyom closed his eyes for a short time, but the pictures went only more vividly without his brain getting other visual information. He sighed.“He survived that incident, yes, but he died later while we were on our way to D-6… That biomass under the Kremlin killed him.“Anna‘s eyes went wide.“Wait a moment. You mean that that Anton from your story is our Stalker Anton? The bitter one that always takes the missions that none else wants just so he can go alone?“Artyom just looked at her. His face was indication enough.“Jesus! I would‘ve never guessed that that was what had happened to him! But that explains why he was always so resentful of my father…““Not only of him. Everyone of us got a portion of that… But Miller got the biggest portion, I suppose. He hadn't been emphatic about Anton's loss.““The mission always goes first.“Artyom rolled his eyes. But he knew of the truth in this statement.“...Right.“[And that‘s exactly why some of the Rangers aren‘t too happy about him keeping his job. Why should they be emphatic for him if he never was for them? What makes him special that he should be treated differently?]Artyom frowned. He hadn‘t paid much attention to the Order and their problems. In fact he had been really happy to not have been bothered by any of it. And he couldn‘t quite get why he was in this whole mess all over again. Something went terribly wrong. But his talk with those strange ghosts or whatever those men had been, haunted him."It may happen something to you that forces you to perform specific actions and make specific decisions, keeping in mind you have free will, and you can do this or that. But if you make the right decision, then the things that happen to you are no longer just random events" Those men in this mysterious tunnel he had been in got stuck in his head. His actions were still strongly affected by them. Maybe he should treat this whole mess similar to his past experiences in the Metro. His road wasn't over... He glanced over to Pavel. Green meets blue. Pavel smiled slightly. Artyom gulped and looked aside quickly.[Maybe that road of yours is just about to turn from a straight line into a kinda forked one? Maybe this here is all about choices. About recommencements.] "A recommencement..."His murmur got him some strange looks. He rolled his eyes. He hated those looks but no matter what, he gained them in a constant manner. And the blame was all on his own."What is going on in your head, Artyom?"Anna watched him. Carefully. Like observing a battlefield with her sniper-sight. For a second he thought her eyes went to the bar, but it was too fast to be sure of it. But not too fast to not gain a bad feeling about it.-"Ehrm, e-excuse me, Sir? May I interrupt?"One of the new recruits stood there, an utterly nervous one, and definitely not more than 20 years old. No. He must be even younger... Artyom couldn't deal with this kind of admiration. Really, he was at a loss there. But he tried to be polite and managed to wear a hopefully decent enough smile."Don't be so formal, recruit. Name's Artyom."The young recruit got pale."I-I'm sorry, but I..."He gulped. Hard."I can't do that. I just can't. I can't address the savior of my father so disrespectfully.""The what?"Mark blinked confused. And the boy tried to explain himself."This man found mercy for my father where none would have. Not even myself. He had been a lost cause for me. Being with the Nazis and all...""Your old man is a Nazi??"Anna couldn't believe that he was allowed to be a recruit with that family history. This was...just unbelievable! How could her father authorize that?The young man rubbed his arm, apparently feeling really queasy. Artyom tried to steady himself more. Anna had a murderous gaze. No wonder the recruit was reacting that way. Laying a hand assertively on her shoulder he gave the boy a supportive smile to continue."Well, yes, he was one. ..He had been based at Black Station around 5 years ago."Artyom's face immediately darkened. That had been quite the hellhole... And the Nazi soldiers there had been tasked with wiping out Hole Station, which had been full of innocent people. And as far as he knew they had succeeded."It is not a noble act to have mercy on a killer, boy."Mark had an unreadable face while speaking. Artyom frowned."Not all those who follow false ideologies are truly bad people, Mark. I have eavesdropped many of those Nazi's in my travels. Nearly half of them followed just because of their need to protect their families. To be able to feed them.""Yeah, but they could've chosen otherwise. There is always a choice, Artyom!""Of course there is. But sometimes all options selectable are just crap. And don't tell me those situations don't exist, because they do. Hell, I had way too many of those myself by now, I've lost count."The boy had to snort in amusement, but he tried his best to hide it. Anna shook her head, trying not to judge her husband's opinions by changing the topic, to get to the point so they'll be able to leave this conversation with at least some content."So, recruit, what is the reason for your show up? I suppose you came not all the way just to thank our visionary over there?""Uh, well... Vladimir sent me. He said I should inform you that your son wants to see you. The boy seemed pretty upset about something."Immediately Artyom flashed into action. Nearly growling he had to suppress his need to just grab the boy at his sleeve and push him against the nearest wall possible."Next time my son send word that he needs me you say so immediately, understood?"There was not even a glimpse of the warmth in his voice from before and the recruit nodded intimidated."Understood. -And...my apologies."Artyom sighed deeply, putting his anger forcefully aside."Alright. Let's go."-"But the conference is about to continue any minute! You cannot be seriously considering to leave now!"Anna crossed her arms. But Artyom was not an inch daunted."I couldn't care less.""You can't just walk away like that, Artyom! For once, think!""Well, isn't that funny? You call me a 'clouded visionary' all the time while talking like this conference here will archive anything even remotely meaningful?"Anna opened her mouth. Closed it again. She was speechless. She couldn't believe what just had happened. And he meant it. He turned and left. Just like that. And without looking back. Or waiting a bit to give her a chance to answer. As if he didn't care. For anything. That he had been totally rude to those men that attempted these talks, to the young recruit -and above all to her as his wife.They were in a political dilemma and he talked like that to her out in the open? Furious she closed her eyes. Counted to 10. Then to 20. -God, she had married a full-blown imbecile! ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Anna and Artyom stood in a crowd, waiting for the outcome of the private gathering of Miller, Rusakov and Moskvin. It seemed to be the last hope of gaining some sort of conformity. It was hard to believe that that would accomplish anything useful…Artyom looked to his side where Anna stood. She hadn’t been there most of the night and to his surprise he was just shocked that he sincerely don't mind. To be honest he had appreciated the serenity the evening without her had provided him.They hadn’t talked since yesterday's incident and even after Anna came back early in the morning they have avoided each other as best as possible.But now that they had to stand next to each other Anna could feel her anger coming up again.“...I can’t believe you left me out in the rain.”Anna waited, but the accused stood silent. His face nearly blank. That made her even more furious.“You know, I thought we’d agreed to help my father out! To work together for a better future!”Artyom sighed.“Anna, please. This is not a proper environment for that kind of talk.”"Moron..." and with this she crossed her arms, looking the other way. Artyom exhaled sharply. That went as well as it could have. But he didn't have the nerves to talk with her again.Not after what Porthos had revealed him the night before and the logical consequences of that that had kept him too anxious to sleep more than half an hour.Miller was already there, standing in front of them by the podium. Secretary Moskvin entered the room with a grim look on his face. Then Rusakov followed a few moments after that. All three of them looked exhausted and extremely dissatisfied.“The talks will be recessed.”And with that their great leaders left the podium and everyone gabbled on. Artyom could feel bile in his mouth. Miller came over to them.“Well, the talks are nearly over. In my opinion it is about time we start shooting at each other. At least then we’ll start to be honest again! All those false promises, the pretending!”Alarmed Anna looked to the side. Their people could hear this! It would be disastrous for their morale to hear this shit right now.“Father, please lower your voice!”“Don’t you dare shushing me, Anna! I’m not in the mood for your foolish thoughts! And I certainly don’t care if I can be heard!”Artyom frowned.“Have you broached the subject up as I asked you to?”“We had more pressing matters to discuss than the nightmares of your boy!”That was the straw that broke the camel’s back! Furiously Artyom confronted that foolish old man.“I’ve got enough of your bullshit!”“Excuse me??”Miller looked over to him short-temperately. Artyom noticed the increased attention they got, but found that he was mad enough that he didn’t care.“I’m sick of waiting for you three to start being honest with those peace attempts!”Moskvin was immediately put into a rage.-“How dare you accuse me of being-”“Don’t fool me, Moskvin! If you are so honest, why didn’t you tell them what lingers in your tunnels and threatens to extinguish your great Red Line? The very reason you’re here at all?”Moskvin gazed at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, saying nothing. Artyom snorted. “Yeah. I figured that much...”-“Wait. Moskvin, what is the meaning of this??”Miller was perplexed and looked back and forth from Moskvin and Artyom. The Red Line leader was pale and at a loss of word.“There is no way you could've known about it!”“You bet?”Artyom knew exactly of what Moskvin thought right now. His journey inside Moskvin’s brain was a vivid memory for both of them. The old man feared him since that time. And it hadn’t changed a bit, Artyom could feel the fear coming off the old communist in waves without the need to see like a Dark One. Or maybe he did, just in his own way.“Artyom! Explain this! "Miller looked at him. Demanding.“I already told you! Before the missiles the Reds managed to take some Dark Ones as prisoners and apparently one of them went rogue and started to destroy their Stations bit by bit. And with their numbers significantly decreasing they’re in dire need of alliances…"He turned to Moskvin. "I really don’t understand your motives, Moskvin. If you would have explained us what is happening from the beginning-”-“You wouldn’t talked to me at all!”Moskvin was sweating like hell and seemed pretty desperate. Miller snorted.“Exactly! And why should we? If we wait long enough it will destroy you all. We can sit back and watch you squirm like rats. That seems a lot more reasonable and way easier!”Rusakov shook his head slightly.“Not so fast, Miller. If we would indeed wait and see until all Reds are gone, what would that thing do then? Wouldn’t it try to destroy those that killed it’s kind?”Miller sighed annoyed.“Then we’ll kill this thing! Hell, we’ve killed so many of them, we’ll get that one, too!"“You won’t.”All heads went to Artyom.“We have to disrupt that circle of killing in order to gain forgiveness from the remaining Dark Ones!" “Are you nuts?”Rusakov looked at him in disbelieve. Artyom continued in his speech, knowing that there was little hope for anyone to believe or even understand what he said.“They can help us to rebuild what we’ve lost. With their help we could one day live on the surface again!”“As if!”-“Aren’t you the one that killed them all in the first place??”Artyom closed his eyes for a moment. Oh, how much he hated his life right now... “Yes. I wanted to, because we thought that they wanted to destroy our Station… I’ve realized my mistake later, but it was too late to stop the missiles… A child of them survived though and later on that little Dark One was the reason D6 and all the people within it didn’t explode!"Rusakov shook his head in disbelieve. Again. He was at a loss.“That’s some shitshow you try to sell us, boy!”Miller tried to send Artyom discreet signals to stop talking right now. They had agreed after the battle that they would not speak of the true happenings because Miller believed that the Order would only gain the reputation of being weak. But Artyom believed in honesty.“Well, the truth is: we were about to lose the battle of D6. General Korbut was already giving us one of his nice little speeches about winning and losing and communism being great and so on -and got easily distracted with it. There was no chance of protecting D6 and its dangerous secrets from him, so Miller gave me the command to self-destruct. I followed and the only reason I’m still standing here is because the Dark Ones intervened.”“How could we believe anything you said?”“Well, you don’t have to. But if you’ve seen Miller’s reactions to my tale right now you may be convinced. Or you still don't. I honestly don’t care, because everything you all care about are simple solutions without much thinking. Kill or spare. Help or deny. Ranger or Hansa. Red or Nazi. Evil or Good. Black or White... Most of you think in boxes, too afraid to question anything. I’m not like that. At least not anymore. I changed. You could too. And that’s the only reason we were spared by the Dark Ones. We have potential to be better."All was silent. Artyom shivered slightly.“And despite our history and your pessimistic expectations, Secretary Moskvin, I’ll offer my help. Not as a Ranger of the Order maybe, but as the only human being that was adopted by the Dark Ones. I’ll find the One and stop the massacring.”“And if I don’t want it?”Artyom shrugged.“It would complicate my mission needlessly, but that won’t stop me. I owe it to them.”“...And what makes you so sure of leaving this place in one piece?”“Because you would be really stupid if you would harm me? I’m your only connection to the Dark Ones.”“What makes you so special?”There it was. The question he had asked himself endlessly.“...I sincerely don’t know.”About to leave he was stopped by Rusakov.“Boy, wait.”Said one stood silently. Waiting calmly.“Well, I really don’t know if I believe everything you say, but regardless you’ve accomplished many things that I deemed being not possible. You’ve infiltrated the Nazis with ease and despite your lack of pride I know from many sources how determined you traveled through the Metro to stop the war. To stop that maniac Korbut. Whatever and whoever tried to stand in your way or captured you, they didn’t stand a chance, because you always miraculously reached your goal one way or another... I’m a man of reason, yes, and that's exactly why it would be irresponsible as my role as president if I wouldn't offer some form of help."He paused, looking thoughtfully at Artyom before continuing. "I'll give you one of my best men to accompany you and you'll be equipped with everything you need. Just...Just be sure to stop that creature from reaching our borders."Miller sighed rather annoyed. He felt like he was now forced to stand behind Artyom, because that fool acted as one of his Rangers. His reputation would decrease definitely if he would stay silent, now that Rusakov was behind the boy he had to be supportive in some way. "I'll give you official permission to leave... Just get the hell out of here."His voice lacked the venom it would need to be taken as a seriously harmful statement. Miller seemed to be exhausted from the political affairs so far and he sure as hell was just happy that one great nuisance would be out of Station for who knows how long. If that idiot would make it back at all.With despair Artyom thought of his son. It would be so hard to leave him, because he had promised that Porthos could stay with him, that he would not leave the boy alone...That would definitely be the worst sacrifice he ever had to make...Moskvin was in awe and somehow almost relieved that this cursed Ranger stepped in for him. He certainly didn't like him, but he couldn't deny how successful he had been before. Relying on him was really his best shot. "Well, I didn't expect that attitude...Of course mostly out of self-preservation, but still. It is more than I had ever thought could happen."Rusakov grimaced."Maybe that was necessary to get us to work together."Miller just grunted. The meaning behind that was rather dubious, one could only speculate how to interpret it. But either way Moskvin was delighted."I, of course, will also choose one of my own to accompany you to guarantee your success."Artyom tried not to grimace. He really wasn't fond of being accompanied by strangers. And although all that talking was in some way important he couldn't stop spacing out for some moments. He started to blink rapidly as his blurred vision caught a familiar face."Major Morozov volunteered for that essential mission. Do not disappoint me, Major! ....There won't be another chance."Rusakov was talking with his initiate, while Miller was arguing with Anna in a low voice, but Artyom saw her fierce face and sensed that she disagreed with something. She certainly wanted to participate. And Miller sure as hell wouldn't allow it -somehow or other it was loud enough that Moskvin's silent threat to Pavel wasn't getting any attention. Artyom had Anna's voice in his head "Tell me, did you ever just walk away and let those people mind their own business?" while he was already approaching the secretary. "Since you don't have a straight record of success yourself, you sure won't judge others, right? Like the generous and fearless communist you are?"He didn't manage to keep his mockery completely out of his voice. But he sincerely didn't try hard enough. Moskvin's brows curled and his eyes got a dark glint, but surprisingly he managed to keep his inner turmoil at bay and straightened his composure."Of course.""Excellent."And with this Artyom ignored the so called "leader" of the "great communism" and addressed Rusakov directly."President Rusakov, Miller. I intend to leave Polis as soon as possible, but first of all I've got to settle a private matter of mine.""Of course. In the meantime I'll task my men with gathering the needed supplies.""Time and place will be communicated shortly."Nodding Artyom excused himself and went straight to his tent, being shortly followed by Anna.[That should be fun...]Artyom sighed deeply. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- With every step Artyom‘s heart ached. Porthos just looked at him and he knew. He just knew what his father dealt with. What he had to do. Arytom doesn't have to talk about it at all and he was relieved. Because there were no words to describe his regret. Smiling regretful his son threw himself right at him, nudging his face in his jacket. The boy was clinging on his clothes like he wanted to crawl inside his father. Shura whined lowly, leaning slightly on Artyom‘s left leg. She wanted to be a part of this too.They just stood like that for as long as they could. Anna watched them with an ache inside her. It hurt. She was the one that should go. She was replaceable, but not Artyom. Without him their son would lose everything.“...Artyom? It is about time...“She hated to break the silence but it was necessary. Postponing never made anything any easier.With a throaty voice he agreed monosyllabically and lifted Porthos up. Together they collected a few things he would take with him. Well, in fact it was just his diary. And maybe he would take one of the three books he currently read with him: The Rise & Fall of Communism, The foundations of Leninism and The Communist Manifesto… He took the first one, putting the other two back on the somehow ancient looking table of them.Anna fought the sour taste in her mouth back and concentrated on the ring on her finger, because what else should she do? She sighed deeply concerned while fidgeting with the silver ring. Should they discuss this specific matter? There was no meaning in those two rings anymore and they both knew it. Maybe they won’t get another chance to speak about it. But she wasn’t sure about it.Even on their way to the meeting place -the gate to the tunnel that lead straight to Teatralnaya they were silent. Anna was too unsure of what to say and her husband and son seemed both to like the lack of words... In the distance they could already see that everyone was there. The common folk weren’t allowed to participate and Artyom was thankful for that. To his surprise there weren’t just the two representatives from the Red Line and Hansa.“Danila?”The young man smiled.“Miller sent me. I’ll accompany you.”Artyom nodded as a form of acceptance, because somehow he felt overwhelmed by the realisation that Pavel was just standing there and watching him interacting with Danila. And he realized just now that he'll have to deal with the Red on a constant basis. He wouldn’t be able to ignore him. At least not for very long. They'll have to work together. Even worse, he had to pretend that nothing happened between them to make that happen. How was he supposed to survive that?“Portoschka...“, Artyom began, but even as he started to speak he knew that he was at a loss of words. He was really bad at goodbyes. His son took Artyom's face in his little hands and smiled.“I already know, daddy. I told you about my dream for this very reason... I knew you'll have to leave me. But you'll come back. That I know for sure, too. I'm not scared. I can wait.“It was hard not to lose his shit right now. Blinking tears away Artyom hugged his son as tight as he thought his son could manage."I love you so much!"Porthos giggled."I love you, too."Smiling he let go of Artyom, taking the few steps back to his mother, standing next to her while petting Shura. Anna and Artyom just shared a look."Stay safe."Artyom nodded barely visible and turned away from his family, entering the tunnel without looking back. His companions quickly caught up.It felt strange to walk straight into the tunnels of the Reds, not feeling like someone will ambush them in any minute, and understandably he was feeling that way nearly any second that passed -while avoiding any memories regarding his last "visit" of the Teatre...While Artyom wouldn't mind the silence that crept around them he knew that he had at least two with him that liked to talk -a lot. And as if they had heard his thoughts Danila started chatting."I'm pretty sure we weren't introduced to one another properly... I'm afraid I only know Artyom so far."The representative from Hansa immediately responded."Name's Nikolai. Nearly 10 years of service on Oktjabeskaya. Before the bombs I was a doctor-in-training and had just visited my relatives -right before the whole shit started. It was a mess..."Danila shrugged."I hardly remember anything from it."The Hansa-representative smirked."You must've been no more than a little child, don't you? No wonder you don't remember much.""...As the bombs fell I had been at the market with my old man... Blin, really don't know anymore how that place were called, not even where it lies. Somewhere above the Sokolniki I believe... All hell was let loose. Those bastards stamped a kid I had known nearly to death...", he coughed, somehow feeling too exposed. "Not really a fond memory of mine, eh?""And you are?", Danila was looking at the Red like he had to hold back to not jump at the man with a knife in his hand. After the battle of D6 the tension regarding the Red Line was rather tight."Major Pavel Igorevich Morozov, pleased to meet you, priyatel!"Danila frowned, examining Pavel for the first time thoroughly."Aren't you that little fucker that got rescued by Artyom even though you betrayed him -a fact none of us understood not in the slightest?"Pavel gulped, scratching his neck uncomfortably. Artyom sighed."Danila, it was not like that, just shut the fuck up!""Whoa, keep cool, Artyom! It was not my intention to-""-To babble about things that are in no way your fucking business?""OK, OK, I'm sorry. Blja budu! (I swear to god!)""Good..."Artyom had enough to do by ignoring his own discomfort as best as he could... It didn't take Danila long to speak up again though and Artyom rolled his eyes, his mood sinking even more if possible. Pavel was awkwardly avoiding anyone's gaze, he felt pretty ridiculous himself and the Hansa-guy clearly wasn't sure what to say to all of this."Well, I now know that this is certainly one hell of a touchy subject, which makes me wonder... what is it between you two?"Artyom immediately came to a halt. Pavel looked shocked for a moment, before his face was clouded with some form of a cautious and well built offended look. And to Artyom's own surprise his reaction hit a nerve he didn't even knew existed."I'm not sure I can follow?""Well, you know? Messing around? ...Screw each other?""Blyakha-mukha! (Fucking hell!) I'm no fucking Peetoókh ("gay")!""Whoa, no need for strong words, my friend. It was just a question.""Yeah? I'll tell you what, Yo-o-ob tvoju matj, (Fuck your mother,) you little piece of shit!"The oldest of them shook his head quite amused and managed to get in between the two brawlers."Stop messing around with such trivia like some boys from the street and start acting like soldiers."Artyom sent a devout ejaculation up to heaven. That was indeed a promising start of their journey together."Let's just walk in silence again, please...", he muttered, quite embarrassed and clearly confused as to how they've got to that kind of topic.[And why are you so mortified? Why did his grand response hurt you? Nah. You know why. ...Do I really have to spell it out?]Artyom had to force himself to shut up, otherwise he would've answered Zhenya straight away with a charming "Get lost!"."...That reminds me, Artyom, I'm really interested in how you managed to steal Miller's daughter right under his nose?""Pardon me?"Danila gave him an eyebrow stating quite plain a "I know you know what I know". Artyom growled inwardly. Had Danila always been such a noisy companion?? He couldn't evaluate it."Danila, that had been a polite attempt to tell you to get lost..."Pouting exaggeratedly the young man smacked Artyom's shoulder which had no result at all."Man, don't be cross with me! Who had put that stick up your arse, Artyom? -Have you always been that grumpy?"Artyom sighed."Probably. I don't really care though.""Hmpf. I certainly don't remember you like that. But, well, we just had this one mission together.""The one where you got injured even before we entered the building entirely? Where you had to be dragged all the way back to HQ by Miller? Not to mention that I had to manage the librarians alone? You mean that mission?...""...I guess."Artyom rolled his eyes."Seriously how could I ever forget that?"Danila laughed nervously."Well... I suppose I made not the best impression."-"Librarians? Like in...well, more than one of them?"Pavel seemed rather horrified. Artyom shrugged."I hadn't time to count them, but they sure were a lot."Danila came in between them, making it impossible for Artyom to just talk a little bit with Pavel alone. It was frustrating yet nothing he didn't expect to happen. They would get their talk in the near future, he was sure of it. "It was kind of awesome that you managed to go on at all! I don't know if I would've been capable of that. Those things sure are scary as hell..."Danila shuddered while Artyom shrugged."No need to embellish anything, I was scared shitless... Not a week before that day I had been only on duty to guard the tunnel to Botanitscheski Sad - and that was all "field experience" I had so far.""You're kidding me?""Why should I? I was thrown in at the deep end. ...Nothing I would love to repeat but I guess it served me well enough afterwards."Nikolai was shocked. "That's one way to see it... But in my opinion it was irresponsible from Miller to send you on your own..."Artyom shrugged."I would've done it nevertheless. At that time I was in belief of losing my Station if I don't find D6 in time. I would've done anything to rescue my people. Well, I still would.""Of that I'm sure. Your past actions are proof enough... Which makes me wonder... You really expect us to not kill that thing? ...Won't it attack us the moment we reach the Theatre? -If it's still there of course...""You're only accompanying me. I don't expect that you won't defend yourselves, but I expect that you all are capable of following orders -otherwise you can turn around in an instant.""Understood."Nikolai immediately responded with determination in his voice. Danila was looking rather pissed for reasons beyond Artyom's understanding (his guessing was that he didn't like to be ordered around by someone even younger than himself) while Pavel's facial expressions were unreadable.Somehow or other none of them turned around, they all continued to follow the tunnel, surrounded with a somehow grimly atmosphere. But Artyom couldn't care less. His mission was to at least try to stop the Dark One peacefully and definitely not to eliminate by sight.[Up until now you'll always had to do the job alone at the end. No one accompanying you ever managed to stay with you until the end. So chances are high we'll lose those idiots on the road in some way or another...]Agreeing Artyom couldn't stop his instinct to look at Pavel. Feeling all kind of things he wouldn't dare to name. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Blyadj! Those little bitches ’re all over this fuckin place!”Pavel shot two nosalises dead and cut another one apart that wanted to flank him. Breathing heavily he looked around."Well, fuck, where the hell is everyone?”The half-way collapsed tunnel was empty. Above him was still that big hole from which he had fallen. Swearing to himself (again...) he examined his arm, still expecting a next attack.“Those creatures sure as hell ‘ve sharp teeth...”It was bleeding pretty bad, but the bite was not as deep as one would guess by looking at the amount of fluids he was losing.“Damn those little monsters!”With putting a little piece of cloth tightly around the wound he tried to lighten up his dark surroundings more. He had to find some way to find his group again because there was no way Artyom would send someone for him. Not after their troubled history…He sighed deeply. Those three bastards didn’t even try to contact him after the ground crashed down beneath him. And that surely wasn’t just because of the beasts they maybe didn’t want to disturb any further. So that could only mean that he had been left for good...His body hurt, it was a sharp pain piercing through his chest. He knew the cause of this, but intended not to evaluate it any further. He knew it wouldn’t do him good. He had already lost enough of his former certainty. And certainty was everything. It kept him going. Gave him a purpose. And since Artyom happened that all was about to fall apart to little fucking pieces!Angry at himself, at everything that ever happened, he started to walk in the direction he guessed was the one the rest of the group would follow. He walked for a while in complete silence that gave him the creeps. That bad feeling in his gut just got worse. Not till he heard unfamiliar voices in the distance he started to act on it. Sneaking slowly closer he started to hear those men more properly -and his heart skipped a beat as he was able to see them, standing beside a torch that illuminated their uniforms.It was a strange mixture of feelings he possessed discovering that they were from Red Line. Not seeing any sense in hiding any more he exited the shadows with a well guarded straight face while approaching.“Ah, Major! We feared the worst the moment we heard the tunnel collapsing! Good to see you still alive and kickin’!”Smiling he waved aside.“Nah, I’m not that easy to kill. -Back to business, priyatel, what the hell ‘re you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”“Yeah, well… About that...”His subordinates were looking at him kinda strange. Like they feared him to know the answer, or, even worse, as if they suspected him somehow to react in some inappropriate way... Well, he was someone that liked to pinpoint certain things but now he could not ignore his concerns any longer. There were more and more facts just bouncing right before his head that Artyom -that his whole party- had been captured. That this most likely had been Moskvin’s plan all along…He gritted his teeth, realized his mistake in the same moment and forced his body to relax again. Smiling, to ease off any doubts the men could probably held, he crossed his arms in a demanding manner.“What is the meaning of your babbling?”“...To put in bluntly: the Secretary wasn’t so sure where your loyalty lies, so he forgot to mention that he wishes the Ranger to be captured for further interrogation.”Pavel was almost about to laugh at them. It seemed so fucking unbelievable that they would actually hold Artyom captive for more than a few hours, maybe days at top. That boy of his was after all as obstinate as a mule and way too strong-minded to be intimidated by most of things any more. After General Korbut’s way of interrogation -which he had been able to execute solely because Pavel had made it possible... He had used their friendship to achieve a goal Korbut said was needed to achieve what they all fought for so desperately… But in the end it had only been for gaining power and destroying the Order. At least that was what it felt like afterwards. He had no idea what Korbut thought. That man had always been good at deceiving others and never been fond of him to begin with…“...Major?”He spaced out too long to paper over the cracks.“Don’t we have more urgent matters to worry about? Where is this thing now exactly? I’ve seen it destroying our forces at Red Square, so it sure as hell wasn’t just some telltale to lure the Ranger into our territory.”“We were able to hold it in place at Ljubljanka, Major, but we surely won’t be able to hold it there forever.”“...So Moskvin wants to deliver the Ranger straight to it, hoping that it’s rage will be sated with eliminating the one responsible for killing it’s comrades, I guess?”, he felt like getting sick while talking. “Of course.”Pavel growled slightly. He couldn’t stop himself.“But Artyom said that he would deal with that matter! Why capturing him beforehand? Why destroying everything from the very beginning? I don’t get it…”The slightly taller man shrugged.“We’ll definitely lose the possibility of gaining some common ground with the other fractions, that's for sure. Personal revenge is a fucked up way and shows just how honorable our dear Secretary is, but that’s just me saying.”“Eduard, we shouldn't talk like that. It will only get us in trouble...”, the soldier sighed defeated, “But I’ll have to admit…I fear for our cause, too. It feels like that path of blind cruelty just starts all over again. Major, what do you think of all this shit? Don't you find it hard these days to stay loyal to those in power? Don't misunderstand me, I am 100% loyal to our cause, I just...”He was at a loss of words. Pavel sighed."I understand."He had to press those words out of gritted teeth, but they were true. He felt just as helpless as those soldiers before him."...Maybe the Resistance is the better option these days?""Yeah, well, I would've never thought to say this ever, but maybe they are indeed. At least that young lad Leonid seems to be a sane boy, it is said that he distaste violence strongly. Maybe that is exactly what we need. A fresh wind. I could really use some peaceful years these days..."Pavel could not elaborate how to feel hearing those treasonous words. It was disturbing that he did not act immediately. He tried to focus and shoved his conflicted feelings aside."Do you know where the Ranger and his companions are?""No idea. Ivan and the others did not report back yet. They 're late, but we have strict orders. In about 30 minutes we're to report to Michail and his men.""Where are Ivan and the rest stationed?""Right above us, well, maybe a little bit down the tunnel where you've come from. We were just stationed here to see how Ivan's "surprise" up there turns out, you know?"The urgency of time raised Pavel's blood pressure. "I'll have to go there."The two soldiers exchanged a look."Major, why are you so eager to go up there?""Excuse me?""I mean no disrespect, sir, but if they are indeed captured, what will you do?"Pavel felt trapped. Yeah. What would he do? What was the meaning in going up there in the first place?"That's my affair.""...You can use the lever on the right side of the tunnel. Behind that broken pillar.""...Thanks."And with it he was one with the shadows again. As he arrived the camp of the so called "Ivan and Co" was...well, surprisingly silent and the cause of it was alarmingly relieving. Ten men were lying on the ground and except for one they were all just knocked out. He knew immediately that Artyom had been here. He was sure of it. And by the blood on the chest of the dead one he knew that they couldn't be gone for long. The body fluids were still warm.A sound echoed from the tunnel and let Pavel freeze in an instant. Nosalises. But what provoked them? Silently going further into the tunnel he ran his fingers along the mildly wet wall. His flashlight was not the brightest idea right now. He'll manage with what little light the tunnel provided in hope to be at an advantage. Chances weren't high, sure, but it was worth a shot.The moment he heard gunshots he hurried further inside. Voices echoed along the walls and as soon as he heard Artyom he exhaled a breath he didn't realized to hold. Without hesitation he throw himself against nosalises that attacked his Ranger. Artyom was flanked from all sides from those monsters, as if they hated him for some reasons more than the others."Pavel?"His face was full of astonishment."How the hell did you find us? We were looking for you everywhere in this damn tunnel!"He seemed to be on the verge of punching him. Fortunately he had a hand full of nosalises to deflect his anger."Nu, don't be a sissy, Artyomich! I was looking for you too, you know? ...Maybe we missed each other at some point?"The younger man mumbled under his breath."Maybe. Just be more careful next time.", he said while shooting one beast behind Pavel straight through the head. His capability with a gun was undeniable genius. He was amazed every fucking time that boy of his did something like that as if it was no deal at all. Just unbelievable! He couldn't hide his big grin and, more importantly, he didn't want to. Because Artyom was safe, he would not use the knowledge he got to hurt. Never. Because Artyom was a good person. One of a kind."Don't tell me you were worried, Artyomich!"It was meant as something as a joke, at least he tried to cloak it as that because he truly didn't know why he said it, but Artyom just gave him the strangest of all looks. It sent goosebumps all over his body. Did he misunderstood his response for a flirtation? Oh god, he got it all wrong!"Blin, I-"He was cut short by one of the monsters knocking him over and pinning him on the ground, it's ugly teeth inches away from his face while he fought it off with as much strength he could muster. And of course he managed to lose his gun while falling... One could get the impression that he was a fucking greenhorn!"Blyakha! (Fuck!) Get off me you bitch!"With some precise shots that massive monster was stopped in attacking him. It collapsed pressing the air out of his lungs with its fall. But the moment Pavel thought he had to puke the weight disappeared, allowing him to suck his breaths in. The others had pulled that beast off of him. Drafting himself up he coughed, not able to hide the smile that this near-death-experience forced out of him. It was typical for him by now to nearly die. Some sort of bad habit he caught on his journey with Artyom."Phooh, of course the one monster collapsing above me had to be the chubbiest beast of them all! -That's just my fucking luck, eh?"And as always his coping mechanism was humor. But Artyom wasn't fond of joining in. He seemed rather furious for some reason."Pavel, seriously! Don't you think that you had enough near-death experiences by now? I swear if you dare to die before me, I'll drag you out of the hands of those Lost Souls yet again just to beat the shit out of you!"Danila smiled mischievously but one look of Artyom and he swallowed whatever he was about to say. The grin on his face stayed though. And this strange spark in his eyes while watching Pavel raised hackles all over said one. The Major gulped. What was going on here? Sighing Artyom ripped his knife out of the head of one of the monsters and wiped the blood away with a little piece of cloth. His face full of disgust."I suppose this welcome party from the Reds was just a misunderstanding?"Pavel fidgeted with his gloves, somehow unable to meet Artyom's gaze."Well, I spoke to some soldiers in the tunnel below us, well maybe just slightly diagonal to this one here... Blin, don't know exactly. -Nevertheless, I'm actually pretty sure I wasn't told a thing about the Secretary's real motives."With a surprised look Artyom eyeballed him, his distrust clearly visible. Pavel missed the look on his face where he had trusted him with so much innocence in his eyes and open affection. There had been some real special bond of friendship between them and he'll be damned if he won't be able to see that again someday! Maybe not today or tomorrow or the day after that. But he definitely would gain Artyom's trust again! Somehow...Artyom continued to speak."We'll have to be smart about our next move. This camp surely won't be the only one. And on top of that we cannot be sure that the Dark One really is there where Moskvin said he would be..."Pavel met his gaze."Well, about that... As far as those men were informed that "Dark One" is currently held somewhere in Ljubljanka, but nothing that holds it off permanently from getting away.""Okay... Breaking in won't be easy...But maybe-""-With all due respect, Artyom, you can't possibly consider to break into Ljubljanka! No sane man would even consider it!""With all due respect, Danila, you can leave at any time!""Artyom, please, be smart about this! Why do you even believe this traitor? He lied to you before, he'll do so again!"Artyom's gaze went to Pavel. Pavel did his best to hold the eye contact. Artyom smiled mildly. That smile had some sort of deep tiredness in it that gave Pavel a solid stomachache."He is telling the truth.""Yeah, right. Of course... You know what? Fuck this shit! You're emotionally compromised and I won't die for a bydlo* and his fucked up lyubimaya! (Darling/ sweetheart/love)"Artyom inhaled with a blank expression that froze one's blood."Do as you please. I'll reach my goal -with or without your sorry existence. Go back to Miller and prepare for some serious conversation the moment I get back."Gulping, but too proud to show that these words had a rather strong effect, he held his head high while walking back from where they'd come. The bold laughter from the old Hansa-soldier echoed through the entire tunnel."What a day!"His laugh was contagious enough that even Artyom had to chuckle, at least a bit."Well, believe me, Artyom, I had to deal with a comrade like this too. I had just begun my service and..."Pavel smiled slightly, watching the young Ranger listening to a tale of the old man about his first mission that went wrong because of one man similar to that prick Danila. It was the first time Artyom looked at least a little bit healthier. He seemed to be in a constant bad mood since parting from his little boy, full of stress and inner darkness. Pavel closed his eyes, suddenly being overwhelmed by a memory of his. "I see, I see the past and the future... I see a long road and an important task before you... Heavy sadness... cold pipes... an unexpected friend in dark clouds..." Pavel had to clench his fists so he won't make any suspicious sounds. "....a dark fate follows your steps... I'll tell you this: There is a long road ahead and then a forked road and one way from that fork goes down, down as far as the eye can see and it‘s not you chosen the road but it's you who'll walk the chosen road." He blinked, breathing heavily. And for the first time he seemed to understand what that crazy old hag had said to him back then. *bydlo= a simpleminded and usually strong bloke, that is easily manipulated by others ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Artyom knew he was dreaming again. He saw Zhenya and Vitalik, following him to the hermetic door. He saw himself opening it. Then the Watchers came and he sends his friends back inside, ready to shoot the mutants. The shotgun jammed, the familiar fear crept inside his heart. Then the dark one appeared. Artyom tried to memorize more. The way it looked at him. No: She. The way she looked at him.He had no idea why he was so sure of that now. But he felt like it mattered. Somehow. His savior stood there with him. He was no longer afraid. They both looked at the sky, watching the stars. And he felt at peace. The dark one held him. Not with his body. It was her mind. Tugging at Artyom’s softly, trying to find an entrance. Some common ground. He felt the curiosity of the other one.But he had to go. His friends were shouting his name inside the Metro. He wanted to thank that strange being, but it was gone the moment he looked back. Creeped out he ran back inside. And then his dream turned from simple reliving a memory to something entirely different.Artyom turned around in his sleep, making sounds of displeasure. The hermetic door disappeared in complete darkness, his friends too. There was nothing. Just thick, suffocating emptiness.And then he felt it. The mental nudge, full of feelings that were too much to bear. So much hate. So much pain. And sadness. Lonely. So lonely. And then red. Everything red. He saw himself standing on the TV tower, watching the inferno of the exploding city of the dark one’s. Watching how hundreds of homes turned to ashes and flesh burned to dust. He felt sick. The stranger’s rage got more intense. And then he heard it.“ ...Murderer!” It was with a low voice, hard to understand, but it made it even more spine-chilling. Artyom felt like he was losing ground. “ You are a murderer...” He was falling. Falling endlessly. But not fast enough. Faster. He had to be faster. “Murderer!” The voice got louder. He could sense that the dark one was about to reach him.And that was the moment he realized that it was exactly like his experience with that one dark one that had tried to stop him back at the tower. This here, this was very real! His blood ran cold. He felt hands on his shoulder and froze in horror. The grip got more tense. This was it. The dark one would kill him for sure! He had to do something! Anything!-“Whoa! Eeeasy, chuvak, easy! It’s just me! See? Put the knife down!”Artyom blinked. Irritated. His eyes fixated on the big hand that laid on his shoulder. Even through his clothes he felt the warmth. He craved for more, it was hard not to lean into the touch but the fear that the other man would immediately shy away prevented him from doing so.“Nu, see? Just the good ol’ face you love, eh?”Pavel chuckled but Artyom heard the uneasiness the other male had while talking. He lowered his knife and looked around them. He couldn’t help but wonder as he noticed that Pavel still held physical contact. It was endearing that Pavel really seemed to care. At least for now. His affection seemed to be a really unpredictable thing that came and went as it pleased…. Artyom looked around. The tunnel was dark, just their little fireplace gifted them with some light. Looking into the fire always calms him down a bit. He sighed and massaged his temple. His dream left him with one hell of a headache.“You alright, chuvak?”Artyom returned his look misty-eyed, it got Pavel in a way that sent shivers down his spine. The sounds in this tunnel, some sort of really quiet moans and pleas, got under his skin already, so Artyom’s behavior wasn’t helping. He had no fucking idea how his companions had the nerve to sleep in a place like this.“...I dunno.”His answer was nearly not audible.“I think… I think that the dark one is near. Very near. I’ve got a strange feeling…”Pavel flinched at that word and realized in the same moment that he was still touching Artyom. He shied away from the younger male, cleared his throat and hurriedly stood up.“Now we’re talking again about feelings, eh? I’m sure there will be plenty of time after this fucked up mission. Maybe with your wife?”Artyom blinked.“What the hell, Pavel?”[Wow. Didn’t see that one comin'...]Zhenya was just as perplexed as Artyom was.-“You boys okay?”Nikolai sat up with a friendly smile. How long has the old man been awake? Pavel stretched his muscles and controlled his munition with ostentation.“Yeah, of course. Good you’re awake now. Poyekhali! (Let’s go!) The sooner we leave this place the better!”“Uh...”Nikolai looked to Artyom in confusion and lend him a hand to help him get up.“...Is everything alright with him?”Artyom shrugged.“I have no idea...”“Hm.”With that statement they extinguished their fire and followed the Red further into the tunnel. “Boys, you smell that, too?”The old Hansa was looking kinda stressed to the two younger men. Pavel was silent which was odd, but he hadn’t talked much since they left. Artyom shivered. There was no other smell he hated more than burned flesh. It reminded him of Oktyabrskaya where the virus had been unleashed -because of Pavel… Artyom still did not know how the other man thought about his past actions now.Maybe Pavel thought about all those people that he helped to murder...How they started bleeding nearly everywhere. How some were killed with flamethrowers even before the virus showed any signs on them. How his precious Red Line massacred them, burned them out of their homes like rats... Artyom's anger rose with those poisonous thoughts but he tried his best not to comment something regarding that matter. It was hard but he managed to stay silent... The tunnel got darker and darker with every step they took. Their flashlights flickered. Then they were left in darkness. Pavel was cursing under his breath.“Blyakha-mukha! (Fucking hell!) That was bound to happen! Just our fucking luck, eh, D’artagnan?”Wind whooshed in their faces, it send shivers down their spines. Nikolai paused.“It is not only the smell that freaks me out. You feel that eerie atmosphere, too, don’t you?”Artyom nodded before he was reminded by Zhenya that his companions could not see that. They had no night vision goggles like him. He pondered.“...The air is thick with anger. And loss. Maybe sadness, too.”Artyom’s whispered words got Pavel’s attention. He was frowning at him. Artyom didn’t like those kind of expressions directed at him. Like he was strange. Something alien.He sighed in annoyance and crossed his arms.“What is it now, Pavel?”“...Nothing, nothing! It’s just… How exactly do you know that? I mean, come on, don’t tell me you don’t know how crazy you sound!”“I am not crazy, Pavel!”-“Would you two shush now? I think I heard something!”Artyom felt the attack before he saw it.“It’s the dark one!”His companions were already on the brink of falling to the ground. Artyom heard their pained screams but he remained somehow nearly unaffected. His headache was pounding more heavily but otherwise he had no difficulties.The dark one appeared right before him. He had to look up to look into her face. He felt her wish to destroy him. But somehow her hand was hesitating right before his face. He felt their minds intertwine. Felt her shock as she realized what was about to happen. She tried to cut their connection but it was too late. She was sucked inside his head, surrounded by darkness.Both bodies fell to the cold ground of the tunnel. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Artyom moaned in agony. Everything hurt so much, it was hardly bearable. His soul ached, but the Dark One continued, oblivious to his pleas. Ravaging his bare consciousness. Digging deeper and deeper, regardless his best efforts to stop it. She got to his journey first, then reaching his childhood. He had to watch again how he was dragged away from his mother, she and everything behind them being overwhelmed by big, fat, horrifying rats. Their munching sounds made him sick.She let him suffer. Exposing him again and again to that hurtful memory. The loss of his mother.She mocked him with his failure to remember her face, pressed the pain, the guilt, the self-loathing inside his very being. Again and again.He felt like suffocating. Everything laid bare before her, so why did she still searched for something new, while there wasn't anything left? ...He realized through his pain-clouded mind that this was a lie. He knew why she thought that she hadn’t discovered everything yet. And the answer was very simple: Because she hadn’t.He registered with horror that she indeed found that something. Something he had guarded even while being tortured. No. Not something. Someone. Not his son, he was far away at the moment. He was safe. It was...someone dangerously close to where he was...where he had been… Pavel! -God, if she knew what he meant to him! A new way to torment him with. Or what if she’ll try to get to Pavel, hurting him instead? “Show me your heart’s desire… Show me!...” Panic flooded through his veins. “You took all of my loved ones… Show me yours… Don’t fight me, child.” She got angry. He sensed that she was mad at herself, at her weak condition. Because otherwise she would already have what she wanted. Her weakened body was his blessing truly. Her cutting efforts hurt worse. He knew that it was just in his mind, but his senses were certain that she was scratching his real skin open bit by bit. “I can sense him… Show me who he is and everything will end… -The pain will stop.” She was close to the truth. Artyom could feel her sickening satisfaction of almost reaching her goal. He saw the silhouette of Pavel in the distance, felt her creeping closer. Her paw reaching for him. “I’ll be so kind and rip him out of your life for good.” -“No!”With all his might he pushed her back, his eyes opened in an instant.His breathing was ragged, his mouth somehow tasted like ashes. Never before had he felt more disgusted with himself as he did right now without being able to tell why he felt that way exactly. -“Oh, you’re awake.”A man in a white coat looked at him. That sign… A Nazi! That was some annoying information, which did not really surprise him though. He frowned. Where were the others? Struggling a bit he noticed that he was restrained to some sort of desk, it had a painfully resemblance to his “special time” with that maniac Korbut.“You can struggle all you want, those are really tight ones. You won’t escape while wearing them, for that I can guarantee.”He smiled at him. It made Artyom’s stomach twist. God, he felt awful… His vision was kind of blurry with tiny white dots appearing everywhere he tried to focus on. As for example this really painful looking surgical equipment on that desk to his side.-“I’m curious, what exactly is your connection to that Red Line Major again? I am told you two are old enemies. Therefore you may understand my confusion about your ongoing cries for that man.”Artyom blinked, something disgusting arose inside his torso, forcing him to swallow hard. But the feeling just got worse. The way that man looked at him… It was sickening. That stranger was truly dangerous... While thinking this a hand pressed itself on his thigh in some nauseous kind of way that forced strange pictures inside his head. Pictures that contained unpronounceable happenings... His body halfway exposed. Those cruel brown eyes above him. Pants being opened right before his very eyes, his face being held in place while-He stopped. The nausea was finally taking over. At least his head wasn’t restrained, probably because of what had happened earlier... -God! He gagged, having again that sickening taste of something entirely awful in his mouth. He put his head to the side right before he had to submit himself to vomiting the little amount of food his stomach contained.The stranger shouted at him, but Artyom just heard some sort of ringing sound. He registered with dulled surprise that the Dark One was behind the Nazi, similar tied like him. He wondered how this could be possible before he felt a mental attack again that would’ve him buckled over with the sheer force, but due to his restraints he was just painfully pressed against those before he hit the metallic operating table hard with his head - which made everything spin even more. He felt like he was drowning in agony. Fighting desperately for control. Pavel felt pain before he was able to open his eyes. He looked around, took his surroundings in. There wasn’t much to see, really. In fact everything was dark. He could not see his own hand right before his face. But the smell was indication enough to strongly assume that he was in some sort of prison cell. Well. In other words he got captured. Again. He groaned. His head hurt like hell! Surely that black thing that knocked them all out did a pretty good job. Well, to be true, just he and that Hansa-guy fell to the ground quickly after it’s appearance, but...“Artyom?”He moaned as soon as he tried to call after his friend. The noise of his own voice left him with a sharp pain that forced him to close his eyes again.“Blyakha!” (Fuck!)Growling he rubbed his temple, feeling the dried blood on his left side. He tried to sit up and decided that this was way harder than it should be. Everything spun. Or at least he thought that it did, with everything around him in darkness it was really hard to figure that out. He hold his breath for some time, trying to hear something, hopefully some familiar respiratory sounds. But there was nothing. Wait. Some muffling sound.“Nu, that’s kinda weird...”At least he was pretty sure that they hadn’t been captured by his own men. He knew their cells for traitors and all kinds of shit-faced freaks, and this here was completely alien to him. They had many really bad places for their enemies, but nothing like a dark room. At least none he knew. But he wasn’t about to allow himself to believe anything else. Certainty, order, those things were essential for staying sane these days.A pitiful moan echoed through this place, it made him realize that this here was not only a single cell, but probably a whole floor full of such. Or maybe-Light flooded inside, he effortlessly tried to examine the appearance of that certain someone that had to be responsible for it. A tiny light bulb at the ceiling switched on, it’s light way more dimmed, allowing him to watch four men entering the corridor. One look and he knew.“Of course it had to be fuckin’ Nazi’s…”, he murmured to himself while carefully positioning himself at the damp wall behind him, lowering his head so that his face was hopefully clouded in shadows and those that entered would not get the impression that he was awake.“Stillgestanden! (Attention!)”They stood there comically straight, scanning the cells.“Where is that damn Red the Doc wants to see?”The bigger one pointed at Pavel.“That’s him.”“Good, get back to your post, we’ll take it from here.”The big one, probably the guard, left. The other three entered his cell. Well, fuck. He supposedly had to play by their rules for now. At least until he had any idea why he had been captured and where the fuck he was.“Aufstehen!” (Get up!)He was shoved to his feet. On their way across the corridor, along the stairs, the soldiers talked in muffled voices. They sure were young, maybe just started their service. The other one though was definitely more experienced, he glanced at them with a disapproving glance, but said nothing to stop the young ones.They reached some sort of, well, clinic? Hard to tell with all the dirt and those boxes standing in the way. It seemed like a new outpost of some sorts. Or maybe they rearranged everything to match a different purpose than before?They stopped and he was pushed inside a tiny room with a big, slightly cracked glass. He knew those kind of windows, they were used to watch another room. The two young soldiers that hold him tight got closer to the glass. Pavel glanced over warily. He registered that the room was mostly empty, carts and boxes standing around. In the middle of the room was some sort of table and atop of it lied- he couldn’t stop himself from inhaling sharply. It was Artyom!His heart pounded inside his chest, blood rushing through his veins. He tried to stay cool, but found it hard to care. Especially as he saw that awful smile of that fucker to his right.“What sick games are you playing, you foul piece of-”He was hit before he could finish. He bit is bottom lip by accident and now had to deal with the metallic taste he hated so much. His side hurt, but it was bearable. Maybe he shouldn’t anger them any further, not before he hadn’t found out what exactly their motives were… Sorrowful his eyes darted back to the cause for his anger. Artyom was laying there without a move, his face almost entirely without any color. It was frightening to see him there.The young soldier to his left tugged the other one, distracting Pavel in his train of thoughts.“Eh, you sure that is the one? The Invisible Man? ...He looks so...young?”“I’m sure. Why else do you think he’s restrained together with that beast?”Pavel shivered. What beast were they talking a-“Blyakha-mukha!” (Fucking hell!)Pavel shivered in horror, just now realizing that in the back of that room was the Dark One, restrained and hanging at the wall motionless just the same as Artyom. -How were the Nazi’s able to hold it like that? And why weren’t any of those two moving? Were they dead? His chest tightened painfully. That couldn’t be! He tried to calm down, fighting for his composure.The older soldier, the one that hit him, watched him thoroughly with a blank face, it made Pavel angry at himself for allowing the man to read him like that and assuming god knows what. It was more than careless to lose his shit like that! Growling he looked back at that Nazi scum, eyeing him as fiercely as possible for his situation.Which maybe wasn't that advisable, but well, you only live once, right? Better do it with style! -He couldn't help but smile. Humor always helps to outlive such shitty situations. Someone entered their small space with a loud squeak of the door. He wore a mostly white coat, some really horrible glasses and looked definitely like he was in charge. A small man with power... Pavel hated those kinds of men. Often enough these happened to be the worst ones.“What do you want?”"Don’t you worry. I just need clarification regarding some...personal matters. -I know, I know, no one likes to reveal such things, but believe me, telling me will be beneficial for both of us.”Pavel scoffed. But the man stayed unimpressed.“Take a seat.”“I prefer standing.”The man stared at him, Pavel was sure he would be forced to sit, but in the end the stranger just shrugged and sat down himself.“As a matter of fact, my work depends on your cooperation, which is the only reason you're still alive, believe me..." He smiled at him. Pavel barely managed to stay silent. That man's smile just got a bit wider -and somehow more dangerous, too. "I guess you have already noticed my other guest over there?”Pavel just stared at him. Something was odd with that individual, he could tell.“Unfortunately he is our only link to those creatures, those "Dark One’s", as they’ve been called lately. And, well, as a matter of fact we need to understand this connection. You may have noticed that he’s almost immune against the side effects of their speech -or whatever you want to call their attempts of establishing contact.”He scratched his almost blank head, only on his sides were some strands of hair left. Strangely that scratchy sound , together with some disgusting amount of scall, sent shivers down Pavel's spine.“Sadly it remained impossible for me to stabilize dear Artyom’s condition so far. I simply didn't expect that he truly has no motivation to keep himself alive, some odd character he has. A true hero indeed." He chuckled lowly at that, while Pavel felt his rage burning inside him -and his worry alike. What exactly did that man mean? Artyom wouldn't just give up on himself! ...or would he? Ignoring his conflict the Nazi went on. "So, this is where you may come in handy -actually I'm pretty sure that this here will work. After all, you're Red. And Reds care deeply for their Communism, don't they? We'll may be interested in sharing our information regarding this experiment with you, working together on this. We may be faster that way. With the Ranger we'll find a way to bind those creatures to our will! We could use those Dark Ones to get the Metro under our control -and finally restoring order!”Pavel frowned. His stomach twisted with every word that came out of that mouth."I won't help you with this fucked up shit!""Ah, my condolence.", the man sighed, his face lost every bit of soft outlines he had forced upon himself. With squinted eyes in oppressed anger he flipped and immediately the Nazi's hold him tighter again. "And here I thought I could make a deal -one hand washes the other and all that, but well. You decided, I won't dwell on the past." He eyed the soldiers. "Gentlemen? Hold him good."He got closer, taking a big, fat needle out of his coat. Pavel tensed. Maybe, if he hadn't been such an emotional idiot, he could've played their game -at least long enough to get a clue of their situation. He had always been such a good spontaneous actor, but right now, for the first time since many years, there was so much at stake...He felt an almost light pain at his neck, seriously too damn frightened of that needle getting somewhere it really shouldn't, and drifted into unconsciousness seconds after that. His vision was already getting obscure.?Right before the last spot of light went away he heard that painful and yet bittersweet little voice he hadn't heard for many years calling him with joyous laughter. "Nana!" (Daddy!)
11305836	Fire Fire Fire	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Edward Elric, Winry Rockbell, the edwin kids we see in that photo", "Fandom": "Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by hyacincea", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-26T00:00:00", "words": "581", "Additional Tags": "for a tumblr prompt, this was fluffy and very fun", "Relationship": "Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Tumblr Prompts!", "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 }	Edward had been looking forward to a nice day where he could drink lemonade and play with Den and the kids in peace. Maybe even help Winry get an apple pie baking. (Al would find it hilarious, he reflected wryly, how much married life had changed him.) But he had forgotten who he was, and that his life couldn’t be too calm. About an hour ago, General Bastard and his omni-present Captain Hawkeye had turned up unexpected at their door, bearing apology gifts of wine for he and Winry and books for Sara and Daniel. Apparently they had been nearby and had wanted to drop by, but unable to call in advance.He sighed, looking out the kitchen window at them playing in the yard. Den was chasing a stick, while Mustang was playing with his kids- ‘who would’ve thought?’ Ed laughed to himself- while Hawkeye and Winry were in the in the den, making conversation and enjoying the snacks he had brought out. He closed his eyes for a second, pausing dishwashing to take stock of the moment. Things were quiet enough, and he could take a moment to relax, to enjoy the life and family he had been given. The sun was shining, his wife was happily spending time with an old friend, and his kids were enjoying themselves. He was close enough to the window that, if he tried, he could hear the rustle of trees, their enthusiastic shouting and laughter. He was at peace.That is, until the door slammed open, making him jump and drop the bowl he had been holding- with a terrific smash, it shattered into pieces that littered the kitchen tile. At the same time, those responsible for slamming the door were yelling, both at once and at full volume. He groaned. Avoiding the minefield on the floor, he made it into the living room, where his kids were quite possibly attacking his wife and friend in their effort to drag them out the door, screaming “Fire! Fire! Fire!” as they went. Ed stormed outside, glaring at Roy, who was sheepishly shrugging and trying not to smirk.“General, what on Earth…?” Captain Hawkeye began to ask, her voice trailing off as she took in the scene before them. Where a tire swing had been, there was now a mess of vulcanized and melted rubber, along with a good deal of ash, which probably had to do with the missing limb on the tree. Winry stared, gaping for a second before catching herself. Hawkeye incredulously took a single step toward the mess. Ed groaned again and glared at Mustang, who gave him a genuine look of sheepishness and apology. The kids, now that they had gotten mommy and daddy’s attention so they could take care of the fire, were happily inside coloring.Later that night, Ed scrubbed his arms one last time, ensuring the black soot hadn’t left any remains. Winry leaned in the doorway, looking on, trying not to laugh.“What’s so funny?” Ed challenged, turning to face her, toweling off his hands.“You are,” she said simply, before outright laughing. Ed joined her in laughing, knowing full well this wouldn’t be forgotten for a while yet. As the couple climbed into bed, Winry rolled over, resting her head on Ed’s chest and curling up beside him.“I think we should teach the kids that running around screaming ‘fire’ doesn’t constitute informing us of the danger.” she mumbled, and Ed hummed in agreement.
11361555	Wake Up Call	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones", "Fandom": "Riverdale - Fandom", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Birdlovesafish (Motherbirdnerd), Motherbirdnerd", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-06-30T00:00:00", "words": "954", "Additional Tags": "bughead - Freeform, smut with feelings, Trailer Sex, wake up sex, unexpectedly cute", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones", "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 }	Betty smiles as she hears the satisfying click of a successfully picked lock, cramming the bobby pin into the back pocket of her denim mini skirt. She retrieves the saran wrapped plate of cookies she’d set down on the landing and opens the door slowly, peeking her head into the trailer meekly as she calls his name.“Jug? Jug?” She doesn't see him in the living room area nor the kitchen, where she deposits the tray of cookies, so she heads towards the bedrooms in the back and lightly pushes his door open. Well, well, well she thinks taking in his sleeping form on the bed, laid out on his back, his feet hanging over the edge of Queen mattress, Look what we have here. OHer eyes skims the length of his lean strong frame, a wealth of creamy skin on display for her. Her eyes zero in on the lines of his hips and the dark trail of hair that started below his belly button. She licks her lips at the strong impression of his dick, outlined in the white sheet that barely covered his slim hips. On a whim she drops her skirt and whips off her tee then her underwear joins the pile on the floor. The bed dips a little with the weight of her crawling between his legs and snaking her hand underneath the sheet to grip his length. He stirs a little, his head moving from one side to the other with a small moan but he is still asleep as she pumps him experimentally. He groans low and scratchy in his throat as his dick grows rigid under her hand and she’s amazed at his body’s commitment to sleep. Betty whips the sheet away from his mid section revealing his stiff dick to her eyes and she moans as she takes him into her mouth, one hand slipping down between her legs and the other working in tandem with her mouth, gripping and twisting the base of his dick. He moans thrusting up into her mouth and his eyes begin to flutter. Betty releases him from her mouth smiling and she lines herself up, sliding down onto his dick with a groan, thanking the birth control gods that she could take him raw like this. She lifts back up slightly and falls back down on his dick, slowly establishing a rhythm as she got use to the feeling of fullness that this position afforded her. She puts a hand on his chest to steady herself“Betty?” Jughead croaks, his dry sleepy eyes coming into focus as he awoke to the image of his girlfriend atop him, her bottom lip sucked into her mouth with pleasure and her ponytail bouncing.“Am I dreaming?” She shook her head with a smile, leaning down to kiss him, slipping her tongue into his mouth despite the promise of morning breath. His body was at full attention now, nerves sharpened and the rush of sensations was intoxicating. She was so tight around him, so wet. The slap of their skin together the best kind of alarm clock.“God I love you…” he breathed catching her bottom lip and tugging on it with his teeth as she pulled away, sitting back up. Jughead grips her hips with both hands jamming her back down onto his dick as he begins thrusting up into her in earnest.“I love you too Jug..” she’s half sighs half moans as her eyes drift shut from the pleasure snaking through her body, “I miss you…”“Hey.” Her eyes fly open as he cups her cheek. “I'm right here.” He brings her lips down to his, an unspoken apology for not being there as much as he should be lately, the Serpents beginning to take up more of his time than he ever really wanted or bargained for. He flips them over so she’s on her back and he moves over her urgently, insistently kissing apologies into her skin softly as he rides her hard, draping her legs over his shoulders to drive into her deeper, the angle of it causing an amazing friction against her clit that drove her feral with want.“Fuck me Jughead, fuck me harder!” She pleaded, “Harder! Yes!” She came with a shout, her walls convulsing around his dick as her orgasm exploded, washing in waves over her body. The sight of her falling apart pushed him over the edge and soon he was following her with a guttural satisfied grunt of her name as he spilled his seed inside her.“I brought you cookies…” Betty said sometime later when they were laid up in his bed tangled up in each other, content and staring at each other moony-eyed.“You make the best cookies.” He kissed her shoulder and pulled her closer, laying his head on the swell of her breast.“I bet you say that to all the girls at your new high school .” She joked.“What other girls? You’re all I need Betts.”“It's so good to hear you say that…” she brushes some hair from his forehead and kisses it.“A smart girl once told me to not let Riverdale’s Civil War tear us apart.”“Wow she is smart.” Betty giggles.“And beautiful and loyal and giving and generally way too good for the likes of me.”“Give yourself more credit honey...you’re great in bed.” She erupts into laughter and he pops up hands going to her rib cage where she’s the most ticklish. They spend the rest of the day in bed after a short break for a shower and eat cookies in bed and watch Netflix. It is one of the best days they’ve had in a longtime.
11378919	staring at the sun	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by perfectlyrose", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-07-02T00:00:00", "words": "301", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Pining, Ficlet", "Relationship": "Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The Doctor watched as Rose was spun around the dance floor at some gala in their honor that she’d asked him to stay for. She didn’t ask often so he had relented and let her be swept away by the locals to get ready for the party.Now she was here, dressed in a flowing amber gown that shimmered in the soft lights, smiling and laughing; the belle of the ball. The Doctor looked away, feeling burned by her brilliance, like he had looked at a sun too long without proper protection. (She’d stripped away years, centuries of protection from him without realizing, without effort. Now he was vulnerable to her every solar flare, her every spark and smolder.)(There were burn marks scarring his skin, hidden beneath leather and wool and denim. He pressed on them sometimes, let the pain remind him that being able to feel anything was good, pressed on them to remind himself that this was all he deserved anyways.)The Doctor was still lost in his thoughts, probing this latest burn mark when a hand came to rest on his arm. He looked up and it was her, smiling just for him this time, the rest of her admirers forgotten, relegated to yearning from a distance like he had been.She sat down next to him, twining their fingers together and stealing a sip of his drink while she chattered about this person and that. He listened, enraptured as always.Her fingers left new scorch marks on his skin, layering over countless old scars, even as her soft smile acted as a balm.(He would continue to dance around her flames, drawn in as inexorably as a moth to the light, never learning from the burns and craving the salvation that she bestowed in equal measure.)

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