#I’m finally home from vacation and can get back to working on comms

[luffysprincess]

Good morningggggg I just woke up from a stress dream where I was invited to a friends wedding and was so late lol. But I’m feeling good rn!! I hope everyone else is too 🩵

[mrsbarnes107]

Secret of The Widow

-Part one-

Summary: The battle with Thanos left the world, and more directly the Avengers, with deep cracks within their hearts. Civilians had to adjust to five years lost, governments had to rebuild. And the hero's of our world had to come to terms with their loss, figuring out how to regroup and find the will to protect this healing civilization.

And they were doing okay. That is, until Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson bring back a sharp tounged woman with a lot of secrets to the tower.

(Set a year after Tony’s snap, by his orders the compound was rebuilt and used for the Avengers to have a home, obviously not all cannon compliant but is set after Wandavision and TFATWS)

Warnings: language, *eventual* violence and smut, death

Pairing: Bucky X OC

DISCLAIMER: this is posted to Wattpad as well and it WILL HAVE PLOT. I’m a Bucky hoe so there will be smut and romancy stuff but this is a series, so plot plot plot.

*one year after the battle with Thanos*

*Bucky POV*

"Hey Birdbrain! I'm glad your enjoying some vacation but I could really use some help down here." Bucky yelled into his comm, vaulting over a fallen beam.

Fucking Wilson. I don't know who thought we needed to be partnered up but I swear I'm gonna kill his feathered ass one of these days.

Always leaving me to clean up the mess.

"Are you so old your sights not working? I've got a dude the size of a gorilla on my back and am currently avoiding crashing the building down on YOU."

Before I can comment on his lack of use to the team, a bullet narrowly grazes my ear. I throw two knives ahead of me, dealing with the runners in front, then dart around a corner and take aim with my pistol.

There's three more assailants from the bombing, besides the one apparently riding Wilson, crawling through the ruins of the building. They're easy to gun down, the whole takedown was easy, and it's highly unnerving. The men look untrained and manic, holding their machine guns loosely and with little comfort.

One slips by me, allowing me easy access to a chokehold. He's disarmed and cuffed as the next guy goes running by. Well running by until he goes tumbling to the ground, a hole the size of a plum in his leg. I holster my gun and cuff him too just in time to see the pain in my ass come barreling through a broken window.

"Nice of you to show up." I grunt as I pick up a piece of the marble ceiling.

"This better not be a two bird one stone joke again. I swear man I'll -"

Before Feathers finishes his whining I chuck the hefty stone across the room into some rubble, a split second later I hear a grunt and a body crashing to the floor, and I'm pretty sure Wilson whistles lowly. Well that handles the third moron.

I turn to Wilson and cock my head. "Where's gorilla guy?"

"In the Atlantic. Is that all of them? Any survivors?" He asks as he surveys the still smoking rubble around us.

"Civilians seemed to be evacuated before the bomb went of for some reason, except for a security guard in the lobby. As for the bombers theres two cuffed and unconscious by the East entrance." I say as I gather my knives back from the bodies on the floor.

"Copy, I'm gonna fly them back to the quinjet. You check for any stragglers."

As Wilson takes off , leaving me with the mess again, I climb onto the crumbling second story and start to survey the scene.

I still don't understand why there aren't more casualties. The museum was opened and it's broad daylight. What I REALLY don't understand is why someone would want to blow up a museum and suck so bad at it that they don't get away with stealing anything or a death count over one.

I'm about to round a corner when I hear the slightest sound of gravel moving along the opposite wall. My knife is in my hand in less than a second.

The person rounds the corner and is in a chokehold within the blink of an eye, knife against their throat. I look down and am met with copper  red hair attacking my face. Under that hair is a girl. My grip loosens, thinking she's a civilian. A civilian with a hard right fucking hook.

I stand there rubbing my jaw and look down to her. Bright blue eyes are staring up at me, an eyebrow arched high as if in challenge.

"Doll, you don't wanna do that."

She just smirks and I sweep my leg out, sending her crashing to the soot covered floor. As she falls she hooks her leg around mine, pulling me after her.

Next thing I know her legs are around my neck and she's holding my metal arm against her chest.

What is it kids say these days? Something about thick thighs saving your life? Well they have apparently never met this woman with thighs of murder cause I can't fucking breath.

Her mistake however was going after me and not Birdman the useless twit. I heave my arm up with ease and stand, launching her down the hall.

Before she can orient herself, I have her pinned underneath me, cuffs around her wrists.

They should really make some for your legs too. I'm almost certain this woman's thighs are deadlier than those tiny fists.

As I haul her upright she doesn't bother to struggle. She laughs. Her lips is bleeding, there's rubble in her hair, and she was just thrown twenty feet across a room and she's looking up at me chuckling.

All I can do is shake my head as I notify Wilson of the extra passenger.

•••

*OC POV*

I look up from the bench I was unceremoniously shoved into moments earlier. Two of the bombers are slumped on the floor in the corner still unconscious.

"Okay Red, time for answers. Who are you and why did your team bomb the museum?" I look up and see the Falcon walking over to me, his arms crossed in as intimidating as a stance one can have with big wings on his back and goggles over half his face.

I just look past him at the man who caught me and tilt my head, looking him over. "Sargent Barnes. It's been a while."

His eyebrows shoot up, face in shock for a moment until he realizes his transparency.

"Wait hold up you-"

Sam was interrupted by Bucky shoving past him, stopping in-front of me with a glare. "Who are you? I sure as hell have never seen you before."

I just smirk at him and shake my head. "So when will we be at the compound? I have a schedule to keep up with and people to see."

Sam walks up beside the imposing force that is Bucky Barnes. "No we ask the questions. Who are you."

"You'll know when you know." I say with a shrug as I sit back and get more comfortable. "You'd think the Avengers would have enough money to have more comfortable seating." I mumble with a shake of my head.

The two men stare at me for a second until the large one armed man grunts in annoyance and looks at Sam. "Call everyone to the conference room. Ten minutes." He shoots me a look and walks off to start gathering his gear.

Birdy just glances at me and informs, apparently, the remaining team members to meet them upon landing.

As the quinjet starts to slow into decent, the hero's haul the men to the door, dumping them to the floor. As we touch down, the unconscious bodies get set outside on the helipad.

As the two walk towards you, Barnes leans in to whisper something into Sams ear. The bird man just looks at him with a raised eyebrow then back to you, seemingly confused.

"What gentleman, offering to escort a lady out. So kind." I smile up at the as they each grab an arm.

"Okay doll loo-"

Before the large man can finish his sentence I'm walking past them backwards, waving at their stupefied expressions as they look at their cuffed together wrists. I hear Sam mumble something about Bucky warning him against killer thighs not quick hands.

"See you boys in a minute." I send them a parting wink as I jump down to the landing.

"Hey we put the guys in holding for questioning. Why do we need to meet in-" The kid walking towards the quinjet finally looked up from his phone and stopped talking when he saw that you were in fact not a super soldier or flying man. "Wait who are you?"

"Hey Petey." I say as I give him a big smile and wrap my arm around his shoulder. "Do you think you could point me to the conference room? And get me some water? Inhaled to much smoke."

He looks confused for a moment as I lead him away from the hanger and the struggling heros trying to separate from each other, but he just shrugs with a smile and leads me into the compound.

[teamhappyme]

a series of promising events (4/5)

aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count: 6.7k

a/n: happy new year!! we’ve made it to part 4! this part differs from the 3 previous ones, as it takes place all in one (and a half) days. But there are flashbacks, represented with italics. if anything is confusing with the timeline, or anything else is confusing you in general, please let me know! my brain is a weird place and does not connect the dots when i post for a public audience. i hope you guys enjoy this part, it was really fun for me to write!

get ready, let’s go friends!

here are the links to part 1, part 2, & part 3

****

October 2012

“Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.” - Winnie the Pooh

You’re known for your predictability. Yes, you’re overly kind, extremely perceptive, and a little bit of a literary genius. But those closest to you knew the predictability of your life.

You craved routine. You woke up at 5:30 every morning, had breakfast, watched the news, and caught up on some domestic things before heading into the office. You stopped at the same bagel cart every morning, an Asiago bagel with butter for you and a coffee for Spencer. Monday’s, you treated the whole team. You got to work at 7:12, second only to Hotch. 

The team knew how you would react to every case. Missing or dead children would cause you to go silent, families being the target would choke you up, and anything including a scumbag with a signature kill made you nauseous. 

So it was safe to say they were more than surprised to find out that you’d left for a month long european holiday, from an email, with Strauss cc'd on it. The team couldn’t remember the last time you went on vacation, because you hadn't gone further than two hours in one day. 

In your travels through Europe, you stopped in countries that you’d only dreamt about visiting in your dreams. You saw Nyhavn, Denmark, the colorful canal right outside of Copenhagen. Hopped through Warsaw and Gdansk in Poland, before being silenced by your tour of Auschwitz. Next was France, the country you always said you would flee to once you aged out of the system. Besides hitting all the touristy attractions in Paris, you traveled through the alps, and made sure you stopped to see Giverny, the little village that inspired Claude Monet and his water lily paintings. The last true destination was Spain, jumping at the chance to flex your spanish minor muscles. You roamed Barcelona and Madrid, feeling a little like the Cheetah Girls as you stood in front of La Sagrada Familia.

The more you travelled, the more you’d thought about quitting. Thought about sending your resignation to Strauss through an email, leave your desk full of the mementos and picture frames, and continue falling in love with the continent you’d never been to before. 

But then you made your final stop in London, to the sister who you missed immensely, and lost the nerve entirely.

“You’ll regret leaving them for the rest of your life,” Emily said to you, and you wondered for a second if she was projecting her decisions onto you. 

“They don’t deserve me.” You’d mumbled out, just loud enough for her to hear. “I can’t continue on like this.”

You’d given the team everything you had for seven and a half years. The job demanded personal sacrifices you never thought you’d be capable of, until you met the people who signed on for this before you. The people who shared the same commitment to helping others, the responsibility to improve the world around them before the one that housed them. It was the first time you felt at home in your quarter century existence.

But the work never seized. The jet began to feel more like home than your apartment, hotel beds provided more comfort than your own pillow covered mattress. And no matter how many people you saved, no amount of gratification from loved ones could quell the loneliness building back inside you.

So you listened to Emily, and came back to the states on your original return flight, October 23, 2012. You returned to the real world in less than seventy-two hours and promised Garcia you would brush up on the next case before debriefing on Monday morning. 

You were betting on the fact that the team wasn’t lingering around the office, considering it was seven thirty on a friday night as you headed up in the elevator, fresh off your flight from the UK. The last thing you wanted was someone to corner you, when all you wanted to do was sleep off the lingering memories of your last night here. 

The glass doors leading into the BAU gave you a view of the bullpen; empty. Opening the door, you walked over to your desk, quickly glancing around the other spaces to see if anything had changed. It hadn’t.

Grabbing the files Garcia left on your desk and your car keys from the drawer, you tidied up the space the tiniest bit. You made sure everything was squared off to your monitor, updating the days passed on your desk calendar. You wrote a reminder on a yellow sticky to thank Reid for watering your small desk plant and stuck it to the screen for Monday. Everything looked like it was in its place, until you saw a blue stress ball sitting on your chair. Your head whipped up to the office at the top of the stairs, but the lights were off and the door shut. He wasn’t here. 

But you could feel the stare of his eyes from four weeks ago on you just the same.

You guys were working a local case in the District. 

The unsub had murdered three men, each with one shot to the head execution style. There were no signs of torture, and all three men were found with their eyes closed and arms crossed over their torsos; signs of remorse. 

It took the team thirty hours to stick the profile and find the woman responsible. Her name was Kathryn Downey, a forty two year old mother of three, with a law degree that hadn’t been used in fifteen years. After digging into the victims personal lives and her own, the motive and stressor became clear to everyone; her husband had cheated on her. 

You found Kathryn with a gun pointed to her husband’s head, his hands and feet duct taped, and a strip around his mouth keeping him silent. 

Her hands were shaking, and you knew from the second you saw her that she didn’t want to kill him. She was angry, and full of rage, but she wouldn’t be able to follow through with this.

As long as you use the right language.

“Kathryn, put the gun down, we’re with the FBI.” Hotch started in a calm voice, but she shook her head, hands shaking faster. 

“No. I have to do this. He,” She took a breath, pushing the hair out of her face with her free hand. “He has to pay.”

You glanced at Aaron before taking a step closer, slowly lowering your weapon. She needed to feel safe, and she needed to feel like an equal. 

“Kathryn, my name is y/n l/n. I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit from the FBI. I really want to help you through this situation, so I’m going to put my gun down, alright?” You slowly lowered the gun to the ground, kicking it back gently to Hotch. 

“Now Kathryn, I know your children are here. I don’t want anything to happen to them, and I know you don’t either, so could you tell me where they are so we can help them?” 

“In the basement, I locked them in the basement. I didn’t want them to,” She let the thought end, not wanting to manifest it into the universe. She didn’t want them to see their mother kill their father.

Hotch spoke gently into the comms, getting Morgan and Rossi down to the kids. 

“Kathryn, I want to know why we’re here in this situation. I’ve read the file, I profiled you and your family, but I want to know your side of the story. Why are you holding a gun to your husbands head?”

Her eyes widened in the slightest, and you were sure it was from the empathy in your voice. But this was your specialty, and you were determined to talk this woman down. 

“He cheated on me,” She whispered, and for a split second, you thought this was going to be easy. But then she pressed the gun harder into his head, and let out a low laugh. “After everything I’ve done for this family, for him, he just takes his pants off for another woman?”

You heard the safety click off, and Hotch’s own in return. Please do not end in a shootout.

“Kathryn, don’t look at him. Don’t think about him kneeling in front of you. Just focus on me. Tell me how you got to this moment right now.”

“How did I get to this moment? I got here by following around this sad excuse for a man for the last twenty years. Like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t escape this life of mine.” Her eyes started to water, and you internally sighed. You were getting somewhere. “I have a law degree, you know. Fifth in my class at Columbia, and I only used it for a year. And it was in sleazy corporate law. Because I got married, and I got pregnant, and Sean wanted someone to stay home with the kids.

“I went from the intelligent corporate attorney with her eyes set on the attorney general’s office, to a cliche housewife who spends her days cleaning and dotting on her husband and kids. I never wanted to be this woman,” She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall down her face freely. She looked so young in this vulnerable state, too young to have three children. Yet she looked so tired, and so defeated. “I gave up everything for this family. I gave up my career, friends, bucket list dreams, and a life that was waiting to be lived, for this man. I cater to his every need, I listen to him drone on about work, assure him when he’s feeling anxious, and give in when he needs a release. I am my children’s rock; when they need a shoulder to cry on I’m there in a second. They need help with their math homework, I’m the number one girl. But when it’s my turn to fall apart, when it’s my turn to be lifted up and supported, nobody is there for me. And he should be able to be there for me.”

If you hadn’t undergone intense training at Quantico, you would’ve been in tears by now. You empathized with this woman more than you should, and you were trying so desperately to help her out of this situation. So you continued to dig your fingernails into your palms, and spoke again. 

“I know what you’re feeling, Kathryn.”

“You don’t know what I’m feeling!” Wrong move. She ripped the gun away from her husband and fixed the trigger on you. Hotch moved so that he was only one step behind you, trying to get her to lower the gun. “You have no idea what this is like!”

“I do, Kathryn. I promise you I do. I may not be a wife, or a mother, but I know what it’s like to give yourself completely to a person. I know what it’s like to hold onto the stress and fears of the people you love. I understand, because I’m this person too.

“People like you and me, we feel the need to be the emotional support for everyone we love. We never want to see them struggle, and we never want to see them in pain. So, we listen. We overcompensate to make them feel better, and we check in regularly to make sure they’re okay. Our happiness, as strange and sad as it may be, is directly linked to theirs. We can’t be happy unless they’re happy. But once they come out of their depression, once they thank us for being the light in their lives, they walk away, and take the happy rainbow with them. And they don’t leave any for us.” Tears continued to fall down her face, but you needed to go further. She was going to break if you kept going. “Kathryn, I was in your position not long ago. I remember what it feels like when you realize that the love you have for someone won’t be reciprocated. That after everything you’ve done for them, all the small moments that you succeeded in taking their grief away and bringing happiness back into their life, they still don’t appreciate you. And it’s heartbreaking.

“But I’m standing across from you today, on the other side of that pain, trying to tell you that it gets better. It doesn’t go away, but it gets a hell of a lot better, Kathryn. So please, do not let this one moment that you couldn’t take the pain away ruin all the times you did.” 

You expected the tears. You expected an emotional end to this situation. You didn’t expect Kathryn Downey to drop her gun in the middle of the room, and collapse onto you. But that’s exactly what she did. And instead of letting go to untie her husband, instead of joining Hotch in cuffing her, you held her for a minute. You held her breaking heart in your hands, and tried your hardest to take away all her fears and pain for once in her life. 

After a minute, you pulled away and grabbed a hold of her upper arm. She gave you a slight nod, knowing this is what was always going to happen. You led her down the stairs and into the back of a squad car, as Aaron helped the husband to his children once outside of the house. 

You were leaning against the suburban that you came in, watching as the team debriefed with the local pd before being dismissed. But amongst the chaos, Hotch found your eyes, and gave you a knowing look. One that meant you were going to talk through the very personal negotiation you gave.

The team arrived back at the office just shy of ten o���clock, Penelope waiting for Derek at the elevator. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as you led the gang into the bullpen, everyone dropping their go bags at their desks. 

You lingered for a moment as Hotch made his way up to his office, knowing you’d be joining him in a few seconds. You grabbed your blue stress ball, complimentary from the C.A.L.M. department meeting, as through the curtains you could see him drop his bag before checking his phone for any messages from Jack.

“L/n,” Here it comes. “Can I talk to you in my office please?”

You and Spencer shared a look, and he gave you a comforting smile in return. You took the steps two at a time to his office, and shut the door behind you once you arrived. He was standing behind his desk, so you didn’t feel the need to sit yourself.

You waited for him to speak, since he was the one that called you in. It was a little childish, but you weren’t the one who wanted the discussion.

“I want to talk about the negotiation.”

“I thought it was pretty successful. I empathised, I got her to drop her weapon, and no one was injured in the process.”

“Y/n, you know that’s not what I meant.” He uncrossed his arms, letting out a sigh. The two of you were too exhausted to have this conversation, but that wasn’t going to stop Hotch from going on. “I told you that you could lean on me when it all became too much.”

“That was six years ago, Hotch.” Defensive, but not rude. A fine line. “And this wasn’t about work, this was personal. You’re not obligated to listen to our personal issues that take place outside the office.”

“And you are?” Stop spinning my words, Hotchner. “I know you, y/n. This isn’t just something that can be brushed back under the rug.” You scoffed. “You don’t know me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t know me, Hotch. None of you do. You know my file. You know that I got a full ride to Bowdoin, that I was a social worker before transferring here, and that most of my life before eighteen was sealed away. I confided in you six years ago about my childhood and now you think you know me?”

“Why are you getting so defensive?”

“I’m not-” You paused, knowing that if you finished that statement it would, in fact, be defensive. “I’m just really tired and I don’t want to be having this conversation right now.”

“It’s not healthy for you to keep everything in while people spill their lives to you. And you know that.”

“Hotch,” You warned, your exhaustion quickly turning into rage.

“What, you really think I’m just going to drop this after hearing you confess to a serial killer that you have no joy in your life? And now you’re going to try and convince me that I don’t know anything about you? Bullshit, y/n. I know that you talk to your foster siblings every sunday to check in and make sure they’re all doing okay. I know that you volunteer with Garcia to help the families of victims cope with their loss. I know that you cling to Spencer like gum wherever you go to make him feel less insecure in a bar.”

“Stop it,”

“I know that your favorite color is purple, that you still write articles for CNN and The Times under a pseudonym. And I know, more than anything in the world, you want to be the mother that you never got to have.”

“Stop it!” You threw the blue ball into his builtins, hitting one of his stupid administrative awards in the process. He didn’t even flinch. “You don’t get to know me like that.”

“Why not?” You let out a low laugh as tears started to fill in your eyes. He was oblivious, and that's what made it hurt even more. You cracked your knuckles for a few seconds, waiting for him to connect the words you spoke at the Downey house and your frustration with him in this moment.

But his face softened, the wrinkles disappeared from his forehead, and you knew he figured it out. He didn’t need to say the words for you to know exactly what was going through his head. But he was with Beth, and you were not going to interfere. This wouldn’t change anything.

“It’s late, I should head home. I’ll get you my report before monday.”

You left his office without saying goodnight, and you tried to ignore the rest of your team huddled around Morgan’s desk, pretending not to be eavesdropping. But they totally were. 

Instead you grabbed your bags, giving Spencer a reassuring smile as his gaze lingered on you for a second longer. You had no intentions of turning around to see Hotch’s face. But if you had, you would’ve seen the same heartbroken expression across his face, realizing he let you walk away.

You tore your eyes away from the office, not wanting to relive the memory any longer. You stashed the stress ball under your monitor before turning out the light, and making your way back to the elevator.

Once you were settled back in your apartment, you sent a text to Reid and JJ, letting them know you got in okay and that you’d see them at the office on Monday. After getting a thumbs up and a ‘glad you’re home’ in response, you turned in for the night, trying to dream of nights in Paris and Barcelona instead of at the BAU.

---

It was hard for you to get back in the routine of consulting and profiling. Garcia had left you copies of three cases the team was going to be working on when you returned, and you’d barely worked through the first one in two hours. 

Three teenagers went missing from their small town in Idaho, and all were found in Seattle in the same week. Of course, your first case back included kids. 

You resorted to calling Spencer when you really had no idea where to begin. You felt like a rookie all over again, asking for help when creating a geographical profile or running new negotiation tactics. But your best friend was quick to help, assuring you that once you got back to the office, you’d fall back into the routine.

“Did you have a good time?” He finally asked, albeit apprehensively. You didn’t leave on the best terms with anyone, and they all seemed to know what pushed you over the edge.

“I did. It’s amazing to know that there is a whole other world out there that we don’t even know about. It’s so different over there, Spence. It’s peaceful, and beautiful, and everything the place you call home should be.”

You could hear the intake of breath over the line. “Does that mean you’re moving to Spain?” A smile crossed your lips just thinking about Barcelona. But, it wasn’t home.

“This is my home, Spencer. I’m not leaving anytime soon.” You left out the part about contemplating a new life for the better part of three weeks, knowing it would only cause him more paranoia. You were staying in Quantico, continuing what you were born to do.

After drafting a rough profile and reviewing family statements, you took a break from the paperwork staring back at you all morning. 

You made your way into the kitchen to find something for lunch, the afternoon approaching quick. All you really wanted to do was crash on the couch and watch old movies for hours, until monday morning inevitably rolled around. Selfishly you wanted your vacation to last forever. But your mind, and your bank account, thought differently.

After consuming a sandwich and some chips, you brought back the fresh mug of hot chocolate to the kitchen table, ready to take on the second file. Two women raped, tortured, and murdered outside of Miami. Why the fuck did it always have to be Florida.

Halfway through the family statements, there was a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun from the side table, just in case. Only three people had a key to your apartment. One of them was in England, one you just got off the phone with, and one… you didn’t exactly know where you stood with him.

After checking the peephole and seeing Hotch on the other side, you let out a sigh of relief. No one is coming to muder you. But it was quickly replaced with the memories of your last encounter, and the unspoken realization of feelings unrequited.

You placed your gun back on the table, and unlocked the door for him. He was wearing a navy blue quarter zip, jeans, and sneakers, the ultimate Aaron Hotchner not on duty look. It made your heart beat just a little faster noticing his hair was free of any gel, flopping naturally as he walked. 

“Hi,” You greeted him, half of you hidden behind your front door. 

A shadow of a smile crossed his lips, and he placed his hands in his pockets. “Hi. I’m sorry for stopping by unannounced. I know you must be tired and getting ready for Monday.”

“No, it’s okay. Did you want to come in?” You opened the door a little more, stepping out to show your sweatpants and sweatshirt look from behind the door.

“Thank you.” He murmured as he walked through the entrance, moving to take off his shoes. You told him a million times that you didn’t follow that rule, and that you hated it when people made their guests remove their shoes. But he told you once that it was a sign of comfort, that he felt at ease in someone else's home.

“Can I get you something to drink? I have some tea bags left over I think, or I can make you a cup of coffee.”

“No, I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure? It’ll only take a second. Oh, are you hungry? I still have some sealed crackers from before I left, might have something in the freezer if-”

“Y/n,” He interrupted you and you stopped in the middle of your path to the kitchen. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” You nodded, making your way back to the living room. “Oh, I um, got something for Jack while I was in England with Emily. I know it’ll probably keep him holed up in his room for a week, but I couldn’t resist.” 

You pulled out the bag of souvenirs you got for the team, grabbing the London attractions lego set you bought for the young boy. Aaron smiled when you handed it to him, knowing the two of them would no doubt be starting this when he got home. 

“You didn’t have to get this for him. But he’s gonna love it.” 

“I know.” You reached in the bag once more, pulling out the gift you got for Aaron. “And I know you’ll probably never wear this, but I had to get it for you.”

He opened the box, a british flag tie on the inside. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips, the tacky gift really meaning a lot to him. “Thank you. I can honestly say this is the most unique gift I’ve ever received.”

“Glad to hear it.” You tucked your foot underneath you as you settled onto the couch, letting Aaron set the gifts aside. You knew what conversation was coming next, but you didn’t have the courage to start it. Especially since he was the one to come to you.

He settled in on the couch, a cushion between the two of you, a clear boundary that he’d set. 

“Did you enjoy your time over there?” 

“I had a really great time. I can’t believe I’d gone thirty two years without leaving the country. You don’t realize how much of the world there is to see until you go and uncover a small fraction of it.”

He smiled while beginning to pick at his fingernails. This was a new tell of his, he was usually extremely reserved with his anxiety. “You sound like Emily.” 

“I’m going to take that as a complement.” You said with a small laugh, adoring the woman across the ocean. 

“It is. She called me a few days ago, told me you guys had a nice visit.” 

“We did. Prentiss knows how to have a good time no matter the city. It was a little too much for me, though.” 

“Nobody can quite keep up with Emily.” He added before letting out a breath.

“She also told me that you were contemplating leaving the BAU.” There goes the first shoe, dropping from the ceiling. “Are you still thinking of quitting?”

“No.” It was the truth. Em had spoken some sense into you, and you knew deep down, like you told Spencer, this was your home. “I just needed a break from everything. And Europe was an amazing distraction. But I’m back, and ready to get back into the swing of things.”

He nodded, some tension slowly released from his shoulders. He couldn’t lose another member. It was too soon.

“Was it because of me?” 

“What?” Even though you were expecting this conversation, it still caught you off guard. 

“I’m not conceited enough to think you fled to another continent because of a fight, but is that what pushed you over the edge? What led you to want to quit the BAU?”

In a word, yes. The argument was the last straw on the camel's back. You’d spent years with this unit, fulfilling a destiny that you made up for yourself so that you wouldn’t feel guilty for not having a family or friends to confide in. You spent the better part of the last three years pining for a man you couldn’t have, trying to fill the holes in your life by playing pretend. So yes, it was Hotch that pushed you over the edge. But you learned a hell of a lot about yourself in those four weeks.

“Hotch, did you know that this was the first time I went on an airplane for my own enjoyment? This was the first vacation I’ve been on in my life. I booked a flight on a Thursday night that left at six a.m. the next morning. I was spontaneous, and in control of all the moves I would make for the next thirty days. I’ve never felt more liberated in my life.

“But then I landed in Copenhagen, and had an anxiety attack. I can’t speak Danish, I have no idea how to get around a new country, and I only had thirty dollars in cash to my name. And the only thing I could think of to help me get through it, was calling you. I had your contact pulled up, ready to call you and tell you what a stupid fucking mistake I made. But then I could hear your voice in my head, saying ‘I know you’, and I’d never turned my phone off faster.”

“Y/n,” He sounded exhausted himself, but you weren’t going to give in to the apologies. Not yet.

“I had the time of my life there. I went to places that I never thought I’d get to see in my life. Places that my foster parents told me I’d never be important enough to go to. But I made it. I made it to Giverny, and I saw what inspired Claude Monet to paint the Water Lilies series with my own eyes. I went inside La Sagrada Familia and walked on the steps that Gaudi dreamt of. I saw everything I wanted to, and I wept every place I went to. Because I got myself there. I persevered and worked my ass off my whole life, to get there. I didn’t have any parents, I didn't have any siblings, a spouse, or children. I did it all by myself, and it felt pretty amazing to accomplish that.

“No one knows me like I do.” You finished. Your walls were back up starting to feel secure in your own skin again. 

He stayed silent for a few minutes, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. He was calculating his response, trying to formulate the perfect response to get the two of you back on track. It was exhausting watching his brain work, and you wondered how tired he must always be.

After another minute, he sighed and dropped his hands into his lap. “Beth and I broke up two weeks before you left.” The other shoe had dropped.

“What?” For the second time tonight, you were rendered speechless by Aaron Hotchner. This was not the response you were expecting, and not the news you expected to hear anytime soon. The two of them were obsessed with one another, how could they just end it?

“We ended it two weeks before your trip. She accepted a job in Kyoto, and didn’t want to string me along with long distance. But she also said she knew my heart wasn’t in it anymore.”

You stood up from the couch, not being able to sit still with this new information. Hotch and Beth were no longer together, he said all those things to you as a single man, understood what you felt for him, and still let you walk out of his office. For four weeks. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was his turn to stand, still leaving enough distance between the two of you to continue your pacing. 

“Don’t deflect to another conversation.” 

“You’re the one that brought it up!”

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly shaggy hair. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you again. So please, get it through your thick skull when I tell you that I know you. And I don’t mean that on a bureaucratic superior level. I know you, y/n. And just because you’ve been alone your whole life, doesn’t mean you deserve to be alone for the rest of it.” 

Your eyes started to water, so you looked away, gluing your line of sight to the wall next to you.

“You give us all one hundred and ten percent of your attention when we need you. And when I say all of us, that includes Jack and Henry. I’ve never met someone so intune to another person's feelings, who exudes so much empathy with one look and a smile. And we’ve taken you for granted for seven and a half years. Me the most.” Your eyes found his brown ones, begging you to continue looking at him. “I couldn’t have gotten through Haley’s death without you. And that is the biggest understatement of the decade. I am eternally grateful for all that you’ve done for me and Jack. But at the same time, I’m so sorry that it pushed me further and further away from you.”

His own eyes started to water, and he choked out a laugh. “What you said to Kathryn Downey, about giving yourself completely to a person and not getting the love reciprocated. I felt like an absolute idiot for not realizing that you felt the same way I did.” You closed your eyes with his confession, letting the tears roll down your cheeks. 

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you. But then Haley took Jack, and Foyet came, and the world got away from me. And I’m so sorry that you’ve felt the need to carry all our problems on your own.”

“Hotch, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Please, don’t call me Hotch right now.” He took a step toward you. “It’s Aaron, when I’m standing in front of you, begging you to just let me in.”

“I don’t,” Your voice cracked, and you rubbed your hands over your face in frustration. “I don’t know how to let someone love me.”

“I know,” He took another step closer. “You’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you I’ve been in love with you for years.”

He didn’t see the rest of your tears fall, because you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. His arms found their place around your waist, pulling you two impossibly close.

“I love you, Aaron.” You could feel him laughing with his chest pressed against your own, and he moved to kiss the side of your head. 

“I love you.” He whispered back, causing the last of your tears to fall onto his sweatshirt.

He started to pull away, just enough to get a look at your face. His eyes were no longer filled with tears, but his cheeks still glistened when the light illuminated the damp spots on his face. He brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, letting his knuckles gently graze your temple. You caught his hand in the middle of his movement, lacing your fingers with his own. You’d been dying to know what it felt like to hold his hand like this for years, when you found yourself comforting him in his office one night, lightly holding his hand in yours. But this was so much better.

“You good?” He asked, and the corners of your mouth turned up the slightest. 

“I’m good.” He traced the lightest check mark on your laced hands, causing a true smile to grace your face.

“You have a tally to see who can make me smile the most?” 

“It’s just mine. Been keeping it for years. But I’m always in the lead.”

You laughed while letting go of his hand, wrapping your arms back around his neck. His eyes flickered to your lips for a second before looking back at you. You gave him a small nod, knowing he was asking for your permission. 

When his lips met yours, you knew this was the feeling that all the fairytales sang about. He was gentle at first, slotting your upper lip between his own. It was slow, and full of love from the years of knowing one another inside and out. He bit your lower lip softly, barely there, and you slowly parted your lips, letting him trace your tongue with his own. 

All you could think about was how warm he was, how his breath was actively leaving his lungs and entering your own as if you were one person. It was all consuming, and you were grateful that he took the lead, because you couldn’t focus on anything but him.

His hands slipped under your sweatshirt, resting on the skin just above your hips. You let out a small gasp as his cold fingers made contact with the sensitive skin, but it only made him laugh into the kiss. 

After a few more moments of getting lost in the feel of one another, you reluctantly pulled away, needing air to fill up your lungs. But Aaron didn’t go far, gently resting his forehead against your own. 

“I love you. And I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to stop telling you.” You closed your eyes and tilted your head up, slowly kissing him again. 

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it.” You mumbled, your lips still grazing his own. He smiled into the kiss, which only made your heart glow brighter and brighter the more he showed you how he felt.

You pulled away first, tracing the outline of his jaw with your thumbs. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He tilted his head to the side, just enough to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. 

The tenderness this man exudes is beyond belief. “I really love you, Aaron.”

He laughed while pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad to hear that.”

You let him hold you for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes. “I promised Jack I would take him out for ice cream to make up for missing his soccer game last night.” 

“Okay,” You said and started to pull away, but his grip on your waist only tightened.

“Really? You’re just gonna let go without a goodbye?” You laughed at his fake hurt expression, so incredibly happy that you get to see Aaron in this light, enjoying his son, his life, and you. 

“I’m not about to stand in the way of Jack Hotchner and a sugar rush. That guy loves his sugar.”

He let go of your waist, but not without a light squeeze to your sides. “I know we literally just started this, but I really would like to tell him. I don’t want to keep any more secrets from him than I have to.”

You smiled at the thought of Aaron telling Jack how in love the two of you were. It made you feel complete, in a way you never thought you’d get to experience in your life.

“Tell him. As long as he doesn’t blab about it to anyone on the team just yet.” 

“You sure?” You nodded while passing him the souvenirs as he slipped his sneakers back on. 

“Aaron, he’s your son. I’ve loved him as long as I’ve loved you, maybe even longer.”

He stood up once again, that stupid smile not willing to leave his face any time soon. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 

“Must’ve been something pretty good.” You said with a laugh, which he silenced by placing his lips on yours. You hoped the butterflies you felt now would be there every time he kissed you, no matter how many years have passed. 

“Like that.” You said once he pulled away. His dimples were showing now, and you wished that you could take a picture of him in this happy moment and remember it for the rest of your lives. 

“I’ll call you tonight.” He said and opened the front door. 

“Okay. Have fun, tell Jack I said hi.” 

“I will.” He kissed your cheek before starting the walk back down the hallway. He didn’t even make it halfway before turning around, and giving you one final kiss in the doorway. 

“Love you,” He said and gave you one more peck, before you shoved his shoulder. “I love you too. Now get outta here, Hotchner.”

****

tags: @simplyprentiss @michaelahah @ssahotchner99 @svrgicalhands @hotchtopic @unionjackpillow @philcoolson @tommhollandzxhaz @kathleenjasmine @canimarrypizzaornah @reaperwalking @inlovewithaaronhotchner @shelbymm11 @mrshotchner23 @tropicalwrites @averyhotchner @dreamy-moments @softhxtch @crazymar15 @theinsanespaceship15 @wecouldbreakthedistance @jeor @funnycuteandannoying @andherestograce @thisisntjuliana @captwilson @kennedyblair @lovelysunflowerxoxo @rcompton @iifaequeenii @iwaizumiee @mrsaaronh0tchner @abbeyannsmith-blog @becausehello @rinacriedpower @ssa-raye @ephemeral-barnes @slxtherinchxser @baueoud @lieswithoutfairytales @hug-a-bug-boo @blogmythoughts @freebanditghostcalzone @sugarbutterbailey

[dork-empress]

Singing in the Dead of Night Pt 3

Lucy and Damian visit Metropolis.

Past chapters are under my tag 'lucy quinzel' and the whole fic is on my AO3 (url in my description). Please reblog and leave comments.

Flock of Robins

Timtiminey:Guys. Guys. Guess what???

Jason: I thought I deleted this chat.

Timtiminey: Ha funny you think I’d allow you to do that

Timtiminey: And you didn’t guess.

Dickbutt: Tim I’m on a mission.

Dickbutt:.....

Dickbutt: TIM CHANGE MY NAME

Timtiminey: You’re still not guessing.

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DickiestButtiest

Stephaluffagus: Whatever Is It, Tim?

Jason: Why is Stephanie even on here?

Stephaluffagus: I was a Robin!

Timtiminey: And she asks the questions. Well, you SEE

Timtiminey: DAMIAN GOT A GIRLFRIEND

Stephaluffagus: WHAAAA?!:?HSLHFADSKLJFKL?????

Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DatAssTho

DatAssTho: Awwwww, that’s so cute!!!

DatAssTho: Our little hellion is growing up

DatAssTho: It’s like it was just yesterday he was threatening to stab us all

Jason: That was last week at dinner.

Jason: Who the hell said yes to go out with him?

Timtiminey: That’s the best part! The old man set them up.

Stephaluffagus: ALKSDAN LFKSNDAFLKNDASKLF

DatAssTho: Well thats just not fair. He never set up me on a date.

Jason: He put you on the Titans.

DatAssTho: Watch it, Todd

DatAssTho: Also, you type like an old man

Jason: With proper punctuation?

Stephaluffagus: Guys, we’re straying from the topic: Who is it??

Timtiminey: Harley’s niece, she’s got some like, clown ballerina thing going

Jason: QUINN?!?!?!

Jason: LIKE JOKER’S GIRLFRIEND????

DatAssTho: Dude, they broke up ages ago

Stephaluffagus: Yeah, she’s basically more hero than you are

Jason: You really want to go down THAT route Brown?

Timtiminey: OOOOHKAYYY

Timtiminey: Rest assured, the old man vetted the girl. She’s…..unique? I’ve only seen her file, or part of it anyway

DatAssTho: Bruce has secret files doesn’t he

Timtiminey: I think I made it through the first encryption, but I’m working on the next between other cases.

Timtiminey: After all, we have to make sure she’s alright for our little Dami-kins

Stephaluffagus: Isn’t he on this chat?

Timtiminey: He’s had this muted for ages

Jason: YOU CAN DO THAT?!

Timtiminey: I mean, YOU can’t. I will turn it off for you

Jason: …….

Jason: Well you know it’d be a shame if I

Jason: @DamianWayne

Timtiminey: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!

Damian: You’re dead Drake

DatAssTho: RIP

Stephaluffagus: He will be remembered

Jason: Prick.

“Get on already,” Damian said, exuding as much disinterested and grumpy energy as his body could manage.

Lucy skipped over to him, and looked at the seating arrangement on the Robin Cycle. “Hmm”, she said, “I don’t know if I’ll fit.” She climbed up to the back of the cycle only for her tutu to spring her backwards.

“What the hell is in that thing?” Damian asked, scowling. whatever had hit him was way more solid than fabric.

“Oh all sorts of things!” she said, “It’s my utilitutu!”

Damian really should have been used to this by now. “Your what.”

“Utility Tutu. I’ve got my balloon animals, my gas bouquet, my tamborine…”

“Well get rid of it or something,” Damian said, and was somehow surprised she did as was asked. Left in just a leotard, she hooked the tutu around her arm and jumped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Luckily, he was wearing his helmet, so no one could see him blush.

He revved up the motorcycle to try and drown out his thoughts. They’d been particularly loud ever since Tim said what he said...and, maybe since Lucy said what she said.

Were they dating? Is that what was happening? Lucy had called it a date, but Lucy was weird. It wasn’t like Damian understood how these things were supposed to work. This was super not in the training regime for the League of Assassins.

Did he...want it to be a date? He was even less sure. Lucy was...odd, but she had grown on him. She was the exact opposite of him, cheery where he was brooding, she was peaceful, he was violent. She was...kind and funny and playful. He was super not. they were both smart, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended.

And yet, it kinda worked. She was pretty, in a girly way, or at least thats what he could tell from under her makeup. He’d never been...really interested in girls or anyone. He didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like. If this was how it was supposed to feel like.

Well, he wasn’t going to be forced to be in a relationship with anyone. If she tried anything, he would tell her no, in no uncertain terms. Then he could get Tim and the others to shut up.

Once the decision was made, of course, he was left to ruminate for the remainder of the ride. He might have welcomed some of Lucy’s chatter, just to get his mind off things. Damn Bruce, not letting him use the batmobile…

Finally, a blur appeared beside him. “Need a lift?” Jon asked, rushing along beside him. Damian couldn’t help a smirk as he followed him through the city.

They came to a stop in an alleyway, though it didn’t hide much. “Whoa,” Jon said, eyebrows raised, “Hello, who’s this?”

Lucy stood on the top of the motorcycle, slipping her tutu back on and giving a deep curtsy, “Greetings! I am Commedia, The Dancing Delight, Columbina of Gotham and--”

“She’s Harley Quinn’s niece,” Damian said, cutting her off, “Lucy, Superboy, Superboy, Lucy.”

Lucy jumped down, eyebrow raised, “Now, come on. Surely you boys know how hard it is being defined by those who came before you.”

“Yeah, Robin,” Superboy said, holding out his hand for her to shake, “Honestly, no manners. Nice to meet you, Comme...Colum..um.”

“Lucy’s fine,” she said, “Aunt Harley said it’d be good for me to go and see some of Metropolis, maybe get some shopping done.”

Jon smiled, “Well, there’s plenty to do around here, and you picked the perfect tour guide! Come on, Mom and Dad are working today. I’ll show you around.”

Damian followed the pair of them around at a pace where you could just barely tell he was part of the same group. He was in his black outfit again, with sunglasses so that Lucy couldn’t tell who he was, and all of Metropolis wouldn’t know Robin wasn’t in Gotham.

Jon took them on the full tourist tour, going to see the many wonders of Metropolis. Though, a few stops Damian was pretty sure weren’t on the main route, like when they went to the top of the Daily Planet building. Other than that, though, it was a lot of pretty buildings, old buildings, the Superman memorial/dedication (they just left it up when Superman came back) and other sites that were considered important.

Damian sulked, having seen all these before and not finding them any more impressive than the first time or any time after that. What did surprise him was that Lucy didn’t seem any more impressed than him. He would have thought she’d go Gaga over the tourist trappings, considering she react to abandoned (allegedly) mines like a family at Disney World.

But she looked at each one, nodded in appreciation, and went onto the next thing.

Jon was kinda weirded out by it too, Damian could tell, not that Jon was ever subtle. He kept looking to Damian as if to try and explain her behavior, not that he was ever going to be doing that.

“Ok,” Jon said, as they sat outside the capitol, “Is there anything you WANT to see?”

Lucy shrugged, “To be honest, buildings don’t really interest me that much. But I’m glad to have gone with you, of course.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Damian said, “What’s the point of going around like this if you don’t even like it? We went around all damn day for YOU!”

Lucy tilted her head, “We went so that Superboy could show us things and we could get to know him.” She smiled at him, “You clearly admire Superman a lot, and you’re clearly like him. I’m glad you get along with your dad so well.”

Jon smiled, confused, but appreciative, “Thanks?” Damian grumbled. “But, I’d like to get to know YOU better as well. So if there’s something you like, the city has everything.”

Lucy hummed, “I honestly mostly just like to people watch in my free time.”

Jon beamed, “Oh man, I have the perfect place then.”

With a hop, skip, and a kryptonian-powered jump, the three of them were in the rafters of the Metropolis Subway station, looking down at everything and everyone as they went by. Damian was just glad they were inside, and being underground had him feeling a bit more at home.

Lucy practically sparkled, leaning way too far over to look at everyone. “What are they saying? Can you hear them?”

“Uh, which ones?” Jon said. She pointed aggressively. “Well, that one’s a family on vacation, the dad there is going over the itinerary, he’s got it printed out. The daughter there is trying to get him to skip the museums so they can get to the aquarium faster.”

“Ohh, what’s at the aquarium?” Lucy asked, kicking her feet like a child.

“Some fish, jelly fish are cool...Oh, they got a new shark there, I think.”

Damian groaned again, “Ugh, who CARES? If you wanted to go to the aquarium, then lets go to the aquarium! Instead of just watching someone TALK about it! These are all just normal people!”

“Robin, dude,” Jon said, “If it’s what she wants, why not? We are here for HER after all.”

That in of itself would have been enough to shame Damian, but Lucy was staring at him. She stared unblinking, and unsmiling. It was actually creepy. Like she was staring through him.

“Nobody’s normal.” She said, very seriously, her voice no longer taking on the cheery affectation. “Not a single one that I’ve ever met. Many of them TRY to be normal, but it is an illusion. A moving target, an ideal that doesn’t exist and people are shamed for not attempting to achieve.”

Damian could feel himself resist leaning away from her. “Uh, Lucy?” Jon said, “Something you want to talk about?”

Lucy blinked like she was remembering she was supposed to. “I suppose it is personal to me,” she said, “My…mother was always a little scared of Aunt Harley. First scared of her success, then scared of her villainous career. She always wanted to be normal. She wanted…me to be normal. She was scared of what I’d be. Who I’d be like.” She smiled, an echo of her previous smile, “It’s not quite the same as being a disciple for a great hero like Superman or Batman.”

Jon was suddenly looking very awkward. “Well,” He said, “I mean, having Harley Quinn as your aunt isn’t that bad. And you’re good anyway! So, no need to worry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy said, “It doesn’t matter if I was good or bad. It just matters that I was strange.” She tilts her head, looking down at the mass of people rushing back and forth. “Ever since I was little, people didn’t feel…real. They’re just. Stories. I couldn’t relate to my peers, as my teachers would say. I don’t know how to explain it. The only time I tried, my mom was so scared she sent me to a camp. One of those meant for bad kids to help them behave.” She tilted her head, “But they weren’t bad. They all had different stories. I realized there were no normal people. Just people with stories.”

Damian couldn’t have spoken if it was to yell for help. He stared at Lucy, trying to decide if he should be concerned or sympathetic.

Jon cleared his throat. “Well, I think you’re nice. And that’s what’s important. No problem with learning more about people and helping them.”

Lucy smiled, “Thank you.”

Jon’s head whipped to the side. “Ah, shoot, Dad’s calling me. I’ll be right back.” Lucy’s cheery attitude was back and she nodded, as Jon took off.

Lucy looked over at Damian for a moment. Damian felt he should say something. Apologize, maybe? He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and if it was appropriate, would Lucy want it. She worked on a whole other level, that was clear.

Lucy went back to watching people below her.

“My mom,” Damian started, not sure where he was going to end his sentence. Rule one of being in his family was to not reveal details about himself. But it was Lucy and she…she was his friend. “She was a…she’s a villain. I was supposed to be too. Maybe would have been if I didn’t go to live with Batman.”

Lucy nodded, “That sounds like a very interesting story,” Lucy said, “Thank you for telling me.” She tilted her head towards him. “Hey Robin, there’s this comedy place here in Metropolis I looked up. I was hoping maybe we could go tonight? I’m kind of a comedy nerd, and it’s always good to support people at an open mic. Maybe you’d even laugh once.”

Damian braced himself. This was a date. She was asking him on a date. He had prepared himself for this. “I can’t,” Damian said, the words practiced, “I don’t think of you that way. We can hang out and…be friends, but no.” There. No question about it.

Lucy looked at him, and tilted her head, thinking. “Ok,” She said, simply. Didn’t seem too heartbroken. It was a relief. “Hey Superboy,” She said, voice raise just slightly on the sounds of trains, “Do you want to go on a date to a comedy club tonight with me?”

There was a brief pause, then with a burst of wind, Jon jumped up back to the rafters. “Yeah, that sounds good,” and they shared smiles, “Robin, I can get her back to Gotham if you want to head home.”

Damian blinked, trying to process what exactly was happening. “I–,” technically, he wasn’t supposed to leave Lucy, for reasons Batman hadn’t been overly clear about. But if something was going to happen, she’d be plenty safe with Jon. Still, he wanted to argue this, even though he had nothing, and he knew he had nothing. “Sure, that sounds fine.”

Jon held out his hand to help him down, but he could easily get out by himself. And so, alone, he went home. And he didn’t understand the strange feeling in his gut.

Bruce stretched his neck coming down to the batcave, seeing Tim on the computer. “Commissioner Gordon has kindly invited Batman and Robin to the Wayne charity Christmas Party on my behalf,” he said, “I’ve got Dick coming down to wear the Batsuit for me. I’m going to work to have Damian as Robin, but would you and Steph take on patrols that night? At least some of us should actually be doing work.”

Tim didn’t answer. He stared blankly into the computer. Bruce sighed, most likely he didn’t hear him. “How long have you been down here? You’re going to ruin your–”

“Are you planning on telling Damian?” Tim asked.

Bruce paused and looked at what Tim was staring at. It was medical records of Delia Quinzel, specifically of her pregnancy.

Specifically the fake pregnancy records that Bruce had made. “What are you talking about?” Bruce asked.

“Please don’t insult me,” Tim said, face stoic, “You really think I can’t recognize your digital fingerprint all over these files?”

Bruce took a few deep breaths. “Have you told anyone?”

“Hell no,” Tim said, finally looking up, “And I cleaned up your mess. But I don’t know if anyone else has looked into this before now.” Tim glared at Bruce, “So I ask again, are you planning on telling Damian that you’ve put him in charge of protecting Joker’s biological daughter from her own father?”

Bruce came over and looked at the corrected records. They were, in fact, cleaner. Bruce’s were too normal. Tim added in complications that could have happened, just enough to make people think they’d already found what was wrong. “We don’t know what Joker knows.”

“Oh, and he just happened to escape Arkham and disappear at around the same time a teen starts hanging around his ex-girlfriend.” Tim said, dryly.

“If he does know,” Bruce said, “Then its our job to stop him. If he doesn’t, then we still stop him. But Lucy has a target on her back one way or another.”

“Which is why you put Damian in front of it?” Tim said.

“I trust Damien,” Bruce said, “To protect her. But I don’t want him to be biased against her because of her parents.”

“So, you’re putting him at risk, so that he can make friends?” Tim demanded, arms crossed.

Bruce took a deep sigh. “One day,” he said, “Lucy is going to have to confront where she’s come from. And the rest of us are too. I’m trying to give us all the best chance.” Bruce said, “Besides, Damian needs more friends other than Jon.”

Tim screwed up his face, then snorted. “Alright, old man,” he said, “I’ll go with your plan for now. But if something goes belly up, I reserve the right to at least one ‘I told you so.’”

“A fair compromise,” Bruce said, “What have you found about Joker’s movements?”

“He’s going quiet right now, which isn’t much like him,” Tim said, “But I think I’ve tied him to this fancy surgical robot that’s gone missing from Gotham Hospital.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s nothing mind-breakingly awful he can do with that,” Bruce said, sarcastically. “Let’s take it to the streets.”

Tim jumped up and followed him to the batmobile.

[crazyfreckledginger]

Batboys x Batsis!Reader - “Out Of The Dark” [Part 1]

Waiting desperately to be saved from a kidnapping, you end up being brainwashed to be used against your own brothers.

Requested by @flashdash626​: “Hi! I’m not sure if your taking requests, so if your not then you can choose to ignore this. Anyways! I was hoping you could do a Batsis were the sister is kidnapped by a random villain, and once the boys find her its to late and she was brainwashed and was now under control of the random villain. Once they like knock her out they bring her to the cave and try to bring her memories back. After a little bit of them talking to her her mind snaps and shes back to normal and she gets all emotional” 

A/N: I know how this looks, I was really inspired since I was stuck on another fic and ended up writing three parts to this I’m sorry T-T

Warning: angst, violence, swearing

Eyes fluttered closed as the sound of rails lulled her to sleep. University had been so tiring this week, having to finish a whole project by the end of the week, in which the guidelines had been given on Monday. A lot of preparation and running around in order to polish a well researched and thorough end result. 

The lack of sleep, tiring long hours and accumulated stress had finally left her body as soon as she handed in the work two hours before the deadline was scheduled. To say that fatigue had taken it’s toll on her was an understatement. 

For a Friday late afternoon, the train was quite empty heading towards Gotham, but then again, no one wants to go there willingly. Her eyes fluttered closed, mind numbing, it was still two stops into the city, each of which are more or less an hour long, she had time, even if it’s only a thirty minute- one hour nap at most. Too much sleep and it was disrupt -- or complicate her-return-to-normal-sleep schedule. 

 ~ I should be due at the mansion in just over two hours ~ 

A quick message wouldn’t hurt if there still need to be preparations. 

~ Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up? ~ DG

That was quick. Smiling, (Y/N) texted her older brother back. 

~ It’s okay, you're still busy, and I’ll be back before you’ve finished your work! ~

~ But we missed you! ~ DG

~ It’s been two weeks! Besides it’s the vacation, I’ll be home for a month or so. ~

~ Fine :( ~ DG

With a chuckle, she slipped her phone back in her inside pocket. A grown ass baby. 

Finally, she settled back into her seat, paying no mind to the occasional vibration of the carriage window to her head, inescapably submitting to sleep. 

When she finally woke up, it was at the end of the line, the carriages were empty, doors wide open, only the occasional person walking or sitting along the platform. 

Shit, the woman mentally cursed, grasping her things, and which, luckly, everything was still with her. Rushing out of the train, she scanned the screens: last train, departing in 2 hours and 30 minutes, Platform 8. The words glided along the end of the screen, in bright red dots. A disappointed sigh escaped her. At least it wasn’t late -- and dark. Well, the sun was setting. 

The last stop was at the outskirts of Gotham, so she was thankful that she didn’t have to cause too much trouble getting back. Despite her nap, she was still tired -- just less so, and she would really enjoy getting into a comfy bed in the company of her brothers, father and butler. 

A slightly irresponsible idea occurred to her. She could get home reaaaaally quickly if she wore her vigilante suit. The woman would be able to call her self-driving motorcycle and hurry to the Mansion in a record time. It was in her bag, and it’s not like it would hurt anyone. 

As long as she was careful when changing, this wasn’t going to threaten the reveal of her identity. 

With a smile, and making sure she held tightly onto the small bag she carried back with her, she briskly walked out of the train station, to an empty, dirty public bathroom.

Gross but will have to do. 

After having scanned the toilet for any lewd hidden cameras, she hastily slipped into her costume, placing her civilian clothes back in her bag and creeping out onto the nearest rooftop. Activating her tracking device and then the automated call, she sat down on the ledge, sighing in relief as she got the notification that her motorcycle just headed out. 

Now it was only a question of patience. Since nothing was happening, she lay down fully on the ledge, bag on the rooftop and arms under her head for more comfort. 

Her eyes closed, this time, not falling asleep, but listening to the nearly inheart environment surrounding her. 

That was until her phone vibrated. Sitting up, she reached for it, opening the message.

~ Where are you? I’m about to head home, but word is you’re not there yet. ~ DG

~ Yes, I missed the stop, called the Batcave, my ride should be here soon, sorry! ~

They must have been worried. 

Before she could answer, she heard quick footsteps trailing behind her. Her head snapped back but before she could distinguish anyone, the silhouette landed a hard blow to her head, which probably was a metal pole.

“Fuck.” she cursed in pain, her unlocked phone dropping off the ledge, sliding down the roof and landing in the gutter, “who are you!?” (Y/N) yelled standing up clumsily as the side of her head ached. 

“Lights out.” the unknown person grunted, lifting the pole high after dodging an attempted punch, slamming it to the back of her head. Her whole body smashed to the ground with violent force -- but it’s not something she felt, as she fell into unconsciousness.

****

“Where is she?” Bruce grumbled as Dick entered the Manor, an hour and a half later than planned, and after some exhausting, useless paperwork. 

“What’s happening?” he frowned, seeing Robin hurry down the stairs of the Batcave.

“(Y/N) was supposed to be due, the tracker on her motorcycle hasn’t moved and she isn’t answering her phone.” Jason geared up.

“I’m coming with you,” Dick scurried to the room with his suit, slipping into it.

“We’ll be on comms if anything comes up.” Tim nodded. 

It felt like a very long ride towards the location that was given to them, even though they got there very quickly. 

As Nightwing’s motorcycle stopped close to their destination, he hopped off, watching the tracker from the screen on his arm, zooming in to be able to pinpoint exactly where her last place was. 

Jason jumped onto the nearest rooftop, scouting the area in case it was a trap of sorts. He frowned, seeing that the coast was clear and signalling his brother his ‘go’ card. 

It must have been a good half an hour before they even found a clue -- excluding her untouched motorcycle. 

And it happen to make Red Hood jump out of his skin. Good thing Nightwing was still scouting the ground otherwise he would have been seriously embarrassed. 

The gutter buzzed, it was utterly unnerving. Cautiously,  he approached the roaring object, staring down at it as he spotted a phone. It was unlocked and vibrating widely. 

Crouching down, he grasped and inspected it.

(Y/N)’s definitely. And he didn’t like where this was going. It was Damian this time, calling her -- in addition to like 78 missed calls and numerous texts. 

“Found her phone, she’s definitely gotten kidnapped.” The man announced nonchalantly, but his heart was beating fast. Their sister? Kidnapped at an unusually early time of the night? Hours after she got back into Gotham? Someone must have been keeping an eye out and planning. 

And given the fact that nothing has come up, it might not be a usual Gotham criminal.

“We might have a problem.” Dick spoke through his comms.

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[witchygagirlwrites]

Jealous

Kevin starts to get jealous of your bond with Adam

When your phone vibrated on the nightstand you let out a groan pulling the blanket up over your head. “Babe you gonna get that?” Kevin asked voice full of sleep from behind you. “No” you practically growled turning over to bury your face in his bare chest in hopes of getting more sleep.

He chuckled looking down to see you were already back asleep and leaned over to grab your phone just in case it was Voight but saw it was a text from Adam. He didn’t want to pry into your phone because your business was your own he trusted you, especially with the boys from the unit so he went to lay it back but it buzzed with another text so he clicked on it and saw it read “Can you meet me for breakfast?”

Now that perked his interest just for the simple fact he knew Adam had taken you for lunch twice this week already. He knew the two of you were close but given the fact that you’d eaten lunch less with him this week and that Adam’s relationship with Kim was currently on the rocks it caused a twinge of jealousy to nip at the back of his mind but you nudging closer to him even in your sleep made those feelings quickly diminish. He laid your phone down and glanced at the clock seeing there was still another half hour before the alarm would go off so he laid his head back down next to yours.

—-

When the alarm did go off you let out a whine when Kevin pulled out of your grip which of course caused a laugh from him. “Come on beautiful. We gotta get up” you opened one eye and watched him walking into the closet and let out a low whistle. “Looking good there Atwater” you could hear his laugh as you finally drug yourself up out the bed.

When he came back out with clothes in hand you were sitting on the side of the bed in your jeans and bra with a shirt in your hand as you texted on your phone.

“Something wrong?” He asked laying his clothes down so he could start getting dressed. You shook your head and laid your phone down so you could finish getting ready “Naw that text was from Ruzek asking if I could meet him for breakfast but considering I wanted to sleep later I asked if he wanted to talk at lunch time”

“Again?” Kevin mumbled under his breath. “What you say baby?” You asked with a smile and he shook his head “nothing just Adam needs to leave some of your time for the rest of us”

His smile made it seem more joking so you laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips “Don’t worry baby I still have plenty of time for you”

—-

The first half of the day everything was business as usual. Voight sent you with Erin to talk to a few of your c.i.’s so that meant you were out the office most of the morning.

When the two of you made it back to the precinct you headed straight into Voights office to relay what information you’d gathered.

—-

A tip came in a little before noon that the dealer the unit was after was making a move. “Suit up and lets roll out” Voight barked heading down to roll up.

Kevin was helping Jay double check weapons and when he looked up saw Adam adjusting your vest and felt that same twinge of jealousy nip at him. It shouldn’t matter. Everyone double checked everyone’s vest but for some reason seeing Adam so comfortable touching you was bothering him and he didn’t know why.

Adam was his friend. One of his best friends and he trusted him with his life but over the last two weeks you’d been spending alot of your free time with Adam and that made his mind go places he didn’t want it to.

“Kev you good man?” Mouse asked bringing him back to reality as he handed him a comm. “Yea man I’m good”

—-

The takedown went smoothly enough. Only a few shots were fired and all of the unit made it out unscathed.

Once the interrogations were done, charges pressed and reports filed everyone was glad to call it a day.

—-

Kevin watched you as you walked over to Adam’s desk and sat on the edge of it to talk to him and once again felt that nip but Jay called his name and that pulled his attention.

He looked up in enough time to see you hugging Adam with a smile on your face and had to stop himself from throwing a punch.

—-

You walked back over to Kevin not noticing the annoyed look he was struggling so hard to swallow down.  He didn’t want to think that about you or Adam but body language was throwing him off seriously.

“You ready to go baby?” You asked sitting in his lap despite the wolf whistle from Erin. “You ain’t got nothing else to do?” He asked cutting his eyes at Adam who was wishing everyone a good night before heading to the stairs. “Nope I’m all yours” you answered and could’ve sworn you heard him say something along the lines of it being about time but you brushed it off and stood grabbing his hand before telling everyone goodnight.

—-

On the drive home Kevin’s anger at the possibility of something going on between you and Adam gave way to a sense of insecurity. Adam made you smile in the way that the corners of your eyes crinkled up, even on your worse days he’d say something stupid and pull a laugh of out you.

Maybe he hadn’t been paying enough attention to you? Maybe he had slipped in some way to lead you to find what you weren’t getting from him in Adam?

He knew you and Adam were close friends before he ever asked you out but damn Adam had been the one that helped to push the two of you together. Why would he want to come between what he’d helped to create?

—-

By the time you pulled up to his place you’d called Kevin’s name three times without him answering “huh?” He finally said and you shook your head “I said are you still flying out to see the kids next month?”

He half smiled “Yea. Why?” “I wanted to come with you. I miss them too and I’ve got a few vacation days they’re gonna make me take soon anyways”

“Yea that sounds good to me” he said with a smile.

The two of you headed for the door and you wondered where his mind seemed to be. All day he’d been a bit out of it expect when the unit was busting up those dealers. You were starting to worry about him.

—-

He was being paranoid. That had to be it. After all you were with him because you wanted to be and hell Adam never beat around the bush when it came to flirting.

He followed you up to the door and was about to follow you in when your phone started ringing. You glanced down and smiled “Give me one sec baby. That’s Ruzek” the smile that had worked onto his face dropped when you stepped back out onto the porch to finish the call.

—-

After hanging up with Adam you walked inside to find Kevin sitting on the edge of the couch drinking a beer “did you get me one?” You asked to get his attention but when he looked up you saw the distraught look on his face and his brother and sister were the first thing that popped into your head.

You dropped the teasing and rushed to him “Baby are the kids ok?”

“They’re fine” those two words calmed your heart from beating out your chest but you were still worried as to why your boyfriend looked so miserable.

“Then what’s wrong?” You asked sitting next to him and placing one hand on his leg. He looked down at your hand before covering it with his own “Can I ask you something and you tell me the truth?”

“Of course” you answered not taking your eyes off his. “Is there something going on between you and Adam?”

—-

You snatched your hand away from him like it was burnt “excuse me?”

He shrugged as if he hadn’t just accused you of cheating on him with a mutual good friend of both of yours.

“You and him have gotten awful close since him and Kim have hit their rocky patch”

You couldn’t believe your ears. You stood up and stared at him. “You know what maybe I’ll just go stay at my place tonight”

—-

Before you got to the door you felt Kevin’s hands on your waist “Baby wait”

You snatched away from him and spun around to face him. When he saw the tears in your eyes he knew he was wrong “If you want to know Kevin. I’ve been helping him get Kim back!”

“What?” He questioned taking a step back. You dug your phone out your jacket and pulled it up to the photos Adam had sent you of him, Kim, Her mom and his dad at a justice of the peace “They got married after work in a small ceremony”

—-

He flipped through the photos and felt a joy for both his friends but then the sinking guilt hit him.

“Sweetheart. I am so sorry” he tried to pull you into a hug but you snatched away “no Kev you don’t just say I’m sorry. First of all Adam is your boy. He loves you man. He’d never come at me like that. And even if Adam wasn’t who he is I am in love with you. That means I don’t want anyone else”

He froze when the words left your mouth “you love me?”

“Yes I love you!” You answered and a smile quickly spread across his face as he pulled you into his arms. “I’m sorry I ever thought that baby. I love you too and I’ve known how I feel for a while but didn’t know how to tell you then the thought of losing you was driving me crazy”

You pulled back from the hug long enough to lean up on your tip toes and press a kiss to his lips “I’ll forgive you this time”

A giggle escaped your lips when he lifted you up off the floor hands securely under your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist “what you mean this time? Baby girl there won’t ever be another time. I can promise you that”

[bymyside-fic]

Harmony (~7000 words) read on AO3 // AFF

- November 1, 2018 -

The scent of burnt something wafted into Jonghyun's bedroom, rousing him sooner than he would have liked. Frowning, Jonghyun sat up, looking around his disheveled room as his brain slowly -- very slowly -- came around to the idea that it was, in fact, morning.

Then there was a clatter in the kitchen. A muttered curse. And Jonghyun was suddenly much more alert, fumbling for his wand only to double back for his room when he realized he was quite naked.

Though granted, that might be enough of a shock for whoever the intruder was to scare them out without him having to use magic at all.

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants before he snuck back out, tiptoeing his way to the kitchen.

Something sizzled a bit too loudly, a very audible wince or whine just barely louder than it. Utterly confused now, Jonghyun brandished his wand and turned the corner, only to lower it a second later, his mouth agape.

Smoke billowed from a blackened pan on the stovetop. Coffee bubbled out of a cauldron the next burner over, spilling out onto the floor where -- Merlin's fucking beard -- Garcons stood lapping it up. Dishes filled this sink, other attempts at cooking, perhaps, and Taemin stood in the middle of it, spatula in hand, hair askew, and perspiration shining on his face.

"I just wanted you to know that I'm not usually this bad at cooking," Taemin said as Jonghyun hurried in, removing the pan from the stovetop and cooling it with a spout of water from the tip of his wand. "Don't get me wrong, I suck at it, but -- "

"It's okay," Jonghyun said as he pushed Garcons away from the coffee with his foot before siphoning it back into the cauldron, where the boiling brew was reducing by the second. "I'm shit at it too, that's why everything is enchanted to do it for me."

Taemin let out a long, quiet Oh as Jonghyun cleaned everything else up with a flick of his wand before stooping to gather up Garcons.

"Is coffee bad for dogs?"

"No clue."

"Where's Comme Des?" Taemin hummed in question, mopping the sweat off of his face with a kitchen towel. "The red one."

"Oh, uh, he was whining to go out so…"

Nodding, Jonghyun moved past him, opening the back door and finding Comme Des curled up on Kibum and Minho's back porch. He set Garcons down, the little ball of black fluff running over to his brother, bowing playfully before him, enticing him to play. Jonghyun sat on the back porch step, watching the pair of them run around the community garden.

A guest of nippy autumn wind reminded him that he was shirtless, causing him to shiver as a rash of goosebumps bloomed across his exposed skin. The back door opened and Jonghyun looked back, finding Taemin stepping down to join him on the porch, a sweatshirt in hand.

He passed it to Jonghyun, who leaned away to pull it on, then rocked back, his shoulder brushing against Taemin's. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem."

He stayed pressed against Taemin, the contact, however small, was pleasant. Peaceful, even. But maybe that was just the morning.

"Wait." Jonghyun swung his head around, looking incredulously at a confused Taemin. "Your flight!"

"Oh. Yeah, no that left hours ago," he said with a chuckle.

"Don't you…" he blinked rapidly, scooting away from Taemin so he could see him better. "Don't you need to go home?"

He grinned, eyes shining. "I've got two weeks of paid vacation time because I never take breaks. I already called my job to let them know I'll be here for a while." Jonghyun's mouth popped open, just barely, and Taemin's smile faltered. "If you don't want me to stay, that's okay, I understand."

What had been intended to be a single kiss, then a single night...turned into two weeks?

Whether it was a good idea or not, he still liked the thought. Because he liked Taemin, despite his being a Muggle -- or a No-Maj, or whatever the fuck. Would two spontaneously started weeks together be good for him? For both of them?

For his part, he was inclined to think so. If it didn't work out, then...what was the harm? A broken heart after only two weeks was nothing...comparatively.

“No, I think that should be okay.” Taemin relaxed beside him, and Jonghyun averted his eyes, turning his head to find the dogs again so he could hide his growing smile. “I guess I should go make us some breakfast, huh?”

“You’ll probably do better than I did.”

Jonghyun smirked, then schooled his expression as he looked back at Taemin. “Just relax out here with the dogs. I’ll call you in when it’s ready.” Taemin nodded, and Jonghyun grabbed his shoulder, hoisting himself up and heading back inside. “Wait, do you like coffee?” He looked over his shoulder at Jonghyun, nodding. “How do you usually take it?”

“Oh, uh…” His face scrunched in thought, and the word adorable crossed his mind. Maybe set up camp. Who’s to say? “I don’t remember. I just get it from a shop on my way into work.”

Jonghyun laughed. “I’ll let you doctor it up how you like, then.” And then he let the door close behind him.

Breakfasts were usually very simple fares for him, especially now that he didn’t live with the band anymore. Phillipe and Pierre were much better cooks than he ever was, which is why he couldn’t do much more than make some toast and scramble some eggs without the assistance of magic. So, once he got the coffee going, he started on the toast before grabbing the last of the eggs from the fridge.

Well, time to go grocery shopping again. He sighed heavily, then glanced at the door. Maybe Taemin would want to come with? He usually tagged along with Minho or Kibum or both of them, just so he wouldn’t have to brave the grocery store alone.

That, and their conversation usually drowned out the occasional Nebulous Stardust songs that would play throughout the store.

The toast popped up, startling the thought of his band out of his mind. He shook his head as he stirred the eggs for a few more seconds and took them off the heat, setting them aside so he could butter the toast and get plates for each of them. Then he poured the coffee and poked his head outside.

“Tae -- “ he started to call out, but then he stopped, grinning when he found him lying on the undoubtedly cold ground, the puppies clambering over him. “Breakfast is ready!”

Once Taemin stood, the puppies ran over to the open door and Jonghyun left it wide open for Taemin, who was a few steps behind, while he dished up their food and got them some water. Taemin was sitting at the counter sipping his coffee by the time Jonghyun returned, his plate before him. Jonghyun turned his back to him as he spooned some sugar in his own coffee.

“So, just out of curiosity,” Jonghyun said, gulping when Taemin hummed in question. “What exactly are you expecting to happen by the time you go home?”

Taemin coughed, and Jonghyun glanced over his shoulder before he twisted to face him, leaning against the counter and watching him expectantly. “I just...I don’t know...want to get to know you better. Is that okay?”

Jonghyun nodded, eyeing him as his attention returned to his meager breakfast. “What happens after, though?”

He smiled without looking up, then shrugged. “Whatever we want, I guess. We’ll just have to wait and see.” He looked up then, searching Jonghyun’s gaze before looking away.

Jonghyun sighed, then took a few more sips of his coffee before setting it aside. “I’ve, um, got to go grocery shopping later...would you like to go with me or would you rather stay here with the dogs?”

“I can come with you!”

“Let me just...oh, shit…” Taemin’s eyebrows shot up in question. “Your luggage. That’s probably still at the hotel, huh?”

“Oh, damn, I didn’t even think of that.”

Jonghyun snorted, cracking a half-smile when Taemin sighed in exasperation at himself. “We should probably go pick that up, too.” When Taemin just offered a sheepish grin, Jonghyun pushed away from the counter. “Let me just go get ready and we can head out.”

It didn’t take long for them to get ready to go. Jonghyun offered to let Taemin borrow some of his casual, No-Maj-passing clothes that Kibum had picked for him instead of donning the suit he had worn to the wedding. They were about the same size, Taemin a little lither than himself, so they fit fairly well. Jonghyun pulled on one of the old sweaters that Kibum’s grandma had knit for him that he kept charming to fit his now-adult body, a pair of jeans, and some boots. And, once the dogs' water was refilled, they were off.

“You don’t have to do the memory thing if we’re just coming right back, right?” Taemin asked as Jonghyun led him out of the wardrobe and into Madge’s shop on Canal Street.

“Nah, it should be fine. That’d probably get redundant,” Jonghyun said, waving to Madge as he led Taemin up the street. He looked curiously over their shoulders, no doubt searching for the ghost he couldn’t see. “Where’s your hotel again?”

“Uh…”

They ended up hailing a cab, since Taemin could only remember the address but not how to get there on foot, and Jonghyun was basically clueless when it came to No-Maj New York. When they arrived, Jonghyun roamed the lobby while Taemin got a new room key --he had misplaced his -- and packed up his stuff so he could check out.

Jonghyun, while he waited, found his way back to the piano. He sat at the empty bench, staring at the keys for a while before he raised his hands to let his fingertips graze them. He didn’t know much about playing the piano. Sure, he could pick out a tune and some of the chords that accompanied the melody, but the guitar had always been his preferred instrument, other than his voice. Still, he started to play. A simple melody, one that he had started to work the kinks out of in the final days of Nebulous Stardust.

“Sounds good,” someone said, startling Jonghyun enough to stop playing. He whirled around, finding Taemin staring at him in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to -- “

“It���s okay. Are you ready?”

He nodded, and together they went back outside, heading straight for Canal Street once more. Once they were through the Center and out onto the cobblestone lane of the Boulevard, Jonghyun stopped, grabbing his wand from his back pocket and laughing at Taemin’s wide eyes when he pointed the tip of it at his suitcase.

“What, you don’t want to lug this around the whole time we’re shopping, do you?”

“No…”

His eyes grew wider still when Jonghyun sent it flying away with a thought of /Depulso/ and his bedroom, his mouth popping slightly open as it disappeared around a corner. “Come on,” Jonghyun said, reaching for his hand and tugging him along toward the grocery store. “You can’t let them know you’re not a wizard, alright?” Taemin blinked several times, looking down at their joined hands until Jonghyun released his. “Technically, non-wizards aren’t allowed to be in wizarding communities. Or even know about them.”

“Okay, got it. Do you want me to hold that?” Jonghyun looked back at him as he grabbed the basket to carry his groceries in, then shook his head.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” he whispered as he pointed his wand at the basket, raising it easily to waist height and leaving it there.

Taemin gasped, all excited, then quickly schooled his expression as he looked around to make sure none of the other wizards noticed his reaction at such a simple spell. Jonghyun smirked, eyeing him for a second before he started forward, the basket on one side and Taemin on the other after he jogged to catch up to him.

Was he trying to be impressive? Perhaps. But, it wasn’t his fault that Taemin’s reactions were cute, okay?

“So,” he said once they reached the produce section. “Tell me about yourself.”

The shy, cute smile was back, and he looked around as Jonghyun grabbed a few oranges, then said, “I don’t know. There’s not much to tell.”

“Bullshit.”

Taemin licked his lips, smiling still, and for a second, Jonghyun let his gaze drop to them. The top lip was oddly shaped, he saw that now. Not that it was ugly. Nothing about Taemin was. It just…well, he found himself wanting to kiss him again, just to see if he could—

“Well, I guess, I’ve been into dancing all my life,” he said, the sound of his voice drawing Taemin away from his reveries. “My mom started my brother on it too, but he didn’t stick with it. I think she wanted girls if I’m being honest.”

“Why do you say that?”

Taemin shrugged, then laughed, stepping closer to one of the pots of baby mandrakes. “I think that turnip just glared at me.”

“Probably did,” Jonghyun said, slipping his hand around Taemin’s waist and guiding him away from the mandrakes before they started screaming.

“Anyways,” Taemin said, catching one of the dirigible plums before it floated away from its bin. “I wasn’t particularly interested in school, but I did okay. Mom was happy enough. My first,” he paused, squinting in thought, “sorta-boyfriend was one of my best friends, but I think we just spent too much time together. Broke up without telling our families about our relationship. We’re still friends, though.”

Still friends? Eh, guess he couldn’t fault him for that.

“I like his new boyfriend, though. Kinda quiet. Very funny. They suit each other.”

Jonghyun hummed, unsure of what else to say as he started for the dry goods section of the store.

“And then after I graduated, I went into the military.”

“Marines, like Minho?”

Taemin’s breathy laugh turned into a snort that drew a few of the passersby's attention. “God, no. I love myself too much for that. Military band for me.”

“What’d you play?”

He hummed, his brow furrowing as he read the moving labels on the soup cans Jonghyun was grabbing from the shelves. “Honestly? I can’t remember right now.” Jonghyun chuckled, glancing over at him with a smile. “After I got out, I went back to my old dance studio and they let me start instructing, which has been nice. Been doing that for a few years, now.”

“No other boyfriends since your first?”

Taemin shook his head. “Girlfriend, though.” Jonghyun blinked, doing a double-take as he looked back at him, but Taemin didn’t notice his surprise. “We broke up...what day is it?”

“Uh, first of November.”

“Right. Two months ago, then.”

Ah...so he must be the rebound then. He’d done the same with Pierre. Didn’t end well. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was too clingy, I guess. That’s what Danbi said, anyway.” He sniffed a laugh, pointing to one of the bottles of premade potion, a few lizard eyes floating within it. “Are those eyes?”

“Yes. Shh, let’s go.”

It became quite the chore, keeping Taemin from revealing that he was a No-Maj to the rest of the shoppers. Jonghyun grabbed whatever he could think of -- he rarely made a shopping list, but today, especially, he was in a hurry -- and they checked out, laden with bags on the way home. The puppies greeted them excitedly, pestering Jonghyun as he put away his groceries until Taemin drew them away to the living room.

Once Jonghyun finished putting everything away, he found the coiled leashes for Comme Des and Garcons, slipping them off the counter and shaking them to get the puppies' attention. He tossed the red one to Taemin, who fumbled with it, but caught it. “That one is Garcons’.”

The chill autumn wind whistled around him as they walked down the cobblestone lane. Everyone still had their decorations for Halloween out — because, in Salem Boulevard, they usually went up mid-August and didn’t get taken down until the first of December. Taemin was still excited, though he wasn’t talking as much anymore. Just looking around, eyes bright and wide, taking everything in.

He still wasn’t quite sure what to think of him. Did he like him? Yes, he was funny and cute and sweet with a mischievous, playful side. The exact opposite of Pierre. But, well, again, he wasn’t sure. Should he open his heart up to this…No-Maj? Should he open his heart again at all? That had only given him pain before…

Or, maybe it didn’t need to be that serious. A two-week fling with a cute guy with low odds for ever crossing his path again? Sounded ideal. Just what he needed.

His eyes landed on Comme Des, then drifted over to Garcons, the sight of them reminding him of their owners. He sighed heavily, his breath pluming around him. Yeah, okay, maybe he wanted what they had. So what? Not everyone gets what they want…

“Woah, what’s that?” Taemin asked, his fingers grazing Jonghyun’s arm as he reached for him.

Jonghyun looked around him to where he was pointing. “Remember those weird nectarine things that were floating in the store?” He nodded, meeting Jonghyun’s gaze before looking back at the wild bush with floating orange fruit. “Those are that. Dirigible plums.”

“Can we go look at them?”

Jonghyun smiled, he couldn’t stop himself. “Sure.”

Taemin kept pressing down on them, only for them to float back up, higher than they had been. Technically, they weren’t supposed to take any of the wild ones, but no one was around and Jonghyun was just too soft when Taemin turned his pleading eyes to him. They did, however, have a bit of a hard time concealing them in their pockets on the way home.

Dinner was simple, even with the help of the cookbook Kibum had bought for him ages ago, but Taemin didn’t seem to mind. He ate his fill, then a bit more when Jonghyun cut up the dirigible plums they had picked and tossed them over some vanilla ice cream. Maybe he should have cooked them? Kibum probably would have, but Jonghyun wasn’t sure if he had any ingredients for that. Taemin didn’t complain, though, which was nice of him.

When Jonghyun came back from letting the dogs out one last time, Taemin was nowhere to be found. The puppies followed him up to his room when he ran up the stairs, both of them hopping on the bed once he reached the top stair.

The shower was running.

Jonghyun relaxed, his gaze continually trailing back to the door as he stripped out of his jeans and sweater. By the time he had slipped into his sweatpants, the water turned off. He froze, unsure of where to stand or look until the door cracked open and Taemin stepped through.

His damp hair clung to his forehead, and he grinned at Jonghyun as his hand settled on the towel wrapped around his hips. “Sorry, were you planning on showering?”

“Uh, no.” He gulped, his mouth suddenly dry as Taemin breezed past him, a hint of his musky body wash buffeting him. “I shower in the mornings.”

“Hm, should I have waited, then?”

He asked it so quietly that Jonghyun couldn’t be sure if he imagined it. Eyebrows raised, he followed Taemin’s progress into the room to where his suitcase lay by the bed. Ah, his cheeks and ears were a bit pink. Jonghyun smiled, looking away. Adorable.

“You don’t mind sharing a bed, do you?” Jonghyun asked as he turned and went inside the bathroom, raising his voice as he wet his toothbrush. “I wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

He started brushing his teeth, jumping when Taemin appeared in the doorway. Their eyes met in the mirror. “I,” he cleared his throat. “I don’t mind at all.”

Jonghyun stopped brushing his teeth, pulling out his toothbrush just long enough to say, “Give me a minute,” before he continued.

Taemin was snuggled under the covers, hair and eyes and nose peeking out, by the time Jonghyun left the bathroom. Both of the dogs were curled up on the bed between his side and Taemin’s, making themselves quite at home. Sighing, Jonghyun crawled into the left side, flopping over on his back. He blinked a few times before he turned his head, amused to find Taemin watching him.

“Ready for the light?” Taemin nodded, and Jonghyun reached for his wand. “Nox!”

The lights winked out, blanketing them in velvety darkness.

“Can you do that again?” Taemin whispered into the night.

Since he had yet to find a counter jinx to the effect that Taemin’s excited interest had on him, Jonghyun relented, lighting and darkening the room a few more times until Garcons got up, barking at him.

Jonghyun set the wand aside, the darkness warm against his skin. He could barely make out Taemin’s silhouette in the pale moonlight streaming through the window. As he turned and dislodged Comme Des from his makeshift bed on his legs. He seemed to be hesitating. But why?

He sniffed in surprise when something damp and cold rested against his arm. Taemin stiffened beside him. “Sorry, I forgot…”

Did he want to cuddle? Or, something like that?

Jonghyun blinked rapidly, shifting closer to him. “It’s okay, I’m expecting it now.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the sheets and covers rasped together, and Taemin’s damp head rested on his shoulder, his arm draping across his middle.

He’d never really been held in bed before. Not even by Pierre. Sure, they slept beside each other for many years, and occasionally Pierre would indulge him, but it never lasted that long. When he was sure that Taemin had no intention of releasing him, Jonghyun slipped his arm around him, holding him closer still. And for the first time in living memory, he was asleep in moments.

When he woke, Taemin was still holding him. Still asleep. Maybe he was a little too warm, but right now, he couldn’t care less. Jonghyun looked down at Taemin’s sleeping profile, his thumb stroking lazily back and forth on his back. The urge to kiss the top of his head grew the longer he watched him, and before he could stop himself, he indulged the urge. Taemin’s face scrunched up a little, and he held Jonghyun a little tighter, but he didn’t wake.

He needed to get up, to get ready to head into work, to let the dogs out, but he couldn’t bring himself to detach Taemin from his side. Jonghyun shifted slightly, grabbing his phone. He had an hour and a half before he had to be at work, so hopefully, Taemin would wake himself up naturally before then.

Minutes ticked by, and nothing. Should he just get up? Leave Taemin to sleep peacefully while he got ready? He checked his phone again. One hour until work. He closed his eyes, sighing as he set his phone aside. Then he carefully extracted himself from Taemin.

“Where are you going?” Taemin mumbled once he reached the closet. He was sitting half up now, leaning on his elbow and rubbing his eye as he looked at Jonghyun.

“I have to get ready for work,” Jonghyun said, crossing the room to return to him. To kiss him good morning. As soon as he pulled away, Taemin blinked sleepily, his gaze searching his. “I can come back to check in on my lunch break,” he said as Taemin’s attention dipped to his lips. Jonghyun smiled. “Does that sound okay?” Taemin nodded, and Jonghyun kissed him again, lingering longer than he intended when Taemin’s hand slipped around his neck, holding him there.

In the back of his mind, he knew he had to get ready to leave, but there was something so addicting about him. He barely registered crawling back into bed, his only thought was of Taemin. And his lips and the way his kisses grew ever hungrier. His hands and the way they roamed his skin, holding him closer. Only when the alarm on his phone went off did Jonghyun pull away, and he stared blankly at it before he realized what it meant.

“Shit,” he muttered, and Taemin stopped kissing his neck, meeting his gaze when he looked back at him. “I really gotta get ready.”

With a great effort, he slipped out of Taemin’s arms and hurried to his closet, picking clothes at random. “I wish I could come with you.”

Jonghyun snorted, glancing over at him as he changed out of his sweatpants and into a pair of jeans. “Please, I need to be at least a little focused on work today.”

“Are you saying I’m distracting?”

He huffed a quiet laugh as he pulled on his boots and Taemin grinned. “You don’t mind looking after the dogs for me, do you?” Taemin shook his head and Jonghyun stood, walking over to kiss him one last time. “I’ll see you at lunch, then.”

While he did go home for lunch, he forgot all about the actual meal.

They fell into a rhythm, then, as the days passed. Each moment they spent together felt more natural and relaxed than the last. He’d gotten used to Taemin’s shyness, his clinginess. In fact, he couldn’t imagine why his ex had broken up with him because of it. Well, in any case, he was grateful to her. He hadn’t realized how much he had been craving someone like this. How had he stayed with someone as aloof as Pierre for so long? Obligation, perhaps?

Taemin was warm and friendly and funny and adorable when Pierre...well, actually, now that he was thinking about it, he couldn’t remember much about him. Especially when Taemin was around. Even the good points. True, he’d never be truly free of him. Pierre was a stain on his life that would linger in the back of his mind forever, but Taemin...Taemin filled his mind with such light that even thoughts of Pierre were fleeting when before they would linger long past their welcome.

When Monday rolled back around and it was time for him to go to work after the weekend off, Jonghyun could feel Taemin’s scrutiny as he got ready for work. He finally looked back at him after he pulled his head through the neck hole of his sweater, smiling at Taemin’s slightly forlorn expression. “Don’t look at me like that, you know I have to go to work.”

“It’s dumb.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” Taemin sighed, then smiled up at him as he returned to the bed to kiss him goodbye. “I’d rather not leave you either.”

“Then can I come with? Just until lunch?” he added quickly when Jonghyun’s brow furrowed. “You won’t even know I’m there, I promise.”

Doubtful, to be honest. But his track record for refusing Taemin anything in the few days that he had known him was not great. At all.

“Get ready quick, then, if you -- “ He didn’t even get a chance to finish. Taemin bounded out of bed and over to where his clothes hung in the closet.

After the dogs were cared for and they had a quick breakfast, they were on their way to the Center, Taemin’s hand slipping into his as soon as the door was closed behind them. Jonghyun swung their hands back and forth as they walked along, feeling warm despite the chilly autumn morning.

As with his experience with everything having to do with magic thus far, Taemin was extremely interested in whatever Jonghyun was doing up until lunch. Even when he was simply handwriting the labels and receipts for the different potions Crow made. He kept having to keep him from getting too near the spouts for the venomous tentacula. Sure, they were small, but somehow that made them even more vicious.

Still, it was cute to watch him interact with it all. Growing up around all of this, he never really thought too much about how amazing it must seem to an outsider. True, he reacted similarly whenever Minho -- or now, Taemin, as well -- showed him or explained a part of the No-Maj world that he’d never heard of before. He was just so amazed by what Jonghyun considered to be the simplest things. He kinda hoped that would never wear off.

“You ready for lunch?” Jonghyun asked as he wrote his clocking-out time down.

Taemin, who was absorbed in the copy of the Oracle that Jonghyun had translated into Korean for him, didn’t hear him until he asked again. “Yeah! Sorry…”

“It’s okay.” Jonghyun slipped out of his apron and came around the counter, holding his hand out for Taemin to take so he could lead him up to the food court.

He let Taemin choose where they went for lunch, which was -- yet again -- the sushi bar. They ate their fill, but still had a bit of time before Jonghyun had to be back to work, so they roamed the shops, Jonghyun explaining some of the magical tools and instruments that Taemin pointed out. That was until Taemin pulled him toward the music shop, which usually sat out of sight from the apothecary behind the Grated Tree.

Taemin looked up at the display window, watching the instruments play a symphony all on their own. Their music bled out from the closed door, the harmonies drawing them closer to it. Without asking, Taemin opened the door, peering in before he opened the door wider and slipped inside. After a second’s hesitation, Jonghyun followed him.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he wandered around, following Taemin over to where the pianos were. After getting permission from one of the employees, Taemin started to play, his music drowning out the symphony from the display window. Eventually, Jonghyun meandered away, finding the guitars. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze landed on one in particular.

It was nothing special. Just your standard acoustic guitar. But, it looked almost exactly like the one Mom had bought him ages ago.

The one that he had left behind when he moved here.

His hand shook a little as he reached for it, gently taking it off its hook. He slipped the shoulder strap around him, getting comfortable, one hand holding the neck, the other poised to pluck the strings.

Had it been too long? He hadn’t touched a guitar in years. Would he remember how to play?

Tentatively, he pressed a chord into the fingerboard, his thumb strumming the strings. It was in tune, at least. He closed his eyes as he played another chord, then another, and soon, he was playing one of his old songs. The band hadn’t agreed on it, so it had gotten scrapped. He hadn’t even come up with a title for it, but somehow, he remembered it. He hummed along until the end, most of the lyrics forgotten.

When he opened his eyes, he found Taemin leaning against the shelves across from him, watching him. Jonghyun gulped, pulling the strap over his head. “No, don’t stop because of me, please. That was beautiful.”

“I have to get back to work.”

His fingers ached, the familiar calluses long gone, as he put the guitar back on its hook. They left without purchasing anything, and Jonghyun walked him to the Center’s exit, kissing him goodbye before he trudged back to the apothecary.

It was almost as if the music shop were staring at him, daring him to come back inside.

He was only able to ignore it for a few days, but then his resolve broke when Crow handed him his paycheck. As soon as he cashed it in, he withdrew enough to purchase the guitar. He practically ran home, the case swinging back and forth beside him.

“Look what I bought!” he said as soon as he toed his wet boots off and shook the rain out of his hair. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs!”

Taemin was almost as excited as he was when he showed him the guitar, and as soon as he was able to start dinner cooking itself, he camped out on the couch, his legs thrown over Taemin’s, and started working on tuning /his/ guitar.

“What was that song you played before?”

“One of mine. The band didn’t like the lyrics so we never used it.”

Taemin started tickling one of his feet until Jonghyun twitched it out of his reach, glaring at him before looking back at his guitar with a small smile. “Why didn’t they like them?”

“They have bad taste.”

“Clearly.” Jonghyun sniffed a laugh, digging his heel into Taemin’s thigh when he tried to start tickling his foot again. He stopped, grinning impishly at him as he shook his head. “Do you remember the lyrics?”

“Some of them. It’s been a while.” He could feel Taemin’s expectant gaze, so he found the chord that started the chorus on the fingerboard. “Such a beautiful view...and then someone is supposed to adlib, but I don’t remember what...Show me more...” Feeling slightly self-conscious, he stopped playing, his palm pressing against the strings to quiet them.

When he looked up, Taemin immediately dropped his gaze, helping Garcons up onto the couch. Jonghyun leaned forward to scratch him behind the ears as he curled up between them. “I know you said it’s hard to get back into music because of your ex, and,” he cleared his throat, “I get that. But…” He looked up then, meeting Jonghyun’s curious gaze. “I really hope you’ll be able to soon.”

“I think you’re just being nice. Because you like me so much.”

Taemin grinned sheepishly, fiddling with a string on the hem of Jonghyun’s jeans. “It’s possible, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

After dinner, Jonghyun returned to the couch with his guitar and Taemin kept Comme Des and Garcons occupied on the floor. He had grabbed one of his self-inking quills and a new sheet of parchment so he could jot down whatever lyrics came to mind as he messed around with the old tune. He was underlining a line he especially liked when he thought he heard one of the puppies yelping. He jumped up, his guitar set aside, when he realized that it was Taemin who had made that noise.

He was backing away into the kitchen, his eyes on a spot on the carpet, his face contorted in a fearful grimace until he looked up to find Jonghyun watching him. His face colored and he looked back at the carpet. “I know it’s dumb, but...but I’m terrified of bugs.”

“Bugs?” He nodded earnestly, still not looking up. Jonghyun stepped over Comme Des on his way to the kitchen where he had left his wand. To be honest, he was no fan of bugs either, but at least he didn’t have to touch them to get rid of them. “What kind was it?”

“Spider,” Taemin said, shuddering.

Jonghyun grabbed his wand and looked back to where Taemin had been. Garcons was sniffing the carpet, so Jonghyun made his way over, and sure enough, a large disgustingly hairy black spider was making its way across the thick shag carpet. Jonghyun winced as he wordlessly flicked his wand at it, levitating it. “Get out of the way, babe,” he said to Taemin, who darted back across the room and as far away from the floating spider as he could. Jonghyun took it to the back door, flinging it out into the night.

He closed the door, looking back at Taemin. He was sitting in the spot that Jonghyun had vacated, watching him with wide eyes. Jonghyun smiled reassuringly, then tapped the door with the tip of his wand and said “Reverbaro!”

A ring of light bloomed from the spot his wand tip touched, growing and growing until it consumed the kitchen, the living room, then disappeared up the stairs.

“What did you do?” Taemin asked, his voice a little hoarse.

“That’s a repelling charm,” Jonghyun said, setting his wand back down on the counter before he started for the couch. “It’ll keep any bugs away for a very long time.” Taemin’s mouth was slightly agape as he watched Jonghyun settle back on the couch and take up his guitar again. He was about to start playing again when he still felt his gaze, so he met his eyes. “What?”

“Can you come and do that at my place?”

“Sure. Just name the time.”

He strummed a few chords, glancing over at him and doing a double-take when he saw his incredulous expression. “Where have you been all of my life?”

“Oh, around. I’m here now, at least.” He set his guitar aside with a chuckle, then glanced up at Taemin, half-grinning. “You know, I might have to come over pretty often, to check on the charm once it's in place, you know. Make sure it’s still working for you.”

For a second, Taemin looked as if he were about to say something, but he changed his mind, deciding instead to kiss him. Much later, when all was dark and tranquil and they were still tangled together in Jonghyun’s bed, Taemin’s voice, soft and tentative, broke the silence.

“Would you really want to come over?” he asked, his fingertips grazing Jonghyun’s arm as he held him close. “To Korea, I mean. After I go home.”

“Of course I do.” The silence seemed to smile, and Jonghyun pressed a kiss to Taemin’s head. “I wish you didn’t have to go if I’m being honest. I kinda like having you around.”

“I kinda like being around you, too.”

“You just like me because I’ll take care of the bugs for you.” Taemin let out a breathy chuckle, then brought their joined hands up to kiss the back of Jonghyun's hand. “When does your flight leave?”

“At seven. Which means I should get there at five.”

Jonghyun stretched out, grabbing his phone. “It’s two-fifteen now. We should probably try to sleep.”

“Or…” Or? Jonghyun’s eyebrows rose as he set his phone back down. “I mean, who knows how long it will be until we see each other again…”

He sniffed a laugh as he rolled over, bracing himself around Taemin. Even in the faint moonlight, he could see the eagerness, the playfulness in Taemin’s eyes. “So, what you’re saying is that you can sleep on the plane.”

“That and we’re wasting our precious time, don’t you think?”

They did not, in fact, sleep at all. But then, Jonghyun would never complain about that.

Getting Taemin ready for the airport was peppered with yawns and lingering kisses. They only had to go back to the house twice for things that Taemin forgot, but then they were off, not holding each other’s hand only when Taemin loaded and unloaded his luggage from the taxi and when he went up to the front desk to check his bag. He plodded sleepily back over to Jonghyun once he was free of his luggage, melting into his open arms.

“I don’t wanna go,” he murmured as they swayed a little together.

“I’ll be there before you know it.” He nodded, then sighed before he tore himself away from Jonghyun. “Let me know when you get home, alright?” Jonghyun said just before Taemin leaned in to kiss him.

“I will.” He kissed him again, then again when Taemin was back in his arms. “I guess I should go.”

“If you must.”

Sighing again, Taemin slipped away, waving goodbye before turning his back on him and starting for security. Then he stopped in his tracks, turning on his heel. Jonghyun’s eyebrows rose in curiosity when he came back to him. “What’d you forget?”

“Not me. You.” He hummed in question. “The memory charm thing. You forgot to do that when we left the Boulevard.”

Oh right. Huh.

“Well, maybe I wanted you to remember everything.” Taemin’s concern melted away to fondness, and he smiled as Jonghyun pulled him into one last kiss. “See you later, babe.”

“Yeah, see you.”

He grinned, his eyes glimmering in the airport lights, and he turned, hurrying now for the line leading to security. Jonghyun watched him until he slipped past the security barrier and was gone. He could feel himself start to deflate a little as he turned away, trodding back toward the exit.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Jonghyun dug it out, finding that Taemin texted him. He stopped walking, opening the message.

[5:06 am]

I can’t wait for you to come over We’re gonna have so much fun

Jonghyun smiled, glancing back over his shoulder to the security barrier. But before he could respond, Taemin sent a picture. A very unflattering picture, with his eyes wide with a weird expression, his chin pulled back to give him several double chins.

Look at how attractive your boyfriend is

Boyfriend...Jonghyun smiled at his phone screen, his heart fluttering. Yeah, he had to agree with him there.

You’re such a nerd

When Taemin didn’t respond right away, Jonghyun started walking again, saving the picture as he did. He’d set it to Taemin’s contact picture when he got home. After Kibum and Minho got back, he’d be heading straight to the Portkey Approval Office at the Center so he could head over to Korea on his next weekend off.

Actually, he was pretty sure that he and the clerks at the PAO were about to become very familiar with each other.

[enchantedlokii]

The New Generation

Chapter One

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Characters: Peter Parker, Cassie Lang, Shuri, Lila Barton, Harley Keener, EDITH, Morgan Stark, FRIDAY, James Rhodes

Mentioned: Nick Fury, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Thor Odinson, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Scott Lang, T’Challa, Wanda Maximoff, May Parker, Ben Parker, Pepper Potts

There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people. So when we need them, they could fight the battles that we never could. This idea was known as the Avengers Initiative; the brainchild of a man named Nick Fury. The Director of SHIELD.

The world saw the Avengers in action for the first time in 2012 when an alien army known as the Chitauri attacked New York City. It started with six heroes whose names will never be forgotten.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. The World War II super soldier had been frozen in a crashed plane for seventy years when he was found by a SHIELD team. He’s known best for his shield, and only a few know that he is one of the few that have been deemed worthy to wield Mjolnir.

Tony Stark. Iron Man. Born into a wealthy family and given ownership of a multi billion dollar company at a young age. For years he manufactured weapons before seeing the war zones in Afghanistan. Instead, he started making suits to help fight against those who wanted nothing but war.

Thor Odinson. God of Thunder. An Asgardian warrior with the power of lightning. His hammer, Mjolnir, is one of the most powerful weapons in all the nine realms. His new axe, Stormbreaker, is even more powerful. Making him stronger than before.

Bruce Banner. Hulk. He was changed on accident after exposure to gamma radiation. For years he was seen as a monster, but he was deemed a hero after being recruited to join the Avengers. Over time, he’s learned to control his strange power and can finally trust himself.

Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow. The Russian spy trained in a place known as the Red Room. She became their master assassin, earning her mantle and following their orders until she was rescued by a SHIELD agent who was sent to kill her but decided she should be given a chance.

Clint Barton. Hawkeye. He was the SHIELD agent who decided Natasha deserved a chance. Skilled with a bow and having perfect eyesight and aim, he never misses his target. He watches from the sky, keeping his teammates safe from the enemy.

Every kid wanted to be an Avenger when they grew up. It was the dream of so many to fight by their side and help protect the world. I got lucky enough to be one of the few who will ever have that dream come true.

“Cassie, where you at?” Peter called over his communicator. He was stuck to the side of the Empire State Building, watching as his friends fought with the army of drones. It was always drones.

“Right here!” Cassie grew larger, kicking one of the drones out of the air before waving at Peter. There was only a second before she shrunk down again, flying away to the next enemy.

That’s Cassie Lang. Stinger. Her father is Scott Lang, Ant-Man, as you can probably see from her Pym Technology. She was just a kid when her father gained the mantle, but says she knew immediately that she wanted to be like him when she was older. Now, she’s a valuable member of the Avengers.

“I’m going to have to add wings to this suit,” Shuri huffed as Peter swung down beside her, shooting a web at the drone she had pinned to the ground. He couldn’t see her face because of the Black Panther suit, but he guessed that she was slightly annoyed but also thinking about ways to make that idea a reality.

“Pretty sure cats don’t fly, Shuri,” Peter chuckled as she stood up, the claws on her hands retracting into the suit. “But I would happily help you make that happen.”

Queen Shuri. Black Panther. Sister of King T’Challa. Shuri was already a warrior as a princess, helping fight alongside the Dore Mijae and her brother when Wakanda was in danger. When her brother died, she took over his mantle, promising to make him proud.

“Hey, I want wings,” Lila protested. Peter actually had no idea where she was at the moment, but he would see an arrow flying through the air every now and then and knew she was fine. “Shouldn’t Hawkeye get to fly before Black Panther?”

That’s Lila Barton. Hawkeye. Daughter of Clint Barton. Clint was not happy when he learned that Lila wanted to join the Avengers, but he knew he couldn’t stop her. In a lot of ways, she was just like him. She was determined and stubborn, and this was something she had always wanted. Even before she picked up her first bow.

“How many drones ‘re left, Parker?” Harley called. Peter could hear the whirring of his repulsors through the comms. He was a bit farther away, chasing drones that had gotten past them.

Harley Keener. Iron Lad. An engineer from Tennessee. You can probably tell from his accent he comes from Nashville. He lives in New York now, but I doubt his twang will ever fade completely.

“Hey, EDITH,” Peter murmured, glancing at the screen on the inside of his mask. He could still see dozens of red dots on the map, signifying battle drones. He was silently grateful that he had his AI with him this time. And his teammates. “How many drones are left?”

“I’m seeing around fifty active drones,” EDITH replied. “Are you sure I don’t need to call in Ms. Maximoff for backup?”

“No, let Wanda have her vacation,” Peter told her, shooting a web at the nearest drone. “She deserves it.”

And that’s me. Peter Parker. Spider-Man. I was only fourteen when I was bitten by a radioactive spider that gave me these crazy powers. I kept it a secret for six months before I came home from school and found my Aunt May talking to Tony Stark in our living room.

Being an Avenger had been my dream for years. I remember watching them fight on TV as a kid, begging Aunt May and Uncle Ben for more and more toys and Avengers pajamas. I never imagined that I would have that I would not only meet my hero but be asked to fight alongside him.

Peter heard a repulsor blast and a nearby drone exploded. He looked up, planning to see Harley’s white-and-orange suit, but frowned when he saw the faceplate of a gold-and-red suit lift. “Hi, Peter!”

Morgan Stark. Fourteen year old daughter of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. My pseudo sister. She started working on that suit when she was eight. I helped her in secret, knowing that Pepper would kill me if she ever found out.

“Morgan! What are you doing here?” he asked, shooting a web at another drone and bringing it to the ground. He heard Morgan firing up a repulsor again and groaned with frustration. “Your Mom’s going to kill you. Go home. Now.”

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Morgan started.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Peter told her. He suddenly found himself trying to go back to a spaceship on its way to Titan and shook his head. Not now.

“I was gonna stay home—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Peter said sternly. He knew that the girl would just keep talking. She always did, especially when she was nervous. Usually he would just tease her for it but in the suit she already reminded him so much of her dad that it hurt.

“But FRIDAY said that you were fighting with the team and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. . .”

“And now I gotta hear it,” he sighed.

“And, I mean, you helped me make the suit.” Morgan looked at one of the gauntlets before shrugging. “So if anything, it’s your fault I’m here.”

Anyone would think we’re actually related. God, was I really this annoying? “What did you just say?” He asked, voice stern. He could imagine Morgan’s eyes widening behind the mask like his had.

“I take that back,” she said quickly. “But seriously. I’m here now, so just let me fight. Please, Petey. I want to fight.”

“No, Morgan. Go home,” Peter growled, turning as his Spider-Sense warned him of a drone coming towards them. He shot a web and threw it to the ground. “You’re fourteen. You can’t just come out here and fight. You’re not an Avenger.”

“You were only fourteen when Dad asked you to fight!” Morgan protested. “And you weren’t an Avenger either. So why is it any different for me?”

“Because I have powers to keep me safe and I had practice fighting everyday criminals before I fought anything like this,” Peter told her. “As amazing as these suits are, you can still get hurt in them. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen. I don’t want you to end up in the hospital or paralyzed because you’re so stubborn.”

Peter heard a repulsor firing up at the same time as his Spider-Sense went off. He looked over to see a drone coming at Morgan, then saw an orange beam blasting it away. The only problem? It didn’t come from Morgan’s suit. He winced and turned to the side. Sure enough, he saw a familiar silver suit. “You kids have some serious explaining to do.”

[shreddedparchment]

Shattered Glass Pt.03 - Final

Broken Hearts

07/15/2019

Pairing: Tony x Reader, Steve x Reader   Word Count: 6,447

Masterpost    Warnings: smut, language, ANGST, heavy drinking, neglect

A/N: This was a ride. I don’t end many fics this way but this one felt right. I think next time I write a Tonycentric fic I’ll make sure that Pepper isn’t in it in the way she was in this one. I’ll definitely need to do another Tony fic. This began as part of @moonbeambucky ‘s challenge. Again, I just pounded this thing out. Forgive any errors. I didn’t edit this AT ALL. I’ll need to come back. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“What happened to your arm?” Nat gasps, quickly moving forward to relieve you of the bulking suitcase you’re carrying and the one Tony’s sliding behind him.

“It’s my fault.” You tell her, cheeks burning as you remember your recklessness.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait for my signal, Princess. I’ll go in from the left. You go in from the right. We take them out a section at a time and work our way into that final bunker. I’m sure the big cheese is in there. Waiting like a moldy lump of gorgonzola.” Tony whispers into your comm.

“Doesn’t that just mean it’s ripe?” You check but you become distracted as the head honcho himself. “Tony, isn’t that-?”

“Son of a bitch.” Tony mutters, recognizing the bearded man. His olive skin, dark graying hair, dark eyes. He’s scarred on one side of his face, his right arm useless and held in a sling. “That’s the asshole that held me in a cave for three months.”

Abu Bakaar. You know him only from the briefs in the files that Tony has.

“How the hell is he still alive?” Tony growls.

You can hear the hate in his voice, the fear. “I can get him, Tony. Before he escapes again.”

“What? No. Stick to the plan.”

“He’ll get away.” You complain.

“Y/N, stick to the plan.”

“I’m going in after him.” And you dive forward, your target set, your path unknown.

“Shit, no!” Tony yells and with no other choice, he follows you into the lion’s den.

~~~~~~~~~

“Why didn’t you two ask for backup?” Nat chastises as Sam and Steve wander in from the hallway that leads to the gym.

They both stop as they spot the pair of you, moving towards you both like Nat did, with concern in their eyes.

“What happened?” Steve asks, noticing the sling holding Tony’s arm.

You bite your lip, then reach up to bite your thumb’s nail as you fuss over his injury. If you hadn’t been stupid, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

“I’m fine.” Tony insists. “Let’s just get this debrief over with so that I can go take many, many pills.”

Sam and Steve move up towards the long tables where debriefs usually occur.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you call Vision and Wanda?” Nat asks and doesn’t care to hear a response knowing the A.I. will do as she asks.

She’s already rushing to set up the computer.

“Tony…” You begin, moving towards him and reaching out for his uninjured hand.

He holds it up, stopping you, giving you no chance to grab his hand.

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He insists.

When he drops his hand, you reach for it again, but he moves away from you, trailing up towards the table and taking a seat at the opposite head so that he can look at the large display without obstruction.

You linger by the steps, wringing your hands as a black hole begins to settle in the base of your stomach.

You sit to Tony’s right, staring at him in search of the soft cuddly man from the island.

Even after his injury he’d been so sweet with you, caressing your head as you set his arm—just a dislocated shoulder but it really hurt so you’d put it in a sling to force him not to use it—as he assured you that he was fine.

He won’t even look at you now.

You meet Steve’s eyes, sitting across from you, and find him frowning. Eyebrows drawn together as he watches the way you slide your hand towards Tony’s, but he pulls it away making a show of scratching the back of his head or adjusting the sling on his arm.

Your ears burn when you see Steve notice this and quickly pull your hands down into your lap and divert all of your attention to the display.

You’re not listening as Tony explains the layout of the base and the different outposts. He talks about the initial scouting you two did and you remember all the romance in the moments between it. The touches. The escapes to your room and the sex among glittering seafoam crested waves. Soft spoken promises of devotion.

“Y/N?” Steve calls, pulling your mind back to the present.

“What?” You ask, startled.

“Bakaar? Tony says you saw him get away?” Steve asks, his fingers rapping on the table.

He’s tense. He’s trying to hide it but you can see it on him.

“I uh…” You glance at Tony and find his chocolate browns almost black as he stares you down, frowning lightly because of course he can see you analyzing Steve.

You scoot closer to him and reach under the table, stroking the thick muscle of his thigh but he clears his throat and gets up, pacing to the railing behind him to lean against.

“Yeah. He was on a boat and out of sight before we could follow. It was my fuck up. If I’d waited like Tony wanted to, we might have had him.” You confess, hating yourself for screwing this up.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.” Steve assures you and maybe it’s because you and he haven’t really talked since your split but you’re grateful for his kindness and give him a small smile.

“It really was.” You promise him.

“Alright, he got away. We’ll keep an out for him. F.R.I.D.A.Y. send up all the usual red flags to all the big wigs. Get those satellites scanning. Find Bakaar.” Tony orders.

“Right away, boss.”

“Good? Okay. Nobody bother me. I’ll be drunk and drugged up in my room.” Tony announces then moves off towards the stairs.

You watch him as he goes, a small rise of panic in your chest at his upset with you. “If I can do anything, please let me know.”

Nat gives you a nod as she gathers up the mission reports and slides them to Steve, shutting off the computer as you rise. “Will do.”

You turn and scamper after Tony, eager to mend whatever break you’ve caused. “Tony?”

Steve waits for it, for their commentary on the way you seem to dote on Tony’s moods. He’s waiting for Sam to point out that you must have really fucked up in order for Tony to be so cold when he’s really only ever been full of affection for the woman he’s with.

An arm around their waist, hand holding, winks, even the occasional kiss on the cheek.

He can see that you and Tony have started seeing each other. It’s in the way you move, the looks you give him. It’s why Steve had stepped aside.

The moment Tony had told him that things with Pepper were going belly up, he knew that he’d eventually have to step aside so that you could have what you finally wanted.

Tony wanted you too, Steve has known that for a long time. Letting you go had been hard. He still wants to give in, go back to you, claim you as his own but he can’t because you want Tony.

He’d thrown himself into Betsy’s affections and that’s where he’s been for the past month.

So, the fact that Sam and Nat, Wanda and Vision already up and gone don’t comment on your anxiety throws him.

“What’s going on with them?” He asks and waits for one of them to answer.

“Vision and Wanda? They’re always like that. If you ask me, someone should have a talk with them about keeping the PDA a little more behind closed doors.” Sam complains.

Nat smirks. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t had a date in six weeks.”

“Four. Four weeks. Stop telling people it’s six weeks. That coffee with that nurse in the mess hall counts.” He says, pointing at Nat as she turns to look at Steve with that same smirk.

“What are you worrying about now?” She asks him, noticing the pucker between his eyes.

“I didn’t mean Vis and Wanda, I’m talking about Tony and Y/N.” Steve clears up, pulling the reports closer to adjust into a neater pile.

“Tony and Y/N?” Sam asks, getting up and shaking his head. “What about them? The mission was tough. I’m sure they’re just tired. Tony’s always a grump after a tough mission.”

“He’s being a little cold. So what?” Nat shrugs. “She did rush in and get his arm dislocated.”

Steve hesitates because he doesn’t want to say something and be wrong. But…no! It’s as clear as day to him that you and Tony are finally dating.

“Anyway, it’s kinda your fault for saying no.” Nat accuses him.

“My fault?” Steve asks, confused. “Saying no to what?”

“To the mission. I was already assigned to that conference in Washington. Sam had his V.A. thing. Rhodey is always running missions for D.C. Wanda and Vision were going on their vacation. Clint finally went home. Tony said he asked if you’d go with him and you said you couldn’t. Too busy with Betsy, huh?” Nat wiggles her eyebrows, but Steve is too busy reeling from this flat out lie that he doesn’t respond to the Betsy comment.

“He asked me to go with him?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Sam nods. “And if you’d gone, maybe Tony wouldn’t be in such a bad mood. I don’t know why we’re still sending Y/N out on missions when she can’t keep her head on straight long enough to consider everyone else in the room. I had to ask her to be nicer to Betsy after that one dinner, remember? That night you brought her?”

“What?” Steve remembers you throwing a small fit. Betsy’s confusion from it but it had blown over so quickly that he hadn’t spared it another thought. “What did you tell her?”

“I just told her that she wasn’t being very nice and if she wasn’t going to try that maybe she should stay in her room until she felt like being nicer.” Sam shrugs but then steps back as Steve stands suddenly, glaring at him with an anger that Sam has only ever seen trained at misbehaved recruits.

“Have you or have you not seen Tony and Y/N together?”

“Steve, what are you getting at?” Nat asks, a little exasperated with him. Steve can see the annoyance in her face.

“Tony…Y/N…they’re seeing each other, aren’t they?” He asks.

“What?” Nat shakes her head, utterly confused by his words. “It’s only been two months since Tony and Pepper split.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “I mean, if he was seeing her, talk about a downgrade.”

Steve slams his hand down on the table. It groans and shifts from the strength of his hit but the fire in his chest is scorching.

“What the hell is your problem with her, Sam?” Steve demands, rage building at the clear dislike Sam has for you.

Would he still be treating you like this if he knew how Steve feels about you? Steve wonders.

“I don’t necessarily have a problem with her. I just—if you ask me, she needs more training. She’s not ready to be on the team.” He assesses.

“So instead of offering to train her you decide to spit insults at her behind her back?” Why does this happen to you? Steve doesn’t understand it. What is it about you that sets people on edge?

“It’s not that I’m…listen, I don’t dislike the girl. She and I just don’t flow on the same wavelength. I think I’d get frustrated trying to train her.” Sam admits, sending another wave of anger through Steve making his vision flash red.

“That isn’t teamwork, Sam. And you should know better.” Steve chastises him then grabs the reports and walks off before either of them can say anything more to stop him.

As he makes his way to his room, he realizes that your happily ever after with Tony might just run into a few snags because Tony, like he had done, seems to be hiding you from the rest of the team too and this discovery fills Steve with a wicked amount of apprehension and fury.

Steve sticks around. He lingers in the common spaces and as sneakily as possible, he looks for you.

He waits for you and Tony to come out together because he does follow you to Tony’s den and you spend days locked up in there with him.

Yes. You and Tony are together…at least within the confines of Tony’s den.

In the two weeks since Steve has started his search for proof of you and Tony’s relationship, only twice has he seen you and Tony together among the others.

Once, at another of Tony’s usual galas, he takes you to the dance floor and he twirls you around the floor teal illuminated floor.

You look beautiful in a stunning red satin gown. It clings to your form in all the right places and if Steve didn’t have Betsy on his arm, he might have given in to his urge to ask you to dance too but out of respect for you and Tony, he doesn’t.

He watches you light up in Tony’s arms, ecstatic to be his girl but as soon as the song ends, Tony drops you off at the bar and takes Nat out to dance. Then Wanda. Then Maria.

Steve watches you sit at the bar and stare as Tony takes out several more women out to dance before drifting off to mingle amongst his guests.

He doesn’t find you again that night and you get steadily more and more drunk.

Betsy wants to leave so Steve walks her out and gets her into one of Tony’s chauffeured cars, kisses her cheek, then hurries back up to the dance floor.

He doesn’t see you at first but as he casually moves through the party goers, sliding along the limestone floor, and banquet tables, he scans every corner of the room.

As he passes the bar, he sees your glass sitting just where you’d been, glass nearly full of what would have been your fifth whiskey of the night.

With his hands shoved into his pockets, he follows the route you would have most likely taken and considers the bathroom.

Purpose driven steps pull him towards that small hallway where the bathrooms wait. He holds his arm up on the doorway as two giggling socialites gawk at him in his formal wear, then he slides the door shut behind him as he moves towards the women’s bathroom.

He stops before the door, hesitating.

Shit. He should have grabbed one of those girls to check for you in there since he can’t go.

He raises his hand, lifting it to knock on the heavy wooden door but stops when he hears a familiar whimper.

He turns to his left, moving down past the men’s bathroom towards a closet at the end of the hall. The door isn’t shut all the way and he peeks in and wishes he hadn’t.

Your pretty dress is pulled up, gathered around your waist, laying on what must be Tony’s tuxedo jacket.

He’s kissing your neck, sucking on the skin that Steve remembers tasting himself. Sweet sugar and dewy honey. Tony’s movements are quick and rough, a frantic pulsing of thrusts as he yanks down the top of your dress and your breasts spill out to bounce with the urgency of his need.

Steve’s shock robs him of words for thoughts and speaking. He reaches to shut the door, but he seems to be catching the show just as it’s over.

You give that familiar tremble and your body clings to Tony as you’re awash in ecstasy. Tony clutches you close, thrusting into you a few more times before he buries himself deep and hits his peak too.

Your arms fall over your head and the thought pops into his head before he can stop it.

Too rough. Steve hates to see your body used because to him, that’ what it looks like.

There’s no love in what he just saw. Only lust. He very nearly decides that what Tony can give you is nothing more than pain and the very next morning he’ll convince you of it and hope that you come away with him…then Tony nuzzles his nose into your cheek, into your hair, kissing you softly with fluttering pecks.

Steve stares because yes, what he just saw was nothing but lust but there in the vestiges of whatever Tony had just done to you, is the love.

He knows it because he’s felt it. He gave you those same caresses, those same kisses.

Tony finds your lips and kisses you slow and genuine, his eyes boring into yours though your eyes are hazy with whiskey, telling you without words how much he loves you.

Steve shuts the door, silently, and heads back into the ballroom, staring up at the stained-glass ceiling for what feels like a long time as he considers both sides of this argument.

Tony is clearly keeping you to himself. Truly to himself. All night he’s ignored you, refusing to show anyone what you really mean to him. Why?

Is he ashamed? He has no reason to be. You’re…a little reckless at times, quick to anger, but you’re passionate and playful. You love with your whole heart and the damages of your youth are not are a struggle but one that Tony should be willing to carry.

If he loves you, he must have comforted you in the night when you wake up from those nightmares, right? He must have held you and kissed you and assured you that you were good and just right the way you are, right?

The door behind him opens and Tony emerges, tuxedo jacket back on but wrinkled. He looks around, smoothing his hair before spotting someone at the other end of the room. His head tilts to the right and he hurries across the dance floor.

Steve waits for you to follow but after five minutes, when you don’t, he sighs and ducks back into the hallway. He checks the closet again, hoping that you’re in the bathroom instead but he finds you there, sitting against the wall with your head resting against the cool stone. You’re decent at least, so there’s that.

Your head swivels in his direction and after a moment your eyes shine with recognition.

“Steve!” You gasp, smiling, stupidly happy to see him. “Hi!”

“Hey, doll face. Come on. Let’s get you home.” Steve moves over to you and you reach up to wrap your arm around his neck instinctively.

You smell like a liquor store and Steve finds that the rage in his belly just won’t quit. He feels sick to his stomach. Angry enough to punch someone.

He lifts you, holding you close as he kicks the closet door open and then heads for the ballroom.

“He just left you in there?” He asks, not really even sure if you’re listening.

“Tony said he’d be right back for me.” You argue, drunk but not as drunk as he might think maybe.

“Well, it’s been almost ten minutes.” Steve argues back.

You groan, an angry grimace thrown his way, but you’re already dozing on his shoulder and he doesn’t want to wake you.

It takes skill to get you snuck through the ballroom without the team seeing you. He doesn’t want Sam judging you or Nat frowning at you disapprovingly. Wanda would probably offer to help but then chastise you gently even through your sleep.

And for some reason, Steve wants to see the panic in Tony’s eyes when he doesn’t find you shut away in that closet.

Used and discarded. He thinks, though he knows he’s being unfair.

He was no better, keeping you to himself, shut up in your room.

His heart aches with guilt at the thought. He should have shoved you in all of their faces.

Steve has nearly made it to the front doors, having avoided most of the notable guests when he hears Tony’s voice, strained and stressed.

He’s hidden in an alcove in the large foyer. Steve hurries forward, eager to get out of the building before he’s seen when a second voice reaches his ears.

“This is the problem. This right here, Tony. You talk about commitment and the future like you’re ready but you’re not. You keep playing these games and I can’t wait around for you to be ready to grow up.”

“Pepper-Pep-Pepper, wait. Alright? Wait. Look, I’m working on it. I’m…I know I’m a mess.” Tony says.

“You’ve said all of this to me before, Tony. And you’re right. You’re all over the damn place. How do you expect me to start a life with someone who can’t even remember to pay his taxes? Or be there when he says he’ll be there. I waited for six hours. Six! You didn’t call. You didn’t even try and get word to me that you were caught up doing all these crazy things that you do, and it’s not like you were saving the world, Tony. I know you weren’t. You were stuck in your lab, fiddling with your toys, oblivious to the world around you. What are you going to do if we have kids? I need an adult-” Pepper pleads.

Tony tries to cut her off, “Pepper-”

But she speaks over him, shutting him up. “-someone who is willing to deal with his problems and not run from them. Someone who can put me first. Put our life first before all the bullshit this job of yours asks for. If you want this to work, you need to get your shit together, Tony. I can’t wait forever, and I’m very nearly done waiting.”

She’s near tears, and Steve can hear that. As he pushes through the door, he can hear Tony calling after her. Chasing her. With you, forgotten in a closet.

Steve waits for two hours, leaning against the wall outside your door.

He hadn’t undressed you. He hadn’t cleaned you up. He’d put you to bed, aspirin and water left for you to drink, then planted himself outside to wait.

Every minute that passed felt like an age. How long would you have been waiting in that closet if he hadn’t gone back in to look for you? How would you have felt when you came to and realized that Tony had forgotten you in there?

His newly acquired knowledge, the fact that Tony is still pleading with Pepper to take him back, makes the entire night so much worse. You don’t know what’s happening. To you, this isn’t as bad as it really is.

He hears him before he sees him. Fast, agitated footsteps on the cold dark concrete of the hallway, approaching from the stairs.

Steve doesn’t let himself look up. He keeps his eyes trained on the spot before him, right where the wall meets the floor. He chews on his tongue, urging himself into a calm.

The feet stop, and the musk of Tony’s cologne wafts towards him, churning his stomach.

Tony has always been a friend. A comrade. Someone that Steve can rely on. Although they may not have hit it off right away, over time, they grew close.

Now, Steve is fighting every fiber of his being to keep from breaking Tony’s nose.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asks, the jealous spike in his voice too much for Steve.

He scoffs, standing up straight but tightening the cross of his arms over his chest.

“I don’t think she was ever going to let you go without giving it a real good try first. It’s who she is. She wants something, she’ll get it. And she may be naïve but she’s not stupid, Tony.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing with her or if it’s some type of deal that you two have struck like she and I had but I do know that she loves you.”

“What’s your point, Rogers?” Tony asks, chest puffing out in his irritation.

Steve walks close, stopping when he’s standing right beside Tony to look down at his offended expression.

“My point is you should really be careful where you and Pepper have your lovers’ spats. If Y/N hadn’t been passed out drunk when I carried her out, she would have heard enough to know that you want Pepper back.” Steve lets that sink in, waiting for Tony to speak but he only looks away, towards your door.

“I wish I could ask you not to break her heart, but I think that’s inevitable now. If you’re not going to choose her…end it now. Before she can plan a future that she’ll never have. It’ll only hurt more when you rip it away from her.”

The second time Steve sees you and Tony not holed up in his den, is at a team dinner. Nothing special happens. No big reveals and no upsets. The only upset lies with Steve because he has to watch Tony push you away.

“Where’s Betsy, Steve?” Sam asks, smiling from ear to ear as he settles his elbows onto the table.

“We’re taking a break. She’s working on a big project for Fury and she doesn’t think she can give me the time I deserve.” He says, easy.

It isn’t a lie. Betsy is indeed busy with a plan for Fury, but the break is more from her loss of interest. Steve doesn’t blame her. Since the night of the gala, he’s been distracted. Less attentive.

He’s been watching Tony like a hawk and he’s seen him more than a handful of times in the weeks since the gala meet up with Pepper. Whether it’s to talk about business or their person lives, he doesn’t know.

What he does know is that you’re still very much a secret and Steve is starting to realize that it’s more for Pepper’s benefit than yours.

“How’s Pepper, Tony? Haven’t seen her around lately.” Steve asks, throwing the name out deliberately to get a reaction.

He hates that the name makes your eyes flood with confusion. You look up at him, full of wonder and anger because of course you’re going to hate him for bringing up Tony’s ex, but he has to make you see or make Tony confess.

Tony’s face is stoic, though his eyes betray a shift of anger. “She’s fine. We met up for breakfast two days ago.”

“You did?” You blurt out, suddenly nervous, eyes trained on Tony.

“Yeah.” Tony tells you, but he doesn’t look at you.

“That’s so great, Tony.” Wanda offers. “Any progress? We’re all rooting for you two.”

Steve watches you, frowning as your eyes pool as you stare at center of the table, hands tightly fisting the soft fabric of your skirt. No one else has noticed but the dishes on the table have begun to hover. No more than a few centimeters but enough that if one is paying attention, they’d see it.

“No. Nothing like that. It was for the company. She had some questions about some old projects I had started when I was still CEO.” He tells her, and though everyone else forgets the topic, you clearly don’t.

“Oh, I’ve got an update for you on Abu Bakaar, Tony.” Nat says, sliding out of her seat to grab the clicker for the large display at the end of the table.

Vision slides over and Steve can’t tear his eyes off of you as you sit there, rigid, to Tony’s left.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. the lights?” Nat asks, and the lights dim.

While Nat brings the monitor down and everyone at the table shifts to look over at what she’s doing, Tony finally looks at you and reaches out for your hand but you yank it away, sliding away from him hard, twisting your body around to look up at the monitor.

Steve can see that you want to cry and the tick in his jaw snaps audibly as he shifts his eyes to Tony and finds him watching him right back.

“We picked up his trail in Malaysia.” Nat clicks her remote and pulls up several photos of the weathered man outside a high scale bar. “Not really doing much. Trying to lay low probably but he’s out of practice.”

She clicks her remote and a new set of pictures crop up.

“He moved north into Cambodia, then Thailand, Laos, Myanmar, into China,” With each new place, new pictures are pulled up of him in cars, buses, sitting by bodies of water and large ornate buildings. “And our last scout puts him in Nepal. He’s hiding out in some village on the Himalayas. Beautiful but not luxurious. He’s taking the hiding more seriously now. I was thinking we could go in, all of us.”

Steve is focused on the mission, listening carefully to the description of Bakaar’s route for a pattern as to why he’d go so far north then divert back to the south west.

“Y/N…” With your name called, Steve’s attention is brought back to you and he finds you sitting up straight, staring at the screen with a frown. You turn to Nat. “…I know you faced this guy before but if he saw you, do you think he’d recognize you?”

Steve already doesn’t like where this is going.

“No. Not if I wear the right clothes.”

“What are you thinking?” Tony asks Nat, wary eyes flashed your way at the foolhardy spark in your own.

“He knows us, Tony. All of us. The whole world does. I can blend in and Steve is good at being quick but if we want to get this guy, we’re going to have to get close.” She looks at you and smiles. “Can you do it? He won’t know we have you. What you can do? It’s perfect.”

Steve hates the smile on Nat’s face. The want to throw you into the thick of what might very well be an ambush?

“No.” He says, stern, decided.

“What?” Nat asks, turning to him.

“Yes. I’ll do it.” You tell Nat.

“No.” Steve says, turning to face you.

He can see the defiant upturn in your face, the clear anger in your eyes. You’re jumping at the chance of danger after all that Pepper talk from before.

“It’s too dangerous.” He tells you.

“I don’t care. I’ll be good in there. I can do it.” You glare at him.

“I said no, Y/N. You’re not thinking straight.” He accuses.

You shoot to your feet, the dishes that had still been hovering falling at the same time as your focus is diverted.

“I don’t care what you say, I’m doing it whether you want me to or not.”

“It’s a trap.” Steve explains, getting louder. His chest aches with fear at the thought of you sliding into the village, getting yourself close enough for them to trap or worse, kill. “Those pictures, the path they’re taking, Bakaar wants to be found. You’re not going.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” You shout at him, hands fisted, lip shaking with rage.

“The hell I can’t! I’m Captain of this damn team and you will do what I say. We are not using you like some tool to sneak in. You’re not some hidden weapon for us to thrust out when we want to use you and put you away when we don’t.” Steve’s aware of the argument he’s making.

He knows that to you and to Tony, this will all mean so much more than just the mission, but he can’t help it. The thought of you exposed like that terrifies him and he is not going to let you do it.

You scoff, tears pooling in your eyes again as his argument hits the sore spot he was aiming for. When you speak, the hurt he just caused you cuts him as your voice drops back down to a low and calm cadence.

“You of all people should know Steve that I’m everyone’s dirty little secret.” You turn to Nat as Steve swallows hard and he watches as you make up your mind. “I’ll do it.”

Nat seems to understand that something more is going on here, and though she might not know exactly what, she knows that it’s serious.

As you move around Tony, yanking your hand away from him as he tries to catch you on your way around him, Nat finds Steve’s eyes and silently asks him what the hell she’s missing.

“How long have you been meeting with her, Tony?” You’re almost afraid to hear the answer.

Your gut screams at you, has been screaming at you, that things are not as perfect as you wish they were.

You’ve known for a while that Tony has been keeping you hidden, refusing to let anyone see that you’re his and that he’s yours…thought, maybe that’s because he never was?

“Since the beginning.” He says.

You stop your pacing and look over at him, sitting on the top step of the stairs that lead down into his lab. Wringing his hands, muscular arms straining with the tension of what this conversation means for both of you.

“Since the beginning.” You repeat and resume your pacing. “How long were you going to string me along?”

“That’s not what I was-”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Tony!” You scream, broken by his denial because it’s so far from the truth. How dare he even attempt to deny it. “You’ve been meeting with her since the beginning and what? You were going to introduce us and hope for the best? Maybe get a little ménage à trois?”

“No!” He insists, getting a little loud too. “Would you just-”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” You don’t mean to do it, but your temper gets the better of you and the cup of coffee you’d been drinking in the morning, happily sipping as Tony kissed your head, flies towards him.

You reach your hand out, stopping it before it hits him, and it falls to the ground and shatters.

“Fuck.” You sigh, moving to sit in his rolling chair to try and calm yourself.

You look at him and he’s staring at the floor, face screwed up with guilt and hurt.

You sob, allowing your emotions to bubble but focus on the ones that aren’t violent. It’s so difficult for you to control your ability. Even after so many years. You know you’ve neglected it, pushed it down because it’s what took your whole world and turned it into a nightmare.

You’ve never gained anything good from your power and you wish you could just shove it deep into a box and bury it with your parents.

“I can’t find any good reason for you to have done this to us, Tony. Why? Why would you make me feel this way if you wanted her back?”

“I wanted you.” He says, “I’ve wanted you for so long. I-I do love you, Y/N.”

“But not enough?”

“It’s not that.” He says.

You get up and move to him, dropping down to your knees before him, resting your hands on his. “Then choose me.”

For a fleeting moment, your mind is plagued by Steve’s own voice, begging you for the exact same thing you’re begging of Tony and you feel the weight of his grief double your own.

Did Steve love you then? Really love you?

“I can’t.” Tony sighs, reaching up to cup the sides of your face. “You and me won’t work, kid.”

You cry, face crumbling at his touch. It puckers and floods. You look down at his lap, hating the truth of his words. You already knew that he wasn’t going to choose you.

“But why?” You ask him, reaching up to cling to his hands.

“I’m not…I can barely take care of myself.” He confesses. “You and me, we’re both broken, and I can’t be there for you the way you need me. I wish I could give you what you want. What you deserve but I-”

You pull his hands away from your face, sobbing loudly, hating him for this but also wishing he’d crush you to his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, reaching for you and pulling you close so that he can kiss the side of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.” You gasp at him, pulling away from him to walk around him and move up the stairs. “I hate you.”

But you don’t. And that’s what kills you.

You pass Wanda and Vision on your way up the stairs to the common room and they stop at the sight of you falling to pieces. A mess of tears and snot.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Vision asks.

“Of course, she’s not.” Wanda chastises him.

“I’m sorry. I only meant it as an offer of assistance.” Vision explains.

You leave them behind, as you reach the common room landing. The meeting very much over but workaholics Nat and Steve still huddled in front of the display looking at the same photos over and over again to see if maybe this mission might really be a trap.

Steve looks up first and when he spots you, he straightens up, moving around the table and down the steps to stand a few feet from you as you continue to break.

Nat gasps quietly, suddenly worried about the state that you’re in and that argument from the meeting clearly playing itself over again in her head.

“Y/N?” She probes carefully, moving down the steps but stopping there because your eyes are on Steve and Steve’s eyes are on you.

He watches you, staring with a regretful but smug fix of his brow. Dark, storm blue eyes knowing.

“How long have you known?” You ask him, somehow finding the strength to speak.

“Since the gala.” He admits and you nod, understanding now that Tony had really forgotten you in that supply closet.

You’d thought it was a dream. A hazy nightmare where the man who claimed to love you avoided you the entire night, then dragged you into a closet to fuck you and then forgot about you.

As you meet Steve’s eyes, you succumb to the truth that this is not a nightmare. It’s only your life.

A life where you give up the love you deserve for the love you desire and have now lost them both.

“Steve…” You plead, moving closer to him by a single step. Does he know how sorry you are?

Steve takes a breath. His wide shoulders rise and fall with the weight of his sigh, expelling his own heartbreak as he opens his mouth to speak.

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[gumnut-logic]

We’ll be home for Christmas 2.1

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Two – Aboard This Tiny Ship – Part 1 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2

Author: Gumnut

14 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 3633

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D I hope you enjoy it.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 Day Two - Aboard this Tiny Ship

It was the bed disappearing under him and then slapping him hard that woke Virgil the next morning.

Ow, shit. He curled up, protecting his abdomen, more in surprise than any serious pain. It took him a few moments to fully awaken and work out where he was. Opening his eyes helped. Sun glared through one of his windows and he blinked, screwing up his face.

When his bed reassured him that it wasn’t going to disappear again any time soon by staying solidly attached to him for a good few minutes, he pushed back the covers.

Paper fell off the bed. His hand landed on his tablet and there was a clatter as several somethings hit the floor.

He frowned as he watched his sketchbook slide slowly over the edge and bend half its pages as it crumpled on the carpet.

What the hell?

And then he caught sight of his portable easel.

Oh.

Phthalo turquoise, rainbowed in its many shades, sat in backdrop to Payne’s Grey and white and all the tints in between. The mother and calf humpback whales swam at him out of the canvas sheet clamped to the backboard.

A blink. There was paint on his fingers, the bed sheets, and, oh shit, the carpet.

He struggled to sit up, dragging his feet off the side of the bed and onto the floor. His wounds complained at every wrong move and his head spun. Ugh, dehydrated. A pencil fell off the bed and he moved to catch it. He missed.

Damnit, another one ruined.

He rubbed a hand over his face and looked at the canvas again.

It was good. He was very critical of his work, but he knew this was good. A feeling of accomplishment swelled inside.

Just as the boat threw itself into the air for a split second only to come down hard again. Virgil’s eyes widened as the easel tilted and, in slow motion, begin to fall.

“No, no, no!” He shot off the bed and grabbed the art support, rescuing it from certain damage.

But he wasn’t supposed to be moving fast and everything in his abdomen screamed protest and he found himself frozen in the middle of his floor clutching his easel and unable to move.

Of course, that was when the boat chose to toss him around again.

The whole room shifted and he stumbled, yelped, and, by some miracle, managed to land on his bed, artwork on top of him.

His body, however, again did not approve at all and he let the easel slip to the bed covers, curled up and gave his belly time to reassure itself that it wasn’t being ripped apart.

A few breaths and he reached for his shirt on the end of the bed. Fumbling, he activated his collar comms. “Scott, you there?”

Wind roar answered him. “Hey, Virg! You’re awake early. You have to come up here, this boat is amazing.”

He blinked. “What?”

“She’s fast!” As if to emphasise that statement, Virgil’s bed bounced him up and down again.

“Ow, shit!”

“Virgil? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, too busy holding himself together.

Engine noise he hadn’t even acknowledged suddenly died off and the boat became its more familiar steady self. He could barely feel the gentle roll.

He let out a breath, drew in another, and when there was no more pain, finally relaxed on the bed. He really could have done without that.

His fingers brushed against canvas.

Hesitantly and wary of any pain, he pushed himself into a sitting position, once again letting his feet slide of the side of the bed to meet the floor.

“Virgil?” His name was accompanied by a knock on his cabin door.

It was at that point he realised he was only wearing his pyjama bottoms. A frown. He had phthalo turquoise in his chest hair.

His cabin door opened and Scott barrelled through, blue eyes immediately latching onto Virgil, assessing his condition, only to be distracted by the mess of the room. “What the hell?”

Gordon burst in behind his brother, followed by a calmer, but concerned John. “Are you okay, Virgil?”

“Uh, yeah.” Honestly, was he okay? Nothing was hurting, really, just an echo of the strain remained. “What happened to the boat?” He was almost waiting for the next buck to throw him from the bed, but there was only the barely-there gentle sway. “Did we hit rough seas? Has the weather gone bad?” The sun was still shining through his window.

“No, that was just our hot shot superior pilot attempting to prove that he really isn’t.” Gordon glared at his elder brother. “Face it, Scott, you just don’t have it on the water.”

“I have ‘it’ fine, Gordon.”

John was still frowning at Virgil. “Tell that to my fried egg which jumped off my plate and landed on the floor.”

“I was just getting a feel for the craft.”

“Yeah, well, the craft feels pretty shook up. I’m piloting from now on.” Now Gordon was frowning at Virgil. “You sure you’re okay? You’re pale.”

Of course, that set off Scott and Virgil found three frowning pairs of eyes staring at him. Self-consciously he shifted his arm to hide his incisions. Which his eldest brother immediately picked up on and before he could say anything, Scott was kneeling in front of him. “What is it?”

Virgil’s lips thinned. “You woke me up.” A glance at the clock. Oh god. “Before 7am.”

But his brother wasn’t having any of it. “Are you in pain?”

“No. I’m fine. You woke me up. We’re on vacation and you woke me up.” He put everything into a glare.

Gordon snorted. “Scott, you’re dead, bro.”

“Why is your easel on your bed?” That came from John.

“Uh-“

“Did you fall over?” His eyes cut across the room and interrogated Virgil.

Gordon rounded on Scott. “I told you!” The aquanaut whacked his eldest brother’s arm. “When in the hell are you going to listen to me?”

But Scott wasn’t paying him any attention. “Are you okay, Virgil?”

Oh, for the love of... “I’m fine! Now will someone either bring me coffee or let me get to the coffee?” Okay, so he was a little concerned about the whole floor tossing him about thing happening again. But then again, Scott wasn’t driving anymore.

He pushed himself off the bed, hunching a little to protect himself before mostly straightening and edging past Scott, and Gordon who was still glaring at his eldest brother. He fought the urge to pick up his sketchbook and the spray of cartridge paper on the floor. He wasn’t confident that bending over that far with an audience would be the greatest idea.

He met John at the cabin door and withstood his younger brother’s enquiring eyes as he made his way past.

“Oh my god, Virg. It’s amazing.” Virgil turned around like an old man and it annoyed him to no end. Gordon was holding up the painting, still attached to its support. Thank god he had used acrylics. If it had been in oils, it would have ended up all over him, all over the bed and likely totally destroyed.

The stunned expression on his little brother’s face did bring a small smile to Virgil’s lips. “Thank you. I’m quite happy with it.”

“I want it. Can I have it?” That was a very familiar response from Gordon. Anything Virgil painted involving the ocean got that response.

“I’ll think about it.”

The puppy look that resulted from that had Virgil rolling his eyes. “I said I’ll think about it. I might want to keep it myself.”

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s a beautiful piece of work, Virgil.” John soft voice had awe in it.

Virgil’s eyes widened as he stared at his reserved brother. “Thank you, John.”

“But you need to sit down.” And his younger brother began to steer him out of the room.

“I’m fine...” But of course, Scott who had been staring at the painting as much as Gordon, shook off his stupor and took Virgil’s other side. “Aww, c’mon, I’m not dying. It doesn’t even hurt.”

“If you think I missed you yelling out in pain earlier, you’re dreaming. You are resting on the lounge and we will get you your breakfast.” Those blue eyes darted at John and no doubt met agreement. “Gordon, give this cabin a quick tidy, will you.”

“Yeah, will do.” A glare shot at his eldest brother. “As long as you keep away from the helm.”

Scott muttered something Virgil couldn’t quite hear.

Despite his protests, his brothers did exactly what they said they would and dragged him out into the lounge and made him lie on the sofa which was fortunately long enough for his height and deep enough for his shoulders to fit comfortably.

Coffee and the accompanying breakfast were served up to him and he was eyed from across the room until he consumed it.

The coffee was lovely and warm and John had out done himself with the eggs. Despite himself and despite the caffeine dose, Virgil found himself lying back down and curling up on the couch and dozing.

Alan crawled out of bed at some point and woke him briefly, but an admonishment from Scott quietened the noise and Virgil let himself drift again, the gentle sounds of the ocean and the boat lulling him to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was having the time of his life.

The boat was a beauty and under the right hands, eg. not Scott’s, she coasted through the water like a dream. It was a whole different thing to be able to open a window and let the ocean breeze tangle in his hair. He loved the water with his entire soul, but safety and necessity in his job often kept a buffer between her and him, either wetsuit or marine acrylic. It was so freeing to be able to spend some time out in the open on the water indulging in speed. There would be some snorkelling, maybe even a little diving on this trip. There was no way he was letting this opportunity pass.

The only blip in his excitement was his second eldest brother. The man was healing. He was getting better, but he obviously wasn’t himself. Virgil slept on the couch in the main living area for the rest of the morning. Each of the brothers found themselves occupations elsewhere on the boat, though Gordon did note that Scott made a point of checking on the sleeping engineer multiple times. John wandered through approximately every forty-five minutes. Even Alan checked up on Virgil from time to time. The youngest was caught up in some video game battle with John that involved some extensive swearing about half an hour ago on Alan’s part and a whole pile of laughter on John’s part.

Gordon grinned. He obviously wasn’t the only one having a great time.

He had to admit that having all of his brothers together in the one space and not being required to work was simply amazing. So often it was not quite all of them, one missing for some reason or other, usually John.

And yes, he realised that it was a little different for five grown brothers to not only work together, but to inhabit the same space. With the exception of himself, and yes, he did blush a little and smile at the thought, none of them had any associations that might lead to future partners. Though come to think of it, John had been hanging around that chick from Global One a lot.

He frowned. Virgil and Tin had been spending a lot of time together, too. Hmm, he may need to poke a bear and a spaceman for intel at some point, even if it was just to see them squirm.

Actually, yeah, that sounded like some great evening entertainment.

Scott, well...and that thought sobered him up. Scott put far too much of himself into International Rescue, Tracy Industries and their family to have anything left. Hell, the man was the one floundering out here on the ocean. With Virgil operating in less than optimal condition, Scott monitoring had fallen to John and Gordon. Neither of them managed the task as well as Virgil, but they did their best.

Their eldest brother was at a loss. John had acquired the man’s phone, likely under Grandma’s orders, and hidden it. The only reason there hadn’t been yelling between the two brothers was the fact that Virgil had been asleep on the couch nearby at the time. As it was, it was surprising Scott’s glare hadn’t sunk the boat.

There was nowhere to run on the ship and while it was a luxury yacht, Gordon hadn’t bothered to include any kind of gym equipment, there hadn’t been time. So, his eldest brother was denied his stress relief.

Gordon had given the man the helm this morning for that exact reason. If he had known he would push her to full throttle like that, he wouldn’t have. Even he could see shaking Virgil around hadn’t been a good idea. Having had his own share of injuries in his short life, Gordon could easily empathise. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any damage done other than Virgil passing out on the couch for half the day and that was more usual Virg than anything else.

The yacht was decked out in all the top technologies. Of course, she was no Thunderbird, but her scanning equipment was excellent for a leisure vehicle, and Gordon had hotwired a few extra IR sensors into her array. So, the image he received of L’Esperance Rock was clear as a bell long before it appeared on the horizon.

The weather was to die for. He couldn’t have asked for a flatter, smoother ride. It was something he had made sure of before he even bought the boat. The trip wouldn’t have been viable if he had put his second eldest brother through a storm or even mildly rough seas. But the weather net had forecast stunning days leading up to Christmas for the entire period he planned to have them on the water and hopefully it would stay that way.

If he managed to keep Scott away from the helm.

Another sigh. A course check, a handful of calculations in his head. They would make it to Macauley by about the middle of the afternoon, give or take a dawdle around Curtis and Cheeseman Islands. It was so tempting to stop at each and check them out. It had been a while since he had been down here.

GeoNet reported that Curtis was quiet at the moment, fortunately. He had no wish to take on a volcano without a Thunderbird to back him up.

But, yes, Macauley would enable him to get Scott off the boat. The man could climb a few rocks and burn off his agitation. They could camp on the beach for dinner. It would almost be like being at home.

He grinned. Yes, set the yacht at anchor and take the inflatable into shore. He ran landing locations through his head. He might even have an opportunity to dive off Macauley.

Come to think of it...he hit the general comms line.

“A Little Lightning to Raoul Base. Mel, you got your ears on?”

It took a moment, but then a familiar voice bounced in over the water. “Thunderfish? Is that you? Whatcha doin’ all the way down there?” A pause. “And what the hell are you floating? You bein’ a billionaire or somethin’?”

“Hey, can’t I have a little vacation?”

“You? Vacated in the head maybe, but sitting on your butt? I find that hard to believe. You’re not sick, are you?” Actual concern crept into her voice. “You said you’d recovered from that crash.”

“I’m fine, Mel. Keep your hat on. It’s my brother who is a little under the weather this time. Couldn’t fly home, so we’re boating it and having a little vacation along the way.”

“Your brother? Which one?” Okay, so she was still concerned. Mel was a long-time friend. Since they had moved to Tracy Island, Raoul Island was their closest neighbour and both the northern-most and largest of the group. Mel was the director of the team stationed on the island by the New Zealand Department of Conservation and she oversaw all the research conducted on and around the Kermadec Islands.

“Virgil. A little appendicitis. He’s fine. Just a couple of extra scars and there is a little less of him than there used to be.”

“Aww, send him my best. And let me know if he needs a little nursin’. A girl can get lonely out here.” Gordon rolled his eyes. She had been flinging similar hopeful remarks about Virgil in his direction ever since his brother had airlifted her and her team off Raoul last time their resident volcano had twitched. It had been useful fodder to stir his brother with, but Virgil being the genuine and caring soul that he was, had clapped Gordon around the ear and threatened to tell Mel about Gordon’s underwear collection and the special prints he ordered in the mail.

Brothers played dirty.

But then Tin glared at Gordon enough to scorch his hair off.

So not going there.

“You? Lonely? Did the Kiwi Postal Service have to send out a special delivery this year for your fanmail?”

“Christmas cards from friends, you dorkus. You can talk. Pen says you got sixteen bunches of preserved roses from hopefuls last year.”

He frowned. “Pen? When did you speak to Penny?”

“Hey, I have to find out how you’re doin’ somehow. S’not like I can just boat over to your super secret island, is it?”

“Okay, you have a point. Though I must say, you and Penny is a combination that never occurred to me.” Probably because it was downright terrifying. Mel was more pirate than lady. You were more likely to find her in waders than heels, and her mind was a little more obsessed with these islands than was probably healthy or conducive to general conversation.

“She’s nice. You’ve done good, Thunderfish.”

“Thank you for your approval.”

“So, you’re on vacation in my isles. You watch yourself. No trashing anything. You tell your brothers to keep their rockets off my turf.”

“We know, Mel. Though you didn’t seem to mind when Virg parked his ‘bird on your doorstep. Not to mention that time I took your instrumentation down in Four, and then there-“

“Okay, okay, you are both useful and gorgeous, I get it. Just be careful, okay. It has taken years to revegetate and restore this area. If you weren’t you, I’d send the coast guard out to kick your asses out of the zone.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve had this discussion before, Mel. I have no quarantinable cargo, it has all been inspected, we won’t litter, we won’t take shellfish, we won’t step on birds’ nests, we won’t chop firewood, we won’t even look under rocks for crabs. However, I was going to ask if there was anything on Macauley you would like me to check out while I’m there. I was thinking of landing for a brief respite. Scott needs a break.”

“You’ve got the Commander on board that little dingy?”

“Aye.”

“I thought you said putting that man on a boat was equal to transporting dangerous cargo. Cargo that bites.”

“It is. Hence the stop at Macauley. Any teams down there at the moment?”

“No, most of them have gone home for Christmas.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I am home, Thunderfish. What the hell kinda stupid ass question was that?”

Okay, touchy subject.

“No need to rip my head off. Just offering you a hand if you need one. We’ll make Macauley by late afternoon. I’m keeping the speed down a little. Is there anything you would like me to look into while I’m there? I might have a couple of hours to play with.”

“Gimme a sec.” A moment. “Hmm, it’s a shame you don’t have your little yellow submarine with you. One of the sensors in the Macauley caldera has gone offline. Burke is gonna be pissed.”

“Burke is always pissed. She needs to get a life.”

“She’s got one. Got together with one of the scientists from Tokyo a few months back. Been a hot topic ever since. Gone to Japan for the holidays.”

“Good for her.”

“Crap for me as I’m now short an aquanaut over said holidays.”

“I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll see what I can do. Hell, might even drop back after Christmas. Visiting these waters has reminded me of several reasons why I became an aquanaut in the first place.”

“Ooh, if only I could lure you here permanently. You and your Thunderbird.”

Gordon snorted. “You’re in my retirement plan, Mel.”

“Yeah, right.”

“You want me to check any of the landward or shallow water sensors?”

“Nah, they’re all good. Do you have your sensor buoy with you? Any indepth readings would be lovely.”

“Already started spot analysis. I’ll send you last night’s data. Caught a great shot of a humpback and her calf. Full details recorded. They were both untagged, but we ran into Hilda.”

“All the way down there? Great, anything you can send me would be fabulous.”

“FAB.” He grinned.

“Exactly, smart ass. You look after yourself out there. I hear International Rescue is on vacation, which means you get into trouble, it will be my ass that gets yanked out of bed. I value my sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Keep that in mind. Raoul out.”

He had to grin.

-o-o-o-

End Day Two, Part One

Day Two, Part Two

[rorykillmore]

okay this is. well. a LATE birthday fic for my friend jemi, who does not have a personal tumblr atm, but i’m sticking it here because this is where i file all my fics at this point, and because it’s also a tiny bit of a partial co-present for @xivuuarath too! 

jemi, one of the things i’ve loved most about this past year is getting the chance to write with you again and develop these new and wonderful and crazy cross-fandom dynamics just the way we used to. it’ll always mean a lot to me to be able to write with you, and i really hope i’ve done everyone in this fic justice because i cannot tell you what a DELIGHT forming this disaster of a group dynamic/eventual found family with you and storm has been!!! i can’t wait to develop them more together, but for now, this particular fic is set a little ways in the hypothetical future once they’ve all gotten to know each other a little more, and after villanelle has had... SOME kind of similar encounter with her family to the one she just had in canon. tldr: her mom sucks, she’s dead now, and villanelle ran off after burning her house down.

anyway, yeah, ENJOY!

They all look like idiots, and normally, Villanelle would delete any photo that made her look like an idiot without a second thought. But there is something kind of nice about it this time.

Villanelle supposes that maybe it’s a little unfair to blame Konstantin for the fact that her birth family turned out to be shit.

(Okay, not all of them were shit, but it is easier to pretend that they were and not that the few days she spent with them were the happiest she’s ever been in her whole life.)

Anyway, while it’s not technically his fault, he is the one who told her they were alive, and the last thing she wants right now is to go back and tell him exactly how catastrophically things did not work out.  He is no longer her handler anyway. She has to report back to Knock Out.

(Actually, she has not been on a mission recently, she has nothing to report, and Knock Out would probably not even notice if she didn’t contact him for several more days, but... Villanelle will just make up a reason to talk to him, then. He doesn’t have to know she’s wasting his time just because he makes her feel a little better.)

So she’s surprised when she texts him (or his comm frequency, however it works with Cybertronians) and gets a message back that he’s already waiting for her at Mistoffelees’.

That’s how Villanelle thinks of the house, absurdly, as belonging to Mistoffelees and Victoria -- namely because by know she knows them much better than she knows their people. Somehow, amidst the chaos of the past several days, Villanelle had entirely forgotten she’d agreed to cat-sit again (less for any pragmatic reason this time and more because she hadn’t had anything better to do, before the issue of her family had cropped up) starting this evening. She’d also forgotten that they’d all planned another marathon session of Kitchen Nightmares, and for some reason... all of this rattles her.

For some reason, when she arrives and walks up the driveway and finds Knock Out parked waiting for her, and Misto and Tugger settled side by side on the fence, she gets a strange little lump in her throat that she can’t explain.

“Finally,” Tugger complains the minute he sees her. “If any of us actually had thumbs, we may well have considered starting without you.”

“Excuse me,” Knock Out is quick to protest. “Just because it’s not exactly strategic for me to transform in the middle of a human neighborhood doesn’t mean you get to lump me in with you furballs.”

Mistoffelees rolls his eyes in an unnervingly human gesture that Villanelle is only just starting to get used to.  “I’m sure he meant ‘if any of us actually had thumbs that we could conveniently use without causing hysteria in this precise moment.’ Didn’t you, Tug?”

“Sure, darling,” Tugger says, not sounding very sincere at all.

Villanelle comes to a slow halt beside Knock Out’s alt mode, trying to bask in their familiar banter, trying to make it feel just the same as her family’s home-y sense of chaos did. It doesn’t quite work. But it does make her want... something.

“We should take a road trip!” Villanelle announces suddenly, entirely out of nowhere and without thinking about it.  Mistoffelees and Tugger turn nonplussed looks on her, and she can practically feel Knock Out figuratively side-eyeing her, and for a second she worries that they’ve noticed something’s wrong. 

But the silence only lasts for a beat before Knock Out scoffs,  “What, now? And where, exactly, were you thinking of going?”

Villanelle shrugs, undeterred by their skepticism.  “Anywhere. We could just... drive.”

“In that?” Tugger stares wide-eyed into Knock Out’s windows, and then very quickly clears his throat.  “Sorry. In him?”

“We could bring Victoria too,” Villanelle says, appealing to Misto. “Is she home?”

Mistoffelees flicks an ear uncertainly.  “She’s out at the junkyard this evening. And anyway, Villanelle, we can’t exactly up and disappear without giving the others cause for alarm --”

“So go tell them! We can wait here.  It would only be for, like, a couple of days, and your humans will not even notice since they’re not due back ‘til next week.”

“Not to agree with Tugger, but I’m still stuck at the part where I have to lug them around and get cat fur all over my interior,” Knock Out quips, rather casually considering the chaos unfolding around him. “...Not to mention, we don’t exactly have clearance for this.”

“We don’t have an assignment either,” Villanelle points out. “Do they really care what we do in our own time?”

Knock Out seems too surprised to answer, maybe because this is the first time outside their missions and their little casual reality television get-togethers that Villanelle has ever expressed such an interest in spending time together.

The cats are almost as baffled. Tugger and Misto exchange a look that Villanelle can’t quite read, before Mistoffelees settles his attention back on her.  “This is all a bit... sudden,” he starts, and it’s the fact that he sounds almost gentle that makes something in Villanelle prickle up again. Is her behavior so erratic and concerning that she’s making them feel sorry for her?

“Fine,” she cuts in, changing tracks suddenly.  “Fine! Never mind. I will take one on my own. See you all in a couple of days --”

“Er, hold on.” Knock Out recovers enough to stop her. “If you’re going to do this anyway, I might as well tag along and see that you don’t do anything careless. Otherwise I’ll have nothing to do but drive around London while you go off and have all the fun.”

Villanelle stops in her tracks.  “Do you want me to be careful, or do you want me to have fun?”

“...Is that supposed to be a trick question?”

She shrugs, still recovering her pride and wondering if she should brush him off just on principle because of it. Deep down, though, Villanelle doesn’t want to, and so instead she looks back at the cats where they’re still settled together on the fence.

On the fence. Heh. Like a metaphor.

“I think you two could use the vacation,” she tells them casually.  “Have you ever actually been on a honeymoon?”

“A what?” Mistoffelees asks as Tugger sweeps his feathery tail around him. Villanelle has started to get used to the easy affection they share between them, but it hasn’t yet ceased to give her a pang of something indecipherable each time.

“A honeymoon,” she says.  “It is something two people do when they get m -- when they love each other and want to be together forever. They go off and take a trip and kind of... celebrate their relationship.”

Tugger tilts his head ever so slightly to one side.  “And is it customary for them to bring their friends along?”

Villanelle glances at Knock Out, but if he knows anything about this particular Earth custom, he stays silent for once.  So she shrugs.  “Sure. That way it is like a party, you know?”

“I daresay neither of us do.”  Mistoffelees turns so he can meet his mate’s gaze.  Villanelle expect Tugger to have a very decisive opinion on all of this, and to state it very loudly, because that’s just how Tugger is.  So it surprises her when instead, he returns Mistoffelee’s look quietly - almost gently - and waits for his verdict.

“Is it really only going to be for a couple of days?” Mistoffelees asks cautiously at length.  Villanelle grins despite herself.

--

It is roughly a five hour drive between London and Paris, which is a bit of a pain in the ass when the taking the train shaves about half of that off, but for once Villanelle is trying to be objective about how she is probably the least inconvenienced person in this situation. The only reason Misto and Tugger aren’t stuffed in the trunk right now is because she offered to buy them cat carriers to travel in instead, and when the cats vetoed that option, she’d reluctantly promised Knock Out that she’d be the one vacuuming his back seat instead.

Even with that compromise made, though, five hours is a long time to spend in a car with someone. Especially a sentient car. They’ve already gone through the motions of arguing about the radio - a pointless endeavor, given that Knock Out is the one who controls it - and then Villanelle had tried to teach them how to play a couple of road trip games ( “Fuck, Marry, Kill” had gone the most disastrously).

Finally, Mistoffelees asks, “Was it really necessary to come so far for this... other city you described? I don’t see how it can be all that much different from London.”

He sounds almost uncomfortable, and for the first time Villanelle wonders whether he or Tugger have ever been this far from home before -- they are cats, even if they are special ones.

“Paris is nothing like London,” Villanelle insists, though she knows that alone might not mean much to him.  “-- It is the most beautiful city in the world. And if you’re in love, you have to go at least once.”

“I never figured you for the sentimental type,” Knock Out quips dryly.

"Maybe she means if you’re in love with yourself,” Misto offers.  “I suppose that describes at least three out of four of us, so --”

He breaks off at Tugger’s feigned indignant gasp and even-more-feigned swat, laughing, and Villanelle gives both of them a pointed look through the rearview mirror.

They are just made for Paris, these two. Later, they’re going to have to admit that she was right.

Knock Out sighs audibly, distracting her from her thoughts.  “You know. You really do owe me for this.”

--

Even Knock Out can’t find too much to complain about once they reach the city proper, though. Villanelle beams smugly when he admits that there’s a certain classiness about it all “as far as cities on this mudball go”, and he rolls his windows down a little so that Misto and Tugger can better appreciate the scents and sounds.

“It’s not home,” Tugger drawls, enjoying the way the wind buffets the mane of fur around his neck.  “But it’s not half bad.”

It’s home to Villanelle, though, or -- the closest thing she’s ever had to one, besides the one she just burnt to ashes. She takes them past the street where her old apartment used to be, just for nostalgia’s sake.

“The only thing about Paris is, it’s really more of a walking city,”  Villanelle tells them at length.  “Hey Knock Out -- you don’t have some kind of boat mode, do you?”

“A boat?” Knock Out echoes scathingly.  “What exactly do you take me for?”

“Okay, so, the river tour is out. But I can show you around even better from here. Just follow my lead.”

Mistoffelees leans languidly against Tugger as they share the open window, and sighs.  “What could possibly go wrong.”

To Villanelle’s credit, she does give a hell of a tour, taking them past the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe. Then they make a stop at the Pont Neuf bridge, where Villanelle positions the very bemused cats on the railing so that she can take their picture against the backdrop of the Seine.

“I can’t say I really understand the purpose of this,” Misto says for about the third time, then flattens his ears when Villanelle shushes him.

“I told you! It is easier to show you than tell you -- here, look.” She approaches to show them the image on her phone, ignoring the peculiar looks she gets from one or two passersby.  Tugger is the first to lean forward with skeptical curiosity, and then --

“-- It’s us.” His eyes go wide, and Villanelle watches his reaction with a smug sort of delight.  “Oh, that actually is marvelous.”

“I knew you would enjoy any excuse to look at yourself,” Villanelle quips in return, though in truth, it is a very nice picture if she does say so herself. Misto and Tugger look especially handsome in the photo -- you know, for cats. The sun brings streaks of vivid color out in Tugger’s fur, while Misto’s black and white pelt looks particularly glossy. They sit side by side, their sides touching, and Villanelle had captured just the right moment to preserve the glance they’d exchanged as she took the picture: Misto looking up at Tugger in "can-you-believe-what’s-happening” exasperation, and Tugger returning his gaze with something that read between amusement and the inevitable fondness he always seemed to regard the other cat with.

It’s very... them, Villanelle decides.

“It’s...” Mistoffelees seems almost uncharacteristically at a loss for words.  “...It’s like you froze a moment in time.”

Villanelle shrugs agreeably.  “Humans kind of collect them. I can get this printed, and then you can have your own physical copy, if... that is something you want?” She isn’t sure whether cats have any particular use for photos, but Tugger and Mistoffelees seem to like the idea.

“Seems a shame to waste such a handsome keepsake,” Tugger says, his eyes glinting. Misto smiles - in that very un-catlike way the Jellicles have - and looks up at Villanelle directly.

“Thank you.”

She tilts her head and almost responds, but then can’t think of anything good or clever to say. So instead, she turns to where Knock Out is still parked, the impatience practically simmering off him.

“Knock Out! Let me get one of you.”

“I don’t do autographs, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Don’t be so boring, God. Actually, we can all get in it! I will get someone to take it for us.”

It is probably only Villanelle’s perfect French that saves her from looking like a completely batshit tourist as she herds the cats over to him and needles one very confused local into taking a picture of the four of them together. Instead, she just looks like... well, a batshit French person obsessed with taking photos of herself, her two cats, and her sports car. Which is fine with her, really.

The photo turns out nice, too. Not quite as romantic as the first -- actually, it looks pretty silly. Tugger, taking advantage of Knock Out’s inability to protest while in public company, had leaped up onto his hood and sprawled out like some kind of feline model, which had made Villanelle throw her head back and cackle while in the midst of trying to scoop a begrudging Mistoffelees up into her arms. 

They all look like idiots, and normally, Villanelle would delete any photo that made her look like an idiot without a second thought. But there is something kind of nice about it this time. 

She takes them to the Luxembourg Gardens, too, where an artist asks if she can paint Mistoffelees (leaving Villanelle, Tugger, and Knock Out all quite individually offended evidently not to be considered the prettiest of the group), and then to the fish market where she figures the cats will be in heaven (shockingly, Tugger decides that Parisian food isn’t beneath him, though Misto is partial to the vanilla ice cream Villanelle buys him later).

By then, it’s getting close to nightfall, and Villanelle checks the time and then the listing on her phone. “Okay. Just one more stop. You will all like this one, I promise.”

“I think we’ve all learned by now not to trust your promises,” Mistoffelees retorts, but it’s goodnatured, a mild protest by his standards. Tugger even joins in making fun of his grumbling this time, and Knock Out has spent the last twenty minutes idly looking into things near the city he might want to do “for reconnaissance purposes” the next day, so Villanelle suspects that - not so secretly - they are all enjoying themselves.

--

The last stop is at a little park just beyond the city, where an overlook affords them a view of the Parisian lights in all their glory.  Misto and Tugger stop to enjoy it together for a little while, while Villanelle urges Knock Out to continue on up the road a little ways to find parking at...

“A drive-in theater.” Knock Out realizes, surprise lacing his tone.

Villanelle slips out the passengers side door to stretch her legs, but also to inform him:  “Drive-in is a loose term. I rented out the entire space for us tonight. I figured if we had a bit of privacy, you wouldn’t have to be stuck as a car all night.”

“I --”  Knock Out starts, then seems to register what she actually said.  Villanelle waits through the pause patiently.  “...I happen to be gorgeous in vehicle mode. As anyone with optics could tell you.”

“Yes,” Villanelle agrees, because she’s already learned how to butter him up, “But you make an even prettier robot.”

Knock Out tilts his mirror at her. His version of a side-eye, and code for I know exactly what you’re doing but I’m still flattered. “Well. I suppose this was... shockingly thoughtful of you.”  He transforms once Villanelle takes another step back, and then crouches down to eye her suspiciously. “Uncharacteristically, one might even say.”

But Villanelle has no real ulterior motives, this time.  She is just happy they all came with her to her favorite city in the world for no other reason than because she asked. Instead of saying that aloud, though, she redirects her attention to the overlook, where Tugger and Misto’s silhouettes are visible.  “Do you think they are enjoying their honeymoon?”

“How would I know?” Knock Out flippantly tilts his head to consider the pair. Misto tucks himself against Tugger’s side, and Tugger wraps his tail around the tom’s smaller frame as if they’ve done this thousands of times before. They look so... still. So content, in a way Villanelle isn’t used to imagining them. “I’m not an expert on the mushy stuff.”

“Really? You don’t have anyone?”

“I...” That actually gets Knock Out to hesitate, his expression unreadable. “...Think it’s inappropriate to divulge that kind of information between agent and handler.”

Villanelle nods ruefully. Konstantin had always been smart enough to avoid talking about his personal life with her, too. “I have someone,” she announces quietly, the status of the actual having be damned. “I might tell you about her someday. But --”  And before Knock Out can react to that, she shifts her attention back to the cats again. “I think they really love each other.”

“That seems like a safe assumption,” Knock Out quips dryly.  “Why do you even care?”

Why does she care? Envy? Her usual fascination with other people’s emotions, the ones that are always just out of reach for her? Neither of those feel right, but Villanelle doesn’t know the name for what is.

It just... feels better, knowing that Mistoffelees and Tugger have each other. It makes something in her calm strangely when she thinks of them.

She just shrugs again, in the end. And then the cats are getting up and coming back around to meet them, and Villanelle shoos away whatever she was feeling or pondering feeling and gives them an elegant smirk.  “Finally decided to join us, lovebirds?”

Tugger smirks right back up at her. “Personally, I would have been quite happy to spend the rest of my night watching the city lights, but Mistoffelees here seemed to feel that would have been terribly discourteous of us both.”

“It is your honeymoon,” Villanelle points out, because despite her teasing she wouldn’t really have minded. Her and Knock Out have a movie they could have entertained themselves with, after all.

“Yes,” Misto agrees lightly. “And I don’t think it’ll be one we’ll ever forget. Especially if you’ve chosen a decent... movie for us.”

“Please, Mistoffelees,” Villanelle mimics Tugger using his full name, because she enjoys the way it rolls off her tongue and she knows her accent makes it sound a little funny. “Surely you trust my taste by now.”

“Not unconditionally.” 

“It’s French,” Villanelle promises them as she goes to turn on the screen.  “-Ish. And romantic. You will watch it, and be grateful that your lives are not anywhere near as terrible as this couple’s are!”

“Moulin Rouge?” Knock Out asks in confusion as the title screen pops up.  “I’m not sure I understand the need for dramatics. It all ends happily enough, doesn’t it?”

Villanelle stares back at him wordlessly, one eyebrow raised.

“...It... I may have caught Starscream watching it once. And I’m positive they get back together safely at the end.”

“Do not spoil it for the cats!” Villanelle tries not to sound too gleeful at this newly collected potential blackmail on the Decepticon second-in-command. She sits down in the grass by Knock Out’s feet, and Tugger settles in beside her with Misto at his side, and Villanelle spends a moment reflecting that it would be really fun to teach them some of these songs.

She wonders if cats can technically sing?

[pinecone5678]

Wildflower-Reylo Quarantine Fic

Quarantine Multi-Chapter- Reylo- After Last Jedi because yay angst and also I’m still not emotionally handling ROS very well. But yeah a pandemic hits Naboo and apparently, Kylo is down there. Leia sends Rey to try to turn him to the light one more time. But oh no they get quarantined together and oooh what if there's only one bed later.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23606656/chapters/56649211

Chapter One

“I know everything I need to know about you.”

“Oh you do? Oh, you do.”

It had been months since she’d heard from him since they realized what they were. What they could be.

She saw a change for the galaxy, for everyone, for good.

He saw her as an empress, someone to rule with.

Neither were getting what they wanted.

But it wasn’t that interaction that kept her up at night. The face she saw in her dreams, in her fantasies, was the small piece of Ben Solo she’d seen in the elevator to the throne room. Rey knew that Ben was in there, fighting to get out of the mask of Kylo Ren.

Rey only wanted to take his hand.

“Rey, you with us?” General Leia Organa was leading the latest strategy meeting for the Resistance and Rey couldn’t concentrate anymore—a fact Leia knew well.

“Yes, General, of course.” Rey nods, wrapping her fingers tighter around her staff.

Finn nudged her politely, forehead creased in worry, a silent question.

Rey gave a small grin back, hoping it would reassure him so they could get back to the topic at hand.

Leia was briefing them on a small outbreak of plague that had recently ravaged Naboo. The General’s eyes pricked with tears for her mother’s home, her birthright. Naboo’s leadership had confirmed with Leia that none of the fighters they’d just sent to the resistance were infected and they were going to close their ports, but Leia wasn’t sure.

Chewie grumbled.

Rey agreed, it was unlike Leia to be unsure. “Shouldn’t we separate them from the rest of the base? Seclude them?” Poe was anxious, his hands gripping the control panel of the ramshackle headquarters was enough of a tell. “We are fighting a war here, we don’t need to be checking our temperatures every hour on top of it.”

Leia shook her head, “Secluding them will spark fear in the rest of the resistance. We don’t need more fear.”

Poe slammed his hand down hard, “Damn it to hell!”

The small group of those closest to Leia barely flinched, only BB-8 and Finn reacted to his outburst. Things on the base were so tightly strung Poe lost his temper three to four times a day.

“Do we know where this plague came from?” Rey asked.

Leia’s eyes narrowed and Rey knew. If this plague wasn’t natural then only one person could be vile enough to plant it on Naboo.

“I’ll kill him.”

Finn’s head snapped up from where he’d be whispering to Poe, clearly trying to keep him calm. “Who are we killing?”

Leia shook her head, a ghost of a smile on her face. “No one Finn, you aren’t killing anyone and neither is Rey. If this plague continues, we’ll need to refocus our resources on living.”

“It’s a good thing we have time then.” Rose, ever the optimist said. Rey wanted to believe her, wanted to think that this was a small sickness they could wave away, but something, maybe the Force, told her there was something deeply wrong about this plague. That the worse was yet to come.

Rey put a hand on Rose’s shoulder, “Exactly, and we should use this time to prepare.”

“No,” Poe interrupted. “We need to use this time to strategize, the First Order is going to find us with our arms full of med supplies with our pants down. We need to mobilize the fighters and get a squadron out of here tomorrow.”

Rey rolled her eyes, “Poe this isn’t the time! There’s a potential threat out there that will take us all out.”

“Don’t be overdramatic Rey. Leia just said it’s still on Naboo.”

“Yes, where thousands have died!”

“Guys can we-“ Finn started.

“They’re going to close their ports.”

“Going to? Are we at the same meeting right now?”

Rose moved between the scavenger and the pilot, “Listen, let’s just-“

“I’m at this meeting Rey, you’re clearly somewhere with your head up Ren’s ass“

Chewie bellowed, silencing them both.

“This meeting is clearly over, everyone get a good night’s sleep. Poe go cool off. Rey, come here.”

Everyone dispersed from the large tent. The think canvas of it was dense enough to hide the bright lights of the comms systems but it was hard to tear down when they needed to vacate whatever refuge they’d found most recently. Finn held open one of the flaps for Poe to storm through with BB-8 on his heels, he cast a sympathetic look in Rey’s direction before following the little droid to wherever Poe had decided to go.

Rey followed Leia into her tent, fuming. “If he could just listen to me during those meetings we wouldn’t have to end them so suddenly every time.” Rey fiddled with the wraps on her arms, angry he’d even suggested she was up Kylo Ren’s ass. What an arrogant, foul-mouthed, fly boy. “Am I right?” Rey looked up to see Leia leaning against the small cot. Leia always kept her tent sparsely furnished so when Leia gestured for Rey to sit, she chose the floor.

“I think he’s partially correct.”

Rey’s mouth fell open.

“What were you thinking about during that meeting? It was obvious you weren’t really there.”

“I-I don’t really know.”

Leia raised an eyebrow.

Rey looked at her arms again. “Okay- I- I was thinking of Ben-er, Kylo. I can’t help but think it’s my fault he’s not here with us. With the light.” When she finally felt brave enough she looked up to face Leia, afraid of the disappointment.

But there was none, merely a sadness Rey still can’t fathom. She often forgets how heavy this all weighs upon her. Luke had just died months ago and Han not too long before that.

“Han and I have blamed ourselves, each other, and everyone and everything you can think of for what’s happened. Don’t join that fight, Rey.” Those tears pricked the General’s eyes again. “Just don’t.”

“I have to know-did he start this sickness?”

Leia merely shook her head.

“Then who did?”

“That’s what I wanted to speak to you about. We don’t know if it was him but I have intelligence that he is there. He’s looking for something that he hasn’t found yet.”

What could he be looking for? There was nothing on Naboo for him except for his heritage.

Of course, his heritage. The one thing that’s always conflicted him, the past. It could never die, no matter how hard he tried to kill it.

“They’ve taken his ship but they don’t know where he is and all outgoing ports are closed except high ranking officials.”

Rey snorted, “He could kill them with a blink of his eye to leave.”

“He hasn’t done that yet. So, I’m sending you to Naboo.”

“Naboo! But Leia, I won’t be able to leave, to serve the resistance!” Rey leaped to her feet, indignant.

Leia crossed the small tent and took Rey’s hands in her own. “Rey, you almost brought Ben back once, you can do it with time. Being locked in together on a planet of my family, of his family, might be the key.”

“I can’t do this. I failed once, I don’t want to do it again. I’m-I’m not a jedi, I haven’t completed my training and there’s still the books and-“

Leia patted her hand, “Right now, this is something we have to take a chance on.”

“What if he’s not alone? What about his knights?”

“I doubt he’d let anyone see who he was, who he might still be.” Leia released her hands and moved to open a trunk. “Take this.” She handed Rey Luke’s saber. “You might need it.”

Chapter 2 up now!

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 75

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS:  Murtagh tries to elicit information out of his buddy Fergus about Jamie’s return to Section sans Claire.  Needing to test his suspicions, Jamie sets about collecting proof of skulduggery by the target he has in his sights, while Fergus seeks Intel on Karen and her boyfriend Andy Ma.

THANK YOU for reading, liking reblogging and for your comments on the last chapter. Much appreciated. x  Previous chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

  CHAPTER 75

Retracing his steps back towards Munitions, Murtagh Fitzgibbons went in search of his buddy Fergus Claudel to ask about why Jamie had returned to Section without Claire. As he approached Comm., he stopped in his tracks when he noticed that his friend wasn’t alone, so Murtagh returned to his work station and busied himself in the guise of fixing some equipment. He looked over to Systems every now and again while he bided his time waiting for the right moment to go over and talk to him. He’d been surprised to see Jamie back in Section and the curiosity as to why, was killing him. Not only had he returned but the conversation with the level 5 operative in the corridor also raised more questions than were answers as far as he was concerned. When the rest of his team had returned their weapons to him and Jamie hadn’t, he’d just naturally assumed that he had stayed in Hong Kong with Claire. So, what was going on? Murtagh walked into his supply room to put away the mission equipment and returned with another, so as to look busy if anyone was watching him. He looked over to Comm., to see that Fergus was still engaged in conversation with an operative. Racking his brain, he tried to unravel the mystery, however, everything he thought of was sheer speculation and until he spoke to Fergus, he was none the wiser. Jamie had returned alone, Operations wanted to see him ASAP and where was Claire? The two operatives were joined at the hip. So, where was she? Jamie and Claire always watched each other’s back but now he was back in Section and Claire was God knows where? Had Operations and Madeline found a new way to separate the two best operatives that they had? Their missions were successful and they had made great in-roads into the Rising Dragons’ triad so far, so why would they do that? Perhaps the mission had been aborted ... but that still didn’t explain why Jamie was back in Section without Claire. Murtagh’s real concern was that if Jamie was here ... then who was keeping an eye on his Sugar? Her cover was integral and he wouldn’t just leave her to her own devices at this critical stage of the mission. One thing he did know was that Fergus always had a finger on the pulse. He would know what was going down and explain the mystery surrounding Jamie’s recall back to Section once more. He looked over to see if Fergus was alone yet, then when he thought it was clear, he began to hurry over to Comm., but just as he did, he saw one of Fergus’ Techs walk over to him and hand him a disk. Backtracking Murtagh returned to his work station and impatiently cooled his heels once again until the coast was clear and the operative had left. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* “What's this Rachel?” “It's the Intel on The Triangle nightclub that you wanted.” “Thanks.” “Will that be all?” “Yeah ... you can go home now Rachel.” “Thanks ... Goodnight Fergus.” “Goodnight.” Fergus Claudel returned to his computer station and sat down to finish working on his summation. He’d already given Operations what he had on tonight’s mission but Rachel Hunter had been working on a different angle for him. He fingered the disk carefully before inserting it into his disk drive. Tiredly he removed his Comm. unit and glasses, rubbed his eyes and sat staring at his computer watching as Intel appeared on his monitor. Visual images of inside Jonathon Randall’s nightclub appeared on the screen one after the other. He numbly stared at the computer screen trying to get a handle on the data. Looking up at the monitor mounted above him, he saw the same images there too. He rubbed his hands over his head; leaned back in his chair then stretched his arms above his head trying to keep himself alert. Gathering his thoughts he put his glasses back on again a couple of minutes later, leaned forward and began cross referencing the faces to Section’s known triads’ data base. If he was able to match some of the Intel to their data, they could widen their net in capturing Sun Yee Lok. Many of the guests were prominent business people but it was unknown how legitimate they were or if they had ties with the other triad groups or were indeed Rising Dragon members too. As he worked, his face suddenly lit up with a sense of accomplishment. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place and the faces and names of suspected triad members who were at Jonathon Randall’s party were corresponding to the Rising Dragons’ file as well as to other prominent triad groups.

“Fergus Claudel? Are you good ... or are you good?” he proudly declared out loud pleased at himself now that he was finally getting some results for analysis.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Engrossed in his task, the young techie failed to notice that Murtagh had finally managed to make it over to Comm. for he was happily piecing together Section One’s dossier on members of the Rising Dragons, and other people of interest from the party. The sudden sound of a voice behind him came as a complete surprise and made him jump. “Hey amigo ... You still here?” Because of the hour, Fergus thought he was alone until he realised that it was only his buddy who had spoken. “Yeah.” “It’s late. What are you working on?” He asked trying to get a look at what it was Fergus was doing. “Just stuff,” he replied nonchalantly. “It’s the mission evaluation, isn’t it?” Murtagh surmised intuitively. “Maybe.” Giving Fergus a craggy smile, his face lit up, “Come on ... You know you can tell me.” Fergus looked around to see who may be watching before replying. This part of Section was eerily quiet now. All the techies who had been assisting him had logged off and had vacated Comm., while he’d been immersed in his own little world going over the data.

 “Yeah.”

“So how come you’re still here then?” “I’m still working on something.” “Yeah ...I can see that. It must be good.” Murtagh then looked him in the eye to gain his friend’s undivided attention and cut to the chase. “Do you know why Jamie’s back in Section?” Fergus continued to study the data on his computer and answered his friend at the same time.  “Operations called him in.” “Was the mission aborted?” He asked fishing for the information he’d guessed at but wasn’t quite sure of... that is until Fergus replied and the pieces started to fall into place. “It was, but Jamie asked me to cover for him because of an anomaly.” “Why? What happened?” Fergus turned back towards his buddy.  “He broke protocol and didn’t come into Section when ordered. Claire was surrounded by hostiles after the mission was aborted. He went in to cover her.” “Sounds like something Jamie would do.” Murtagh’s face broke into a smile and he laughed before voicing his opinion with his next question. “Is that why he’s back in Section without Claire?” “Most likely.” Noting Fergus’ reticent reply he asked for more clarification, “What about Claire?” “Jamie arranged for Abernathy and Wakefield to keep surveillance.” “That’s good.” His friend looked him in the eye and Murtagh could see that Fergus was worried. “I screwed up Murtagh.” “Why? What are you trying to say amigo?’ “I had to inform Operations what was happening at The Triangle." “Hmmm? ... That could have caused a problem.” “Yeah ... it did. Now I’m under the pump. Operations said they’ll cancel me if I fall out of line again.” Murtagh brushed this concern off.  “Nah ... you’re too valuable.” “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m more scared of Jamie’s reaction when I see him.” “Why?” “I had to tell him that Operations knew he had stayed behind.” “Hmm ... I see what you mean,” he answered deep in thought. “Jamie will kill me. I promised that I would cover for him” “Don’t worry, he’ll understand.” “I’m not so sure ... because of it ... Madeline has profiled a new mission for Claire.” “Do you know what?” “I think it’s similar to the Grant Mission.” Murtagh was familiar with the mission Fergus mentioned, and he was not happy. “No! ... You can’t be serious! She wants her to be his girlfriend?” Section’s weapons expert began to pace as a worried look crossed his face. The Grant mission had not turned out well and if Jamie knew that something along the same lines was being planned for Claire ... then he knew there would be trouble brewing for Operations and Madeline if it went ahead. “Jamie won’t like to see Claire in a cover mission so soon after Madame Cheung.” “No ... he won’t that’s for sure. What can we do Murtagh?” “Nothing ... the final decision is with Ops and Madeline.” “True ... but I feel somewhat responsible.” “You can’t blame yourself Fergus ... you had nothing to do with their decision.” “Yeah ... but what will I tell Jamie? How am I going to get out of this one?” “I think you might be on your own amigo. Operations has probably already told him.” “Gee, thanks Murtagh ... that’s just what I wanted to hear!” “When are you going to see Jamie?” At Murtagh Fitzgibbon’s words they both looked up and saw that James Fraser was still in the perch with Dougal Mackenzie. “Soon, I guess. I’ll wait until he gives me some sign or other.” Hearing the despair in his friend’s voice, Murtagh took pity on him. “Don’t worry ... if l think of something I'll get back to you.” “Thanks buddy ... I’ll owe you one.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With Operations’ dismissive words ringing in his ears James Fraser turned on his heel and exited the Perch furious at Claire’s new profile.

The constant baiting to test their relationship by his superiors was wearing a bit thin. Claire had already been through a deep cover mission with Madame Cheung and this new profile was just their attempt to keep them under control. If Madeline and Operations thought he would take this lying down, they had another thing coming. He would certainly check what she’d profiled for her on his PDA as soon as he reached his office along with the other things he planned to do. 

Jamie descended the stairs and strode determinedly through the eerie quietness of the common area while in his mind he was churning over the possible dangers involved for Claire on this new mission scenario.

He would run checks through the system about the targets he had in focus who may be a threat to her safety. Now that her profile had been set, he would also need to be more vigilant as to her protection. Operations’ flippant reply as to Claire’s safety was worrisome too. If she exposed Inspector Jiang Ng as a member of the Rising Dragons, then her life would be in jeopardy especially if he realised just how much she actually knew about him. Jonathon Randall was another proposition altogether. He was not at all happy that his Sassenach would need to be in his company one minute longer than necessary ... and then there was Karen Yee. Claire’s enigmatic neighbour was a conundrum. It was imperative that he was thorough in his search to enable him to piece any Intel he found with his gut feelings about her neighbour Karen. Hopefully Fergus would have something to add on her by now too which would shed light on her relationship with the Rising Dragons. 

Passing through Comm., on his way to his office, Jamie noticed that Fergus Claudel was still in Systems talking to Murtagh Fitzgibbons. He gave him a covert nod aware that Operations would still be watching him from the Perch, letting the techie know he wanted to see him when he was able to get away.

Although Section One’s computer wiz looked a little frazzled when he made eye contact with the imposing figure of James Fraser, he acknowledged Jamie’s directive with a nervous but penetrating glance his way. This was the first time Fergus had seen him since he’d communicated with him at the nightclub. It was obvious by his nervous demeanour that he was still stewing over what he would say to the Level 5 operative when they came face to face. However, Jamie continued past as if nothing had happened rounding the corner out of sight of the Perch and the prying eyes of Operations and entered his office. 

Closing the door firmly behind him, he walked behind his desk and booted his computer typing in his secret code that would give him access to Section One’s classified data. Sitting back in his chair, Jamie looked at his computer for a moment before typing in a set of numbers that opened up the files but disallowed detection of personal usage by Section’s computer surveillance. He then keyed in a search for Claire’s neighbour Karen Yee and waited for any Intel to appear, and for Fergus Claudel to arrive. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Just as he did so, Jamie looked up from his computer when he heard a cautious knock on his door. He saw Fergus put his head in his office.

 “Come in.”

Not being able to decipher what mood James Fraser was in, he entered and quickly closed the door behind him. In trepidation Fergus approached his desk with a computer disk in his hand.

 “You wanted to see me?” he asked nervously, knowing that he had to confront Jamie at some time about breaking his confidence. 

Without looking up at him, Jamie stopped what he was doing. His right hand immediately moved to put the scrambler on to screen his office from Section’s scrutiny while the nervous techie waited until the screen was up until he spoke again. His voice quavered a little not knowing what response he would get.

 “Jamie about ...”

“Dinna fash, it’s okay,” he reassured him then let him off the hook by asking, “How did it go?” Knowing immediately what Jamie was eluding to, Fergus responded, “Not so good.” “Did you find out any Intel on Karen Yee?” “Sorry Jamie, but I’m no closer to finding anything on her. Everything I’ve tried has come up empty.” “What? ... Are you sure?” “As sure as I can be.” “Have you checked in Procedures?” “Yes ... I’ve followed several leads but ... there’s nothing. The woman is clean. What do you want me to do?” “Try checking any incoming or outgoing communications on her landline and cell phone. This is a priority three Fergus.” “What are we looking for?” “Any communication of a suspicious nature.” “Friendly or hostile?” “Hostile ... hidden messages to silent numbers,” Jamie added in clarification. “Okay. I’ll get on to it ASAP.” “Good ... Have you cross referenced her picture with our data base?” “Yes ... there was no match." “There could be another possibility.” Fergus racked his brain thinking of what Jamie could be eluding to, but came up empty. So, he asked. “What?” “A surgical procedure. She could have changed her appearance completely.” “Everything?” “Yes. She could be anyone.” “And without a physical to match to....” His voice stopped in mid-sentence as the penny dropped.

“I know. We need a more personal profile.” “Jamie this could take a while ... We’ll be flying blind. There is very little to go on.” “I understand ... but do anything and everything ye can think of Fergus... she is not an innocent.” “Okay ... I’ll do my best,” he stated in a last ditched desperate effort to do what he could to find any clue as to her identity. “Thank ye ...” “What about her boyfriend Andy Ma? Do you want me to do the same checks on him?” “Yes, we may get lucky there. It might be another avenue to finding out about Karen that could lead us to her real identity.” “I’ll work on it all night if I have to Jamie.” “Thank ye ... By the way ... what’s on the disk?” Looking at the forgotten disk in his hand he replied, “The mission evaluation ... hostiles, causalities, aftermath ... the usual ... it’s all there ....” Fergus handed the disk over to Jamie who placed it on his desk. “I’ll view it. Thank ye Fergus. There might be something ye’ve overlooked.” “Unfortunately, there were no matches for Karen Yee on our data base; however, there were a couple of anomalies ...” “Yes?” Jamie’s voice intonated interest in what Fergus had found out. “It appears that the surveillance inside the nightclub was inactive for most of the fracas. It shows Claire getting separated from Karen and her boyfriend and then it cuts out.” “Hmmm? ... That means that Jonathon Randall is not aware that she was involved in any shootouts.” “Yes ... or you,” he added with a wry smile on his face. “Good.” “Is that all?” “Aye.” Fergus hesitated somewhat. “It looks like it is going to be a long night.”

Then as he made his way to the door to leave, he gave Jamie a final penetrating look before stating the obvious. “It’s necessary for us to be thorough though ... Claire’s safety is at stake.”

His acquiescent look at the techie was Fergus Claudel’s answer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~ James Fraser indeed knew that he was in for a long night. Since Fergus was now checking on Karen Yee and her boyfriend, that left him to check on the man in charge of the OCTB ... Inspector Ng. He needed to find out as much as he could about the Inspector before Claire was ousted by the Chief Commissioner for her new mission profile. Once Fergus left his office Jamie viewed the disk he had given him about the mission tonight. After screening what was on it, he knew that Jiang Ng wasn’t in attendance at the party tonight. However, footage from outside the club showed that he did turn up at the nightclub after the incident with several other police vehicles to investigate the killings and firebombing. Jonathon Randall would have obviously contacted the OCTB and in particular the Inspector to provide a legitimacy to the investigations. The head of the OCTB would be able to personally oversee the case and therefore would be in a position to cover up any sensitive information that may implicate the owner of The Triangle in membership of the Rising Dragons. If the firebombing was triad related, then the reason why members of the Black Panthers and Red Lanterns’ triads, who had started the fracas were at the nightclub, could be suppressed and Jonathon Randall would keep his covert association secret. Jamie had much to do. He began checking his sources in search of any advanced updates or Intel on Inspector Ng but he knew he needed to delve deeper if he were to uncover any covert communication from the Inspector’s office. Any communication he’d had about Claire was critical. He had a couple of options including channels that Fergus had used, but first he decided to call in his marker from an informant who owed him a favour. Reaching for his cell phone Jamie placed a scrambler demodulator to the transmitting mechanism and dialled a secret code number. “Jurgen ... can ye speak freely?” “Yes.” “I need information ...” “You’re a man of your word James Fraser; I wouldn’t do this for anyone else. I owe you for Korea. So, tell me, what’s this about? How can I help?” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~ What Jamie had suspected was confirmed by his informant. It appeared that Inspector Ng had been making inquiries about Claire after all, but had been coming up empty handed. Information about her credentials was available but her assignments for the Hong Kong Water Police had been suppressed. The only Intel he had been privy to was that Claire had been given leave to go on vacation while she was in Hong Kong. Whether this had piqued his curiosity or not was debatable, but Jamie knew Inspector Ng was a smart man and he could possibly put two and two together and make his own conclusions. Inspector Ng was a major player who could blow Claire’s cover out of the water. He was, in Jamie’s opinion, their number one priority to bring into Section. Catching him unawares would be his plan and not before too long. The investigations on the firebombing and shootings could be his Achilles heel and he could be vulnerable while inquiries were pending. It could be the perfect time to make a move on the elusive head of the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau. Knowing Fergus would contact him if he found out any Intel on the couple he had under surveillance, Jamie finally prepared to leave Section One to return to Hong Kong. Given that he also trusted Joe Abernathy and Roger Wakefield to do their job as ordered and keep a close eye on Karen and Andy while he was not there to do it himself, he knew what needed to be done. There were too many things that could go wrong and he wanted to cover all bases where Claire’s safety was concerned. The violence that had perpetrated tonight was the tip of the iceberg. Now that there were rival triads mustering in on Jonathon Randall would she be safe? He would have none of it. The profile planned for his Sassenach to get closer to him could backfire and she could be placed in extreme danger. If he couldn’t be with Claire 24 hours a day, he could do the next best thing. He would be there as back up and he could cover the movements of those under suspicion ... and until Fergus had something more concrete on Karen Yee and Andy Ma, he didn’t want to alarm her. But being forewarned was forearmed. He would do his best to keep his Claire safe at all costs.

Hopefully a scenario to avoid her meeting with Jonathon Randall may present itself which would give him some more time to put an alternative plan into action.

Therefore, the sooner he returned to Hong Kong, and back to his Sassenach, the better.

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

[thepartyresponsible]

fourth drabble! i’m still working on drabbles from this list. this one’s for @izumikouhei​, who asked for tony stark/bruce wayne with 66. “if i die, i’m never speaking to you again.”

for the record, there’s bonus roy harper/jason todd. no real warnings for this one, except that it’s ridiculous and kinda fluffy.

also, i failed spectacularly to keep this one under 1000 words. damn, did i fail.

It could have been anyone and anything, but it’s a kid on a rooftop, out of his mind on fear toxin, and it’s a four-story drop crashing through a poorly-enforced fire escape. Batman ends his nightly patrol with a broken arm and three broken ribs and a concussion so mean he can barely stand up without puking.  

The kid is fine, though. Of course he’s fine. Bruce sacrificed his grappling line to save him.

“Yeah,” Jason says, when he shoulders his way into the Manor, drops his duffel bag at the door, and lets Alfred wrap him in a hug. “Yeah, whatever. Beacons are lit. Gotham calls for aid. Here I am.”

“Oh good,” Tony Stark says, peering inquisitively over Alfred’s shoulder, drinking what is either a glass of orange juice or a casual mid-morning screwdriver. “I was hoping someone sturdy would show up.”

  It should be Dick’s problem, but Dick’s doing something complicated with the Titans that involves a lot of fraught interpersonal dynamics and new uniforms and maybe the apocalypse. It could also be Tim’s problem, except he’s at summer camp with the Teen Titans or whatever the hell they do when they all collectively disappear for a while, and Damian, of course, is around, in the sense that he’s always around, but Jason doesn’t trust Gotham to his tender mercies.

Damian’s a promising enough kid, but he’s also potentially the Antichrist. And if the kid gets killed, Jason’s going to have to deal with Bruce in mourning, and he doesn’t have the stomach for that kind of showy, resolute self-martyrdom anymore.

So it’s Jason’s problem. He packs his bags, lets Roy kiss him goodbye, and then he heads to Gotham. He even has the decency to leave his guns behind. He feels a little stupid about that once he discovers he’s patrolling with Iron Man, but it turns out Stark’s swapped all his ammunition for non-lethal rounds.

“Of course I did,” Stark says, three nights in. Dawn’s slowly bruising the skyline, and they’re drinking ice water on the rooftop of Wayne Manor, trying to cool off after another bullshit night of sweating through their body armor. Stark clears his throat and then drops his voice, approximating Bruce’s Batman-growl with impressive accuracy. “If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world remains the same.”

Jason groans and presses the cold glass to his forehead. It doesn’t help as much as he wants it to. “He’s such an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Stark says, with a wide, affectionate grin. “And surprisingly bad at math.”

Jason doesn’t mind working with Stark. He’s like a funhouse mirror version of Bruce: too rich, too smart, too good at what he does, but stretched-out and wrongly-proportioned, all that grim resolve replaced with good-natured purpose, that laser point attention swapped with a cat’s capricious focus.

The Iron Man suit is fun, and Jason wants one of his own, but he’s content to keep dropping his tech on the breakfast table and watching as Stark’s concentration is slowly but inevitably drawn away from his coffee.

“You owe me, like. Hm.” Stark pauses, tips his head. They’re down in the Batcave, and Stark’s upgrading Jason’s rebreather. “Shit, how many things have I fixed for you? What is this? The…seventh? Do you know what my time’s worth?”

“Put it on Bruce’s tab,” Jason suggests. He’s texting Roy, who’s frothing at the mouth trying to get himself an invite. He’s got some kind of bizarre inventor’s crush on Tony Stark.

Stark goes still for a second and then laughs. He stifles it quickly, which is out of character.

When Jason looks up, Stark has his head ducked, mouth flat, and his cover is so egregiously shitty that he might as well be whistling innocuously with his hands in his pockets.

“Huh,” Jason says, just so they’re clear. Just so Stark knows that Jason knows that some weird shit is afoot.

“You know what you need?” Tony says, damn near doing jazz hands in his completely transparent attempt to redirect the conversation. “Repulsors.”

There’s one bad night where Jason lets Scarecrow dose him because getting drugged is better than letting the creep touch Damian, and then Jason’s out of his head, fucked up, clinging to the Iron Man suit while they skim through Gotham.

“Graveyard,” he says, because his mouth is full of imaginary blood and his fingernails feel broken to the nailbed and he’s been screaming for days, for years, for lifetimes. “Don’t take me to the graveyard.”

“Hey, scout,” Tony says, which is offensive. Which is bullshit. Jason is twenty-two years old. “I’m taking you home, okay?”

He takes him to Bruce’s house, and Alfred fusses, and someone asks, “Can I get anyone for you, kid?” and so Jason says, “Roy, I need Roy,” even though he doesn’t, not really, but he knows he’ll feel better if Roy’s there.

And then Roy is there, sitting suited up at Jason’s bedside, bow in hand, and it’s ridiculous, it’s all made-up, it’s fine. But. It’s nice, having someone on watch.

In the morning, Roy steps out to grab breakfast and comes back wide-eyed and red-cheeked. “Holy shit,” he says, under his breath. “Holy shit, Jay, it’s like walking in on your parents.”

And Jason’s got no fucking clue what he means by that, but he’s too wrung out to ask for clarification. He rolls onto his side, lets Roy scramble up into bed beside him, and then he makes soft pathetic noises until Roy pours just the right amount of sugar into his coffee.

Eventually, Bruce gets well enough to become a Goddamn nuisance. As soon as he’s cleared to sit in front of the screens in the Batcave for a couple hours a day, he decides, naturally, to play backseat driver while Jason and Tony run patrol.

He is fucking insufferable.

“Red Hood, on your right—on your right.”

“Iron Man, this is a street brawl, not a dance competition.”

“Hood, you could have shattered his scapula with that. Be careful.”

“Iron Man, the disarming sequence is—no, stop that, I have it right here. Stop it.”

Jason daydreams a lot about punching Bruce in the mouth. Tony Stark, for his part, just laughs and fires back.

“Oh no,” he says, when he’s disarming the bomb that’s supposed to level a city block. “Oh, how clumsy of me.”

“Iron Man,” Bruce says, voice tight.

“Whoops,” Tony says, while Jason coughs into his comm unit to hide his laughter.

“Iron Man,” he says, voice so low and tense that Bruce’s vocal chords might as well be glaciers grinding together.

“Gotham is just so dangerous,” Tony says. “If I die, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“Tony,” Bruce says, and there’s something weird in it, something held back.

The bomb goes dead and harmless at Tony’s feet. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says. “But I’m still better with explosives than you are. Don’t play tech support with me.”

The thing is, Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne don’t usually spend time together. They could. They both have that playboy billionaire thing to lean into, and there’s a whole series of archived news articles about their exploits in their early twenties. And Jason remembers, dimly, that Tony came by the house once or twice before that regrettable incident in the desert with the Joker and the crowbar.

Something happened between them after Jason died. Or maybe after Tony had his own regrettable incident in the desert.

“Why’re you here?” Jason asks, finally. Because it’s been three weeks, and Bruce is starting to train like he thinks he’ll be suiting up soon. Which means this vacation is almost over, and Jason’s going back to the Outlaws, and Tony’s going back to the Avengers, and Bruce is going back to brooding on rooftops. “I mean, I’m glad you are. Thanks for the upgrades. But Bruce is kind of an asshole, you know?”

Tony laughs into his coffee. There’s a vaguely evasive look on his face, and he’s smiling for no damn reason at all. “Bruce,” he says, with a shrug. “We grew up together. Even went to the same boarding schools a couple times.”

Jason cannot imagine Bruce as a child. “Before his parents died?” he asks, because that’s the part that seems impossible. Bruce Wayne, as a kid with parents, as someone with a future instead of a mission.

“Sure.” Tony shrugs; his smile disappears. “And after. We went to each other’s parents’ funerals. He brought a flask to mine, even though he never approved of—well. That’s how you know about people, isn’t it? At least with someone like Bruce. When they’ll give in, just a little. Because it’s something you need.”

Jason wouldn’t know about that. After all, the Joker’s still walking.

Although maybe, if he thinks about it, there’s a hundred different ways Bruce has compromised for him. And if he hasn’t done the one thing that would mean the most, maybe that’s because there are parts of yourself you can’t ever give away. Maybe Jason’s old enough to understand that now. Because, in the end, Jason hasn’t killed the Joker either.

“Sure,” he says. But he’s thinking about Roy. He’s thinking about Roy dopesick and shaking and terrified. He’s thinking about Roy, clean and steady and brave.

Tony finally looks over at him. His smile is crooked and fond. “You’re a good kid,” Tony tells him. “You’re all good kids. Don’t know how the hell Bruce managed it. But good for him.”

They were good kids before Bruce Wayne. They would’ve been good kids without Bruce Wayne.

But Jason’s ready to acknowledge, in the privacy of his own head, that maybe they’d also all be dead kids without Bruce Wayne.

Tony Stark stays for a month and a half. He and Bruce spend the last week fighting, loudly and dramatically, over every single improvement Tony’s made to the Batcave while Bruce was too busy trying not to throw up on his shoes to stop him. Jason and Roy sneak down to watch, but Roy keeps getting antsy and dragging Jason out before things can get too heated.

“You’re just not ready,” Roy tells him, earnestly. “Your virgin eyes, Jason. I mean it.”

“My virgin what?” Jason asks, incredulous.

“Your slutty eyes,” Roy amends, conciliatory.

“That’s—wow.” Jason stares at him. “That’s even worse.”

“Aw, c’mon, baby,” Roy says, mock-apologetic. “You know I love how slutty you are.”

“Great,” Jason says. “Awesome. So, we’re breaking up. You can move out tonight. Never speak to me again. It’s been terrible, and I won’t miss you at all.”

“Oh no,” Roy says, eyes wide, sounding so legitimately devastated that Jason has to kiss him, immediately.

Roy snickers into his mouth, which really underscores to Jason how out of his depth he is, how much of him Roy owns completely.

“I hate you,” Jason tells him, because it’s been years but I love you still feels like a jinx, like an invitation to the universe to break his fucking heart.

Roy grins at him, immensely pleased with himself. “Hell yes,” he says, “I love hate sex. Let’s go.”

Jason’s not an idiot. He has an idea of what’s going on. He knows two adult men don’t spend that much time together passionately discussing differences of opinion on technical innovation unless they plan to get naked at some point. He knows what it means when Tony’s eyes go warm and distant like they do sometimes when he talks about Bruce. He knows what it means that Tony’s here at all.

It’s just that he figures Bruce Wayne is fucking everything up, the way he always does. He figures Bruce is crashing headlong through the world in grim, determined pursuit of the best, fastest, most justice-glorifying path from Point A to Point B without realizing that Point C has more merits than he deserves.

He figures it’s one-sided. He figures Bruce is going to break Tony’s heart. He figures Tony’s going to let him, has been letting him.

And then he turns a corner on Tony’s last morning in town and walks right into the kind of goodbye kiss that needs an age restriction warning.

“Oh, Christ,” Jason says and slams his eyes shut. A second later, Roy’s hand slaps down hard across his face, palm wrapping protectively across his eyes. It stings a little, honestly, but Jason forgives him for it. He just wishes he’d been faster.

“Oh God,” Roy says, “I warned you! I told you it’s like walking in on your parents!”

“Stop it.” Jason hisses through his teeth, clinging to Roy’s arm. “Get me out of here, fuck’s sake.”

“Your kids are so cute, Bruce,” Tony says. Jason feels endlessly betrayed by the smug amusement in his voice. He’s been fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with this man for a month and a half, and he had no idea he was such a shameless philanderer.

Jesus, just tongue-deep in each other’s mouths right in the hallway, where God and Alfred and Damian could walk by at any moment.

“Only one of those is mine,” Bruce says. He sounds – terrifyingly – like he is out of breath.

Jason wretches, audibly. Roy hauls him against his chest and starts dragging him to safety, back the way they came.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tony says. His voice is deliberately pitched loud enough to follow them. “Looks like you’ve practically got yourself a son-in-law.”

“Roy,” Jason says, “just kill me. I’m done with this earth.”

“Aw, Jay,” Roy says, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Jason’s head, “don’t give up. We’ll go find the Scarecrow, see if he can bleach it outta your head with more of that fear toxin.”

“God willing,” Jason says, low and fervent. 

Jason and Roy go out a window on the second floor, just to be sure they don’t run into Tony and Bruce defiling any other hallways with their goodbyes. Jason’s not proud of it. But he’s finally learned the merits of a well-executed retreat.

It turns out to be unnecessary though, because Tony’s already down in the driveway, climbing into an offensively beautiful red sports car. Jason braces a hand against Roy’s chest to keep him from throwing himself at the hood to get to the engine.

“Hey, kids,” Tony calls, waving jovially. His mouth is very red. Jason is prepared, at this moment, to offer his soul to the multiverse.

“Hey,” Roy says, voice reverent, eyes running all over the car with a licentiousness that would make Jason blind with jealousy if he were looking at a human being.

“Last time Bruce fooled around with someone,” Jason says, “he spawned the Antichrist. So you just think about that the next time you mix your bodily fluids.”

“Oh no, my girlish figure.” Tony does not seem to be taking this as seriously as Jason means it.

“Bodily fluids,” Roy says, under his breath. He doesn’t seem to be taking it seriously, either.

Jason curls his hands around the car door, pins Tony with a look of grave concern. “Listen,” he says. “You deserve so much better than that shithead in there. He’s a disaster. He is the definition of emotional constipation. He knows everyone’s blood type and nobody’s birthday, and he gives up kidney stones easier than personal information, and he absolutely has a plan for how to neutralize you if necessary, and he honestly, legitimately, no-shit thinks that’s what teamwork means.”

“Kiddo, pal, Red Hoodlum,” Tony says, giving Jason’s hand an encouraging pat. “That’s my emotionally constipated shithead disaster in there, and I’d thank you to remember it.”

Sometimes, there’s nothing you can do to save people from themselves.

Jason steps away from the car and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry you’ve chosen to do this to yourself,” he says. “You seem like a perfectly decent human being.”

“It’s been a real treasure working with you, too, scout,” Tony says. He glances over Jason’s shoulder toward Roy and smiles wider. “And, hey, Wayne-In-Law, if you ever want to talk shop some more, swing by SI. You’d love the labs.”

“Oh my God,” Roy says, very quietly. And then, louder, “Oh, okay, sure! Maybe! Next time I’m in town.”

Tony nods, smiles again, and then turns toward the manor and blows a giant, ridiculous kiss over his shoulder.

And Jason thinks he’s an idiot, thinks he’s just asking to get his heart broken, but there, on the third floor, is the subtle but unmissable shift of curtains falling back. Bruce Wayne was up there, lurking through a final goodbye, and Jason honestly needs to get out of this town immediately.

He climbs on his bike, waits for Roy to do the same. And then, just to see how far this lunacy has spread, he texts Grayson: Did you know Stark and Bruce are fucking?

Dick texts back a string of fruit-themed emojis that Jason instantaneously blanks from his brain. A second later, Dick sends: You didn’t see the pics from Stark Expo???

“Roy,” Jason says, “I love you. Let’s go somewhere with no wifi signal.”

[chubbyooo]

Old Wounds part 2 - A Blurred Lines Spinoff

My writing brain is going crazy right now so here we go with the second part of the spinoff after this things will be back tied up. This will also be the first time I’ve told a story from an existing characters perspective so hope it’s ok

Lana tries her best to run the alliance exasperated with the advisors who are seemingly absent and hears a voice she hasn’t heard in a long time

5-7 years later…

Lana shut off the holo with a audible sigh, she put her hands on her forehead slumping in her chair

From the corner the protocol droid D3-EZ coked its head “is everything ok miss Beniko?” she looked to the droid grumpily

Lana shook her head “no Ezzy I just need a minute” Ezzy nodded staying still, Lana sighed protocal droids never got the message “that means leave Ez” Ezzy nodded leaving the room without a word.

Lana dragged her fingers down her face this was not what she needed right now, Zakuul were finally leaving the alliance saying they could ‘make it on their own’ they had been threatening to do it for months but she thought they were bluffing. It wasn’t that she was afraid they could ‘make it on their own’ they were bound to come crawling back but the alliance couldn’t afford with this war on the horizon and the alliances place in the galaxy being questioned. She clenched her fists against the desk it certainly didn’t help that the alliances two other advisors had decided to disappear now out of nowhere. She had hoped the commander would be much help but Kyradia was clearly ‘affected’ by whatever falling out she had with Kavaraa and was choosing to just sign whatever Lana put in front of her. Lana had never wanted to be in charge of the alliance but she had to do her best for the galaxy she just wished everyone else would do the same. She held her fingers on the bridge of her nose she couldn’t remember the last time she got a break and Kavaraa and Theron go off on a surprise ‘honeymoon’ sure that’s fair. Just because she was alone she didn’t get a chance to take holidays? She didn’t blame Theron though he was following her for love Lana could understand that but did all this have to happen right now it’s like the universe was cruelly mocking her.

She looked through documents for a couple minutes before she saw a holocall from Theron Shan flashing on her display. Speak of the devil she answered the holocall as Theron flashed in to view looking stressed, that certainly made two of them.

Lana folder her arms “Theron, good to hear from you is this ‘honeymoon’ nearly over I can’t handle everyones paperwork you know” Lana could hear what sounded like distant discussion with a signature excitable tone familiar to her as the Jedi Basen’thor

Theron looked away “uh well not exactly we found a kid” Lana frowned a kid? so what

she was not in the mood for excuses “and is this kid stopping you from coming back?” Theron coughed awkwardly as Lana bore down on him

Theron mumbled “he found some sort of map it leads to knowledge or some force stuff and now Kavaraa wants to find it” Lana let out a long sigh of course knowing Kavaraa they were probably already on their way

Lana frowned at Theron “you know I can’t just run this all by myself” Theron nodded clearly understanding

Theron tugged at his collar “yeah I know Lana but this could give us information to stop powerful people like maybe Malgus” Lana had to admit he had a point but he wasn’t getting out of this so easy

Lana leant forward messing with the console “ok but this is no longer a vacation for you so here’s the deal you help me with running the alliance like normal and I wont rat you out to your wife about calling me with updates sound fair” yes it was technically blackmail but she was running an alliance and Theron would have done the same to her

Theron squirmed “well you’ve got me in quite the box here Beniko fine I guess this i what I get for being friends with a sith” Lana raised her eyebrow well that helped a little with the workload “so what’s been going on with the alliance then so I’m up to date”

Lana held her forehead remembering the situation “bad news Zakuul finally went ‘independent’ today” Theron grimaced messing with a datapad

“why they don’t have the infrastructure the planet’s gonna fall apart” Lana was fully aware those people had never know a hard day in their life before the eternal empire was brought down so now they blamed the alliance how do you break down that kind of ego?

Lana sighed “believe me Theron I know but you know how people can be” Theron nodded

Theron rubbed his forehead “how long till they come crawling back” Lana had done a rough calculation and explained it to them but they were vigilant her scientific data was somehow incorrect

Lana shrugged “the bottom line is too long we could really have used Zakuul even without the fleet” Lana’s mind drifted to Koth and the gravestone she wondered if they would be in a different situation without his interference with it.

Theron sighed “of course they had to do this right now when everything is so fractured” Lana nodded the alliance should be better than squabbling but clearly some people didn’t feel the same way

Lana frowned “well that’s not exactly our fault is it Theron” Theron reluctantly nodded “we have to end this argument between them Theron it’s petty and it seems like most of the ill will is on your wifes end.” Lana knew the fight was coming but she hoped it wouldn’t do this she hoped it’d clear the air so they could move on but clearly she had overestimated the two of them.

Theron grimaced “I’ll try my best Lana but you gotta admit she has good reason to be mad” Lana nodded Jedi were always like this stubborn and set in their ways well except a few.

Lana sighed “I’m not asking for a miracle Theron but just try to point her in the right direction” she ended the call and leant back. Theron would help with paperwork that was something one less thing on the incredibly long list of things she had to do, she wasn’t very confident Theron would change Kavaraa’s mind she was stubborn and Theron was in love with her. He’d probably follow her into anything she kinda got it she had been in love before but that was a long time ago, she’d never admitted it to him either so no point getting into it.

But that was 5 years ago this was now she had work to do, she heard the comm suddenly breaking her out of her daydream as the robotic voice of Ezzy came through “Miss Nadia Grell to see you Miss Beniko” Nadia? Kavaraa’s old apprentice? what did she want?

Lana responded “send her in Ezzy” she sighed an advisors job was never finished. Nadia walked into the room shuffling to the chair awkwardly

she looked away “um hello miss Beniko I uh just came to uh tell you about a distress call from the uh Basen’thors temple” wow she was nervous she shouldn’t be that was a perfectly fair thing to tell her.

Lana nodded “thanks for bringing this to my attention Nadia I’ll have someone investigate right away” she had a great idea for who perfect way to get Kyradia feeling nostalgic

Nadia cleared her throat “I actually wanted to ask for permission to go myself actually” Lana smiled that was sweet but she had a feeling Nadia and Kyradia would not get on well

Lana shook her head “no don’t worry about it I’ll make sure to get some experienced people to deal with it, don’t want to drag you away from your work” Nadia nodded seemingly understanding Lana believed she worked in the archives.

Nadia smiled “well uh thanks for the help and I’ll uh be going” Lana nodded as Nadia left. She took a second staring at the door ok no one else to talk to? good she could take a second. After a few minutes she got up she had to tell Kyradia about the mission to Yavin.

later…

Lana entered her quarters tired after a long day, the commander had taken the mission and was on her way to Yavin IV meaning she was officially the only one left. This was gonna be a grueling couple of weeks, she opened up the fridge she still had some leftovers good she really had no time to cook today. She got herself a cup of tea and sat down on her couch, she sighed another day another problem at least she had a little time to rest. She flicked through the news and was unsurprised to see an article about Zakuul apparently they were having longer and longer power cuts since departing from the alliance and now the support was entirely gone, part of the city was blacked out for a full minute. Lana chuckled big surprise there, she sipped her tea in the silent quarters she certainly had made them her own but it still felt kinda empty it certainly was more homely than her old acolytes chambers. Between then and now she hadn’t really had any other solid homes, could be worse though she didn’t live in a ship once the leftovers were finished she used the force to pull a holobook out of her tiny bookshelf. She liked books a little escapism was always good this one was about a tribe completely unaware of the galaxy around them, she imagined that could be quite nice certainly a lot less stressful the struggles were all quite simple but still felt real and there was a lot less politics. She continued to read until her eyes fluttered closed falling asleep curled up on the couch but then sometime later she was awoken suddenly.

“LANA!” a voice wrung out in her head the voice was deep and basey but she recognised it in a second

She looked around the room “D-Dzûsa??” she could see no sign of him the man she hadn’t seen in over seven years.

The voice, his voice spoke in her head “I d-don’t h-have long come to Zakuul I’m u-und…” the voice trailed off she sat up flustered

Lana tried her best to respond “Dzûsa where are you?” she shouted into the chamber but there was no response. Lana took a deep breath was she crazy? she couldn’t have heard that right? but it was definitely him the man she hadn’t spoken too since Sullust. ‘Come to Zakuul’ was he there? how could he be they had scoured that planet for prisons they would’ve found him she certainly thought she would’ve sensed him. She had only given up hope on him once Valkorion was defeated, in every prison they went to she searched and searched but to no avail, she had tried and tried to sense him but it was like he was somehow gone. What should she do she couldn’t just leave the alliance but he was well he could be alive and he may be what the alliance needs right now hero of Tython and all that. She sighed she had to try even if it lead nowhere she could put the issue to bed for good, she quickly put on her sith robes and headed out the door.

later…

Lana brought her ship down into the Zakuul spaceport as she dialed up Senya Tirall on her holocommunicator, a tired looking Senya appeared within a minute

Senya frowned “yes Lana was this so pressing it couldn’t wait till the morning” Lana wasn’t usually the one to do crazy things it felt very strange to be the one leaving without a word

Lana tried her best to smile “uh well yes I’m not on Odessen I’m uh looking into something on Zakuul so I would very much appreciate it if you could look after the alliance” Senya gave her a curious look

she chuckled “you’ve been spending too much time with Theron and Kavaraa, why me?” Lana chuckled understanding the irony of the situation

Lana grinned “well you raised the Tiralls this’ll be a piece of cake by comparison” Senya laughed

Senya nodded “very well I can look after things” she turned off the holo phew someone she trusted was in charge, at first she thought Hylo could handle it then she realised how terrible it would be to leave the underworld in control of the alliance.

She left her ship in a hurry making her way out the spaceport and towards the spire as she walked she could she the lights flicker on and off this power situation was bad. However at the spire she saw Indo Zal waiting there with a few guards

he proceeded to shuffle up to her awkwardly “um Miss Beniko as I told you before Zakuul is now independent and you wont convince us otherwise” Lana stood still her eyes narrowing at Indo

Lana kept the scowl as Indo squirmed “don’t worry Indo I’m not here for Zakuul don’t think yourself so important to me that I’d come here myself” Indo seemed to stifle his anger aware of Lana’s power good “I just need to get into the spire I think I have missed something” she walked up to Indo standing over him “are you going to stop me?” Indo shook his head

he gestured to the lift “r-right this way miss Beniko” Lana made her way into the lift closing it before Indo could join her, she didn’t hate him but she did hate the ego of the people in charge of this planet acting like they ruled the galaxy.

The lift slowly rose up the spire soon arriving at the seat of the eternal throne, Lana made her way out the whole room was dusty it had been abandoned after everything that happened. Once the most powerful place in the galaxy now just a dusty old relic, she chuckled kinda like Valkorion. She remembered the fight for the throne protecting Kyradia from Skytroopers while Kavaraa battled the old emperors wrath they fought as one back then what had changed. That’s not what she was here for though she got a datapad out hoping to slice into the blueprints of the spires she must have missed something. She had just got them up when the room suddenly went dark, she watched as the lights on Zakuul began to flicker out nearly the whole city went out this time. She couldn’t help but smile maybe her calculations had been wrong they were in dire straights.

She stared at the datapad trying to find some inconstancy “Lana you made it” she heard the voice again she looked around as the power turned back on

Lana tried to see if Dzûsa here but she’d be able to see the huge form on the pureblood “Dzûsa are you there?” she waited but there was no response damn it she nearly had him. He was here though two times was a coincidence three times was evidence, she turned back to her data pad as the power dipped again.

she noted the points she had already checked “I’m here, I’m below” Lana heard his voice again below below where? she frowned he had spoken to her during the power cuts he had to that was no coincidence and he was below. She looked at all the power plants they had cleared she chuckled remembering Koth’s insane idea to save the power station during the rescue of Kyradia. But that wasn’t the only power they had right, she followed the power lines down there were a few transformers relatively near to the core for geothermal power. Lana frowned that would be crazy there was hardly any way to get there, but one was below the spire maybe the lift had some secret function?.

Lana went back over to the lift there had to be something she could do, she began trying her best to slice into the console by the force she wished Theron was here he’d have it open in seconds. After a few minutes the lift had locked her out, she lashed out at the wall in anger creating a small dent, huh maybe she didn’t need to slice it this was dangerous but definitely achievable. She closed her eyes reaching out with the force, she channeled all her anger for Zakuul, for Valkorion for everything that lead her to have to do this and began pulling the lift down with the force. The lift shot down reaching the bottom of the spire within minutes but now what if she went deeper, if there was nothing it’d just break the lift a bit. She pushed down and to her surprise it kept going a burst of anger flowed out making the lift descend even faster slamming down against the bottom of the shaft with a bang. Lana staggered forward feeling the force of what she had just done, so much for subtlety as she forced the doors open she sensed Dzûsa’s presence it was here nearby.

She could hear the sounds of magma close by they must be really far down, Lana crept out making her way through the chamber until she came to a large door that slid open as she got near.

She held herself steady against the wall listening in to two voices “I’m sorry sir I’m trying everything but we don’t have the network to support the power surges anymore” well that at least explained the blackouts

A deep terse voice responded “I don’t care about keeping Zakuul powered Valkorion has stated that this is more important so do as I say” the voice sounded familiar from where she had no idea

the other voice responded “that’s the problem I don’t have the power to do that anymore are you sure we should still be doing this we haven’t got an update from up top in over a year” well she knew why that was did they seriously still think Valkorion was in control

The deep voice sneered back “I said DO IT so DO IT got it” Lana crept into the room her eyes widening as she did, the room was an open walkway magma was flowing behind glass and in the middle of the room shackled to what looked like a four pronged transformer was Dzûsa. His hair was greying with a few white streaks he looked so much older and weaker, Lana saw him turn to him with a very slight smile. She felt a tear well up in her eye she couldn’t believe he was here after she had given up on him used as a god damn power source for Valkorion. She felt her sadness wash away replaced with a white hot rage, she turned to the console where the figures were arguing and her rage only deepened as she saw the face of Dûshto Zâtan shouting at a human male.

Within seconds she pulled in into her grip her hands tight around his neck his eyes widened as he noticed her face “remember me bitch” Dûshto’s face was wracked with shock as he tried to escape the grip. Lana felt every bit of the pain she’d felt over the last 5 years come back as she chocked Dûshto this man had kept Dzûsa prisoner after the Eternal empire was defeated and why for some sick vengeance.

https://open.spotify.com/track/1fl5TvpPkPjx8zo45HY0UQ?si=iXzAJ4IeQomp5RoIi-Pftg

Dûshto’s face crept into an eerie smile as he grabbed a knife stabbing her in the side “yes Blondie it’ll be a shame to have come all this way to fail how disappointing” Lana dropped Dûshto holding her side. She gritted her teeth fighting through the pain as they both ignited their lightsabers, she lunged forward with three slashes that caused Dûshto to stumble back as he parried each strike.

His unnatural grin only increased “you’ve waited all this time why not be with your precious Dzûsa” Lana felt herself thrown towards the transformer as she crashed against one of the prongs she felt the current flow through her causing her to writhe in pain. She felt her rage explode but knew she had to channel it she focussed on the electricity beginning to gain control over it as it flowed through her arms. She dropped to the ground to see Dûshto looking at her wide eyed she clicked her neck letting out a volley of crackling energy that surrounded him. He shrieked out in pain as she threw him against the glass wall, a small crack appeared in the wall as she slammed him against the wall again and again, she could feel the electricity waining as the glass broke with her next hit. Magma flowed in to the room leeching out to that side of the chamber stopping just before the console, Dûshto narrowly managed to avoid it with a roll landing across the room from her. Lana threw her saber at Dûshto as he sprinted towards her, once he was close Lana jumped over him pulling her saber back into her hand she landed behind Dûshto and went to slice at his back.

She made a laceration along his back as he cried out in pain turning around with a snarl “ok then Blondie let’s get serious” she could see him reach out with the force pulling another of the transformer prongs out of the ground then throwing at her. She wasn’t going to dodge though she could do this she reached out with the force her rage taking control of the prong throwing it back around towards him. To her disappointment he dodged as the thing speared into the glass crackling with electricity while the magma melted the metal, Dûshto looked from her to Dzûsa and then smiled he pulled the other two prongs out of the ceiling throwing them to the side.

Dzûsa began to fall towards the magma but Lana quickly reached out with the force trying to pull him away but Dûshto also had his grip on Dzûsa holding him in place, he chuckled “not so tough now Blondie your powers or my brother you choose” Lana did her best to hold Dzûsa steady but she couldn’t do it forever she could see the magma getting closer and closer. Dûshto swiped at her clumsily as she parried equally clumsily this was completely throwing off both their abilities with the force.

Lana’s eyes widened she knew what to do she smiled at Dûshto “who said anything about the force” with that she jumped into the air bringing her leg round for a vicious roundhouse kick against Dûshto’s face, he was caught completely oof guard and staggered back as Lana kicked him again he fell back into the magma with a cry. Lana felt Dûshto’s concentration on holding Dzûsa up falter and she quickly focussed her attention on catching Dzûsa holding him up just before he hit the magma. She lifted him across as she could hear Dûshto’s cries of pain from behind her, Dzûsa landed on the ground breathing heavily Lana immediately rushed to his side to see if he was ok.

She was suddenly pulled into a big hug as Dzûsa pulled her off the ground swinging her around “hahahaha I knew you’d understand” his deep voice boomed well he may look older but he still had the same energy that was good.

Her set her down immediately taking a tired knee Lana held his hand “are you ok?” seemed like a silly question he certainly didn’t look ok but she had to ask

Dzûsa smiled warmly “I’m fine that was just kinda taxing probably shouldn’t have done it” Lana had missed that smile she pulled him into a long hug “absolutely worth it”

She felt her rage melt away as tears entered her eyes “I’ve missed you so much” she felt Dzûsa move his arm in force like motion what was he doing

Dzûsa laughed “why we never even went on a date” Lana glowered at him

Lana lightly punched his arm “we both know it was more than that even if I was too embarrassed to admit it” Dzûsa smiled nodding. Lana noticed the screams had stopped she turned around to see Dûshto not burning in the magma but unconscious on the walkway burnes covered his back and lower half. She turned back to Dzûsa “you’re still letting him live” she was ready to kill him five times over how was Dzûsa ok with this.

Dzûsa nodded “I know but I’ve had a lot of time to think, that man is not my brother not anymore but if I am every to see my brother again he needs to find it himself, there is no part of me that wants vengeance on anyone not anymore” Lana leant in and kissed him, he was just the same just as kinda hearted it had been years of torture and he was still that sweet big oaf.

Lana pulled away “I’ve missed that, come on let’s get out of here” Dzûsa nodded as Lana helped him to the elevator. Lana remembered oh no would the lift still work? she pressed on the console and to her relief it whirred to life and slowly began to rise up.

Lana turned to Dzûsa “sooooo this lift is gonna take a while” Dzûsa turned to Lana colour seemed to be returning to his face as he began to be able to stand by himself

Dzûsa frowned “here right now?” Lana nodded kissing him maybe Theron wasn’t so wrong about that romance thing

later…

Lana made sure her robes were all in order as the lift finally opened, it was much slower without her force power but she hadn’t minded that. She could see Indo still waiting there looking surprised to see two figures exit the lift, she noticed the power begin to dim and go completely out now well that was awfully unfortunate at least the lift had still worked.

Lana raised her eyebrow at Indo “my my Zakuul certainly seems to be prospering without the alliance” she pushed past Indo back towards her ship

Indo stuttered “um Miss Beniko if we could just talk for a sec-” Lana was not gonna deal with this right now

Lana smiled “if you want to discuss alliance matters you know how to contact me Indo but I doubt you would want to after leaving” with that she lead Dzûsa back to her ship where they quickly took off leaving Zakuul to its problems.

After she put the ship into Hyperspace she made sure Dzûsa got some tea and a blanket, she sat down next to him. Lana shuffled awkwardly “so I don’t know how to ask this but uh what happened to you?” Dzûsa sipped his tea quietly

he cleared his throat “when I last saw you I got a lead saying a clue to Vitiates whereabouts was on Nathema and uh the clue was from my sister” Lana nodded ok that at least explained why his crew didn’t know where he was “Naturally I barrelled off into danger without a second thought and once I arrived I found the uh testing facility for Vaylin I think your familiar with her” Lana nodded “and Vaylin to put it simply completely outclassed me I quickly lost and Vaylin would have murdered me if Valkorion hadn’t stepped in” Lana nodded remembering her own encounters with Vaylin she wasn’t too surprised “instead Valkorion decided the ultimate revenge would be to make me power the very city he controlled, some kind of cruel irony” Valkorion, of course killing his enemies would never be enough “he constructed what you and Dûshto destroyed to torture my every moment and sap me of my force energy making sure I’d never be able to escape” Lana nodded she felt bad for acting like her last five years were bad by comparison they were great “and that power was turned into electricity somehow, about a few months in I got a new supervisor Dûshto I think Valkorion thought it was a cruel joke, apparently he had surrendered just to get a chance of finding me. Dûshto then made it his mission to make my life non stop pain. As I’m sure you guessed he kept me there even after the empire fell I think he would have done it forever just to satisfy his need for revenge” Lana could see the hurt in his face Dzûsa clearly still cared for Dûshto she had no idea why though.

Lana gasped “I couldn’t sense you because of the force draining right, I’m so sorry Dzûsa especially about your brotherI wish I could have done more” Dzûsa smiled back at her as he gulped down his tea

he wiped his chin “it’s ok it actually has helped me gain perspective I don’t want forgiveness anymore I’m happy just to live” Lana nodded not totally understanding but happy he wouldn’t go running off on an adventure “and I hope I can still fit into yours you seemed like you wanted that in the elevator I guess we can finally have that date” Lana chuckled of course he’d say that

Lana walked over to him giving him a long passionate kiss “of course you do Dzûsa you are exactly what I need right now it’s a date” Dzûsa smiled she really had missed that smile it seemed like she was wrong about the next few weeks they’d be the best in years…

[snowflake-apocalypse]

OP: Mission Control

Musical inspiration: Thrift Shop; Macklemore

2 Christmas’ after the Big Apple Caper, Team Red makes a trip to Ontario, Julia tells the Chief she’s visiting family, she brought coffee as a house warming gift. And the gang finally gets to see the finished product.

Player: “Hey guys! Welcome to Ontario!”

Carmen: “Player! It’s so good to see you!”

Everyone hugs and says hi.. then they make their way to MC.

Player: “So... you all want to see the finished product?” He says mischievously.

Ivy: “Heck yeah! Let’s go see this bad boy!”

Zach: Wait, you really built a bunker? I thought you were just talkin’...”

Player: “With that stash? No, that was a call for action, my friend. And this is way more than a bunker.” As Player motions for the rest to follow him. Carmen, Jules and Shadowsan all exchange glances and then follow. They take a path that leads down behind the falls, there’s a mechanism that separates the water. Then that reveals a solid lead door, with a biometric access lock.

Player: “While you’re all here, I’ll add your biometrics to the database.” As he scans his hands and eyes to open the door.

Carmen: ”Okaaay...” She glances at Shadowsan, he’s like 😐. Once inside, everyone is overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place, they don’t say anything for a little while.

Player: “Team Red! Fam! Welcome to Mission Control! What do you think?” His voice triumphantly echoing throughout the wide open space.

Everyone: “Whoa....” 😱

Player: “Come on, I’ll give you the tour. ....Did you bring coffee, Julia?”

Julia: “Uh.. yes. House warming gift.. I suppose...” She’s still stunned. He’s explaining everything, showing them around.

Player: “Thanks. We’ll drop it off in the kitchen.

So this place is 300% off the grid. Over 100 of layers of encryptions on the rig, doesn’t show up on any radar, doesn’t give off any energy signatures. This place doesn’t exist. And pretty much everything was made from recycled materials. There are bedrooms for everyone, a library, a gym, a garage for the cars, a section for building the gizmos, whozits and whatsits, oh and also I put in a traditional Japanese garden...”

(Shadowsan looks surprised and impressed. He and Player exchange a quick bow. And to note, the gizmo corner is already lined with new tools and tech.

So their all walking around, the shock is easing..)

Ivy: “Is there a bowling alley?”

Player: “Do you want there to be?”

And everyone is like 😮😐. Cause this boy WILL put in a bowling alley.

Player:”So, Red.. what do you think? V.I.L.E. change well spent?”

Carmen: “I- Player this is incredible! You built this in 2 years? I don’t even know what to- holy cow is that a jet?!” They round the corner to the aircraft hanger. And low and behold, there’s a jet.

Player: “Haha. Surprise. Everyone, meet “Alicanto.”

Zach: “Alicanto? What’s that mean?”

Player motions for Julia to explain, as they scope out their new plane.

Julia: “In Chilean mythology, the Alicanto is a desert bird said to brought luck to miners in search of gold and silver.. though if someone was greedy enough the Alicanto would have lead them off a cliff.”

Carmen: “Oh. Lovely..” She gives Player a 🤨 look. “Red and gold, huh?”

Player: ”Naturally.”

Zach is sitting in the pilot seat, Ivy is in the co-pilot seat, getting familiar with the controls.

Ivy: “You gotta learn how to fly a plane, bro.”

Zach: “Yep.”

|Later...|

Everyone is at the dinner table, eating their tacos.

Julia: “I have to ask, Player. How did you do all of this without raising suspicions?” Everyone else looks to Player like “yeah, how you do that?”

Player slides over a fake ID and other credentials.

Player: “Cause I’m a 30 year old businessman who’s investing in numerous projects.” Then everyone is like “😨.” Ivy goes to pick up the IDs.

Ivy: “No way, dude. From where?”

Player: “Albakerey. The company hasn’t been active in over a decade.”

And then Carmen slightly drops her head in amazement. She thinks this is awesome, but now she’s doesn’t know whether to think this is getting out of hand. Like Player went and masqueraded this whole cover story to build this place. He notices the look on her face..

Player: “This is home, Red. If you want it to be.” And everyone knows he wasn’t talking about the place. This is her family. Their family.

And then after everyone finishes dinner, they go back down to the computer to add their biometrics to the database, everyone’s handprint comes up with automatic recognition, except for Carmen. She places her hand and eyes over the scanners.. And right on the big screen: “No Record Found”

Everyone gives her a sad, sympathetic look. Especially Shadowsan. He feels the worst.

Carmen: “It’s fine, guys. Really.”

Then Player manually types “Carmen Sandiego” into the database.

————————————————————-

| And the only ONLY exception to this non- hackable bunker is Cookie. Cookie can get in on her own.|

| This takes place in the future. Shit is bad. There is a sliding scale of who the Team can trust. ACME/ Chief is looking really shady. Everyone is scared and on edge and the stakes are high. Carmen is infiltrating this new organization and she’s sweating.

Player is making sure comms and GPS stay connected, everyone is in place, and trying to compose his nerves when someone suddenly appears beside him- none other than Cookie Booker. Everyone slightly wonders how she broke in, but everyone silently agrees it’s right.

Player: “....😨”

Cookie: “Eyes front, young man. You have a job to do.”

Player:” ..yes, ma’am.”

Cookie: “Now Carmen, listen to me. Whatever anxieties you have, let them go. Concentrate on what you need to do. Infiltrate, Aquire, Vacate. Got it?”

Carmen: “...Yeah. Got it, Cookie.”

Cookie: “Get to it.”

This mission has a new control crew. Player & Cookie.

- Finally, after hours of stress, held breaths and high stakes, Team Red is for the win. Mission Accomplished to everyone’s relief.

Cookie, Player, Julia, Zach and Ivy: “ Yes!”

And after everyone regroups at Mission Control,

Cookie: “Great work, Sandiego.