#replies: cassidy and felix

[secrettyrant]

Cassidy Edwards has been called a lot of things over the years. Some deserved. Some less so. Scammer, sure. Fraudster, fine. Liar...only if you count tax evasion as lying. And headcase? Honestly, that one stung, mostly because it came from a mall Santa. Still, through all of it, Cassidy has maintained one universal truth. She can read people like menus. Skim the surface, circle the good stuff, and always know what's worth biting into. This particular situation is a laminated special with a flashing neon arrow pointing at it. She doesn't need tea leaves to know what went down.

Cordelia claimed she was just fine on Felix's couch. That was at noon. By dusk, she was there at the door with her duffel bag over her shoulder. Cassidy didn't ask. Cold feet were practically a family heirloom on her side of the bloodline, handed down with a shrug and a cigarette. So now Charlie Prescott, poor thing, has two Edwards taking up cushion space and pretending not to be related.

Then, enter Felix. He walks into The Dog like he's feeling sorry for himself. Tall, sluggish, and carrying the emotional equivalent of a weather warning. Cassidy clocks him instantly and doesn't even slow down drying the same pint glass she's been working on for ten minutes. She just grins, the secretive kind that says oh, sweetheart before she even opens her mouth. She grabs a beer without asking and slides it across the bar like a peace offering. Or a bribe. "She hasn't skipped town." Cassidy says, voice low but warm, a little amused. "You can unclench."

Then she lifts her chin, nodding to the ceiling. "She's probably about ready to head for her shift at the shack. Want me to call her down?" it's not really a question, it's more of a social experiment. A way to catch if he flinches, or the tiniest flicker of discomfort across his face. Her grin's already spreading like wildfire. "Lover's tiff?" she asks, too casually. Innocent, if innocence wore leopard print and smelled of coconut rum.

the prairie dog

felix ranstrom and cassidy edwards @secrettyrant

This was probably the stupidest thing Felix had ever done. Top ten, at least. Right up there with a Slushie tattoo and somehow always being drawn to women who thought astrology was a science. But this? Pretending like he wasn't scouring the town for Cordie? Yeah. Stupid. She left without much noise, just like always. Packed up her duffle and vanished. Bee socks included. He didn't know why he cared. Why did he care? It should have been a relief. He should have rejoiced in the fact there was no more of her lace poking out of laundry piles, and being unhelpfully pointed out by his probation worker. He should've relaxed again, knowing she wasn't trying to flip through his sketchbook. No more accidental use of his toothbrush. (That day was horrific.)

And yet. Three days of silence later, and Felix was pacing the edges of his own apartment like something was missing. Why did he care? He didn't text because he knew she wouldn't reply. And what would he even say? Sorry I saw too much and said it out loud? So instead, he found himself at The Dog. Somewhere between unbothered and desperate. Cordelia wasn't behind the bar. But, another Edwards was. He slid onto the stool opposite Cassidy and gave a quick nod. Didn't even bother with a drink, just looked over his shoulder like he was making sure even his demons wouldn't hear what he was about to say.

Because his voice came out strange. A little quieter than usual. Not quite sheepish but almost reluctant, like he was already cursing the question as it formed. "Has Cordie checked in with you?" Fuck, it sounded so stupid. Why did he even care? "Just..." Felix scratched the edge of his jaw. Shrugged. "Figured maybe she'd mention if she skipped town or something?"

Why did he care? God only knew.

[tosomeonessomeone]

Let me teach you.

words・8k /pairings・Lee know x reader / genres・fluff, humor / warnings・ none

In a dimly lit meeting room at JYP Entertainment, Stray Kids gathered for a crucial discussion about the possibility of expanding their promotions into English-speaking markets. JYP, wearing a serious expression, addressed the group.

"Stray Kids, as we contemplate reaching international audiences, it's imperative to tackle the language barrier," JYP began, his gaze focused on the members. "Particularly, we need to address Minho's English proficiency."

Minho couldn't help but let out a subtle, resigned sigh. He knew what was coming.

"I've decided to bring in an English teacher for the group," JYP continued, sensing the mixed reactions in the room. "Enhancing your language skills is crucial for effective communication during promotions."

Minho, with a touch of sarcasm, muttered, "Great. Just what I always wanted - English classes."

The comment elicited a few chuckles from the members, and even JYP couldn't help but crack a small smile.

Bang Chan, exchanging a quick glance with Felix, whispered, "Looks like our Korean-English dictionary days are over."

Felix, smirking, replied, "Guess we're free from the classes."

JYP, sensing the humor in the room, redirected the focus. "Minho, it's essential for the team. This will help us connect better with international audiences."

Minho, rolling his eyes, mumbled, "Fantastic. I feel like I'm going to die."

Hyunjin, unable to contain his laughter, chimed in, "Minho, you won't die. It's just English class."

As the room filled with laughter, JYP made an announcement, "Now, Bang Chan and Felix, I'm exempting you from the classes. You'll serve as personal support to help others if needed."

Bang Chan, sharing a smirk with Felix, remarked, "Looks like we're still the language bridge."

Felix, grinning, added, "Lucky us."

The laughter continued, but Minho couldn't shake the feeling that the impending English lessons were unavoidable. As the group bantered, the decision to hire an English teacher marked the beginning of a new chapter for Stray Kids in the global music scene.

As you walk into the JYP Entertainment building, the receptionist directs you to Mr. Park's office. Nervously, you approach, and to your surprise, he stands up, extends a hand, and warmly greets you.

JYP: Welcome! We're thrilled to have you on board. I've heard great things about your work in linguistics.

You: Thank you, Mr. Park. I'm excited to contribute.

JYP leads you down a corridor, sharing stories about Stray Kids and the global impact they hope to achieve. He stops in front of a door, opens it, and gestures for you to enter.

JYP: This will be your classroom. We've set it up with everything you requested.

You step inside, and your eyes widen. The room is spacious, neatly arranged desks facing a large whiteboard. There's even a shelf stocked with books.

You: Oh, this is perfect. Thank you so much.

JYP: Anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. We want you to feel comfortable.

As you settle in, JYP leaves you to organize your materials. Later, a staff member brings in a stack of books you requested, and you're impressed by the efficiency.

You spend some time arranging the room to your liking, imagining the upcoming English lessons with Stray Kids. The door opens, and JYP pokes his head in.

JYP: How's everything coming along?

You: It's fantastic, thank you. I appreciate the support and the resources provided.

JYP: Great to hear. We believe in giving you the tools you need to succeed.

He leaves you to finalize your preparations, and as you look around the classroom, a sense of excitement and anticipation fills the air. This is the beginning of a unique journey, and you can't wait to share your linguistic expertise with Stray Kids.

*your pov* 

As I stepped into the classroom that JYP Entertainment had prepared for my English classes with Stray Kids, I couldn't help but be amazed. The room was well-lit, spacious, and equipped with all the resources I needed – a teacher's dream come true.

I looked at the neatly arranged desks, the large whiteboard, and the shelf stocked with books. It felt like the perfect environment to foster effective learning. The attention to detail showed the commitment of JYP to make this experience worthwhile for both me and Stray Kids.

Despite the excitement, a subtle nervousness lingered in the background. Meeting idols was an entirely different ball game compared to my interactions with university professors. I chuckled to myself, finding it amusing how I, usually composed and confident among colleagues, felt a twinge of nervousness at the prospect of working with Stray Kids.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that they were just individuals passionate about music, like any other students I had taught. Yet, the thought of sharing a classroom with idols who had achieved international fame made my heart race a bit.

As I went through the lesson plans and materials, the nervous energy slowly transformed into a mix of anticipation and curiosity. I wondered how our dynamic would unfold in this unique educational setting. Regardless of the initial jitters, I was determined to make the English classes not only educational but also an enjoyable experience for Stray Kids. After all, language learning should be as dynamic and exciting as their music.

As I stood in the impeccably prepared classroom, my nervousness was exacerbated by the thought that perhaps my outfit was a tad too much for the occasion. I looked down at my tailored dark brown high-waist pants, the cream turtleneck elegantly tucked in, paired with dark brown ankle boots – a complete ensemble that leaned heavily into the dark academia aesthetic.

My round glasses, chosen for their practicality, unintentionally contributed to the whole 'bookish' vibe. I couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the irony. Amongst idols who often wore stylish and trendy outfits, I felt like I had walked into the scene of a classic literature lecture rather than an English class with Stray Kids.

Taking a moment to compose myself, I reminded myself that professionalism was key, regardless of my own self-perceived fashion choices. As I prepared for the arrival of Stray Kids, I hoped my nervousness would soon be overshadowed by the excitement of the teaching journey ahead.

*Stray kids pov* 

Lost in your thoughts, you were adjusting the materials on the desk when the door swung open. One by one, the members of Stray Kids walked into the classroom, each bringing a burst of energy that seemed to fill the room.

Hyunjin's playful banter echoed through the room as he took a seat, while Bang Chan entered with a calm confidence, giving you a reassuring nod. Seungmin and Jeongin followed suit, completing the ensemble. As they settled into their seats, you realized that the nervousness that had gripped you earlier was slowly dissipating, replaced by a sense of eagerness to begin this unique educational journey with Stray Kids. 

As each member of Stray Kids filed into the classroom, their eyes widened in surprise at the sight of such a young academic teacher. You, with your tailored dark academia outfit and round glasses, exuded a sense of youthful sophistication that left the boys momentarily taken aback.

Felix couldn't help but flash a friendly smile, instantly charmed by your presence. Changbin, usually composed, found himself subtly impressed by the elegant coordination of your outfit. Hyunjin, known for his keen sense of style, couldn't help but appreciate the aesthetic appeal you brought to the classroom.

As the members settled into their seats, Minho, in particular, struggled to hide his surprise. He felt a mixture of awe and anxiety, not only at the youthful appearance of the teacher but also at the realization that he was about to dive into English classes—a subject that had always been a bit challenging for him.

Seated at his desk, Minho stole glances, attempting to process the unexpected combination of a young academic instructor who, besides being knowledgeable, also possessed an undeniable beauty. He pondered how such an elegant presence would navigate the dynamics of teaching Stray Kids, especially when language proficiency was at the core.

While the boys were captivated by your appearance, there was an underlying sense of curiosity about how the upcoming English classes would unfold. As the initial surprise settled, they couldn't help but wonder how this unique blend of youth, beauty, and academic prowess would shape their language learning journey.

*end of povs*

You stand at the front of the class, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. Clearing your throat, you begin, "Hello everyone. My name is [Your Name], I'm 29 years old, and I'm from [Your Birthplace]. Professionally, I work in linguistics."

You can feel their eyes on you, and a few polite smiles greet your introduction. It's your turn to guide them through this language journey.

"Now, let's practice introducing ourselves. How about we start with Bang Chan? Can you tell us your name, age, where you're from, and what you do?" you prompt.

Bang Chan, with a confident smile, responds, "Sure. I'm Bang Chan, 26 years old, from Sydney, Australia. I'm the leader of Stray Kids."

You nod in approval, impressed by his fluency. Then, turning to Felix, you ask, "And how about you, Felix?"

Felix, grinning, says, "I'm Felix, 23, from Sydney too. I'm a rapper and dancer in Stray Kids."

You can't help but appreciate their smooth English. "Great job, both of you. Now, even though you two are already fluent, I appreciate you being here for moral support. It'll be helpful for everyone."

Bang Chan nods, "Absolutely, we're here to help however we can."

You guided the introductions smoothly, starting with Chanbin, who confidently stated his role as the main rapper in Stray Kids.

"Sure thing. I'm Chanbin, 24 years old, from South Korea. I'm the main rapper in Stray Kids," he announced with assurance.

Then, Hyunjin, the lead dancer, followed suit with a friendly introduction.

"Hey, I'm Hyunjin, 23, also from South Korea. I'm the lead dancer," Hyunjin greeted with a warm smile.

When it came to Minho's turn, his nervousness was palpable as he stuttered through his introduction, mentioning his roles in both rapping and singing.

"Um, I'm Minho, 25, from South Korea too. I, uh, rap and sing," Minho nervously expressed, his words stumbling slightly.

Despite his unease, you praised Minho's effort before moving on to I.N, the maknae and lead vocalist, who greeted the group with a warm smile.

"Hi, I'm I.N, 22, from South Korea as well. I'm the maknae and lead vocalist," I.N introduced himself cheerfully.

Seungmin chimed in next, his voice steady and confident. “I’m Seungmin, 22, from South Korea. I’m the main vocalist,” he introduced himself smoothly.

Han followed, his tone calm and collected. “I’m Han, 22, also from South Korea. I’m the main rapper and producer,” he stated with a nod.

With the introductions completed, Bang Chan raised his hand slightly, seeking your attention.

"Can I ask you something, [Your Name]?" Bang Chan inquired.

"Of course, Bang Chan. What's on your mind?" you responded, curious about his question.

Bang Chan, looking intrigued, remarked, "You seem really knowledgeable about linguistics. Why did you decide to study it?"

Explaining your passion for language, especially phonetics and phonology, you shared how understanding sound production and linguistic patterns fascinated you. As you delved deeper into the subject during your undergraduate studies, your interest only grew stronger.

Impressed, Bang Chan nodded, acknowledging the depth of your interest. "That's really cool. I can see how that knowledge would be valuable for teaching English," he remarked.

"Absolutely," you replied with enthusiasm. "It's my pleasure to share what I've learned and make language learning enjoyable for everyone."

As the English classes progressed, you couldn't help but notice a stark contrast in the language abilities of the Stray Kids members. While most of them exhibited decent English skills, one stood out – Lee Minho. Despite his efforts, Minho struggled with English more noticeably than the others.

Throughout the first couple of weeks, you worked hard to foster a friendly and supportive environment in the classroom. The other members responded positively, forming a fellowship that made the learning process enjoyable. However, Minho remained distant, his struggles with English creating a barrier between him and the rest of the group, including you.

As the end of another class approached, you made a decision. It was time to address the elephant in the room and reach out to Minho. Taking a deep breath, you approached him as the others filed out of the classroom.

"Minho, can I have a word with you?" you asked gently, noticing the hint of apprehension in his eyes.

Minho nodded, his expression a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

"So, I've been thinking" you began, your tone gentle yet earnest. "I understand that English might be challenging for you, and I want to support you in the best way possible."

Minho listened intently, his expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"I believe that with some extra attention and tailored guidance, we can make significant progress in your English proficiency" you continued, offering him a reassuring smile. "Would you be open to having extra classes where we can focus more on your individual learning needs?"

Minho hesitated for a moment, processing your suggestion. Then, with a nod, he replied, "I think that could really help. Thank you for offering."

You felt a surge of relief and determination knowing that Minho was willing to take the extra step to improve his English skills. Together, you discussed a schedule for the additional classes, ensuring that they would fit seamlessly into his routine without overwhelming him.

With a sense of purpose and optimism, you left the conversation knowing that you had taken a significant step toward helping Minho unlock his full potential in English. As you prepared for the extra classes, you were filled with determination to support him every step of the way on his language learning journey.

After several weeks of dedicating extra time to Minho's English improvement, you realized that traditional methods weren't fully engaging him. Determined to find a way to connect with him, you decided to bring a different approach to the table.

As you entered the classroom, Lino, your lovely cat, nestled comfortably in your arms. Today, you planned to make him the main topic of conversation, knowing that Minho had a fondness for cats and hoping to bridge a connection between him and the subject matter.

"Good morning, Minho" you greeted warmly as you set Lino down on the desk. "Today, we have a special guest joining us."

Minho's eyes lit up with surprise and curiosity as he looked at the fluffy feline.

"Meet Lino" you continued, patting the cat's head gently. "He's here to help us practice English today."

Minho's gaze shifted between you and the cat, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Did you know," you began, "that Lino's name sounds a lot like your stage name?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Minho's lips as he considered the connection.

"Oh, I’m honored.” he smiled.

Encouraged by his response, you delved into a discussion about cats, weaving in English vocabulary related to pets and animals. Minho's engagement grew with each topic you introduced, his confidence in speaking English gradually blossoming in the comfortable and familiar context of his love for cats.

As you conducted the English class, your cat, Lino, decided to make his presence known in an unexpected way – by gravitating towards Minho more than you, much to your amusement.

Minho chuckled as Lino curled up beside him, earning an affectionate scratch behind the ears. "Lino likes me." he remarked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You laughed, nodding in agreement. "Seems like it! He must sense that you're a cat person."

Minho smiled, his demeanor relaxed and comfortable as he continued to stroke Lino's fur. "I am," he admitted. "I have three cats back home – Soon, Dong, and Dori."

"Three cats? That's wonderful." you replied, genuinely intrigued. "What are they like?"

Minho's face lit up as he began to describe each of his furry companions, his English still a bit basic but improving with each sentence. "Soon is playful, always chasing after toys. Dong is more laid-back, loves cuddling. And Dori, well, Dori is the mischievous one, always getting into trouble."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you listened to Minho speak about his cats. Despite the occasional mix of Korean and basic English constructions, his enthusiasm and willingness to communicate in English were clear signs of progress.

"That's amazing, Minho." you remarked, unable to hide the happiness in your voice. "Your English is really improving. Keep up the great work!"

Minho's smile widened, a sense of pride evident in his expression. "Thank you" he said sincerely. "I'm trying my best."

As time passed and the English classes continued, you found yourself forming a beautiful friendship with Minho that went beyond the classroom. He became more comfortable around you, showing his playful and "crazy" side, which only deepened your bond.

"You're such a goofball, Minnie," you teased, using the secret nickname you had created for him.

Grinning, Minho leaned closer. "And you are too serious, pumpkin " he replied, using the adorable nickname he had bestowed upon you.

The nickname exchange became a cherished secret between the two of you, a symbol of the special bond you shared. Whenever you were alone inside the class, you would affectionately refer to each other as pumpkin and Minnie, a reminder of the friendship that had blossomed between you.

As the days went by, the other members of Stray Kids continued to address you as "[Your Name] Noona," a term of endearment that filled you with warmth and affection. But it was the secret nicknames shared between you and Minho that held a special place in your heart, a testament to the unique connection you had forged through laughter, learning, and friendship.

As the members of Stray Kids gathered in the practice room, their attention gravitated towards the budding connection between you and Minho during the English classes. Whispers and curious glances circulated among them as they observed the growing closeness.

Hyunjin leaned in, breaking the silence with a whisper, "Have you guys noticed how [Your Name] Noona and Minho have been getting along lately?"

Felix nodded in agreement. "Yeah, they seem really comfortable around each other."

Chanbin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And did you hear those secret nicknames they were using? 'Pumpkin' and 'Minnie'?"

Seungmin chuckled softly. "It's like they have their own little world."

Bang Chan smiled, acknowledging the connection. "They do seem to have a special bond. It's nice to see."

Han nodded in agreement. "They're always laughing and joking together. It's obvious there's something more than just friendship."

I.N's curiosity peaked. "Do you think they're dating?"

Bang Chan shrugged thoughtfully. "It's hard to say, but there's definitely a connection between them."

Hyunjin grinned mischievously. "I bet they're secretly planning romantic dinners and long walks on the beach."

Felix rolled his eyes playfully. "Hyunjin, don't be ridiculous."

Chanbin interjected with a thoughtful tone. "Whatever it is, they seem happy together. And that's all that matters."

As the conversation continued, the members couldn't shake the feeling that there was indeed something special brewing between you and Minho. Whether it was a budding romance or simply a deep and meaningful friendship, one thing was for certain – the bond between you and Minho was undeniable, and it brought warmth and joy to everyone around you.

One day as the scorching sun beat down relentlessly, you braved the extreme heatwave to attend the English class with Stray Kids. Determined to maintain your signature vintage and classy style despite the weather, you opted for a mid-length summer dress with a vintage flair. The dress flowed gracefully around you, its light fabric providing a semblance of relief against the oppressive heat.

Paired with your favorite classy flats, you embraced the academia aesthetic that you adored. The outfit exuded elegance and sophistication, a reflection of your personal style and commitment to looking your best even in the sweltering heat.

As you stepped into the classroom, a surge of relief swept over you at the sight of the functioning air conditioning, offering a welcome escape from the oppressive heat outside. With a contented sigh, you began organizing the books for today's planned competition, your heart brimming with anticipation.

Minutes ticked by, and one by one, the members of Stray Kids trickled into the classroom. Their eyes were drawn to your radiant presence, accentuated by the soft glow of the classroom lights. They couldn't help but admire you, their internal thoughts filled with awe and appreciation.

"Wow, [Your Name] looks stunning today," Felix remarked.

"She always does. It's like she stepped out of a fashion magazine," Hyunjin chimed in.

Chanbin nodded in agreement, adding, "She's got that vintage charm down pat."

As the members settled into their seats, their attention shifted to Minho. They couldn't help but notice the subtle change in his demeanor, his eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and something deeper.

"Hey, Minho, you alright?" Bang Chan noticed, sensing Minho's reaction.

"Yeah, you seem kinda lost in thought there," Han observed.

Minho struggled to contain the flood of emotions swirling within him. With each glance at you, his heart threatened to burst from his chest, overwhelmed by the depth of his affection for you.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... lost in thought," Minho managed to reply, his voice barely above a whisper.

Throughout the English class, Minho's thoughts remained consumed by you. Your presence filled the room with warmth and light, illuminating his heart in ways he never thought possible. And as he stole glances at you throughout the class, he couldn't help but wonder if you felt the same way too.

As the class progressed and the competition ensued, Minho's initial hesitance and uncertainty gave way to a remarkable transformation. With a newfound determination shining in his eyes, he threw himself into the challenges with gusto, fueled by a desire to impress you and the rest of the group.

"Whoa, look at Minho go! He's on fire today." Felix exclaimed, amazed by Minho's focus.

"I've never seen him this focused before," Hyunjin added, nodding in agreement.

"He's really giving it his all," Chanbin chimed in, impressed by Minho's dedication.

By the end of the class, Minho had surpassed all expectations, leaving everyone astounded by his remarkable progress. As the applause filled the room, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for Minho and his incredible achievement. His determination to impress you had not gone unnoticed, and you were filled with admiration for his unwavering commitment to growth and self-improvement.

As the English class with Stray Kids drew to a close, you bid farewell to each member with a warm smile and words of encouragement. The energy of the competition still lingered in the air, filling the room with excitement and camaraderie.

"Great job today, everyone! See you next time." you called out, your voice brimming with genuine pride and affection.

As the members began to file out of the classroom, you turned your attention to the scattered books and materials on the desks. With a sigh, you began the task of organizing the mess, your focus solely on restoring order to the room.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice Minho lingering behind, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of admiration and something deeper. He watched as you worked diligently, your movements graceful and purposeful.

"Let me help you." Minho's voice broke through the silence, his words soft and sincere as he extended his hands to assist you with the books.

Startled, you looked up, your eyes meeting Minho's with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. You hadn't expected him to stay behind, let alone offer to help you.

"Thank you." you replied, your voice filled with genuine appreciation as you handed him a stack of books. As your hands brushed against each other, a jolt of electricity coursed through both of you.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as you shared a fleeting yet electrifying connection. In that instant, the world around you faded away, leaving only the gentle flutter of your hearts echoing in the silence.

As you worked together in comfortable silence, the warmth of your shared presence enveloped you, creating a sense of intimacy and connection that transcended words.

As you worked together to tidy up the classroom, Minho broke the silence with a soft voice filled with genuine warmth and gratitude.

"You know, [Your Name], I just wanted to say... I felt amazing with my English today," Minho confessed, his eyes shining with a sense of accomplishment.

You turned to him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you listened to his heartfelt words.

"That's wonderful to hear, Minho," you replied, your voice filled with genuine happiness for him. "You did an incredible job today."

Minho's smile widened, a sense of pride radiating from him as he reflected on his progress. "And I just wanted to say how happy I am to have you as my teacher. Your support and encouragement mean a lot to me."

Your heart swelled with warmth at Minho's heartfelt words. You had seen his dedication and determination firsthand, and knowing that you had played a part in his journey filled you with a sense of fulfillment.

"Thank you, Minho," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "It's a pleasure to teach you, and I'm so proud of how far you've come."

As the final touches were made to organize the classroom, a comfortable silence settled between you and Minho. With everything in order, you walked over to your desk to gather your belongings, signaling the end of another successful class.

Minho, having said his goodbyes, turned around to face you, his expression holding a hint of hesitation. The atmosphere shifted subtly as he began to speak, his words carrying a genuine sincerity.

"Actually... I know this might not be appropriate because of our student/teacher relation, but... hmm... you look stunning. You even made me feel shy," Minho admitted, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of admiration and a touch of bashfulness.

Your cheeks flushed with a combination of surprise and warmth at Minho's unexpected compliment. The sincerity in his words and the vulnerability in his demeanor created a moment that lingered in the air.

"Thank you, Minho," you replied with a genuine smile, appreciating the honesty and courage in his words. "I'm glad you feel that way. It's always nice to receive a compliment."

When Minho offers to help you with your bag, you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him. Despite the lingering awareness of your student/teacher relationship, the genuine connection between you feels undeniable.

“Thank you, Minho. That would be wonderful,” you reply with a grateful smile, accepting his offer with genuine appreciation.

Together, you make your way to the basement where your car awaits. As you walk, Minho engages you in conversation, his genuine curiosity shining through.

“So, how’s Lino doing?” Minho asks, his voice filled with warmth as he inquires about your beloved cat. “I bet he misses you when you’re away.”

A smile tugs at your lips at the mention of Lino, your heart warmed by Minho’s genuine interest in your life outside of the classroom.

“He’s doing well, thank you for asking,” you reply, your voice soft with affection. “I miss him too when I’m away. He’s like family to me.”

As you reach your car, Minho gently hands your bag to you, his actions filled with a quiet sense of care and consideration.

“Thank you, Minho. I really appreciate your help,” you say, your voice filled with gratitude as you turn to face him.

“It’s my pleasure, [Your Name],” Minho replies, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sends a shiver down your spine.

As you settle your bag into the car, you turn to Minho with a warm smile. The connection between you feels palpable, the air tinged with unspoken sentiments.

“If you ever feel comfortable, Minho, you’re more than welcome to come over and see Lino whenever you want,” you offer, your words carrying a subtle invitation that extends beyond the realm of the feline companion.

Minho’s gaze meets yours, a flicker of understanding passing between you. You both know that the mention of Lino is a mere pretext, a way to create an opportunity for you to spend time together outside the confines of the classroom.

“That sounds great, [Your Name]. I’d love to see Lino again,” Minho replies, his words holding a deeper resonance that hints at the shared understanding between you.

As you close the car door, there lingers a charged atmosphere, an acknowledgment of the unspoken connection that has blossomed between you. The invitation to visit Lino becomes a bridge, inviting Minho into your world in a way that goes beyond the boundaries of your official roles.

As you part ways, a sense of anticipation hangs in the air—a promise of shared moments yet to unfold, where the presence of Lino would be a mere backdrop to the deeper connection growing between you and Minho.

Couple days later, as you correct Minho’s homework during your extra class session, you can’t help but marvel at his progress. His determination and dedication to improving his English skills are evident in every assignment he completes.

Lost in your thoughts, you are surprised when Minho places a piece of paper on top of the question you are correcting. With a curious smile, you pick up the note and read the handwritten message in English, noticing a few adorable mistakes that only add to its charm.

The note, written with a touch of nervousness and sincerity, asks if you are free on Friday evening and if you’d like to watch a movie at your place. Minho’s excuse about missing your cat brings a smile to your face, knowing full well that he has three cats of his own at home.

Chuckling softly to yourself, you can’t deny the warmth that fills your heart at Minho’s sweet gesture. With a pen in hand, you write a response on the back of the note, asking him what he would like to have for dinner on Friday evening.

As you hand the note back to Minho, your eyes meet, and a shared understanding passes between you. In that moment, you feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the upcoming Friday evening—a chance to spend time with Minho outside the confines of the classroom, where your shared connection could blossom in the comfort of familiarity and friendship.

As Minho receives your response to his note, he can't help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation. Your willingness to spend time with him outside of the classroom fills him with a sense of joy and warmth that he can't contain.

As he reads your reply, a smile spreads across his face, the corners of his lips lifting with genuine happiness. It's a chance for both of you to spend quality time together, to share a meal, and enjoy each other's company in a relaxed and comfortable setting.

"Can I cook for you?" Minho asks, his voice tinged with a hint of shyness as he meets your gaze.

Your eyes sparkle with warmth and affection as you look at him, your response filled with sincerity and kindness.

"Only if you let me help you,” you reply, your words carrying a sense of fondness.

With a nod and a smile, Minho accepts your offer, knowing that your movie night will be filled with laughter, good food, and the warmth of your growing bond. As you make plans for your evening together, Minho can't help but feel grateful for the chance to spend time with someone as special as you, and he looks forward to creating memories that you'll cherish for years to come.

As the days pass leading up to the supposed movie night with you, Minho finds himself on the receiving end of relentless teasing from the members of Stray Kids. It seems that his attempt to keep his plans a secret has failed miserably, much to his dismay.

Chanbin: "Ooh, Minho's got a hot date!"

Felix: "What movie are you gonna watch, Minho? Romantic comedy or action-packed thriller?"

Hyunjin: "Don't forget the popcorn and tissues, Minho. It's gonna be a tearjerker!"

The teasing only intensifies as the days go by, with each member finding new ways to poke fun at Minho's supposed date night. Despite his attempts to brush off their remarks with a good-natured smile, Minho can't help but feel a pang of embarrassment at the attention.

Han: "Minho, you better dress to impress!"

Seungmin: "Yeah, don't forget to bring flowers!"

I.N: "And make sure you don't spill the popcorn all over her!"

With each passing comment, Minho's cheeks flush with embarrassment, his attempts to deflect their teasing met with little success. It seems that the members of Stray Kids are determined to make sure he doesn't live down his supposed date night anytime soon.

Despite the embarrassment, Minho can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his friends' playful banter. Their teasing may be relentless, but it's also a reminder of the close bond they share—a bond that brings laughter and joy to even the most embarrassing moments. And as the days pass, Minho finds himself looking forward to his movie night with you, knowing that even if the members of Stray Kids continue to tease him mercilessly, he'll always have their support and friendship to fall back on.

The day of the much-anticipated movie night with Minho arrives, and you can't contain the nervous energy coursing through your veins. Despite your efforts to maintain composure, the excitement and anticipation bubble within you, manifesting in a flurry of nervous gestures and rapid thoughts.

After much deliberation, you settle on a more casual and comfortable outfit for the evening—a simple yet stylish ensemble that exudes effortless charm. As you stand before the mirror, adjusting your attire and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes through the apartment.

Heart pounding with anticipation, you hurry to the door, your pulse quickening with each step. With trembling hands, you turn the doorknob and swing the door open, your eyes widening in surprise and delight at the sight before you.

There stands Minho, resplendent in a casual yet impeccably stylish outfit that perfectly complements his features. His warm smile illuminates his face as he holds out a small bouquet of white lilies—the very flowers you mentioned months ago in one of your classes.

Speechless with astonishment and gratitude, you can hardly believe your eyes. The gesture is thoughtful and heartfelt, a testament to the depth of Minho's kindness and consideration.

"Oh, Minho... I can't believe you remembered," you exclaim, your voice filled with genuine emotion as you accept the bouquet with trembling hands.

Minho's smile widens at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with warmth and sincerity. "I wanted tonight to be special," he replies, his words carrying a sincerity that touches you to the core.

In that moment, as you stand together in the doorway, the weight of your shared connection hangs heavy in the air. It's a gesture of thoughtfulness and affection that speaks volumes, a silent promise of the memories yet to be made and the bond that will only grow stronger with time.

With a grateful smile, you step aside, inviting Minho into your home and into your heart. As you embark on your movie night together, you can't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the moments yet to come—a night filled with laughter, companionship, and the blossoming of something beautiful between you.

As Minho stepped into [Your Name]'s cozy apartment, he was greeted by the enthusiastic welcome of Lino, who came running towards him with a playful meow, rubbing himself against Minho's legs.

Minho chuckled at Lino's antics, reaching down to scratch the cat behind the ears. "Hey there, buddy. Looks like we're already becoming fast friends," he remarked, his voice filled with amusement.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Minho bonding with Lino. "He definitely likes you more than me," you quipped, a hint of playful sarcasm in your tone.

Minho laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Seems like it," he replied, his attention momentarily diverted by the playful antics of the furry feline.

Meanwhile, you headed to the kitchen to find a water vase for the bouquet of white lilies Minho had brought. As you rummaged through the cabinets, Minho took a moment to glance around the small apartment, his curiosity piqued by the glimpses of your personality scattered throughout the space.

The apartment was a reflection of you and your unique style, filled with charming décor and personal touches that spoke volumes about your interests and passions. From the vintage photographs adorning the walls to the eclectic mix of furniture, every corner of the apartment exuded warmth and character.

In the background, the soulful strains of blues music filled the air, adding a touch of ambiance to the cozy atmosphere. Minho couldn't help but nod his head to the rhythm, appreciating the soothing melody that filled the room.

You returned from the kitchen, a water vase in hand, and placed the lilies on the small dining table. "There we go, a perfect spot for them," you remarked, a smile of satisfaction gracing your lips as you admired the bouquet.

Minho nodded in agreement, his eyes lingering on the delicate flowers. "They look beautiful," he commented, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

As the evening unfolded in your cozy apartment, the aroma of freshly cut lilies mingled with the savory scents wafting from the kitchen, filling the air with a tantalizing promise of the meal to come.

Turning to Minho with a warm smile, you inquired, "Are you hungry? I can whip up something simple if you'd like."

Minho's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he followed you into the kitchen, his curiosity piqued by the array of cooking equipment adorning the countertops.

To his surprise, the kitchen was a treasure trove of culinary delights, stocked with an impressive array of pots, pans, and utensils—a testament to your love for cooking.

"You have quite the collection here," Minho remarked, his voice filled with genuine admiration as he surveyed the assortment of cooking tools.

You grinned, a glimmer of pride in your eyes. "I love to cook," you admitted, your voice tinged with enthusiasm. "It's one of my favorite hobbies."

As you two set to work preparing the ingredients for your meal, Minho found himself drawn to your infectious energy and passion for cooking. With each passing moment, your laughter filled the air, mingling with the sound of sizzling vegetables and bubbling pots.

In a playful gesture, Minho deliberately brushed his hand against yours whenever the opportunity arose, savoring the fleeting connection between you.

But it was when you suggested you cut the vegetables together that Minho's heart skipped a beat. As you stood side by side at the kitchen counter, Minho felt a surge of warmth and affection wash over him.

With a gentle smile, Minho wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Your hands intertwined as you guided the knife through the crisp vegetables, your movements synchronized in perfect harmony.

As you continued to cook together, your laughter echoed through the kitchen, filling the air with a sense of joy and companionship that neither of you could deny. And in that shared moment of togetherness, Minho and you knew that you had found something special.

As the aroma of your culinary creation fills the air, you and Minho step back from the stove, your shared masterpiece laid out before you. With a sense of accomplishment and anticipation, you set about preparing the table for your meal.

Minho's hands move with purpose as he arranges the plates and utensils, his movements deliberate yet filled with a subtle grace. With each placement, he ensures that your seats are positioned side by side, a silent invitation for closeness and companionship.

You couldn't help but notice Minho's thoughtful gestures, the unspoken warmth and affection evident in his actions. As you settle into your seats, the table bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, you feel a sense of gratitude for the growing bond between you.

As you begin to enjoy your meal, you feel a surge of warmth and affection for Minho, a desire to share the joy of your culinary creation with him in a more intimate way.

"Minho," you call softly, your voice filled with tenderness and warmth, "try this dish. It's one of my favorites."

With a gentle smile, you offer Minho a spoonful of the delicious food, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. As he accepts the bite, your fingers brush against each other in a fleeting yet electrifying touch, sending a jolt of warmth coursing through both of you.

Minho savors the flavors, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and affection. In that moment, as you share a meal together, your connection deepens, your hearts entwined in a silent dance of possibility and hope.

In the soft glow of candlelight, as you share the remnants of your meal and the warmth of each other's company, you and Minho find yourselves engaged in an intimate dialogue, each revelation deepening the connection between you.

"You know, Minho, I've always admired your passion for dance," you begin, your voice soft with admiration. "It's incredible how you express yourself through movement."

A gentle smile graces Minho's lips, his eyes alight with appreciation. "Thank you, [Your Name]. Dance has always been my way of connecting with the world, of expressing emotions that words alone can't capture."

As you exchange stories and share moments, you can't help but feel a sense of wonder at Minho's dedication to his craft, his commitment to his art shining through in every word.

"And you, [Your Name], your love for books—it's truly inspiring," Minho remarks, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "The way you talk about literature, about the worlds and characters within those pages, it's like you're sharing a piece of your soul with me."

You smile, touched by Minho's words. "Books have always been my sanctuary, my escape into other worlds," you admit, your eyes shining with passion. "There's something magical about losing yourself in the pages of a good book."

As you continue to share your passions and discoveries, you find common ground in unexpected places—a shared love of picnics beneath the open sky, the simple joy of being at home in the company of your beloved cats.

"I've always loved picnics," Minho confesses, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "There's something so liberating about being outdoors, surrounded by nature's beauty."

You nod in agreement, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "I couldn't agree more. There's a sense of peace and tranquility that comes with being out in nature, away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life."

In that moment, as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, you and Minho discover a world of shared interests and passions—a world where your hearts can intertwine and your souls can soar.

As the soft strains of your favorite slow song fill the air, a sense of warmth and familiarity envelops the room, casting a spell of enchantment over the evening.

Caught up in the melody, you find yourself humming along, the gentle rhythm stirring memories and emotions within your soul. Across the room, Minho's eyes light up with recognition, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he catches the familiar tune.

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, Minho rises from his seat, extending a hand towards you with a silent invitation to dance. "May I have this dance?" he asks, his voice soft with warmth and affection.

You chuckle softly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone. "I don't know how to dance," you admit, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

But Minho's smile remains unwavering, his gaze filled with unwavering determination. "Then let me teach you," he replies, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "Just like you taught me English."

With a mixture of trepidation and excitement, you place your hand in Minho's, allowing him to lead you to the center of the room. As you begin to sway to the gentle rhythm of the music, Minho guides you with grace and patience, his movements fluid and effortless.

With each step, each gentle turn, you feel yourself surrendering to the music, to the warmth of Minho's embrace. In his arms, you find a sense of security and belonging, a place where your fears and insecurities melt away.

As you dance, your laughter mingles with the music, filling the air with a sense of joy and companionship. In that intimate moment, you realize that dancing isn't just about following the steps—it's about surrendering to the rhythm of the heart, about embracing the beauty of the moment and the connection shared between two souls.

In the hushed embrace of the evening, as you and Minho sway gently to the rhythm of the music, a sense of serenity settles over you like a comforting blanket. In the soft glow of candlelight, your eyes meet, the warmth of your gaze speaking volumes of the unspoken bond between you.

As the music fades into the background, a comfortable silence envelops you, the air tinged with anticipation and longing. In that fleeting moment, Minho's voice breaks the silence, a whisper so soft it is almost lost amidst the gentle cadence of the night.

"May I?" he breathes, his words barely audible yet filled with an unmistakable yearning.

Your heart flutters at his question, your smile a reflection of the affection that fills your soul. With a nod and a smile, you whisper back, your voice barely a whisper yet resonating with the depth of your emotions.

"Please," you reply, your heart racing with anticipation.

In that tender moment, Minho closes the distance between you, his touch as gentle as a summer breeze. With a tenderness that speaks of a thousand unspoken words, he presses his lips against yours, a sweet caress that ignites a spark within your souls.

In that stolen moment of intimacy, time seems to stand still as you lose yourselves in the sweetness of the kiss. In Minho's embrace, you feel a sense of belonging, a connection that transcends words and speaks directly to the depths of your heart.

As the evening unfolds in the warmth of your apartment, filled with laughter, shared moments, and tender embraces, the movie you had planned to watch fades into the background, forgotten amidst the magic of your connection.

[neptunium134]

something I've been thinking about recently, is what hogwarts houses the fe drivers would be in, what are your opinions, I'm curious

Hmm, that is a good question. Apologies for the late reply, I've had to put some thought into it.

I'm going to do it by teams alphabetically just cuz it's easier for me to look at. I am also not a massive HP fan, so my knowledge of the houses comes from the films, what I've been told and what I've seen on Tumblr, so apologies if I get anything wrong.

I am also only going to do the current 21/22 driver grid, otherwise it'll get too complicated and I don't know the first four grids so I can't make a good assumption.

Feel free to add your ideas!

Avalance Andretti

Jake Dennis - I've always found Jake really sweet. He doesn't seem to be as robust as some of the others so Imma gonna say Hufflepuff for him.

Oilver Askew - I don't really know Oli A all that well unfortunately, I couldn't even tell you where he comes in the WDC currently so Imma have to default on this and say Gryffindor

Dragon/Penske

Sergio Sette Camara - Sergio's always seemed pretty quiet. I don't see a lot about him, so I'll have to say Hufflepuff.

Antonio Giovanizzi - Hufflepuff. I'm sure we're all agreed, moving on

DS Techeetah

Jean-Eric Vergne - JEV gives me massive Slytherin vibes, not cuz he's evil or anything but he just gives me those vibes

Antonio Felix Da Costa - He's a bit of a joker, so Imma say Gryffindor

Envision

Robin Frijns - Very laid-back, so Imma say Hufflepuff again. He seems like he wouldn't mind

Nick Cassidy - Again, I don't really know much about him, but he did get a pole last year so I'm going to say Slytherin for pure ambition as a rookie last year

Jaguar

Mitch Evans - Again, based on sheer ambition, I'll say Slytherin. I mean p9 to win, twice? That's surely Slytherin vibes

Sam Bird - Hmm, kind of hard. I'll say Ravenclaw mainly on the basis is he's one of the longest-racing drivers in FE so he's gained a lot of knowledge.

Mahindra

Alexander Sims - Ravenclaw, based on the fact Dario said he was one of the smartest drivers on the grid. He does also give off Hufflepuff vibes as well, but Imma stick with Ravenclaw

Oliver Rowland - Another difficult one, but I'll say Gryffindor because he's made some moves

Mercedes

Nyck de Vries - difficult, but I'll say Gryffindor based on him being a massive ball of energy and I don't think anything can stop him

Stoffel Vandoorne - Once again I'm torn between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but I think I'll say he's Hufflepuff based don't he fact he's really sweet and fairly laid-back most of the time, but he does have Ravenclaw vibes

NIO

Oilver Turvey - Gryffindor. You have to be to drive that car, sorry mate.

Dan Ticktum - Slytherin. Need I say more

Nissan

Sebastien Buemi - Like Sam Bird, Seb has been in FE a long time, so I think it's only fair he too is a Ravenclaw

Max Gunther - Gryffindor, he's quite punchy when he has a good race

Venturi

Edo Mortara - Hufflepuff based on the fact he said his biggest weakness is his daughter and he melted my heart

Lucas Di Grassi - Slytherin. Needs no elaboration

Porsche

Pascal Wehrlein - Imma say Gryffindor because he just gives me those vibes

Andre Lotterer - Gryffindor again. He just has those vibes, I can't explain it

Let me know what you think!

[fallforcs]

“You’re killing me, Swan.”

Art by: @sailingcaptainswan

Author: @the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt

Summary: Emma never knew her life could change in the span of a single summer, but that attitude changes as she’s introduced to Killian Jones and, through him, discovers what it’s like to be a kid. With him by her side, Emma takes on her demons, meets friends and enemies, and falls in love with the National Pastime…and maybe someone else in the process. A Sandlot AU

Rating and reason for the rating: G. (Everybody can read - no swearing, no explicit scenes, no trigger warnings)

Trigger warnings: None

Part 1

PART 2/3

“Let’s play ball!” David screamed as the team ran onto the baseball diamond for the game against Neal and his posse.

Neal’s team was already there, all the boys in their positions on the field, throwing a baseball around between them. The home team seemed visibly put off by the screams announcing the arrival of the team from the sandlot.

Killian led his team to an area near the bench that would serve as the dugout for this game.

“Okay, team. David’s leadoff. Then Scarlet’s the 2-spot. Liam is the 3-hole. I’m the cleanup. Robin is the 5 position. Grumpy - spot 6. Sneezy - spot 7. Swan, you’re batting 8. And Squints, take us home as the 9 player.” The team all nodded. There were a couple “okay”s, an “aye, aye, Captain,” and Sneezy sneezed. “And Scarlet, you’ll pitch.” Will saluted Killian and Killian dismissed the group to go sit on the bench.

David stepped up to the plate. His teammates on the bench took in the field in front of him. David made a show out of taking some practice swings and sauntering up to the base.

“Hurry up, batter,” the tall catcher - Pan, Emma remembered - pushed David.

“Relax, Pan,” Neal, who was on the pitcher’s mound, yelled. “It’s gonna be a short game, and I gotta get home for lunch.”

David took his position and nodded to Neal that he was ready. First was a swing and a miss.

Pan snickered, “that’s one!”

David hit the next pitch - a double. The sandlot team cheered as Will ran after the bat to where David tossed it before he ran. Will hit a single. Liam hit a double. Killian was on deck.

“Spread back, guys. Little Jonesy is good,” Neal sent his team back further out on the field to prepare for a big hit from Killian.

Eric leaned over to Emma and whispered, “he’s got this,” before retreating back to his own space and pushing up his glasses.

Neal released the first pitch, and it almost hit Killian. Emma saw Liam clench his fists at second as he watched his brother barely move out of the way of the ball. Emma could see Killian’s jaw clench from her place on the bench.

Will was the only one to speak up. “Oi! Watch it, Cassidy!”

“Shut up, Scarlet.” Neal didn’t take his gaze off Killian, who was taking a couple breaths before stepping back up to the plate.

“Not my problem if the only way you think you can win is by taking out Jones!”  

“Scarlet!” Neal barked, glaring at Will on third. Will shrugged in response, earning laughter from his team in the dugout. Neal shook it off, narrowing his eyes at Killian, and throwing another pitch, which collided with Killian’s bat. Neal’s teammates hit the fence as the ball soared over it for a home run. Killian ran the bases and arrived back to the bench to high-fives from his team.

On deck was Robin, who hit a single. The twins both got out - Grumpy with a flyout and Sneezy with a strikeout. Emma hit the ball with enough distance to get her to first, but Robin tried getting two bases out of it and got tagged out at third. Even with the three outs, the group of kids from the sandlot ended their first half an inning with 4 runs.

Neal’s team managed to score 1 in the bottom of the first, but that 1 was never going to be enough, and both teams knew it.

By the time the fifth inning came around, Neal was in danger of taking Grumpy’s nickname from him. The top half of the fifth, Emma led off with a triple, and Eric got her home with a sacrifice fly. But that was the only easy out the other team got the entire half inning. David, Will, Liam, Killian, and Robin all hit easily, quickly making their way around the bases. Grumpy and Sneezy both hit singles, which Emma followed with another triple. It appeared she figured out Neal’s pitching style. She smirked at Neal from third when he kept looking back at her.

At that moment, Emma made up her mind: She was going to steal home.

Emma glanced at Killian and the rest of her teammates in the dugout for support. When they figured out her intention, they all got quiet. In that moment, Neal looked over to the dugout to see why they got so quiet, and Emma ran. Neal’s guard was down, he was relaxed, and he was entirely unprepared to need to throw the ball. He didn’t think to turn back to Emma until she was halfway home. When he spotted her dashing, he cursed out Felix at third for not warning him sooner and threw the ball toward Pan at home, but due to his lack of preparation for the throw, it fell short, making Pan shuffle around to grab it before Emma touched home. Not concerning herself with the other team and their attempts to get her out, she leapt into the air and slid into home, not only touching it to be called safe, but also marking the first time ever she’s slid on a baseball field. Her team jumped off their bench and ran over to her to celebrate her stealing home, and Pan threw the ball at the ground in frustration as the kids from the sandlot roared and cheered. Liam, Robin, Will, and David lifted Emma as the team continued cheering for her. She really felt like a baseball player at that moment, and she felt like part of a real team. As the boys put her down, she high-fived everyone as they made their way back to their bench so they could continue the game.

“Maybe we should follow a mercy rule, huh, Neal?” Emma was surprised by Liam’s instigation, but she stopped paying attention to the ensuing argument about mercy rule as Killian caught her by the arm.

“Are you alright? Your leg is bleeding.” That’s not what she thought he’d say, but she looked down to see that she scraped her leg while sliding. There were cuts and scrapes from her knee down the side of her leg. Emma laughed to herself, as she just figured out why baseball players wear pants.

“I’m fine. Just scrapes.” Killian let out a breath in relief. “I can play the rest of the game and get some Band-Aids when I get home.” Killian gave her a look as if to ask if she was sure. She smiled at him and walked slowly toward the dugout to show him she was serious about finishing this game.

“Wait, Swan!” Killian stopped her before she sat down with the rest of the team. He scratched at the spot where his cap met the back of his ear. “That was incredible.”

Feeling heat rush to her cheeks, Emma looked down as she quietly said, “thanks.”

“How’d it feel?”

“Unbelievable.”

—-

To say the game was a success would be an understatement. In fact, they beat the crap out of those guys. The game was a series of the crack of the bat against the ball. They only allowed Neal’s team two more runs the entire game.

As the team all went to their respective homes to gather their saved-up allowances for a celebration at the nearest convenience store, Killian caught up to Emma.

“Hey, Swan.”

“Hey, Killian.”

“Do you want to watch baseball with me?”

“But the team’s going to get candy and Slurpees.”

Killian took off his baseball cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was thinking of skipping out on that.”

Emma stopped in her tracks. “Really?” He shrugged as he stopped a couple steps ahead of her.

“I kinda want to save my money for when we go to that baseball game.” Emma nodded in understanding but stayed silent. Killian sighed. “Will you at least clean up your leg before you go with them?”

After a brief pause, Emma spoke. “Actually, I was thinking I’d watch baseball with my best friend instead.” Killian raised his eyebrows. “After I get some Band-Aids,” she added.

“Liam,” Killian called after his brother, who looked back at Emma and Killian, who were way behind the rest of the group. “Emma and I are going to skip the store. See you at home.” Liam nodded and joined the other boys as they made their way down the street.

“Do you want to come over?” Emma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ingrid and Arthur are still at work, but they won’t mind.”

“Sure, Swan.” Emma led Killian to her house. She unlocked the door and showed him to the living room, where the Swans kept their best television set.  “You can start watching if you want.” She handed him the remote. “I’ll be back once I wash this off and get a couple Band-Aids.”

Killian put the remote on the arm of the couch. “Let me help you.”

“Okay,” Emma replied softly as she went upstairs to her bathroom. “There should be some first aid stuff in here.” Emma went to bend down to look under the sink, but Killian stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Sit down, Swan. Let me.” She just nodded as she sat on the closed toilet and Killian rummaged under her sink. She stretched her leg out over the bathtub edge next to her as she waited for her friend. “Aha!” He pulled out a white first-aid kit and placed it on the sink. He opened it and fished out some antibiotic cream and a few large Band-Aids. “I’m going to wash it off first. Do you have a clean rag I can use?”

“Washcloths are in the towel closet behind you.” Killian nodded and grabbed a teal washcloth and wet it with cold water and some soap. He wrung it out to even the soap covering and turned to Emma.

“Sorry if this hurts. It’s just soap and water, but you never know.” He waited for Emma’s signal that she was ready before he turned his attention to her scraped leg. He dropped to his knees as he gently placed the cloth over the first and highest scrape, cleaning it out carefully and working his way down, stopping to rewash the cloth every so often. The blood had pretty much dried through the rest of the game, but it was staining the towel red. Killian finished cleaning up her leg, and he washed off the cloth once more before asking where her laundry was so he could put the pink-stained cloth in there. After dropping the cloth in the laundry basket, Killian came back to Emma and started opening Band-Aids.

“Thanks for this, Killian.”

He stopped what he was doing and smiled at her.

“Of course, Swan.” He turned back to opening the Band-Aid wrapper in his hand. “And I know you could have done this yourself, but you don’t have to. I hope you know that.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Yeah. I’m figuring that out.”

“And you didn’t have to ditch the rest of the group just because I was.” He put down the open Band-Aid in his hand and looked at her. “You didn’t do that because I asked you to, right?”

“Don’t worry, Killian. I’m not really in the mood to spend all my money on bubble gum and candy.”

“And I really don’t need to see Scarlet puke up multi-colored Slurpee.” They both laughed.

“That too.” Neither of them did anything for a moment. “Besides,” Emma broke the silence and looked at the ground before bringing her eyes back to Killian’s, “I have a box of Apollo bars downstairs. Ever since she found out it’s my favorite candy, Ingrid always keeps some in the house.”

“Well, you’ve definitely earned an Apollo bar, Swan. Stealing home! Do you know how hard that is?!” Killian put some antibiotic cream on the soft part of each of the bandages as he went on about what a great game they all played. Emma couldn’t keep her attention on his words because a thought was nagging at the back of her mind.

“Uh, Killian,” Emma frowned. “I want to tell you something. Just so you know.”

“Yeah, Swan?”

“Liam - he told me about you and Neal.” Killian nearly dropped the Band-Aid in his hand.

“He did?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It wasn’t his story to tell. He just thought I should know why you all hate Neal so much.”

Killian put down the Band-Aid this time. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m not proud of it.”

“It’s okay,” Emma covered his left hand with her right. His hand twitched in response, but he didn’t pull away. She could feel the scars from where his hand had busted open; they would never go away completely. “I just wanted you to know that I know.” He nodded. “And Neal’s a jerk. He probably deserved it.” Emma laughed softly when Killian chuckled, a smile breaking out on his face.

“Thanks, Swan.” They shared a smile before Killian brought his attention back to the task at hand. “So all these bandages have cream on them to keep your scrapes from getting infected.” He grabbed one and again looked to Emma for a cue to start. She nodded and he put the first Band-Aid on her knee, then the rest where the scrapes were the worst. After he finished, he threw the wrappers in the trash and put the cream back in the first-aid kit. “All done.”

“Thank you, Killian.” There was more comfortable silence as Killian returned the first-aid where he got it.

“Ready to watch some baseball?”

“Yeah. Totally. Want an Apollo bar?” She asked as they made their way back downstairs.

He stopped just short of the last couple steps. She almost fell on top of him. “You’d share your favorite candy with me?”

“Sure.”

“Um, yeah. That’d be great.” Emma noticed his ears turning pink before he turned around and found a spot on her couch. Emma grabbed two Apollo bars from the kitchen and took a seat next to him as he found a game to watch on TV.

And watching the game with Killian was just like the first time - Killian interrupting the game with trivia and stats while Emma took everything in, both the game and Killian.

—-

Ingrid came home in the middle of the eighth inning.

“Emma, I’m home!”

“In here, Ingrid!” Emma’s mother walked in the living room to find Emma and Killian sitting next to each other on the couch, two empty Apollo bar wrappers on the coffee table in front of them.

“Hi there, Killian. Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Mrs. Swan,” Killian smiled at Ingrid.

“Please, it’s Ingrid, especially now that you’re best friends with my daughter.” She picked up the candy wrappers and threw them away as Killian blushed ever so slightly and reassured her he’d call her Ingrid from then on, though they both knew he wouldn’t. “Killian,” Ingrid called from the kitchen, “would you like to stay for dinner?”

He muted the television and shifted so he was facing the kitchen. “I don’t want to inconvenience your family.”

“It wouldn’t be an inconvenience. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like. I’ll call your mom.”

Killian turned to Emma to see if she’d like him to stay. That would make all the difference. She nodded enthusiastically. “Stay.”

“I’d love to, Mrs. Swan - err, Ingrid.”

“Great! I’ll call your mom to let her know.”

“Thank you, Ingrid,” he said, feeling awkward as he said it. Emma laughed beside him as he unmuted the television. Since Ingrid got home, Emma was hyper-aware of everything going on - the game on the television, the pull of the Band-Aids on her skin every time she bent or straightened her leg, her foster mother chatting gleefully with Killian’s mom on the phone, Killian’s shoulder still touching hers as he alternated between getting lost watching the game and spouting out fun facts. Her senses all seemed to be on high alert, so much so that she nearly jumped when Ingrid called her name from the kitchen.

“Emma,” Ingrid called again.

“Yeah, hi. Sorry! Tuned out for a second.”

“No problem, sweetie. Could you set the table? Your father will be home soon.”

“Sure.” Emma told Killian he could keep watching as she stood up and made her way to the kitchen. She made her way to the drawer with the silverware as Ingrid checked the spaghetti on the stove.

“Did you have a good day, Em?”

“Yeah. We played against some rich jerks and we totally crushed them.” She started putting forks on the table when Ingrid turned around and noticed Emma’s bandaged leg for the first time.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“What?” Emma had honestly forgotten about her scrapes because they didn’t hurt anymore.

“Your leg, honey.”

“Oh. I just scraped it sliding home.” She couldn’t quite keep from smiling at the accomplishment.

“You scored?” Ingrid’s voice was filled with pride. Emma nodded, grinning harder.

“I stole home.” Ingrid dropped the spoon she was holding into the saucepan on the stove as she rushed over to Emma to hug her.

“Congratulations, Emma.”

“Thanks.” Emma’s cheeks turned pink as she glanced downward.

“We’ll have to celebrate. Ice cream for dessert? Any toppings you want!”

“Wow! Thank you!” Ingrid looked at her foster daughter, smiling from ear to ear before going back into worried mom mode.

“Did you clean off the scrapes?”

Emma nodded again. “Yeah. Killian washed them out and put that anti-infection cream on them when he put the Band-Aids on it.”

“Killian did that?”

“Yeah. I told him I could do it and he didn’t have to.”

“That was very gentlemanly of him, don’t you think?” Ingrid glanced over at Killian, still watching baseball on the couch.

“It was nice of him.”

“He’s a good friend to you.”

Emma followed Ingrid’s gaze to Killian, still sitting on the couch watching the game. “The best.”

—-

Emma was drawing at the desk in her room when she heard something knock against the window. She shook it off and ignored it. And then it happened again. And again. Emma put her pencil down and rushed to her window expecting to sese Killian. Instead, she saw Neal.

She cracked her window open just barely and crossed her arms, not giving him the satisfaction of her coming down to meet him.

“What do you want, Neal?”

“Come down here, Ems. It’ll be much easier to talk to you.”

“And if I don’t want to talk to you?”

“Please.” She knew he knew there was nothing he could really do if she refused. She was in control. She sighed and put up her hand to tell him to wait there as she headed to her backyard.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have a proposal for you.” She said nothing, only raised her eyebrows in question. “How would you like to play on a real baseball diamond all the time?”

“I don’t…”

“I want you on my team, Ems.” She shivered at the way he used a nickname for her.

“I already have a team.”

“Yeah, but how are you supposed to get better when you play with a bunch of losers?”

“They’re not losers. You seem to be forgetting they - we kicked your team’s butt.” She definitely bruised his ego with that one; he was bad at hiding that fact. “Plus, they’re my friends.”

“Sure. Friends. But stealing home, Ems - no one on my team would even think of it. It’s impressive. We could use you.”

“I’m happy where I am.”

“Talent like yours deserves to be realized on a diamond, not a dusty clearing.”

“It’s not talent. Killian taught me.”

“Ems, I’ve seen you. You can play.”

“Killian took a chance on me when I couldn’t even throw a ball. I’ll never abandon him. If it weren’t for Killian, I wouldn’t be playing anywhere. Not even the sandlot.”

“I don’t think you’re getting this. You could play for a good, real team on a real field.”

“Actually, you’re not getting it. I don’t want to play with any other team. I like the one I have. We might not play on a real diamond, but we’re friends. Besides, the sandlot’s not so bad.”

“We could be your friends, too, Ems.”

“First of all, stop calling me that. I hate that nickname…”

“Little Jones gives everyone nicknames.”

“Killian calls most of us by our last names. His nickname thing is treating us like we’re all professional players. He sees life as a ball game.”

“Well, isn’t it?” He caught her off guard. “Life throws us pitches - fastballs, curveballs - and we decide if we’re going to let it pass or swing for the fences. And I’m pitching you a change-up. Come play with us. You’ll still have your old friends.”

“No thanks, Neal. I’m going to go back inside now.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“I really don’t think I will.”

—-

“Emma, the Joneses are here!” Ingrid yelled for Emma to come to the door.

“I’m here, Ingrid,” Emma answers as she rushes down the stairs.

“You have everything?”

“I put sunscreen on. I have my phone. I have some money. Mrs. Jones has my ticket.”

“Here, honey.” Ingrid rummaged around through her wallet and pulled out some bills. “This is for food. This is for your ticket. Alice will probably refuse, but offer it.” Emma nodded her understanding. “And this,” Ingrid pulled out some extra money and handed it to her daughter, “is for anything you might see that you want.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Thank you so much, Ingrid!” Overcome with emotion, Emma surged forward and hugged her foster mom.

“Have a great time, Emma.” Emma pulled away and opened the door to find Killian standing there waiting for her.

“I will, Ingrid,” she answered as she waved and closed the door behind her.

“Good afternoon, Swan.”

“Hey, Killian.”

“Ready for your first game?”

“Yeah. I’m so excited!”

He led her to his mom’s car and opened the car door for her. “After you, Swan.”

“Thanks, Killian.” She sat and said hello to Liam and Alice in the front of the car. “Thanks for bringing me, Ms. Alice. I have money for my ticket.”

“Nonsense, Emma. You’re our guest. Thank you for offering, but no that you’ll never have to pay when we invite you. We’re happy to have you here with us.”

“Well, thank you so much.”

There was some awkward silence as Alice pulled away from Emma’s house and onto the road.

“So, Swan, we’re going to Citi Field. The New York Mets play there. Today, they’re playing the Los Angeles Dodgers.” Killian listed facts about the stadium and the field until Emma interrupted him.

“Can I ask a stupid question - no judgement?”

“Sure, Swan.”

“Are we rooting for the Mets or the Dodgers?”

Killian opened his mouth to answer, but Liam beat him to it. “That is not a stupid question, Emma, because my brother here is a fan of literally every baseball team in the major league. And minor leagues.”

Killian closed his mouth.

“Well, Emma,” Alice started, peeking at Emma through her rear-view mirror, “we’re in New York, so most of the people there are going to cheer for the Mets, but you can cheer for whoever you want.”

Emma muttered a quiet “thanks” and glanced at Killian, who shrugged, nonverbally agreeing with what his mom said. Emma noticed Killian’s blue Mets hat, so she made the decision to just go with the crowd. When it was clear Alice and Liam were done interrupting, Killian started spouting player and team stats. Emma listened, but she didn’t understand what most of the numbers meant. She’d look up baseball stats when she got home. But for now, Emma listened to Killian and ignored Alice’s smiles in the rear-view mirror and Liam’s glances into the back of the car.

—-

When they got to the stadium, Emma’s excitement receded just a tad to nervousness. There was already a large crowd at the gates. There was a massive sea of blue - blue shirts, blue hats - all with dashes of orange somewhere on them. It would be so easy to get lost. She should’ve expected that from a Saturday night game.

Perceptive as ever, Killian linked his arm with Emma’s so they wouldn’t get separated. They followed Alice and Liam to a line. When they claimed a space in one of the lines to get in, Emma looked around, already struggling to take it all in. There were just so many people around, and she could barely register anything other than that.

“You alright, Swan?”

Her mouth was dry so she just nodded.

“We’ve got awesome seats. They’re just past third base.” He was talking about baseball as he normally would, but Emma knew he was just talking now to make her more comfortable. She listened to him and kept her eyes switching between Alice and Liam in front of them and Killian beside her, and, finally, she started to relax. Killian was only halfway through his favorite ballpark foods when the line started moving at a consistent pace. Unconsciously tightening her arm with Killian’s, she walked forward, never allowing more than a few inches between herself and Alice. Alice handed the stadium employee their four tickets, and the group passed through the turnstile.

Emma was officially in an MLB stadium for the first time in her life.

Alice decided they should find their seats before they break up to get food and souvenirs, so Emma followed closely behind as they entered the maze of sections and food vendors and Mets shops. She didn’t know what to focus on as they passed a hot dog stand, then section 108, then a nacho stand, then a souvenir stand. She was assaulted by the smell of hot dogs and beer, and she found she could get used to it pretty quickly.

“Wow,” she mumbled to herself.

“Pretty cool, right?” Killian was beaming.

“How do you know what to do with yourself? There’s so much.”

“Lots of practice. Or coming with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Lucky I’m here with you then, huh?”

Emma found it hard to look at him while they spoke, as they had to make sure they didn’t lose the older Joneses. That also didn’t stop her from trying.

“Well,” Killian never finished his thought. She knows he would’ve been scratching his ear if he could. Alice paused in front of a section - section 122. Killian grinned at Emma as Alice worked the tickets out of her purse. He spoke softly, “I feel lucky to be here when you experience your first game.” Oh, so that was the end of that thought. Emma nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I wouldn’t be here if not for you.” She considered telling him about Neal asking her to join his team, but ultimately decided she didn’t want to ruin his day. This was special for him. Who was she to be a downer? She’d tell him another day.

“Swan?” He swiped his hand in front of her face.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I know it’s overwhelming.”

“Yeah.”

“Ready to find our seats?”

“Absolutely,” she smiled. He tugged on her arm, still linked with his, to get her to walk with him. They eventually had to separate arms to head down the stairs to their seats, but when they all sat down, Emma’s hand landed on Killian’s on the arm rest they shared as she took it all in. “It’s huge!”

Killian kept his eyes trained on Emma as she looked around the stadium from her seat very close to the field. He let out a breath of relief as he noticed her smiling. “Not too much?”

“Maybe, but I’ll get used to it. This is,” she bit her lip as she tried to find the right words. When she didn’t find them, she just went with the first adjective that came to her mind. “So cool.”

“Killian,” Alice took Killian’s attention off Emma momentarily, “why don’t you and Emma stay here while Liam and I get some early dinner. Then you two can go when we get back.”

“Sounds good, Mum.” Alice gave Killian his and Emma’s tickets and grabbed Liam’s sleeve to drag him out of his seat.

Emma was still in the moment. She watched the grounds crew work on the field, painting straight white lines on the dirt. In the outfield, she caught sight of some players practicing throws. She didn’t know people could throw that far. And the baseball diamond was way bigger than the one they played on against Neal. Thoughts danced through her head as she tried to imagine getting to play on a real diamond like that every day. She looked to the scoreboard. The Mets logo was front and center on the screen, and there was a countdown to the game in smaller numbers below. They had gotten there really early.

“They don’t look as big as I thought they would,” Emma pointed to the players on the field.

“But wait ‘til you see what they can do! They throw over a hundred miles an hour!”

“Scarlet can’t do that.”

“Not even close.” They both laughed. “And when they hit a home run, Swan, it goes all the way out of the park over there.”

Emma’s gaze followed his finger. “That’s ridiculously far!”

“I want to be able to do that one day.”

“If anyone can, it’s you. You’re the best player I know.”

“I don’t know, Swan. I’m okay in the sandlot, but in the major leagues?”

“What do you mean?” She finally turned to look at Killian for the first time since before they sat down.

“After the whole fight between Neal and me, my hand was messed up. My mum took me to physical therapy three times a week while it healed. I told them I wanted to be a baseball player, but they said I might never be able to use my hand completely normally.” Emma could see how painful that was for Killian to admit. He found it hard to keep his eyes on Emma’s.

“But that doesn’t make sense,” she started talking without thinking. “You’re the best player in the neighborhood, maybe even the state.”

“It still hurts sometimes when I use it too much. It cramps a lot. Or when the skin stretches too much.” He brought his left hand from the armrest and showed Emma. She’d never gotten a good look at it before. She was still unconsciously holding his right hand.

“So what if you can’t use your hand totally normally? You’re good - the best. And if you want to, you will end up here.”

“You really think so, Swan?”

“I know it.”

“Thank you, truly.”

—-

“Any idea what you might want to eat, Swan?” Killian led Emma up the stairs and back into the covered stadium halls.

“None at all. Any recommendations?”

“There’s your classic ballpark food - hot dogs, nachos, burgers, popcorn, Cracker Jack, ice cream, pretzels.” He pointed to concession stands as they walked by. “There are also chicken tenders and barbeque and pizza and stuff like that.” Killian led Emma to a part of the stadium with sit-down restaurants and fancier-looking stands. “But we’ve also got some special food. It’s more expensive, but it’s supposed to be good. There’s deli sandwiches, seafood, and all kinds of other stuff if you want to sit down.”

Emma looked around at everything trying to examine all her options before deciding.

“Anything you want, Swan, it’s on us. My mum said not to let you pay, so don’t even ask.”

Emma opened her mouth to argue but knew it would be pointless. “Fine. Thanks, Killian.” He nodded in response, clearly waiting for her to make a decision. She glanced around her some more, still debating her options. The specialty food smelled amazing, but she wasn’t paying, and she didn’t want to take advantage of Alice’s generosity. Not to mention she kinda wanted to go back to her seat so she could have the real stadium experience.

“I like it all. I’ll eat anything you want,” Killian added, hoping to relieve some of the pressure off Emma.

“Do you want to share? Like, I get one thing and you get one thing and we, you know, split it?” Emma watched the smile slowly spread over Killian’s face.

“You’re bloody brilliant, Swan. This way, you can try even more food.”

“You’re the expert. What should we get to share?”

“What about chicken tenders and a hot dog? Liam usually caves and gets nachos during the seventh inning stretch, so we can steal some of his.”

“Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”

“I know you’ve had chicken tenders and hot dogs before.” Killian froze mid-walk. “Wait. Have you?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, Killian. I’ve had those before.” She felt the breath he let out in relief.

“Well, these hot dogs and chicken tenders are different. They’re better somehow.”

“I trust you.”

“Hey, we should look at merch before we get the food so it’s easier to carry and doesn’t get cold and all.” Emma shrugged and gestured for Killian to lead the way. He took them to a Mets store next to a concession stand closer to their section. They had ended up pretty far away when they wandered around debating dinner.

“One condition of me going in there, Killian.” He raised an eyebrow in silent question. “You have to let me pay for my own stuff here. Ingrid gave me money to get myself something I see that I want.”

Killian considered her proposition for a moment. “Okay. Deal.”  

The two walked into the little store together. Emma had no clue what she wanted. Maybe she’d get a hat or a glove so she could stop using Killian’s. With that in mind, she went to the gloves.

“Swan, what are you doing? You have a glove.”

“Your glove. If I get one, you can have your old one back.”

“It doesn’t fit me anymore. It’s my old glove. It’s perfect on you.” Emma didn’t really have a response. He told her as much when he gave her his glove, but she had always planned to give it back to him. “Look, Swan, why don’t you get something you actually want, not something you think you need?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The glove was a gift. And so was the hat, so don’t even think about it. Although you can never have too many hats.” Emma accepted that he wasn’t going to let her give anything back, but she wasn’t wearing at hat at the moment and she wanted to get one to keep the sun out of her eyes. Not to mention, she could get herself a hat, which would be special for her to have something she got herself for herself.

“I might get another hat.”

“Yeah?” Emma nodded, walking toward a wall full of nothing but hats. She found a few that she loved, but she made her final choice pretty easily. And since the hat she chose was actually on sale, she ended up getting the hat and a baseball signed by the entire team - well, the entire team pre-season, which isn’t the same as the current team, but still cool. Killian got a few packs of baseball cards and a signed baseball for himself. He also used some of the allowance money he’d saved up to get a jersey.

“Jerseys are expensive.”

“That’s why I saved up so much. This way, I get the jersey and I still have some money left over.”

“Smart.” There was silence as they took their bags full of new stuff and headed over to get food. “The jersey looks good on you. You’re totally going to play one day. And people are going to spend an absurd amount of money to wear your jersey.”

His response was so quiet, Emma could barely hear it, but he was smiling. “Thanks, Swan.”

She could sense him getting emotional, so she decided to spare him. “So food?”

“Aye.” And just like that, they were back to normal. He bought them a hot dog and chicken tenders with fries. Emma wrapped both their merch bags around her wrist as she put ketchup, mustard, and relish on the hot dog because Killian told her she needed the full experience. Handing the hot dog back to Killian, she got them both little cups of ketchup for their chicken tenders and fries. She got a couple cups of barbeque sauce as well because, as Killian put it, why not?

Balancing all the food and condiments, they made their way back to their seats. Emma was thankful Killian remembered exactly where they sat without consulting the tickets or asking for help. She might not have gotten back on her own.

“You two made out well,” Alice stood up to let the kids through to their seats.

“Emma got a hat and a baseball signed by the whole team pre-season.”

“That’s great, Emma!”

“Um, thanks for the food, Ms. Alice. I could have paid.”

“I know, dear. You’re still our guest. You aren’t paying for food.” Alice smiled at Emma, and Emma smiled back. “And I hope you’ll let me get you a snack later - ice cream or cotton candy or popcorn or something.”

“Sure.” Emma’s smile grew.

“Let’s eat while the food’s still hot, Swan.” Emma’s attention switched from Alice to Killian. “You should start with the hot dog.”

“Okay. So I’ll eat half then?”

“Perfect.” She traded the condiments for the hot dog. He put the cups in the chicken tender basket and she finally took a bite.

With a mouthful of hot dog, she commented, “okay, this really is better.”

“I would never lie to you, Swan.” Emma swallowed and kept her eyes on her best friend for a silent moment before just going for another bite. Killian dipped a chicken tender in barbeque sauce and bit it off. It had been silent for too long, so Killian spoke, “have a fry.” Emma took a fry from his basket and dipped it in ketchup. The fry was still hot, but she found she didn’t mind the grease burn. She shoved the rest of the fry into her mouth after it had been exposed to the air for a few seconds before finishing her half of the hot dog.

“No other hot dog will ever be as good as a real, stadium hot dog.”

“Then we’ll just have to come back and get more.” Killian took the hot dog. She reached into the basket on his lap and took a chicken tender. They ate in relative silence as the players stopped practicing on the field and went back to their locker rooms.

They managed to finish their shared dinner approximately five minutes before the game was set to start. Emma got her hat out of her bag and put it on.

“The hat suits you.”

“Thanks.” Killian changed the subject and pointed to the dugouts. They could see a couple players going in and out, and Killian was already starting to get starstruck. And when the teams were introduced, Killian was practically vibrating with excitement. Liam laughed every time Killian cheered loudly or shouted comments on the players. Emma was amused at the whole situation. It did really feel like the players were celebrities with those introductions. She felt her breath being taken away as some of the players ran out onto the field. It really was, as she put it earlier, so cool. When they were instructed to stand for the national anthem, Killian was nearly beaming. And Emma was entirely charmed at the way his hair stood up when he took his hat off as a result of wearing the hat from the moment he woke up that morning. She fought the urge to smooth it down for him. Before she could dwell on that thought too much, they were sitting down again and the game was underway.

Emma was particularly fascinated with the pitch speeds. And when the first home run was hit by a Mets player, she nearly flinched at the loud crack of the bat. She watched the ball fly out of the park. Amazed, she leaned over to Killian and asked, “how do they do that?”

“They’re insanely talented at baseball.”

“So are you.”

“But this is so much bigger than the sandlot.” Emma said nothing. “They practice. They play baseball their entire lives and they only ever dream of ending up here.”

Killian started whispering predictions of plays into Emma’s ear, most of which actually pan out. When she adjusted to the depth perception change from their seats near third base, Emma started calling plays under her breath as they happened. Killian was impressed with her accuracy. For someone who couldn’t even throw a ball, she was a fast learner.

When a foul ball landed on the field directly in front of her, the ball boy threw the ball into the stands in their direction. It seemed to land directly in Killian��s hands, and he instantly gave it to her.

“I want you to have it. It’s your first game. It’s special.”

“You caught it. I can’t take it from you.”

“I want you to have it. Please.” She took the ball from his outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Killian. Seriously, thank you.”  She held onto the ball for two entire innings until, like Killian predicted, Liam came back with nachos in the seventh inning. Grumbling as Killian started stealing salsa- and cheese-covered chips, Liam offered the nachos to Emma. Putting her ball in her bag for safekeeping, she thanked Liam as she took a chip from the top with barely any cheese, but a big jalapeno on top.

“Emma, are you sure? That’s a jalapeno. It’s super spicy.”

“I like spice,” she reassured Liam. He still looked unsure. She ate the chip and jalapeno in one bite. She didn’t even flinch.

“Wow, I’m impressed.” Liam held the nachos out to her again. “You can eat my nachos whenever you want, especially if you eat the jalapenos.” Emma took another chip, but this time there was some salsa and cheese as well as a jalapeno. She crunched the chip and turned back to Killian, offering him another chip she grabbed when Liam offered.

“Thanks, Swan.” He took the chip from her and ate it. “I can’t believe you can eat jalapenos like that. I thought I was the only one.”

“You like jalapenos, too?”

“Aye. That’s the only reason Liam gets them.” She snagged Killian a toppings-covered chip with a juicy jalapeno sitting on top.

“How come Liam doesn’t want to share with you then? I mean, if he gets them for you, why was he all grumpy about you taking his chips?”

“He wants me to eat only the jalapenos.” They both laughed. “Normally I will. And just a couple chips, too.” They both ate chips for a minute. “Also…” there was a glob of cheese stuck to Killian’s lip. He licked it off. “…I’m his younger brother. Of course he doesn’t want to share with me.”

After polishing off the nachos, Emma and Killian headed out to get some snacks during a pitching change.

“Any clue what you want?”

“Actually, I was thinking ice cream.”

“Perfect.” Killian walked up to the concession stand and ordered an ice cream and a soft pretzel. When the chocolate and vanilla swirled ice cream was handed to Emma, she was delighted to find it served in a miniature Mets helmet.

“This is so cool!” She held up the helmet bowl so Killian could see it. He chuckled.

“When you finish the ice cream, you can wash the helmet out and keep it.”

“I will. That’s awesome! Who thought of that?”

“No idea, love, but I have, like, 4 different ice cream helmets. It’s fantastic.” Killian thanked the concessions worker for the pretzel and they went back to their seats. He offered her a piece of the pretzel, and she offered him some ice cream in return. Emma loved them both, but she was glad she got most of the ice cream. It had been a hot afternoon, and it was only just starting to cool down as the night took over. Emma loved the way the bright stadium lights sparkled in Killian’s blue eyes, and she may have caught him watching her a couple times. She wanted to experience this moment of the stars coming out and the stadium lights going on more often. There was something extremely satisfying about a night game.

Her experience was made even better when the Mets pulled a win and the whole stadium roared with cheers. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling, but she was so happy to cheer along with everyone else.

When Emma was dropped back home, Ingrid had to tell her to slow down so she could understand everything Emma was telling her about the day. Arthur smiled and added some commentary of different aspects of the ballpark experience Emma mentioned. Arthur even offered her some unused ball cases for her game-used ball and her signed ball.

Emma got ready for bed, a few new additions to her room, as Ingrid walked by to wish her goodnight.

“I’m glad you had a great day, Emma.”

“It was, Ingrid. It really was. Thank you.”

“Maybe you and your father can go to a game.” Emma knew Ingrid wanted her to bond with Arthur, and Emma could think of nothing better than going to a game with him.

“I’d love that.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Ingrid.” Emma saw Ingrid smile before she turned off Emma’s light. As Emma thought about it - her new family and her new friends -  she realized just how happy she was.

[emersonxcassidy]

"That sounds like a resounding yes to me." Emerson replied with a teasing little grin. Not that she expected anything less really; Felix was personable, was sweet and kind of goofy and a good friend. Add onto that the obvious fact that he was charming and attractive? Of course he was popular in school. Especially now that he'd mentioned he even did sports? It was a no brainer. "Although...emergency room? What's the story there?" Vaguely she knew rugby was rather...physical (and dangerous), but Emerson didn't otherwise know the first thing about it. Or sports in general.

They quite definitely came from different worlds.

"Definitely not boring, especially since I asked." She looked up at him again as they walked, her steps slow but nearly unconscious as she walked the halls again for the first time in years, muscle memory kicking in as she easily turned a corner and went down a hallway, some speakers in the school funneling the music through the halls still. "And my high school days....definitely weren't anything like yours." Emerson's voice quietened a bit then, something flickering on her expression before she looked away and finally nodded towards a doorway, relief on her face as she found it unlocked and she opened the door, easily finding the light switch and illuminating the school's little library. "This is where I spent my days."

Again Emerson's footfalls slowed as she walked into the familiar room, the smell of old books hitting her, music still able to be heard inside as she looked around, fingers absently grazing over books as she passed. "My entire life was practically plagued by the fact that I was a Cassidy. The daughter of criminals. Addicts. They never saw me, they saw the stain of my parents. And then in high school, especially my later years....I was seen as the sister of a convict more than anything else." She'd told Felix about her past and her family's history, but it was always a bit vague, never wanting to touch on it too much. "It's why I read so much. The books never judged me, and the worlds in the pages were ones I could disappear into."

She kept walking as she spoke, a sad little smile on her lips as she looked at familiar shelves, at comfortable little spots she'd spend so much time in she often fell asleep in here. "It didn't matter how smart I was. How I was always willing to help if anyone needed it. It was all overshadowed by....everything else. So I came here. A lot. The librarian was kind to me. I mean, I did have friends, and sometimes I was with my brother's friends....they're the ones that took care of me, when Jamie was sent away. They watched out for me when he couldn't. But mainly I was here. I kept my head down and blended into the background as best I could and...that was how my high school days were. Spent here in this room. Quiet and safe. My own little sanctuary."

Felix let out a soft laugh as he followed Emerson out of the gym. He didn't know his way around Aurora Bay high, and while he had fond memories of his own high school, he wasn't sure if they'd even make him happy to reminisce them and they'd probably just make him sad at this point. He missed everything about home so talking about didn't exactly help either.

"I, uh.. well, I wouldn't say most popular." Felix started, a grin pulled onto his lips as let out a soft laugh. "It wasn't really a bad experience. I did well in school, had friends, I played rugby, too. Not for as long as I liked though. My mum always hated that Dante and I played but we always assured her it was fine. Then she got a call that I was in the emergency room from a bad hit I took. I quit after that. For her sake. I would've loved to keep playing. I was known for that for a while in school, a lot of people thought I was too scared to come back, so it was a bit annoying to hear people give me shit about it. It was never a terrible experience or anything though."

"Sorry to bore you with all that. Shouldn't we talk about your high school days? These are your grounds, of course."

@emersonxcassidy

[the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt]

You’re Killing Me, Swan - Chapter 2/3

It’s chapter 2! Once again, all the best to everyone involved in @fallforcs. And some reminders that @theonceoverthinker is a great beta, and @sailingcaptainswan made the gorgeous art for this story. My longer, sappier thank yous are in the Chapter 1 post.  I hope everyone who reads this loves it! 

Rating: G

Also on Ao3 

“Let’s play ball!” David screamed as the team ran onto the baseball diamond for the game against Neal and his posse.

Neal’s team was already there, all the boys in their positions on the field, throwing a baseball around between them. The home team seemed visibly put off by the screams announcing the arrival of the team from the sandlot.

Killian led his team to an area near the bench that would serve as the dugout for this game.

“Okay, team. David’s leadoff. Then Scarlet’s the 2-spot. Liam is the 3-hole. I’m the cleanup. Robin is the 5 position. Grumpy - spot 6. Sneezy - spot 7. Swan, you’re batting 8. And Squints, take us home as the 9 player.” The team all nodded. There were a couple “okay”s, an ��aye, aye, Captain,” and Sneezy sneezed. “And Scarlet, you'll pitch.” Will saluted Killian and Killian dismissed the group to go sit on the bench.

David stepped up to the plate. His teammates on the bench took in the field in front of him. David made a show out of taking some practice swings and sauntering up to the base.

“Hurry up, batter,” the tall catcher - Pan, Emma remembered - pushed David.

“Relax, Pan,” Neal, who was on the pitcher’s mound, yelled. “It's gonna be a short game, and I gotta get home for lunch.”

David took his position and nodded to Neal that he was ready. First was a swing and a miss.

Pan snickered, “that’s one!”

David hit the next pitch - a double. The sandlot team cheered as Will ran after the bat to where David tossed it before he ran. Will hit a single. Liam hit a double. Killian was on deck.

“Spread back, guys. Little Jonesy is good,” Neal sent his team back further out on the field to prepare for a big hit from Killian.

Eric leaned over to Emma and whispered, “he’s got this,” before retreating back to his own space and pushing up his glasses.

Neal released the first pitch, and it almost hit Killian. Emma saw Liam clench his fists at second as he watched his brother barely move out of the way of the ball. Emma could see Killian’s jaw clench from her place on the bench.

Will was the only one to speak up. “Oi! Watch it, Cassidy!”

“Shut up, Scarlet.” Neal didn’t take his gaze off Killian, who was taking a couple breaths before stepping back up to the plate.

“Not my problem if the only way you think you can win is by taking out Jones!”  

“Scarlet!” Neal barked, glaring at Will on third. Will shrugged in response, earning laughter from his team in the dugout. Neal shook it off, narrowing his eyes at Killian, and throwing another pitch, which collided with Killian’s bat. Neal’s teammates hit the fence as the ball soared over it for a home run. Killian ran the bases and arrived back to the bench to high-fives from his team.

On deck was Robin, who hit a single. The twins both got out - Grumpy with a flyout and Sneezy with a strikeout. Emma hit the ball with enough distance to get her to first, but Robin tried getting two bases out of it and got tagged out at third. Even with the three outs, the group of kids from the sandlot ended their first half an inning with 4 runs.

Neal’s team managed to score 1 in the bottom of the first, but that 1 was never going to be enough, and both teams knew it.

By the time the fifth inning came around, Neal was in danger of taking Grumpy’s nickname from him. The top half of the fifth, Emma led off with a triple, and Eric got her home with a sacrifice fly. But that was the only easy out the other team got the entire half inning. David, Will, Liam, Killian, and Robin all hit easily, quickly making their way around the bases. Grumpy and Sneezy both hit singles, which Emma followed with another triple. It appeared she figured out Neal’s pitching style. She smirked at Neal from third when he kept looking back at her.

At that moment, Emma made up her mind: She was going to steal home.

Emma glanced at Killian and the rest of her teammates in the dugout for support. When they figured out her intention, they all got quiet. In that moment, Neal looked over to the dugout to see why they went silent, and Emma ran. Neal’s guard was down, he was relaxed, and he was entirely unprepared to throw the ball. He didn’t think to turn back to Emma until she was halfway home. When he spotted her dashing, he cursed out Felix at third for not warning him sooner and threw the ball toward Pan at home, but due to his lack of preparation for the throw, it fell short, making Pan shuffle around to grab it before Emma touched home. Not concerning herself with the other team and their attempts to get her out, she leapt into the air and slid into home, not only touching it to be called safe, but also marking the first time ever she’s slid on a baseball field. Her team jumped off their bench and ran over to her to celebrate her stealing home, and Pan threw the ball at the ground in frustration as the kids from the sandlot roared and cheered. Liam, Robin, Will, and David lifted Emma as the team continued cheering for her. She really felt like a real baseball player at that moment, and she felt like part of a real team. As the boys put her down, she high-fived everyone as they made their way back to their bench so they could continue the game.

“Maybe we should follow a mercy rule, huh, Neal?” Emma was surprised by Liam’s instigation, but she stopped paying attention to the ensuing argument about mercy rule as Killian caught her by the arm.

“Are you alright? Your leg is bleeding.” That’s not what she thought he’d say, but she looked down to see that she scraped her leg while sliding. There were cuts and scrapes from her knee down the side of her leg. Emma laughed to herself, as she just figured out why baseball players wear pants.

“I’m fine. Just scrapes.” Killian let out a breath in relief. “I can play the rest of the game and get some Band-Aids when I get home.” Killian gave her a look as if to ask if she was sure. She smiled at him and walked slowly toward the dugout to show him she was serious about finishing this game.

“Wait, Swan!” Killian stopped her before she sat down with the rest of the team. He scratched at the spot where his cap met the back of his ear. “That was incredible.”

Feeling heat rush to her cheeks, Emma looked down as she quietly said, “thanks.”

“How’d it feel?”

“Unbelievable.” ---- To say the game was a success would be an understatement. In fact, they beat the crap out of those guys. The game was a series of the crack of the bat against the ball. They only allowed Neal’s team two more runs the entire game.

As the team all went to their respective homes to gather their saved-up allowances for a celebration at the nearest convenience store, Killian caught up to Emma.

“Hey, Swan.”

“Hey, Killian.”

“Do you want to watch baseball with me?”

“But the team’s going to get candy and Slurpees.”

Killian took off his baseball cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was thinking of skipping out on that.”

Emma stopped in her tracks. “Really?” He shrugged as he stopped a couple steps ahead of her.

“I kinda want to save my money for when we go to that baseball game.” Emma nodded in understanding but stayed silent. Killian sighed. “Will you at least clean up your leg before you go with them?”

After a brief pause, Emma spoke. “Actually, I was thinking I’d watch baseball with my best friend instead.” Killian raised his eyebrows. “After I get some Band-Aids,” she added.

“Liam,” Killian called after his brother, who looked back at Emma and Killian, who were way behind the rest of the group. “Emma and I are going to skip the store. See you at home.” Liam nodded and joined the other boys as they made their way down the street.

“Do you want to come over?” Emma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ingrid and Arthur are still at work, but they won’t mind.”

“Sure, Swan.” Emma led Killian to her house. She unlocked the door and showed him to the living room, where the Swans kept their best television set.

“You can start watching if you want.” She handed him the remote. “I’ll be back once I wash this off and get a couple Band-Aids.”

Killian put the remote on the arm of the couch. “Let me help you.”

“Okay,” Emma replied softly as she went upstairs to her bathroom. “There should be some first aid stuff in here.” Emma went to bend down to look under the sink, but Killian stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Sit down, Swan. Let me.” She just nodded as she sat on the closed toilet and Killian rummaged under her sink. She stretched her leg out over the bathtub edge next to her as she waited for her friend. “Aha!” He pulled out a white first-aid kit and placed it on the sink. He opened it and fished out some antibiotic cream and a few large Band-Aids. “I’m going to wash it off first. Do you have a clean rag I can use?”

“Washcloths are in the towel closet behind you.” Killian nodded and grabbed a teal washcloth and wet it with cold water and some soap. He wrung it out to even the soap covering and turned to Emma.

“Sorry if this hurts. It’s just soap and water, but you never know.” He waited for Emma’s signal that she was ready before he turned his attention to her scraped leg. He dropped to his knees as he gently placed the cloth over the first and highest scrape, cleaning it out carefully and working his way down, stopping to rewash the cloth every so often. The blood had pretty much dried through the rest of the game, but it was staining the towel red. Killian finished cleaning up her leg, and he washed off the cloth once more before asking where her laundry was so he could put the pink-stained cloth in there. After dropping the cloth in the laundry basket, Killian came back to Emma and started opening Band-Aids.

“Thanks for this, Killian.”

He stopped what he was doing and smiled at her.

“Of course, Swan.” He turned back to opening the Band-Aid wrapper in his hand. “And I know you could have done this yourself, but you don’t have to. I hope you know that.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Yeah. I’m figuring that out.”

“And you didn’t have to ditch the rest of the group just because I was.” He put down the open Band-Aid in his hand and looked at her. “You didn’t do that because I asked you to, right?”

“Don’t worry, Killian. I’m not really in the mood to spend all my money on bubble gum and candy.”

“And I really don’t need to see Scarlet puke up multi-colored Slurpee.” They both laughed.

“That too.” Neither of them did anything for a moment. “Besides,” Emma broke the silence and looked at the ground before bringing her eyes back to Killian’s, “I have a box of Apollo bars downstairs. Ever since she found out it’s my favorite candy, Ingrid always keeps some in the house.”

“Well, you’ve definitely earned an Apollo bar, Swan. Stealing home! Do you know how hard that is?!” Killian put some antibiotic cream on the soft part of each of the bandages as he went on about what a great game they all played. Emma couldn’t keep her attention on his words because a thought was nagging at the back of her mind.

“Uh, Killian,” Emma frowned. “I want to tell you something. Just so you know.”

“Yeah, Swan?”

“Liam - he told me about you and Neal.” Killian nearly dropped the Band-Aid in his hand.

“He did?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It wasn’t his story to tell. He just thought I should know why you all hate Neal so much.”

Killian put down the Band-Aid this time. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m not proud of it.”

“It’s okay,” Emma covered his left hand with her right. His hand twitched in response, but he didn’t pull away. She could feel the scars from where his hand had busted open; they would never go away completely. “I just wanted you to know that I know.” He nodded. “And Neal’s a jerk. He probably deserved it.” Emma laughed softly when Killian chuckled, a smile breaking out on his face.

“Thanks, Swan.” They shared a smile before Killian brought his attention back to the task at hand. “So all these bandages have cream on them to keep your scrapes from getting infected.” He grabbed one and again looked to Emma for a cue to start. She nodded and he put the first Band-Aid on her knee, then the rest where the scrapes were the worst. After he finished, he threw the wrappers in the trash and put the cream back in the first-aid kit. “All done.”

“Thank you, Killian.” There was more comfortable silence as Killian returned the first-aid where he got it.

“Ready to watch some baseball?”

“Yeah. Totally. Want an Apollo bar?” She asked as they made their way back downstairs.

He stopped just short of the last couple steps. She almost fell on top of him. “You’d share your favorite candy with me?”

“Sure.”

“Um, yeah. That’d be great.” Emma noticed his ears turning pink before he turned around and found a spot on her couch. Emma grabbed two Apollo bars from the kitchen and took a seat next to him as he found a game to watch on TV.

And watching the game with Killian was just like the first time - Killian interrupting the game with trivia and stats while Emma took everything in, both the game and Killian. ---- Ingrid came home in the middle of the eighth inning.

“Emma, I’m home!”

“In here, Ingrid!” Emma’s mother walked in the living room to find Emma and Killian sitting next to each other on the couch, two empty Apollo bar wrappers on the coffee table in front of them.

“Hi there, Killian. Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Mrs. Swan,” Killian smiled at Ingrid.

“Please, it’s Ingrid, especially now that you’re best friends with my daughter.” She picked up the candy wrappers and threw them away as Killian blushed ever so slightly and reassured her he’d call her Ingrid from then on, though they both knew he wouldn’t. “Killian,” Ingrid called from the kitchen, “would you like to stay for dinner?”

He muted the television and shifted so he was facing the kitchen. “I don’t want to inconvenience your family.”

“It wouldn’t be an inconvenience. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like. I’ll call your mom.”

Killian turned to Emma to see if she’d like him to stay. That would make all the difference. She nodded enthusiastically. “Stay.”

“I’d love to, Mrs. Swan - err, Ingrid.”

“Great! I’ll call your mom to let her know.”

“Thank you, Ingrid,” he said, feeling awkward as he said it. Emma laughed beside him as he unmuted the television. Since Ingrid got home, Emma was hyper-aware of everything going on - the game on the television, the pull of the Band-Aids on her skin every time she bent or straightened her leg, her foster mother chatting gleefully with Killian’s mom on the phone, Killian’s shoulder still touching hers as he alternated between getting lost watching the game and spouting out fun facts. Her senses all seemed to be on high alert, so much so that she nearly jumped when Ingrid called her name from the kitchen.

“Emma,” Ingrid called again.

“Yeah, hi. Sorry! Tuned out for a second.”

“No problem, sweetie. Could you set the table? Your father will be home soon.”

“Sure.” Emma told Killian he could keep watching as she stood up and made her way to the kitchen. She made her way to the drawer with the silverware as Ingrid checked the spaghetti on the stove.

“Did you have a good day, Em?”

“Yeah. We played against some rich jerks and we totally crushed them.” She started putting forks on the table when Ingrid turned around and noticed Emma’s bandaged leg for the first time.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“What?” Emma had honestly forgotten about her scrapes because they didn’t hurt anymore.

“Your leg, honey.”

“Oh. I just scraped it sliding home.” She couldn’t quite keep from smiling at the accomplishment.

“You scored?” Ingrid’s voice was filled with pride. Emma nodded, grinning harder.

“I stole home.” Ingrid dropped the spoon she was holding into the saucepan on the stove as she rushed over to Emma to hug her.

“Congratulations, Emma.”

“Thanks.” Emma’s cheeks turned pink as she glanced downward.

“We’ll have to celebrate. Ice cream for dessert? Any toppings you want!”

“Wow! Thank you!” Ingrid looked at her foster daughter, smiling from ear to ear before going back into worried mom mode.

“Did you clean off the scrapes?”

Emma nodded again. “Yeah. Killian washed them out and put that anti-infection cream on them when he put the Band-Aids on it.”

“Killian did that?”

“Yeah. I told him I could do it and he didn’t have to.”

“That was very gentlemanly of him, don’t you think?” Ingrid glanced over at Killian, still watching baseball on the couch.

“It was nice of him.”

“He’s a good friend to you.”

Emma followed Ingrid’s gaze to Killian, still sitting on the couch watching the game. “The best.” ---- Emma was drawing at the desk in her room when she heard something knock against the window. She shook it off and ignored it. And then it happened again. And again. Emma put her pencil down and rushed to her window expecting to sese Killian. Instead, she saw Neal.

She cracked her window open just barely and crossed her arms, not giving him the satisfaction of her coming down to meet him.

“What do you want, Neal?”

“Come down here, Ems. It’ll be much easier to talk to you.”

“And if I don’t want to talk to you?”

“Please.” She knew he knew there was nothing he could really do if she refused. She was in control. She sighed and put up her hand to tell him to wait there as she headed to her backyard.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have a proposal for you.” She said nothing, only raised her eyebrows in question. “How would you like to play on a real baseball diamond all the time?”

“I don’t…”

“I want you on my team, Ems.” She shivered at the way he used a nickname for her.

“I already have a team.”

“Yeah, but how are you supposed to get better when you play with a bunch of losers?”

“They’re not losers. You seem to be forgetting they - we kicked your team’s butt.” She definitely bruised his ego with that one; he was bad at hiding that fact. “Plus, they’re my friends.”

“Sure. Friends. But stealing home, Ems - no one on my team would even think of it. It’s impressive. We could use you.”

“I’m happy where I am.”

“Talent like yours deserves to be realized on a diamond, not a dusty clearing.”

“It’s not talent. Killian taught me.”

“Ems, I’ve seen you. You can play.”

“Killian took a chance on me when I couldn’t even throw a ball. I’ll never abandon him. If it weren’t for Killian, I wouldn’t be playing anywhere. Not even the sandlot.”

“I don’t think you’re getting this. You could play for a good, real team on a real field.”

“Actually, you’re not getting it. I don’t want to play with any other team. I like the one I have. We might not play on a real diamond, but we’re friends. Besides, the sandlot’s not so bad.”

“We could be your friends, too, Ems.”

“First of all, stop calling me that. I hate that nickname...”

“Little Jones gives everyone nicknames.”

“Killian calls most of us by our last names. His nickname thing is treating us like we’re all professional players. He sees life as a ball game.”

“Well, isn’t it?” He caught her off guard. “Life throws us pitches - fastballs, curveballs - and we decide if we’re going to let it pass or swing for the fences. And I’m pitching you a change-up. Come play with us. You’ll still have your old friends.”

“No thanks, Neal. I’m going to go back inside now.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“I really don’t think I will.” ---- “Emma, the Joneses are here!” Ingrid yelled for Emma to come to the door.

“I’m here, Ingrid,” Emma answers as she rushes down the stairs.

“You have everything?”

“I put sunscreen on. I have my phone. I have some money. Mrs. Jones has my ticket.”

“Here, honey.” Ingrid rummaged around through her wallet and pulled out some bills. “This is for food. This is for your ticket. Alice will probably refuse, but offer it.” Emma nodded her understanding. “And this,” Ingrid pulled out some extra money and handed it to her daughter, “is for anything you might see that you want.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Thank you so much, Ingrid!” Overcome with emotion, Emma surged forward and hugged her foster mom.

“Have a great time, Emma.” Emma pulled away and opened the door to find Killian standing there waiting for her.

“I will, Ingrid,” she answered as she waved and closed the door behind her.

“Good afternoon, Swan.”

“Hey, Killian.”

“Ready for your first game?”

“Yeah. I’m so excited!”

He led her to his mom’s car and opened the car door for her. “After you, Swan.”

“Thanks, Killian.” She sat and said hello to Liam and Alice in the front of the car. “Thanks for bringing me, Ms. Alice. I have money for my ticket.”

“Nonsense, Emma. You’re our guest. Thank you for offering, but no that you’ll never have to pay when we invite you. We’re happy to have you here with us.”

“Well, thank you so much.”

There was some awkward silence as Alice pulled away from Emma’s house and onto the road.

“So, Swan, we’re going to Citi Field. The New York Mets play there. Today, they’re playing the Los Angeles Dodgers.” Killian listed facts about the stadium and the field until Emma interrupted him.

“Can I ask a stupid question - no judgement?”

“Sure, Swan.”

“Are we rooting for the Mets or the Dodgers?”

Killian opened his mouth to answer, but Liam beat him to it. “That is not a stupid question, Emma, because my brother here is a fan of literally every baseball team in the major league. And minor leagues.”

Killian closed his mouth.

“Well, Emma,” Alice started, peeking at Emma through her rear-view mirror, “we’re in New York, so most of the people there are going to cheer for the Mets, but you can cheer for whoever you want.”

Emma muttered a quiet “thanks” and glanced at Killian, who shrugged, nonverbally agreeing with what his mom said. Emma noticed Killian’s blue Mets hat, so she made the decision to just go with the crowd. When it was clear Alice and Liam were done interrupting, Killian started spouting player and team stats. Emma listened, but she didn’t understand what most of the numbers meant. She’d look up baseball stats when she got home. But for now, Emma listened to Killian and ignored Alice’s smiles in the rear-view mirror and Liam’s glances into the back of the car. ----

When they got to the stadium, Emma’s excitement receded just a tad to nervousness. There was already a large crowd at the gates. There was a massive sea of blue - blue shirts, blue hats - all with dashes of orange somewhere on them. It would be so easy to get lost. She should’ve expected that from a Saturday night game.

Perceptive as ever, Killian linked his arm with Emma’s so they wouldn’t get separated. They followed Alice and Liam to a line. When they claimed a space in one of the lines to get in, Emma looked around, already struggling to take it all in. There were just so many people around, and she could barely register anything other than that.

“You alright, Swan?”

Her mouth was dry so she just nodded.

“We’ve got awesome seats. They’re just past third base.” He was talking about baseball as he normally would, but Emma knew he was just talking now to make her more comfortable. She listened to him and kept her eyes switching between Alice and Liam in front of them and Killian beside her, and, finally, she started to relax. Killian was only halfway through listing his favorite ballpark foods when the line started moving at a consistent pace. Unconsciously tightening her arm with Killian’s, she walked forward, never allowing more than a few inches between herself and Alice. Alice handed the stadium employee their four tickets, and the group passed through the turnstile.

Emma was officially in an MLB stadium for the first time in her life.

Alice decided they should find their seats before they break up to get food and souvenirs, so Emma followed closely behind as they entered the maze of sections and food vendors and Mets shops. She didn’t know what to focus on as they passed a hot dog stand, then section 108, then a nacho stand, then a souvenir stand. She was assaulted by the smell of hot dogs and beer, and she found she could get used to it pretty quickly.

“Wow,” she mumbled to herself.

“Pretty cool, right?” Killian was beaming.

“How do you know what to do with yourself? There’s so much.”

“Lots of practice. Or coming with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Lucky I’m here with you then, huh?”

Emma found it hard to look at him while they spoke, as they had to make sure they didn’t lose the older Joneses. That also didn’t stop her from trying.

“Well,” Killian never finished his thought. She knows he would’ve been scratching his ear if he could. Alice paused in front of a section - section 122. Killian grinned at Emma as Alice worked the tickets out of her purse. He spoke softly, “I feel lucky to be here when you experience your first game.” Oh, so that was the end of that thought. Emma nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I wouldn’t be here if not for you.” She considered telling him about Neal asking her to join his team, but ultimately decided she didn’t want to ruin his day. This was special for him. Who was she to be a downer? She’d tell him another day.

“Swan?” He swiped his hand in front of her face.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I know it’s overwhelming.”

“Yeah.”

“Ready to find our seats?”

“Absolutely,” she smiled. He tugged on her arm, still linked with his, to get her to walk with him. They eventually had to separate arms to head down the stairs to their seats, but when they all sat down, Emma’s hand landed on Killian’s on the arm rest they shared as she took it all in. “It’s huge!”

Killian kept his eyes trained on Emma as she looked around the stadium from her seat very close to the field. He let out a breath of relief as he noticed her smiling. “Not too much?”

“Maybe, but I’ll get used to it. This is,” she bit her lip as she tried to find the right words. When she didn’t find them, she just went with the first adjective that came to her mind. “So cool.”

“Killian,” Alice took Killian’s attention off Emma momentarily, “why don’t you and Emma stay here while Liam and I get some early dinner. Then you two can go when we get back.”

“Sounds good, Mum.” Alice gave Killian his and Emma’s tickets and grabbed Liam’s sleeve to drag him out of his seat.

Emma was still in the moment. She watched the grounds crew work on the field, painting straight white lines on the dirt. In the outfield, she caught sight of some players practicing throws. She didn’t know people could throw that far. And the baseball diamond was way bigger than the one they played on against Neal. Thoughts danced through her head as she tried to imagine getting to play on a real diamond like that every day. She looked to the scoreboard. The Mets logo was front and center on the screen, and there was a countdown to the game in smaller numbers below. They had gotten there really early.

“They don’t look as big as I thought they would,” Emma pointed to the players on the field.

“But wait ‘til you see what they can do! They throw over a hundred miles an hour!”

“Scarlet can’t do that.”

“Not even close.” They both laughed. “And when they hit a home run, Swan, it goes all the way out of the park over there.”

Emma’s gaze followed his finger. “That’s ridiculously far!”

“I want to be able to do that one day.”

“If anyone can, it’s you. You’re the best player I know.”

“I don’t know, Swan. I’m okay in the sandlot, but in the major leagues?”

“What do you mean?” She finally turned to look at Killian for the first time since before they sat down.

“After the whole fight between Neal and me, my hand was messed up. My mum took me to physical therapy three times a week while it healed. I told them I wanted to be a baseball player, but they said I might never be able to use my hand completely normally.” Emma could see how painful that was for Killian to admit. He found it hard to keep his eyes on Emma’s.

“But that doesn’t make sense,” she started talking without thinking. “You’re the best player in the neighborhood, maybe even the state.”

“It still hurts sometimes when I use it too much. It cramps a lot. Or when the skin stretches too much.” He brought his left hand from the armrest and showed Emma. She’d never gotten a good look at it before. She was still unconsciously holding his right hand.

“So what if you can’t use your hand totally normally? You’re good - the best. And if you want to, you will end up here.”

“You really think so, Swan?”

“I know it.”

“Thank you, truly.”

---- “Any idea what you might want to eat, Swan?” Killian led Emma up the stairs and back into the covered stadium halls.

“None at all. Any recommendations?”

“There’s your classic ballpark food - hot dogs, nachos, burgers, popcorn, Cracker Jack, ice cream, pretzels.” He pointed to concession stands as they walked by. “There are also chicken tenders and barbeque and pizza and stuff like that.” Killian led Emma to a part of the stadium with sit-down restaurants and fancier-looking stands. “But we’ve also got some special food. It’s more expensive, but it’s supposed to be good. There’s deli sandwiches, seafood, and all kinds of other stuff if you want to sit down.”

Emma looked around at everything trying to examine all her options before deciding.

“Anything you want, Swan, it’s on us. My mum said not to let you pay, so don’t even ask.”

Emma opened her mouth to argue but knew it would be pointless. “Fine. Thanks, Killian.” He nodded in response, clearly waiting for her to make a decision. She glanced around her some more, still debating her options. The specialty food smelled amazing, but she wasn’t paying, and she didn’t want to take advantage of Alice’s generosity. Not to mention she kinda wanted to go back to her seat so she could have the real stadium experience.

“I like it all. I’ll eat anything you want,” Killian added, hoping to relieve some of the pressure off Emma.

“Do you want to share? Like, I get one thing and you get one thing and we, you know, split it?” Emma watched the smile slowly spread over Killian’s face.

“You’re bloody brilliant, Swan. This way, you can try even more food.”

“You’re the expert. What should we get to share?”

“What about chicken tenders and a hot dog? Liam usually caves and gets nachos during the seventh inning stretch, so we can steal some of his.”

“Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”

“I know you’ve had chicken tenders and hot dogs before.” Killian froze mid-walk. “Wait. Have you?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, Killian. I’ve had those before.” She felt the breath he let out in relief.

“Well, these hot dogs and chicken tenders are different. They’re better somehow.”

“I trust you.”

“Hey, we should look at merch before we get the food so it’s easier to carry and doesn’t get cold.” Emma shrugged and gestured for Killian to lead the way. He took them to a Mets store next to a concession stand closer to their section. They had ended up pretty far away when they wandered around debating dinner.

“One condition of me going in there, Killian.” He raised an eyebrow in silent question. “You have to let me pay for my own stuff here. Ingrid gave me money to get myself something I see that I want.”

Killian considered her proposition for a moment. “Okay. Deal.”  

The two walked into the little store together. Emma had no clue what she wanted. Maybe she’d get a hat or a glove so she could stop using Killian’s. With that in mind, she went to the gloves.

“Swan, what are you doing? You have a glove.”

“Your glove. If I get one, you can have your old one back.”

“It doesn’t fit me anymore. It’s my old glove. It’s perfect on you.” Emma didn’t really have a response. He told her as much when he gave her his glove, but she had always planned to give it back to him. “Look, Swan, why don’t you get something you actually want, not something you think you need?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The glove was a gift. And so was the hat, so don’t even think about it. Although you can never have too many hats.” Emma accepted that he wasn’t going to let her give anything back, but she wasn’t wearing at hat at the moment and she wanted to get one to keep the sun out of her eyes. Not to mention, she could get herself a hat, which would be special for her to have something she got for herself.

“I might get another hat.”

“Yeah?” Emma nodded, walking toward a wall full of nothing but hats. She found a few that she loved, but she made her final choice pretty easily. And since the hat she chose was actually on sale, she ended up getting the hat and a baseball signed by the entire team - well, the entire team pre-season, which isn’t the same as the current team, but still cool. Killian got a few packs of baseball cards and a signed baseball for himself. He also used some of the allowance money he’d saved up to get a jersey.

“Jerseys are expensive.”

“That’s why I saved up so much. This way, I get the jersey and I still have some money left over.”

“Smart.” There was silence as they took their bags full of new stuff and headed over to get food. “The jersey looks good on you. You’re totally going to play one day. And people are going to spend an absurd amount of money to wear your jersey.”

His response was so quiet, Emma could barely hear it, but he was smiling. “Thanks, Swan.”

She could sense him getting emotional, so she decided to spare him. “So food?”

“Aye.” And just like that, they were back to normal. He bought them a hot dog and chicken tenders with fries. Emma wrapped both their merch bags around her wrist as she put ketchup, mustard, and relish on the hot dog because Killian told her she needed the full experience. Handing the hot dog back to Killian, she got them both little cups of ketchup for their chicken tenders and fries. She got a couple cups of barbeque sauce as well because, as Killian put it, why not?

Balancing all the food and condiments, they made their way back to their seats. Emma was thankful Killian remembered exactly where they sat without consulting the tickets or asking for help. She might not have gotten back on her own.

“You two made out well,” Alice stood up to let the kids through to their seats.

“Emma got a hat and a baseball signed by the whole team pre-season.”

“That’s great, Emma!”

“Um, thanks for the food, Ms. Alice. I could have paid.”

“I know, dear. You’re still our guest. You aren’t paying for food.” Alice smiled at Emma, and Emma smiled back. “And I hope you’ll let me get you a snack later - ice cream or cotton candy or popcorn or something.”

“Sure.” Emma’s smile grew.

“Let’s eat while the food’s still hot, Swan.” Emma’s attention switched from Alice to Killian. “You should start with the hot dog.”

“Okay. So I’ll eat half then?”

“Perfect.” She traded the condiments for the hot dog. He put the cups in the chicken tender basket and she finally took a bite.

With a mouthful of hot dog, she commented, “okay, this really is better.”

“I would never lie to you, Swan.” Emma swallowed and kept her eyes on her best friend for a silent moment before just going for another bite. Killian dipped a chicken tender in barbeque sauce and bit it off. It had been silent for too long, so Killian spoke, “have a fry.” Emma took a fry from his basket and dipped it in ketchup. The fry was still hot, but she found she didn’t mind the grease burn. She shoved the rest of the fry into her mouth after it had been exposed to the air for a few seconds before finishing her half of the hot dog.

“No other hot dog will ever be as good as a real, stadium hot dog.”

“Then we’ll just have to come back and get more.” Killian took the hot dog. She reached into the basket on his lap and took a chicken tender. They ate in relative silence as the players stopped practicing on the field and went back to their locker rooms.

They managed to finish their shared dinner approximately five minutes before the game was set to start. Emma got her hat out of her bag and put it on.

“The hat suits you.”

“Thanks.” Killian changed the subject and pointed to the dugouts. They could see a couple players going in and out, and Killian was already starting to get starstruck. And when the teams were introduced, Killian was practically vibrating with excitement. Liam laughed every time Killian cheered loudly or shouted comments on the players. Emma was amused at the whole situation. It did really feel like the players were celebrities with those introductions. She felt her breath being taken away as some of the players ran out onto the field. It really was, as she put it earlier, so cool. When they were instructed to stand for the national anthem, Killian was nearly beaming. And Emma was entirely charmed at the way his hair stood up when he took his hat off as a result of wearing the hat from the moment he woke up that morning. She fought the urge to smooth it down for him. Before she could dwell on that thought too much, they were sitting down again and the game was underway.

Emma was particularly fascinated with the pitch speeds. And when the first home run was hit by a Mets player, she nearly flinched at the loud crack of the bat. She watched the ball fly out of the park. Amazed, she leaned over to Killian and asked, “how do they do that?”

“They’re insanely talented at baseball.”

“So are you.”

“But this is so much bigger than the sandlot.” Emma said nothing. “They practice. They play baseball their entire lives and they only ever dream of ending up here.”

Killian started whispering predictions of plays into Emma’s ear, most of which actually pan out. When she adjusted to the depth perception change from their seats near third base, Emma started calling plays under her breath as they happened. Killian was impressed with her accuracy. For someone who couldn’t even throw a ball, she was a fast learner.

When a foul ball landed on the field directly in front of her, the ball boy threw the ball into the stands in their direction. It seemed to land directly in Killian’s hands, and he instantly gave it to her.

“I want you to have it. It’s your first game. It’s special.”

“You caught it. I can’t take it from you.”

“I want you to have it. Please.” She took the ball from his outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Killian. Seriously, thank you.”  She held onto the ball for two entire innings until, like Killian predicted, Liam came back with nachos in the seventh inning. Grumbling as Killian started stealing salsa- and cheese-covered chips, Liam offered the nachos to Emma. Putting her ball in her bag for safekeeping, she thanked Liam as she took a chip from the top with barely any cheese, but a big jalapeno on top.

“Emma, are you sure? That’s a jalapeno. It’s super spicy.”

“I like spice,” she reassured Liam. He still looked unsure. She ate the chip and jalapeno in one bite. She didn’t even flinch.

“Wow, I’m impressed.” Liam held the nachos out to her again. “You can eat my nachos whenever you want, especially if you eat the jalapenos.” Emma took another chip, but this time there was some salsa and cheese as well as a jalapeno. She crunched the chip and turned back to Killian, offering him another chip she grabbed when Liam offered.

“Thanks, Swan.” He took the chip from her and ate it. “I can’t believe you can eat jalapenos like that. I thought I was the only one.”

“You like jalapenos, too?”

“Aye. That’s the only reason Liam gets them.” She snagged Killian a toppings-covered chip with a juicy jalapeno sitting on top.

“How come Liam doesn’t want to share with you then? I mean, if he gets them for you, why was he all grumpy about you taking his chips?”

“He wants me to eat only the jalapenos.” They both laughed. “Sometimes I just want a couple chips, too.” They both ate chips for a minute. “Also...” there was a glob of cheese stuck to Killian’s lip. He licked it off. “...I’m his younger brother. Of course he doesn’t want to share with me.” Emma winked at Killian and snagged him some of Liam's chips under the guise they were for her.

After polishing off the nachos, Emma and Killian headed out to get some snacks during a pitching change.

“Any clue what you want?”

“Actually, I was thinking ice cream.”

“Perfect.” Killian walked up to the concession stand and ordered an ice cream and a soft pretzel. When the chocolate and vanilla swirled ice cream was handed to Emma, she was delighted to find it served in a miniature Mets helmet.

“This is so cool!” She held up the helmet bowl so Killian could see it. He chuckled.

“When you finish the ice cream, you can wash the helmet out and keep it.”

“I will. That’s awesome! Who thought of that?”

“No idea, love, but I have, like, 4 different ice cream helmets. It’s fantastic.” Killian thanked the concessions worker for the pretzel and they went back to their seats. He offered her a piece of the pretzel, and she offered him some ice cream in return. Emma loved them both, but she was glad she got most of the ice cream. It had been a hot afternoon, and it was only just starting to cool down as the night took over. Emma loved the way the bright stadium lights sparkled in Killian’s blue eyes, and she may have caught him watching her a couple times. She wanted to experience this moment of the stars coming out and the stadium lights going on more often. There was something extremely satisfying about a night game.

Her experience was made even better when the Mets pulled a win and the whole stadium roared with cheers. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling, but she was so happy to cheer along with everyone else.

When Emma was dropped back home, Ingrid had to tell her to slow down so she and Arthur could understand everything Emma was telling them about the day. Arthur smiled and added some commentary of different aspects of the ballpark experience Emma mentioned. Arthur even offered her some unused ball cases for her game-used ball and her signed ball.

Emma got ready for bed, a few new additions to her room, as Arthur walked by to wish her goodnight.

“I’m glad you had a great day, Emma.”

“It was, Arthur. It really was. Thank you.”

“Maybe we could go to a game together," he suggested. He and Emma hadn't really bonded much since the black eye incident, and Emma could think of nothing better than going to a game with him.

“I’d love that.” She heard his relieved exhale. She wasn't just a meal ticket. Her new parents actually wanted to spend time with her.

“Goodnight, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Arthur.” Emma saw him smile before he turned off her light. As Emma thought about it - her new family and her new friends -  she realized just how happy she was.

[merrock]

The following roles have been inactive for ten or more days and have until Monday to get active or contact main for a hiatus before removal:

JEREMY HOLBROOK -- @jeremyhlbrk

FELIX ORTIZ -- @felixortz

As a gentle reminder, the following roles have been inactive for five or more days, and are asked to please keep an eye on their activity:

DELAINA BISHOP -- @delaina

VIVENNE CASSIDY -- @viviennecassidy

MARISA HERNANDEZ -- @mazhcrndcz

CLEMENTINE NEWMAN -- @clemnewman

In addition, the following players are being given a gentle warning/reminder to reply to starters, as they haven’t since our last pass through of the list (early October):

Sylvia / Alec / Jayla ( @xsylcuenco @xalecjacobs @xjaylayellowbird )

[arirashkae]

Fluff Prompt: In a different life, Locus stays with Siris rather than Felix.

Yay another sideways detour from a prompt!  XD

What Little Girls Are Made Of

Characters: Samuel ‘Locus’ Ortez, OCs

Rating: T for late middle-school bs

Word count: 1057

AO3

“I’m sorry, Sam, but this is exactly why we put you down as an emergency contact.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing his friend couldn’t see him but would know about it anyway. “I know. I know. But–” He sighed. “Mason, what am I supposed to do?”

“What else?” Mason laughed. “Give ‘em hell.”

No weapons allowed on school property, the sign proclaimed. It hung on the glass doors, next to signs requesting all visitors sign in, listing dates of the upcoming school play, and the somehow ubiquitous “Hang in there!” kitten.

Sam snorted as he was buzzed in. Did “No weapons” include people like him? Mason’s leg must drive the metal detectors crazy. And Megan … she was probably the most dangerous of the three of them.

He signed his name to the book and affixed the ridiculously cheerful “Visitor!” sticker to his shirt. Well, at least it was obvious enough what his status was. Sam still missed the days of IFFs and HUDs, though.

Mason still did too, from time to time. At least, that’s what he’d let slip one night after a few beers. Sam deliberately turned his thoughts away from wondering if anyone else did.

The door to the dean’s office creaked as he pushed it open. Maybe someday he could shut off the part of his brain that was frowning at shoddy maintenance. His therapist said that was a normal, civilian thing to do, and not to worry about it. As long as he didn’t start obsessing.

It still bothered him though. Put his back up slightly. His eyes had flicked over the assembled group, cataloguing and assessing threats before the door had even closed behind him.

Cassidy Naprovnick gave him a slight nod and an even slighter smile. A training accident had meant she was sent home instead of to the front, but the Dean of Students still understood that some things were more instinctive than breathing.

Justus Biagiotti – better known to the students as “Officer Justice” – didn’t have that same bone-deep understanding, but he never questioned Sam’s quick sweep of whatever room they were in.

The girl sitting on the far side of the room offered him a small wave. “Hiya, Uncle Sam.” Her shoulders crept up to her ears at his unimpressed look. She slid one foot back and forth across the backpack at her feet, fidgeting.

“I thought the girl’s parents were being called.”

Sam followed the snotty voice to a man sitting with his arm wrapped protectively around a boy’s shoulders. His son, presumably. Sam clamped down on the swell of pride at the boy’s split lip and swelling eye. The ice pack he was holding would probably be more effective if he actually held it to his face.

“I’m sorry to say Mr. & Ms. Wu are currently unavailable.” Naprovnick didn’t sound all that sorry at all. “Sgt. Ortez is more than capable of handling this situation.”

Ah. That’s how this was going to play out. Biagiotti hid a smile at the emphasis she put on Sam’s rank. Sam himself was still sometimes uncomfortable with reminders of his service, even as he was more comfortable in military fatigues than civilian clothes, but it proved useful occasionally.

This was apparently going to be one of those occasions. He turned back to the girl. “Nicole. What happened?”

“I’ll tell you what happened! She attacked my boy! Completely unprovoked!”

“He tried to put his hand up my shirt!” she shot back. “I told him to knock it off or he’d regret it.”

They all turned to the boy, who shifted uncomfortably. “It was just a joke,” he muttered.

The father stuck his nose in the air. Sam tried to remember if he’d gotten their names, before deciding he really didn’t care. “See? He was joking. A harmless prank. Her reaction was excessive and uncalled for!”

“Perhaps he is right,” Sam said, throttling back the urge to wipe that supercilious look off the other man’s face. Nicole had obviously done well enough on her own. “I’m sure Ms. Wu, in particular, would be more than willing to leave a conference with her client to handle her daughter’s sexual assault case.”

It was viciously satisfying to watch them pale simultaneously. “Now see here, Mr. Ortez–”

“Sergeant.”

“…I beg your pradon?”

“Sergeant Ortez.”

Sam hadn’t thought the other man could get any paler, but somehow he managed it. He could see the exact moment righteous indignation parted enough for Sam’s appearance – from combat boots to scars – to register.

Idly, Sam wondered if he might actually faint. It would end this farce sooner, and far more amusingly, if he did. He turned back to Nicole. “What have we told you?”

“Don’t aim for the face because I risk my hand. If I have to aim for the face, aim for the nose. And don’t start the fight, but definitely be the one to end it.”

He didn’t bother suppressing his smirk at the outraged blustering behind him. “Very good.”

BIagiotti didn’t seem to be having any an easier time keeping a straight face. “I’ll have my report written up and sent home tomorrow,” he managed.

Sam nodded, then turned to Naprovnick. She smiled as well. “The school day is almost over, so you can collect your things, Nicole, and leave early,” she said. “If Sgt. Ortez is alright with that?”

Sam nodded. The boy and his father shrank back from him even more at the continued use of his rank, and he was enjoying every moment of it. There was a certain class of civilians he had no patience for, and these two seemed to be squarely in that category.

Nicole hopped out of the chair and slipped her bag over her shoulders. “I’ve got everything already. I was supposed to have study hale this period,” she added in explanation to Sam.

The dean nodded. “Then just sign out at the office and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

As they stepped out into the sunlight, Sam peeled the garish sticker off with a sigh of relief. “Did you hurt your hand?”

“Nah,” she replied cheerfully. “I got him in the face with my knee. His stomach’s going to hurt for a while.”

He chuckled and ruffled her hair, laughing even harder when she ducked away with annoyed noises. “Good.”

I just really really wanted to use this scenario, and I know I grossly oversimplified how it would play out but I don’t caaaare XD

Lacking any better knowledge,I’ve decided Locus was a sergeant back during his UNSC days, mostly b/c it amused the hell out of me

[megairishrose]

Put a Patch on it chapter 12

Tara was running late for the afternoon's board meeting, the parent teacher conference had run long. Sophia was doing well in school, so well in fact that she could skip a grade. But first Neal and Tara had to weigh all their options.

"So sorry I'm late." She told everyone in the board room when she entered. Liam sat at one end of the large table looking over an open folder with the numbers for the quarter.

As soon as Tara took her seat, Ursula slid a folder over to her. The numbers were not good; they weren't terrible either. But the Jewel of the World had seen better days.

"As you can see, numbers are down but so is the economy. We aren't the only ones suffering. But we just have to roll with the punches and we will get through this slow time." Liam was saying, he sounded so confident.

But of course someone had to argue with him. Felix actually stood up. "Yes the numbers are down, but you are acting like this is the first time. The profit of the company has been dropping for the past two years…"

"Numbers drop and they always come back up." Tara replied, not looking up from the folder. She had to put him back in his place.

"Maybe if the head board members paid more attention to the company and less time on their personal lives, the Jewel wouldn't be in this situation…" Cora said delicately.

"At least we have personal lives, unlike some people." Tara cut in. She never liked any of the board members, but they had done so much for her in the past. So it was a hate/ tolerate relationship. And Tara knew Liam felt the same way.

Liam held up a hand, hoping to stop Tara from saying anything stupid. "And what situation would that be exactly?" He knew where this conversation was going but he wanted to straight out hear it.

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but Jewel of the World has dropped to number three." Cora said.

And it was Peter who took the cake. "To make everything easier for all parties involved, maybe you should hand over the company to the board. We have been running it longer than you and Tara…"

Liam finally got to his feet to stare down the man. "That's Mrs. Cassidy to you." He growled. "And I would never dream of handing over control to any of you. This company has been in my, in our family for five generations and I would be dead before I let you get your greedy hands on it…"

A sick smile crossed Peter's face. "Interesting choice of words, Mr. Jones…" He remarked and pulled out a gun from his jacket pocket.

Tara was the first to react, or would have been if Sidney hadn't grabbed her and pulled her under the table. Maybe it was to protect her. There were the other members under there.

But Tara had to get to Liam, he was the one who needed protection. She twisted out of Sidney's grip and crawled to the other end of the table but stopped and suddenly everything was in slow motion and she heard nothing.

Liam's face had shock, horror and utter betrayal written all over it. He took a step back then fell to the floor. His shirt was quickly turning red, right over his heart.

Now she found her voice, which ended up being a scream. This was not happening; this could not be happening. Her eyes were trained on Liam's form, she focused on his chest. He was still breathing so she prayed she could take down Peter.

Suddenly her ankle was grabbed and she was dragged out from under the table. Peter stood over her, gun aimed at her head. "One down, two to go…"

He meant to kill her and then kill Killian, was he planning on wiping out the whole family?

But she was never powerless. She kicked him in the knee, he lost grip on the gun, but not before firing it. The bullet hit the floor a few inches from Tara's head. The gun fell to the floor and Tara dove for it. Peter thought he was quicker but ended up getting a heel to the face.

Tara finally held the gun and pulled herself to her feet. She stood over Peter, gun aimed at him.

"You have fire, Tara. I like fire." There was something cruel and unsettling behind his voice.

She was going to kill him, there was no way around it. And good form dictated that she should not shoot a man on the ground. But at this point who cared about good form. Now where to shoot? Head or the chest. Well, Liam had been shot in the chest so…

"Interesting choice of words." Then Tara Cassidy fired the fatal shot. Peter was dead.

Now Tara dropped the gun and flew to Liam's side. "Liam, I'm right here, just hold on…"

Liam grabbed her hand with what little strength he had left. "I know… there's so much pain…"

Tara placed her hands over his heart in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "Help is on its way… Someone call 911!" She screamed to the room. "You are going to be fine."

"Tara, you that's not true… Do me a favor… Tell Roxanne I'm sorry. Tara, tell her I love her and I made her wait…"

"You can tell her yourself and then the two of you can make it official…"

"I'll send Mom and Dad your love, little sister…"

"Liam, shut up! Stop talking like that right now!" She wanted to hit him, knock some sense into him. Make him believe that everything was going to be alright, but nothing would ever be alright.

Liam began to whisper things and Tara bent close to hear him. Then Liam Patrick Jones breathed his last.

Tara finally let the tears flow freely and she loudly sobbed, not caring if she made a scene. A set of hands were suddenly on her shoulders, attempting to pull her away from Liam.

"No, I can't leave him! No, I won't. Liam, wake up!" Tara cried.

"Tara, he's gone." Said an emotionless voice near her ear.

"No, he can't be! Liam, this isn't funny, wake up now!" She screamed. She planned on screaming until her voice was horse or until Liam woke up, which ever came first.

"Tara, I'm sorry."

Tara froze and her eyes met Robin's. He was calm but she could tell he was holding his feelings back. He was as broken as she was.

Now her eyes traveled the room. All of the members were gone, moved into another room. Medical personnel were near Peter's body. There was crime scene tape across the door. Beyond that, Tara could see Regina talking to a police officer.

"Ma'am, we need to take him." Someone addressed her.

Tara attempted to cover Liam's body with her own, to shield and protect it, but Robin was faster. His strong arms wrapped around her and he just held her as Liam's lifeless body was put on a gurney, a white sheet placed over it and wheeled out of the room. She fought and screamed the whole time, but she was too weak to break his grip.

"He can't be gone; he can't be gone! Liam, come back to me… Liam!"

From some faraway place, she heard her name and recognized the voice.

[manybcdthings]

the prairie dog

felix ranstrom and cassidy edwards @secrettyrant

This was probably the stupidest thing Felix had ever done. Top ten, at least. Right up there with a Slushie tattoo and somehow always being drawn to women who thought astrology was a science. But this? Pretending like he wasn't scouring the town for Cordie? Yeah. Stupid. She left without much noise, just like always. Packed up her duffle and vanished. Bee socks included. He didn't know why he cared. Why did he care? It should have been a relief. He should have rejoiced in the fact there was no more of her lace poking out of laundry piles, and being unhelpfully pointed out by his probation worker. He should've relaxed again, knowing she wasn't trying to flip through his sketchbook. No more accidental use of his toothbrush. (That day was horrific.)

And yet. Three days of silence later, and Felix was pacing the edges of his own apartment like something was missing. Why did he care? He didn't text because he knew she wouldn't reply. And what would he even say? Sorry I saw too much and said it out loud? So instead, he found himself at The Dog. Somewhere between unbothered and desperate. Cordelia wasn't behind the bar. But, another Edwards was. He slid onto the stool opposite Cassidy and gave a quick nod. Didn't even bother with a drink, just looked over his shoulder like he was making sure even his demons wouldn't hear what he was about to say.

Because his voice came out strange. A little quieter than usual. Not quite sheepish but almost reluctant, like he was already cursing the question as it formed. "Has Cordie checked in with you?" Fuck, it sounded so stupid. Why did he even care? "Just..." Felix scratched the edge of his jaw. Shrugged. "Figured maybe she'd mention if she skipped town or something?"

Why did he care? God only knew.