#(direct from the desk of diana prince // answered)

[regrettablewritings]

Preference: You Move In Together

Characters: Tadashi Hamada, Dewey Finn, Diana Prince, Cassian Andor, Clark Kent

Tadashi Hamada

It started out with a kiss – how did it end up like this?

“This” being you holding a flashlight as high up as your crossed arms would let you as you bemusedly watched your boyfriend fiddle with the generator. Though, you already knew that answer: You two had finally settled down to relax and watch a movie (a little treat for getting through your third day of moving into your new apartment), when a flickering light coming from the kitchen began to distract you from your peripheral. Ever the assure-er, your beloved boyfriend insisted it wasn’t anything serious, that it could easily wait until the morning, and give you a kiss of comfort for good measure. But no: It could not wait until morning. It would not wait until morning.

Instead, whatever was going on waited until the climax of the movie to decide to blow the power out, plunging you both into a well of darkness. You groaned loudly, realizing that this meant the both of you would have to wait until morning to get somebody out here to check it out.

“Why wait?” Tadashi asked. “You have one of SFIT’s finest living with you!”

Surprisingly, robotics and electrical engineering were not quite the same – even one of SFIT’s finest could (and did) find himself struggling to figure out what the problem was.

And for as bemused as you were about the entire situation . . . some part of you couldn’t help but find the tiniest kernels of enjoyment in it. It was that part of you that knew that, a couple years in the future, this would be looked upon as a sweet moment. One of those moments older couples remember when looking back on how far they’d come together.

You two had only been moved in to your apartment for less than a month and already your lives felt so full of potential memories: From Tadashi attempting to make “the first breakfast of the rest of your lives” (and subsequently setting off your kinda crappy fire alarm); to you slipping down the stairs on your butt and thus earning his light taunts as he inspected the damage; to the both of you waking up to find your inflatable mattress had deflated overnight after only two nights of sleeping on it.

Your lives felt so full . . . yet it was clearly only the beginning. And that was certainly something to look forward to. Well, that, and having dependable electricity.

“Okay!” you heard Tadashi exclaim, rising up from his previous position. You didn’t need to direct the flashlight at his face to know that he was sporting that confident smile of his. “This time, I think I’ve got it. ‘And the Lord said --” He positioned his finger on the switch. “ ‘Let there be light!’” And with that, he gave it a victorious flip.

Nothing. Still darkness. The only thing that changed was that the silence was now awkward and well-earned. It was only broken by a single clap of hands.

“. . .  You craving McNuggets? I’m craving McNuggets.”

You blinked. “McNug -- Tadashi, it’s almost midnight.”

“McNuggets, (Y/N)! Let’s go! We can pick up donuts after!” Tadashi insisted, gently pushing you towards the coat closet to retrieve a jacket. In the hustle and bustle, you gave up trying to stay unimpressed about the entire evening: You simply had to let out a laugh.

“Oh, Tadashi,” you sighed as you shook your head slowly, though not completely without adoration.

Yeah, you were both in it for the long run. And if you had known this sort of thing would happen, you still would’ve chosen him to be with. After all, if this kept up, your lives would be truly full before you knew it.

Dewey Finn

Statistically speaking, Staten Island is the cheapest borough to live in. However, New York is still New York. Meaning that you two are the very image that comes to mind when someone thinks about a young couple trying to make it work: The apartment is small; the walls aren’t paper-thin per se, but let’s just say you’d made cardboard club houses from sturdier stock; the quality of certain utilities isn’t exactly stellar, either, given that it was the best the two of you could afford; and you were both in positions that didn’t normally pay especially well in terms of making six figures.

And yet you both were pretty satisfied with the living situation.

Sure, moving your stuff in together was like playing life-size Tetris (with the added “bonus” of having to pick and choose what would be moved into storage and what you’d have to just give away). But after you got into the groove of things, it seemed to pale in comparison to the lives you’d begun to develop as a cohabiting couple.

For one, this was the first time in a long while where Dewey had actually lived in a clean/livable living space. Maybe not pristine, but there had been an established regimen of sorts: Dishes would be cleaned (even if begrudgingly) amongst the two of you; trash was taken out instead of left to grow into a mountain of pizza boxes and soda bottles and whatnot; and for the first time since he’d left his ma’s house, the mattress lay upon an actual box spring rather than a bunch of milk crates filled with records.

Completing the picture of the young struggling pre-famous by way of Dewey becoming a rock god couple was the assortment of Struggle Meals™ that had become a part of your day-to-day lives. Sure, you tried to eat healthy, but let’s be real: Cooking can be such a pain in the ass. It took a while, but you eventually had to agree for the betterment of your budgets to limit eating out to the weekends every other weekend. Until then, weird salads and Chili Mac and crockpots full of “let’s see what happens when we throw all this stuff in because their best by dates are coming and we kinda need to not waste this shit” stew would have to hold you guys over.

And yet, it wasn’t all bad.

There would be nights when Dewey would be on a song-writing kick up until one or chord would stump him, or nights where you’d have to bring paperwork home and you would begin to contemplate the consequences of just flinging it out the window. In moments like those, you were one anothers’ biggest cheerleaders.

You would continue to be one of the only people that could get Dewey to take a break, insisting that maybe going on a walk might help or maybe he can stop for a moment and just join you for a couple rounds of Mario Kart. And he would fix you up your favorite tea or, in turn, insist that you take a break before you slammed your face into the wall. It rarely actually mattered what one did for the other in that specific moment because no matter what it was, it was all the other needed to get over that roadblock.

And then there were those quiet moments . . . Dewey was never a quiet person, never really was into the quiet. But when you two moved in together, he sort of had to learn to respect those for your sake. And even though it was (and still can be) a bit of a struggle . . . you make it so much easier for him. Just by linking your hands together or running your fingers through his hair while you read. Or by rubbing his shoulders while you lounge behind him on the couch while he messes around with a lesson plan . . .

All in all, in some awkward yet beautiful way, you’re making in work. You try to take turns and share responsibilities, you both go and work your butts off to keep the lights on in this World’s Most Expensive Animal Cracker Box you call in apartment. It’s far from easy. But there’s just this massive feeling of satisfaction that hits the both of you when you come home after a long day of work, collapse on the couch, glance at each other with the most exhausted faces and go, “Wow, you look like shit.” Punctuated with a kiss, of course.

(Hey, it’s a Staten Island love story.)

Diana Prince

It all just sort of happened, really. There wasn’t any actual intention of you two living together-- at least, not at first. It had actually just started off with you coming over to Diana’s place just to house-sit whenever she had to go on a mission or even back home (after all, who better to watch her home than her beloved). Of course, this didn’t occur too often at first: She’d mostly retired from the vigilante life by the time you two had established anything. But once Bruce gathered up the Metahumans for a common cause, Diana’s need for you to come by became more frequent. So of course that meant you stayed over more often -- which, of course, meant you would have to make yourself right at home.

When Diana found an article of your clothing mixed in with her own laundry, though, that was when it occurred to her that perhaps it might be more beneficial for you to just stay there. Without the whole going back to your place bit.

You never pushed for it before: After all, for as loving as she was, Diana was still a woman who needed her space, given her history. You felt honored enough that she deemed you worthy of sharing her secret with, you weren’t about to apply more pressure to her by demanding that she let you move in.

Thankfully, no regrets were had.

You felt such childish glee in the moments when you’d wake up and see your gorgeous girlfriend in the kitchen, boiling coffee -- you were actually a little embarrassed at first. But given that Diana was never one to hide her feelings, it didn’t take long for you to realize that she actually felt the exact same: With you around more frequently, the apartment felt far less lonely. Far more warm and welcoming.

It wasn’t just filled with "her" stuff because now it had "your" stuff -- as in things that belonged to the both of you now. And sure, it might've been just little things like desk plants or jello molds or gimmicky little mugs, but it didn't matter to her-- they were yours. Together. Like an actual unit!

There were discussions of comfort zones to avoid as many clashes as possible; you communicated with one another about what idiosyncrasies were and weren’t going to be potential problems and how to possibly combat those.

It wasn’t always perfect, of course, but neither of you would have traded it for anything after you became accustomed to your new living situation.

But the very best moments were when she’d come home after being gone with the League. Tired, sometimes even still in costume, she’d trudge into the apartment, right into the bedroom, before collapsing on the bed next to you. Even if the feeling of your Amazonian girlfriend crashing down didn’t wake you, the exhausted yet relieved sigh she’d release most definitely would. And every time that happened, the first thing you’d feel wouldn’t be irritation at being woken up: It would be excitement.

She’s home! you would cheer on the inside, even if your tired body wouldn’t portray as much excitement as you would try to sit upright to greet her.

“Welcome home,” you smiled every time, voice husky with sleep. And she would smile back. Tired, yes, but always with so much love.

“Hello, beloved,” she would greet. “How was your day?” She would ask this every time. And she would listen, no matter what you responded with.

It was a good life.

Cassian Andor

You fought in a war, you survived a deadly mission that turned the tide for the war, the war ended . . . Now what? You buy a home together.

Oh, if only it were so simple.

Neither you nor Cassian really had much of an idea of where to move to for starters. Sure, you talked a big game about the places you wanted to travel to and see for yourselves, but vacations seemed far more within reach than a milestone like moving in together. At one point, you humored the possibility of just traveling around to those places you’d marked and just settle down in one of them, but they were hardly places you could see yourselves actually living in.

But in the end, you picked Takodana: Lush, green, neutral. Cassian was admittedly hesitant at the idea of settling on neutral territory: To him, that would’ve been just as bad as going somewhere where they didn’t care that a war was happening. But you insisted upon it, voicing how perhaps the influence of a quiet life might rub off on him. Plus, it was hard for him to argue with how calm and quiet it all was. An adjustment from the bustle and yells of a rebel base as he had literally grown used to, but not an entirely unpleasant one.

He never knew that crickets could sound so soothing.

Really, the adjustment of moving in together came from the fact that it wasn’t moving into a small section of living quarters sanctioned by an army: It was an entire home, just for the two of you (and K2), surrounded by forests and near enough to civilization while still being far enough away to assure privacy.

It felt weird to Cassian, who’d spent virtually his entire life living with the opposite: Constantly surrounded by people, constantly surrounded by dust, near enough to others while simultaneously being . . . alone.

Only he wasn’t alone: He was alone with you. And that’s what made all the difference for him. Sure, he wasn’t going to entirely give up his insistence on investing in protective measures. And just because it was your home, didn’t mean you were allowed to slack off on the order of the pantry or how fabrics like towels were folded, as though you were tossing away years of mandated regimen.

But so long as he has you, his link to regaining his sense of self? Who Cassian Jeron Andor is without the war? He’s pretty sure he can make that leap and start his next mission: Starting a family together.

Clark Kent

You two liked to joke that it was done in order to better brave the ridiculous Metropolis housing market. Which wasn’t far from the truth, actually. But the reality clearly had more to do with the fact that moving in together, after being a couple for so long, just felt like the right thing to do. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the most mystical or romantic of reasons, but why complicate things? This was already a relationship composed of the Kryptonian alien who caused a calamity and the woman who helped to try and kill him for it.

The beautiful thing about your new living situation was that it was a unique blend of the mundane and the strange. Unique: You were living with Superman which meant that after a point, it became somewhat necessary for you to know how to clean his suit and cape in the event he couldn’t be home to do it himself. Mundane: Clark liked taking care of you, and that meant sometimes you woke up to breakfast in bed or came home to find that he’d run you a nice, hot bath.

Unique: Dusting and vacuuming high corners and hard-to-reach places was a thing of the past since Clark could easily lift the heaviest of furniture, lift you up himself, or even fly up to perform the task. Mundane: On some evenings, you two could just end the day by relaxing on the couch, you lying on your back as Clark rested his head on your tummy so that you had access to play with his curls. Unique and mundane: You now had the option of completing grocery bag trips in one go. It wasn’t advised due to the whole issue of discretion, but, like, at least the possibility was now there.

Mundanely unique: His fast metabolism meant that your fridge, freezer, and cabinets were stocked to the bring with snacks of all kinds. Uniquely mundane: Clark snored a bit in his sleep and as much as you loved him, no amount of love could make snoring cute.

But compared to everything else, you’d take it in a heartbeat. You never imagined yourself having a life quite like this, to say the least. But now you could never imagine yourself having anything different.

[marvel-and-mischief]

His Saving Grace Part VII

Title: His Saving Grace - Maxwell Lord x F!Reader Words: 3600 Warnings: conversation about feelings, reader talks about her dark thoughts in the past, kissing, detailed description of a panic attack Synopsis: You meet with Diana to discuss Maxwell’s options.

His Saving Grace Masterpost

The Smithsonian looked a lot different in the day, the imposing building loomed over you as you walked up the front steps. You knew it wasn’t the museum that was making you nervous, but the job you had to do and the woman you had to meet. 

Maybe you should have ran the idea by Maxwell first, but a part of you knew he would be hesitant. After what you had seen on the night of the gala, Maxwell had been uncomfortable in Diana’s presence, and Diana was confrontational when she walked over to him. They obviously weren’t friends. 

But it was literally your job to get Maxwell back into the workplace, and if this didn’t work, and you didn’t manage to convince him that it was the ideal solution, then you didn’t know what you were going to do. 

You asked for Diana Prince at the information desk and was told by the man at the desk where she worked, pointing in the general direction of a staircase (you think) before answering a ringing telephone and dismissing you.

Trying to find your way to the Anthropology Department without a helpful staff member, or a map, was confusing and you ended up walking back on yourself more than a few times but you got to Diana’s office eventually. 

You were about to knock when the door flung open, Diana pausing just before bumping into you, a look of confusion on her face as she tried to remember where she’d seen you before.

“Diana isn’t it? I’m Maxwell’s friend, we met at the gala,” you said casually and stuck out your hand towards her, reminding her of your name. She took it after a moment, shaking your hand and politely laughing. If she was wary of you being at her place of work she didn’t let on, instead she ushered you into her office and offered you a cold coffee which you gladly took.

“Look, I don’t know what Maxwell has told you but as long as he stays out of trouble, he will never hear from me again.” 

Diana sat on one end of a velvety soft, maroon loveseat and you took a seat on the other end. 

“Actually, I’m hoping that won’t be true,” you began, cradling your cold coffee on your lap, “you must have some idea that Maxwell is struggling. Black Gold is bust and it will never recover. No one will hire Maxwell Lord, for obvious reasons.”

“I don’t see how I can help him. I sympathise, but Maxwell is reaping the repercussions of what he sowed. You can understand why no one wants to help him,” Diana spoke to you gently, offering you a sympathetic smile. 

You sighed as you looked around her office, a poster of human evolution, an old wind instrument that reminded you of the recorder you were taught to play at school, a long piece of parchment paper with what you could only guess were hieroglyphics or something similar. And on the wall next to where you sat was a diagram of a stone of some sort. 

“Maxwell got his stone from here, right?”

Diana nodded but said no more.

“A Dreamstone?”

“Whatever Maxwell has told you, it needs to stay a secret.”

“Diana, the whole world saw him use it.”

“The world saw a madman,” at your look of offence Diana shook her head, “I’m telling you what everybody saw, not who he actually is. And that is my point.”

You weren’t going to get into an argument with Diana about the Maxwell you knew, not right now anyway, so you bit your tongue.

“But he has ties to this place.”

Diana thought for a moment, starting to understand that you weren’t going to give up easily. She slowly nodded, eyeing you curiously and weighed up how much she should say about what had gone down with Maxwell and the Dreamstone.

“Maxwell only has ties to the Smithsonian because he wanted the stone. He befriended a gemologist, Barbara Minerva, to get to it. He succeeded and then he became the stone. And I presume you know the rest.”

It took you a second to realise that Diana had said “he became the stone” but you filed it to the back of your mind for another time. Or maybe you would never bring it up. If you wanted Maxwell to get passed this part of his life, you would have to stop asking questions eventually. 

“So let me get this straight, because he was the Maxwell Lord he could just walk into this place and take what he wanted?”

“Well, he was very persuasive. Plus he gave a lot of money to the department as a bribe.”

“So he’s given money to the museum before?” The cogs were starting to turn in your head as you realised it could work in Maxwell’s favor if he’s already shown support for the Smithsonian.

Diana tilted her head as she watched you, trying to work out what you were planning. She was clever enough to realise almost instantly.

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that Maxwell work here?”

“I am! He’s already proven his loyalty to the museum through a donation I assume was considerable. I’m sure it helped the museum a lot.”

Diana hesitantly nodded, knowing the money was much larger than any benefactor had given to the museum in years. She sighed in frustration and stood, walking over to her desk to rifle through a pile of papers. You placed your forgotten coffee on the table and followed. 

“I know he can’t work in any of these departments. But he has a business degree, he’s got the experience. He’s someone the museum would jump at the chance to have work here.”

Diana laughed cynically.

“You said yourself, nobody will hire him, what makes you think we will?”

“I said no one will hire Maxwell Lord. But what about Maxwell Lorenzano?”

Diana looked up from her papers and gave you a quizzical look.

“He wants a fresh start and I think I can persuade him to leave the Lord name behind.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering if you were overstepping. Maxwell had said to you at the diner that he wanted to be more like his old self, maybe this was the way forward? 

It wasn’t unlike you, as a lawyer, to be persuasive to get the results you wanted, the results you thought were best for your clients. But Maxwell wasn’t a client, not in your heart. He was your friend, and hopefully more in the future. Were you being too pushy, putting out the idea of him changing back to his birth name? Even though he’d suggested that very thing to you at the diner? 

You were starting to realise why it was frowned upon to begin relationships with clients, it made everything so complicated, it had you second guessing everything you were saying and doing whilst working for them. Because it wasn’t about getting results for the pay check at the end of the job, it was about getting results for the man you loved. It was about wanting the best for him, wanting him to be pleased with you and everything you were doing for him. 

“Are you okay?” Diana’s voice jolted you out of your spiralling thoughts and had you laughing awkwardly.

“I’m fine,” your smile didn’t quite meet your eyes, but you cleared your throat as you pointed to the papers she was looking through, silently asking her to explain.

“There was a list of job vacancies the boss sent around to everybody on Friday, it was here somewhere… a-ha!” Diana produced the single piece of paper with titles and one-sentence job descriptions on it.

“Is there anything appropriate for Maxwell?” You asked hopefully, going on tip toes to try and peep over the paper. Diana shook her head as she read down the page, coming to a stop right at the bottom.

“Although…”

“What is it?” You asked, a little too forcefully. Too impatient to wait a moment longer you snatched the piece of paper from Diana’s fingers and skimmed through the titles until you saw the very last one.

“Do you think-“

“It’s perfect,” you shot Diana a beaming smile, “will you-“

“I’ll let the boss know I have the perfect guy for the job.”

-

Maxwell nervously shuffled from foot to foot outside your apartment door, holding a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands, similar to the ones you wore on your dress the night of the gala. His polo shirt felt too tight on him all of a sudden, and he wasn’t sure if he should button all four buttons or leave it at two. 

The issue wasn’t that he had never been to your apartment before, or even that he was visiting unannounced, but entering into a new relationship. With you.

He loved you. He realised that at the gala when he watched you charming potential clients, giving away business cards until you had ran out of them, it had filled him with such a sense of pride that you had walked in on his arm. It wasn’t a slow realisation either. It was when he was seeing people notice you, laugh with you, agree with your advice, and then he thought yes, see this brilliant woman who can make your dreams come true? I love her. 

It didn’t scare Maxwell, quite the opposite. He was excited. Because you both worked so well together already. It was all so natural, the way you joked with him over lunch, or grabbed his hand in the middle of conversation. And the kissing.

Maxwell hadn’t kissed anyone the way he’d kissed you in… forever. It was a kiss that lit a burning flame in his heart, warm in every way but persistent and wouldn’t burn out until you reignited it with another. He felt the ghost of your lips on his, even in his dreams and he would wake up with a smile on his face, ready to start the new day in the hopes that he would see you soon. 

He felt young again, in a wide eyed, fresh faced kind of way. Like the world was his for the taking because he had you by his side to keep him grounded but also an encouraging voice in his ear telling him he could do anything if he just believed in himself. 

Maxwell wished he’d met you so much sooner. Before the seed of the Dreamstone had been planted in his mind and he’d gone on his reign of self destruction. He thinks you would have been able to stop him, to persuade him that he had everything he needed already. You could have helped him through the financial difficulties of Black Gold. You would have saved him. 

Maxwell shook his head of that thought and readjusted his collar. He couldn’t change the past. He could only look to the future.

He knocked on the door, realising he probably should have called before coming over. You might be working, or have friends over, or not be in at all-

The door flew open and you appeared, holding a wooden spoon in your hand and wearing an apron tied at the front covered in what looked and smelled like cocoa powder.

“Maxwell? What’re you doing here?” You asked, surprised to see him at your door.

“I should have called ahead, I apologise-“

“Don’t be silly. How many times have I come over to yours without warning? Come in,” you pointed towards the living room with your spoon and closed the door behind you. 

Maxwell let you lead him into the open plan area. It was smaller than Maxwell’s apartment but the layout was almost the same. The furnishings however were trying to be less impressive, more rustic with dark, wooden furniture instead of brightly colored plastic. It was comfortable and had a homely feel to it that Maxwell didn’t realise he liked until now. There were papers strewn across the coffee table, bookshelves actually filled with books unlike his own, dozens of blankets laid across the top of the couch, coffee stains on side tables. It was a perfect mix of your head and your heart. Smart and kind. Hard working but also relaxed. 

You went into the kitchen area, pulling open the oven and the smell of freshly baked chocolate cookies filled the air. Maxwell’s stomach rumbled but luckily you were too busy to hear. It was then that Maxwell remembered the flowers in his hand.

“I brought you flowers,” Maxwell placed them on top of the island, perching on a stool.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you picked them up and went searching for a vase in the cupboards. You found a decanter with a thick neck and decided that would be sufficient, filling it with water from the tap and placing the flowers inside to display on the countertop.

“I wanted to talk to you about some things,” Maxwell cleared his throat and interlocked his hands together on top of the island, “about my future.”

“Yes,” you nodded, taking a seat on a stool opposite Maxwell, “I think I have a plan, the next step, maybe even permanently if you agree to it.”

“Can we talk about us first?”

You froze in your spot, ready with your speech that would sell your plan to him, but you could see he had come over for a reason and decided to let him talk first. 

“I said I wanted to take things slow, and I still do. But I need things to be clear, out in the open so you know where I stand,” as much as Maxwell was nervous he kept eye contact with you, “I love you. I’m falling in love with you. These last couple of months have opened my eyes to how lonely and alone I am. And I’m not using that as an excuse for what I did but if I am going to succeed in being a good father, a good man, then I need you by my side. I think the world of you and everything you’ve done for me and I promise to try and make it up to you in any way I can.”

Your smile grew the more Maxwell talked, hearing everything you’d hoped he would say. You were on the same page, wanted the same things. Maxwell patiently waited for you to respond, even though the butterflies in his stomach were threatening to painfully burst out of him.

“Maxwell Lorenzano, I love you too.” You laughed, tears welling in your eyes, your chest full of happiness that things were looking up for the both of you. 

You wiped at your eyes with the bottom of the apron you were still wearing, then placed both your hands over the top of his.

“You say I’ve helped you but you have no idea how much you’ve helped me too. I was at the bottom of a very dark pit of self hatred before I met you. And although I was getting better, I don’t know what would have happened in my life if you hadn’t called me that day. I’m not sure if I believe in fate or destiny or anything like that but I believe we met each other at the perfect moment so we could help each other through the worst time of our lives. And if we can pull each other out of that then we can do anything together.”

Maxwell’s watery smile grew as he stood from his stool and walked around the island to stand next to you. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, before placing another on the tip of your nose that had you giggling. You stood and used the sudden closeness to press a bold kiss to his lips, hands running through his hair as his hands came to naturally place themselves in the dip of your waist.

Maxwell pulled away to place small kisses to the corner of your mouth, tasting the remnants of the chocolate mixture you must have tasted whilst baking your cookies. When he got to your jaw he felt your hands on his shoulders gently pushing him away, an apologetic look in your eyes.

“I still need to talk to you about the plan I’ve put together.”

Maxwell groaned, keeping a hold of your waist as he playfully tickled the soft skin of your neck with his nose.

“Maxwell…” you chuckled, enjoying this playful side of Maxwell.

“You’re ruining the fun,” Maxwell removed his head from your neck and pouted. You tried to take him seriously but he looked like a grumpy child who had been told ‘no more sweets’. You kissed him sweetly on the cheek and motioned towards the couch in the living room. 

His sigh was overly exaggerated as he took a seat on the couch. You had taken off your apron in the kitchen and sat next to Maxwell with a yellow sweater on, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. In amongst the rustic aesthetic of the living room, you looked like actual sunshine to Maxwell. 

“I tried to find you a job that I thought you’d like, that wouldn’t necessarily be easy but would use your previous skills and still challenge you.”

You took a piece of paper from the side table and handed it to Maxwell. It detailed a job description, the kinds of jobs he’d be taking on and with what departments, and the key skills he would be using. Maxwell nodded the whole way through until he spotted where he would be working.

“The Smithsonian?” He asked, unsure and a little take aback that this would be the place you’d choose considering his connections to the place. 

“Yes, it was much easier to find you a job at a place you’d already given a sizeable donation to,” you explained gently, you ran your fingernails along the lines in the palm of your hand, a nervous habit as you tried to gauge Maxwell’s reaction. 

“I don’t know,” Maxwell re-read over the job description, which he was comfortable with, the annual salary that was more than enough to look after himself and Alistair, the job title ‘Financial Manager’ was more than suitable for his qualifications, everything was perfect, except the place of work. He would run into Diana probably, and was Barbara still working there? That would be awkward. That place held bad memories, Maxwell was trying to move away from his past not shoot head first towards it. 

“Look, you would mostly be working in the offices away from other departments, Diana said-“

“You spoke to Diana?” Of course you had, how would this job be practically given to him without so much as an interview without Diana’s help? Maxwell eyed you suspiciously, wondering how much she’d told you about the incident, how much you’d told her about Maxwell’s situation. He trusted you, he loved you, there was no love without trust but he suddenly felt like the walls of your apartment were closing in on him and the piece of paper in his hand was shaking as though an earthquake was ripping through the building.

“Maxwell?” He heard your voice but it was so far away, where had you gone? It was like listening to someone shouting from the other end of a tunnel, had you left him? Maxwell’s eyes were closed tightly shut so he couldn’t see where you’d gone but he felt something soft and warm on either side of his face, and then his face was being pressed into something fluffy, it felt like how your sweater looked, was it you? 

Your voice was getting clearer and his breathing was slowing down though he didn’t remember breathing so fast, why was he struggling to breathe? 

Your hands, he could feel them now, moving over his shoulders, along his back, up and down his upper arms and the fog was slowly lifting from his mind, from his lungs, and there were tears falling from his eyes. And all he could hear were your apologies and his name leaving your lips. Your sweet lips that felt so good against his own, they were touching his ear as you spoke soothing words, he concentrated on that and then everything was clear. 

He cautiously pulled away from you, just enough to see you looking at him full of concern. Maxwell placed his large hand against your cheek and guided you to press your foreheads together as he continued to breathe through the panic attack. 

“I’m so sorry Maxwell,” you whispered but Maxwell shushed you softly, stroking your cheek, your hair, your neck until he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you into a hug.

“You are perfect and have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you close until he believed you were truly there and not a hallucination created out of his panic stricken mind, “it just all suddenly felt very real. I think I’m scared.”

He felt you nod against his chest, your hand was running up and down his side, soothing him, comforting him in any way that you could. You were nearly lying on top of him; Maxwell had leaned you both backwards, his head resting on the corner of the couch as he tried to relax and prevent another panic attack.

“I’m here. You don’t have to do any of this on your own. Or at all, I’ll call Diana and tell her the job isn’t suited to you. We’ll find something else.”

“No,” that made you look up from his chest, searching his eyes for what he meant, “it’s the kind of job I’d be good at. I just have to remember that I’m not alone.”

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, holding each other close, but by the time you tried the cookies they were cold. 

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @galactic-rhi @phoenixhalliwell @thewayofthemandalorian @computeringturtle @lesbianlena @shikin83 

[mrs-daddyissues]

considerably

~ C H A P T E R   2 ~

~ Masterlist ~

Pairing: Alfred Pennyworth x OFC

Series Summary: Sarabi Nichols is Bruce Wayne’s life long friend that aids in creating weaponry and making outfits. When she was younger she had a thing for Bruce but now her taste has aged. Considerably. Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce’s guardian and butler is more her style now. Despite this knew found liking, Sarabi feels trapped. She can’t talk to Bruce about it and clearly can’t mention it to Alfred. The only person she has is her best friend, Claudia. Sarabi has to fight the things she feels for the older man because he could never feel the same way back, right?

{Normal} Playlist

{Slowed+Reverb} Playlist

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1426

Author’s Note:

This part should be much more interesting but be warned, this story is kind of a slow burn *evil laughter*. It is a bit slow but the pay off will be worth it. I promise.

Sarabi awoke to find herself wrapped in the warm embrace of her bed. The black and gold covers engulfed her body as soft morning light poured through the sheer window curtains. Sarabi was still dressed in her clothes from the night before. Sarabi couldn’t remember how she got here, the only thing she could think of was the massive headache she had.

She arose from her slumber and planned to go find some Advil when something on her bedside table caught her eye. It was a bottle of Advil, a glass of water and a note written in elegant handwriting.

For that headache, Miss Nichols.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Sarabi grumbled as she gulped down the tablets quickly. She smiled softly at the note knowing from how she was addressed and the handwriting that the British gentleman left it for her. That was Alfred’s best quality, his gentlemanly persona that he carried for anybody he met. ‘How sweet of him’ Sarabi thought to herself before rising from the comfort of her bed.

She dragged her feet towards the walk-in wardrobe to look for an outfit. While she was gone, Bruce had bought even more clothes for her as it seemed. She picked up a new baby pink sports bra, matching shorts and didn’t even bother with shoes. 

After taming her hair as well, she trudged down the large Wayne Manor stairs and into the kitchen. As she neared the kitchen, her nose picked up the most delectable smell. She turned the corner, chasing the smell and ran straight into Alfred’s chest. She let out a surprised yelp as she felt her feet slipping. With effortless grace, Alfred wrapped his arms around her and stopped her fall. He pulled her back up against his chest as Sarabi’s heart raced. Her heart wasn’t pounding just because of the near fall but because of how his light brown eyes stared into her’s behind his glasses. 

Though it was only a few seconds it felt like an eternity. Sarabi could feel her body relax but also tense simultaneously. She felt good. She felt at peace but her heart still fluttered. Her stomach did a small somersault that she barely picked up on. The things she was feeling confused her. Was she just jittery because of the near fall? Or was it something more? Sarabi shook the thoughts from her head and hoped that Alfred couldn’t sense the change in her demeanour. 

“Miss Nichols, are you alright?” Alfred asked concerned as he slowly let go of her body. Sarabi felt a sort of melancholic cloud drift over her as his arms slipped from hers. This feeling scared Sarabi most of all. 

“Yes, Alfred, thank you. I could smell your cooking and came running,” Sarabi hoped her joke would ease the tension and it worked. Alfred let out a small chuckle before moving to the side so she could walk to the bench. 

“So, should I take it as a compliment that you ran right into me?” Alfred queried as he pulled out one of the bench stools for her. 

“Most definitely,” Sarabi sat down as Alfred started dishing up her bacon and eggs. 

“Ah, Master Wayne, how did you sleep?” Alfred delicately placed Sarabi’s plate on the bench before dishing up another for Bruce who had just walked in. 

“Like shit, I mean crap,” Bruce corrected himself as Alfred stared him down. Bruce took a seat next to Sarabi and devoured his food. 

“Where is Claudia?” Sarabi inquired, looking around for her bestie and partner in crime.

“Miss Flynn awoke very early and went back to her apartment for work as it is a Monday,” Alfred answered, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Oh okay. Wait, how in the hell did I end up in my bed?” Sarabi asked Bruce but from his bugged-out eyes, she knew he had no idea. Bruce had never been a good liar, well, at least to her.

“I have no clue, Sarbi,” Bruce stole a quick glance at Alfred that Sarabi noticed. She looked over at Alfred and his face remained stoic. Sarabi saw a glint in his eyes as his orbs locked with hers.

“Alfred? Did you?” Sarabi questioned as Alfred cleaned up the dishes. Sarabi wondered how Alfred could manage but she guessed it was possible. He was skinny but still well built from his years as an SAS soldier. He was strong but lean.

“Yes, Miss Nichols, I did. I hope you don’t mind. If you do then I apologise,” Alfred sincerely stated and Sarabi smiled.

“No that’s completely fine, thank you. I’m surprised you managed to carry my ass up those stairs,” Sarabi snickered as she stood up with Bruce.

“I am full of surprises, Miss Nichols,” Alfred quipped as he continued washing up. 

Sarabi’s voice caught in her throat so she slowly staggered out of the kitchen. She gulped in air as confusion filled her veins. Sarabi had no idea why these things were happening to her body. She had no idea why Alfred, of all people, was having an effect on her.

Sure, he was handsome in a classic sort of way and definitely would’ve been hot in his prime time. He also had a hypnotic voice. If Alfred talked about Wall Street statistics she’d be invested. Sarabi would not deny that Alfred had a lot going for him. He was attractive, charming, gentlemanly and kind but he was also about 45 years her senior. That in itself is wrong on so many levels but still, her body and heart felt something. Sarabi couldn’t put a finger on what it was but decided it was a mixture of fatigue and the headache that still lightly pounding through her head. 

“Sarbi, you alright?” Bruce placed a strong hand on her small shoulder, noticing her thoughtful but confused face. 

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Sarabi shook the puzzled look on her face and smiled. Sarabi couldn’t speak to Bruce about this and felt that even Claudia wouldn’t understand. Claudia made jokes about Alfred being grandad hot and so forth but never had a thing for him. Plus, she was much more interested in Bruce and Diana Prince. Claudia was a classic bisexual, having no idea whom she found more attractive. ‘Bruce’s got the abs and money but Diana’s got the face and body of an angel’ she would always rant to Sarabi. One day she preferred Bruce then the next day it was Diana. Claudia had no idea of Bruce’s or Diana’s secret identities as Batman or Wonder Woman but she knew their maskless personas well. So well that she had battles over which one she could sleep with first. Sarabi had tried to tell Claudia that neither would be interested but she still tried.

“Ready to get back to work?” Bruce suggested and Sarabi patted him on the back.

“I’m actually excited to see what shit you got yourself while I was gone,” Sarabi slapped Bruce on the arm as the two made their way to the infamous Bat Cave. 

“What am I working on today?” Sarabi curiously asked as she walked towards her working desk still kept in prime condition. Alfred was a clean freak and clearly kept her desk scrubbed and spotless. 

“Gauntlets that absorb and dissipate energy, my own idea,” Bruce smugly showed off.

“Actually, Miss Prince’s idea. She’s had those gauntlets of her’s before she was born,” Alfred answered as he stepped out of the lift.

“And Wonder Woman’s gauntlets are there to minimise and weaken her powers. Talk about a real superhero with real superpowers,” Sarabi teased as she sat down at her desk.

“Watch your mouth, Sarabi before you lose your job,” Bruce warned with a wag of his finger.

“You know you love me,” Sarabi blew a kiss in Bruce’s direction as he stalked off to train or do paperwork, it was either of the two.

“Good one, Miss Nichols. I do remember Diana reminding me of how her gauntlets lessen her powers,” Alfred sat down beside her and pulled off the cloth covering the gauntlet idea.

“Here it is or at least the idea,” Alfred corrected himself as they both stared at the drawings.

“Shall we get to work?” Sarabi turned her head to Alfred and instantly regretted it. His stunning brown eyes caught her attention and sucked out all her sensibility. There was another stomach backflip before she snapped out of it.

“Most definitely, Miss Nichols,” Alfred shuffled closer to her and the two worked tirelessly on the idea Bruce swears he came up with.

<<CHAPTER 1<<  ~ ~ ~  >>CHAPTER 3>>

[okimargarvez]

PENDING ISSUES

Original title: Questioni in sospeso.

Prompt: Penelope is forced to change team.

Warning: none.

Genre: drama, family, romantic.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, BAU team, O.C.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 53 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏😘🔦🎈.

Song mentioned: Quando ritornerai, Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

PENDING ISSUESS  

She can't believe it, but there is no room for any uncertainty, no doubt. The e-mail, with a lot of official virtual "stamps", seems to make fun of her with all those high-sounding and cold words. But... but it could be a joke of some technician colleague.

The blonde woman moves away from the screen, as if it possessed an evil spirit, had a life of its own. Almost. She starts browsing her phone contacts, discarding them one by one. In the end, she decides to open the door and head towards Prentiss's office. She doesn’t have time to knock that her friend, as well as chief of the unit, is already there, standing with a pained look. Penelope then understands how sadly real it all is.

-Garcia...- says the brunette, inviting her to come in with a wave of her hand. The blonde drops into the chair on the other side of the desk.

-So that's true. They are really doing it, as with JJ eight years ago.- she only says, with a resigned and not too depressed tone, not how much anyone would have expected from one who hates (hate to say the least) changes.

Emily takes a moment before nodding, only in the eyes can one sense the anger at the helplessness she is forced to bear despite her high position, which she also detested so many times, precisely because of the decisions she was forced to make... and now she can't even use it to prevent the team from losing an important piece of their chessboard, so that the family doesn't loses the glue that holds them together. -Penelope, I'm sorry, I tried to do everything, but...- the friend shows her that there is no need to justify herself, she already knows.

-How long have you known?- she asks her rather, sensing, despite her naivety that it is part of her charm, far more than Prentiss would like.

-A week.- she admits, in a guilty tone, lowering her eyes for a moment to a stack of papers on her desk. The most prominent cases. Cases that she won't be able to solve, Penelope thinks, sighing.

An awkward silence follows, something that between the two women hadn’t happened since the time of the attempted murder of the brunette.

-We have to tell others.- it is the latter who breaks it. For the first time, the informatic technician seems really shaken by the news. She shakes her head, vehemently denying, silently protesting with those dark yet strangely unclear eyes. -I know, I understand what you're thinking. But they have the right to know, don't you think?- turned this way, the question is different; the friend can only agree. They stand up almost in sync, Garcia waits for the one with the highest position to come out first. Prentiss overlooks the balcony and immediately meets Rossi's eyes. -Guys, we need to talk.- she announces gravely. JJ can't help staring at her two best friends, passing from one to the other all the time. It is clear to everyone that their IT has something to do with it, but how specifically, how much does it involve them personally, this cannot yet be said. -Meeting room in five minutes.- the woman turns, placing a hand on Penelope's shoulder and the two start to walk, turning their backs to the others. They don’t therefore notice how each one quickly abandons their activity, saving documents, putting the cap on the pen and hurrying to reach them. The last to enter the round room is Matt, less than a minute later.

-We are all here.- says Rossi with a warm and calm voice. -Talk.- he takes matters into his own hands, because he understands that Emily is in trouble. She has the same look as when they unjustly arrested Reid.

-There is no painless way to say it.- she begins, making them fear the worst. -Garcia, Penelope- she corrects herself -will be transferred to another unit next week.- six mouths open up almost simultaneously. Then, six pairs of eyes rest on the shapely blonde, who can't stand all those looks and feels faint. She tightens her wrist, planting her nails in the flesh, without the others being able to notice it. It was a method she had discovered to manage anxiety when panic seized her after Battle had shot her. She hadn't used it for a while, since the last anniversary.

A few seconds of silence, full of disbelief. Then a storm of questions is unleashes, more or less all together; overlapping words, different voices all united by the same pained tone.

-How?- JJ. She already has tears that press at the corners of the eyes to get out. Penelope sees her again, in a kind of deformed flashback, while she tells her for the first time that she considers her as part of her family, shortly after having shot the killer policeman; while they are accessing the CIA's encrypted files and fails to take possession of Prince William's phone number; as she walks, beautiful in her mother's white dress, heading for Will, on the lawn of Rossi's house.

-Why?- Spencer. The youngest of the team, immediately looking for a reason, a motivation, which however was not there. Or rather, it was there, but it was certainly not the one he wanted to hear. Penelope remembers perfectly the day he entered her office, bringing her a brioche as a gift and she declared her eternal platonic love; or that time he made a dollar appear from behind her ear, astonishing her almost more than Henry and Jack; and again his look of gratitude when she had shot a false nurse, Baylor, and when he had got out of the elevator, after he had risked becoming the three hundredth and last victim of the Believers, despite the past years.

-When?- Tara. The psychologist and university professor with whom she had been in love at first sight (as with Kate). How forgetting the enthusiasm with which she had received her arrival and the joy she had felt when Hotch had confirmed that the research was completed, there was no need to conduct other interviews; or when she had given her that carrot, which she had decided to keep and not to eat.

-Where?- Matt. That man as intelligent as he is charming and likeable. Penelope revisits various moments in a disorderly way: the phone call in a panic when the team had not responded to her numerous calls and the car ride to the accident; the friendly malice when he asked her if she had a tattoo and where; finally the sweet sensation of tranquility when they danced together at the wedding of Krystall and the older agent.

-Who?- Rossi. He himself, who has always detested the bureaucracy, wonders who the culprit is, who is behind what he perceives as a real crime against the whole unit. Losing Garcia would be as if the team's heart were rudely torn off. The young blonde remembers perfectly how the Italian-American treated her in the beginning, and feels something stirring at the thought of how he is now a real father to her, and he even told this to her.

Only one remains silent, quiet, doesn’t open his mouth. But his eyes are screaming, his eyes are the only one that really pierces her. Luke. Oh, Luke. Thinking of him as agent Alvez would be much more convenient, because when he becomes Luke, he makes her think of Roxy, the kitten-shaped anti-stress that he gave her, his jokes and provocations, the way he had kissed her on the cheek before hugging her, or he had taken her hand in Bradenton, or he had stolen her remote-control, he had consoled her in court, in front of the SUV with the body of Walker, he had involved her in the gift for Phil. Phil... No, better think of him as Alvez.

Emily leaves them a few seconds to recover, so she begins to answer their questions as much as possible. -It's a direct order from the Director.- she explains. -It hasn’t yet been specified the destination, in fact, in all likelihood they will come to take her directly from here and we will never know.- even worse than what had happened with JJ. Who was there at the time, catches the connection and winces. -There is not a how, nor a why. Or, like the rest, we cannot know it.- the brunette crosses her arms, considering the matter closed. There is really nothing else to add.

Everyone seems to understand it, yet, they each struggle to control themselves. A familiar sound awakens them from the trance they had fell into. Garcia grabs the phone and reads the message. -There is a case.- she says, trying to sound normal, but she just can't.

Everyone thinks the same thing. Their last case with her.

* When, will you come back? Tell me when, will I can see you...

It is a case that doesn’t require the use of the jet, fortunately. So, they can take care of it by staying close to the base. They work sitting around the round table, like the time they were been awake all night to find a proof that had exonerated Spencer and allowed them to simultaneously save Diana.

The atmosphere is tense, Penelope feels eyes on her about every ten minutes, but ignores everything to concentrate on her work. She rejects the thought that this time it's really over, that it won't be just for two weeks, like with that witch (Barnes). Her fingers beating on the keyboard mark the thoughts of many of her colleagues. They all speak less than usual; they only open their mouths when they have something concrete to say.

On the second day Prentiss is forced to separate from them for other "pending issues", so she defines them. Bureaucracy, surely. She locks herself in her office. Rossi and Dr. Lewis have already drawn the right conclusions; perhaps the others too, but one just can't get it. That's why, when he leaves the room after hours to go to the toilet, Agent Alvez is stunned to stare at a line of people, mostly women, mostly blondes, queuing outside the office of the chief of the BAU. When another woman, who looks like a clone of the others, comes out, without knowing how, he manages to precede the next one and slip inside.

-Luke!- Emily exclaims, in truth not too surprised. She doesn't even ask him what he does there. She waits patiently for the outburst.

-Who are all these girls?- he begins to ask, but inside he already has the answer, he just needs to have the courage to take it out. -Are you replacing Garcia while she's still here with us?- here it is, as she imagined. Indignation, anger, disbelief and disappointment.

Prentiss gives him a particularly maternal and understanding look. -There is no replacement worthy of Garcia, Luke.- he nods, immediately agreed. -But life goes on unfortunately. It doesn't matter who dies, or who goes away. How important it is.- the woman just shudders. -The leaders want a name by Friday. Someone else will have to find the addresses of the unknown subjects.- she tries a joke, but with little conviction.

The man remains silent. He's trying to get over it. But he can't do it.

-Alvez, listen to me well, because I will say it only once: don’t behave with the person who will take the place of Penelope...- seeing his shocked gaze, she hastens to add: -…yes, it is so, however bad it sounds. I've replaced Hotch, you've replaced Morgan, and someone will replace Garcia. Not in our hearts, it is obvious.- another nod of assent. -But professionally, it's so. So, I repeat, don’t do to this person, who has no fault, what Garcia did to you. Don't make her feel in the wrong place. Penelope did it as self-defense, to protect herself, and she didn't last long.- a slight smile grazes the lips of the Latin. -I have my doubts about how it would work with you.-

 ** When, will you be with me? Tell me when, tell me if... inside you, I also live a little, or not...

They solved the case, but the week is not over. Theoretically, there are still two days. Garcia made the decision, perhaps a bit selfish, but justified, to shut herself up in her bunker, to breathe a little. She knows that the attentions of her colleagues are irrefutable proof of their affection, but... but they are suffocating her. They make it all that much more difficult.

The worst thing is not go away. But staying and seeing the others disappear, she thinks, shaking her head, struggling with herself.

She jolts when she hears a knock on the door, the outer one, but she recovers quickly. -Forward, human.- she says aloud, while the first of the two armored doors closes behind her. -Speak and reveal your identity.- she stills to type words and codes and doesn’t divert attention from the main screen. But from the sound of footsteps she understands that it is a man. Ankle boots. She restricts the search to two subjects. Simmons or Alvez.

A large hand rests on her backrest. Then a voice, strangely weak. -Garcia...- she so surprised that she stops for a moment, but doesn’t turn to look at him. An awkward silence follows, which forces her to say something, any bullshit is better than that deafening nothingness.

-Luke? If you need some information I warn you that I am already off duty...- it sounds like one of her usual jokes, but lacks intensity. -Although I could make an exception, if it's just a small thing...- she can see him evaluate her words and move to the left, leaning on her desk, like Derek did.

The man takes a breath, clears his throat, procrastinates in every possible way. -Yes, well, I wanted to talk to you about... your transfer.- this time Penelope takes her hands away from the keyboard and can't avoid showing a hint of fear. Of all the subjects she could face and seem calm, indifferent, he went right to hit that. The woman holds her breath until her head begins to turn.

-Huh.- she strives to avoid at least looking into his eyes, convinced that he would be able to read them inside everything. Indeed, she is sure of this. Practically from the beginning, since they met and did this not push her to curl up like a hedgehog more?

He opens his mouth without saying anything, spreads his arms. -Is there anything you can do to avoid it?- he asks, finally. It could have been much worse. She sighs with relief, a little too noticeable. Luke watches her for a moment, finally deciding not to venture too much.

-Of course, I could hack the system and create a thousand slowdowns...- she replies, immediately lighting a smile on his lips. -I could go on like this for months, but they'd find out right away, who's behind it, I mean- once again she escapes his gaze -and in the end, I'd still have to go away.- her tone is a little too tough, but it is the only way left to save herself. -So I don't think it's worth it.- she folds her arms, waiting for his reply.

-But it's not fair.- it's the big phrase that comes out of him. The man feels stupid, but it is certainly not the first time that this happens when he is with her. -They can't treat us this way.- she merely stares at him, doesn't go to him in any way, doesn't make it easier for him. -Do they know that we are not just a group of people working together? We are a family and...- he hesitates for a moment, perhaps realizing that it is the first time he has said it aloud, even if he thought of it often and especially when Barnes tried to make him say something to discredit his colleagues and he realized how much he was willing to fight for the team -and we need each other-- he spits it out in the end, surprising her positively. Even if she would have preferred the opposite.

-Alvez, really, I appreciate your interest, but... it has already been decided.- she feels the need to release his anxiety in some way. -Nothing can be done to change things.- if he doesn’t leave by himself in a hurry, she will be forced to throw him out with badly manners. She knows perfectly the movement that runs through her belly, she knows what the consequences will be.

-It's not possible, I refuse to accept it.- but Luke behaves incredibly stubbornly. -How can they not realize that without you the percentage of cases solved will be reduced?- this time she doesn’t resist, she bursts into laughter with some bitter nuance, given by the inability to believe in the veracity of his words, which for a while she eliminates the risk of collapsing in front of him and ruining everything.

-Don't you think you're exaggerating now?- she realizes that her lips have folded into a grimace similar to the one he made when she called him "Newbie" or treated him "badly”. -Of course, I'm good, but...- he interrupts her. For him it is not conceivable that there is a but after such a statement.

-You are more than good, you said it yourself, no?- he blushes slightly, remembering that day, not long ago, in fact, that he had expressed his appreciation for her abilities, without hiding behind a joke , this time; and the way she had answered. Dios, it shouldn't be legal to flirt so subtly. -You're great.- Penelope is silent, barely closing her mouth, always red, always inviting. -And in any case, we have seen in those two weeks in which it seemed that the BAU was destined to disappear and also in those days when you were in San Francisco...- he begins to argue, as a perfect lawyer. His father would be proud of him.

-I'm sure anyone who chooses Prentiss will be worthy of occupying my place.- the woman replies, taunting herself. -And that you all  will make it through this.- he nods, but gets a little closer to her chair, perhaps not quite consciously.

-But managing it and running like a train, they are two different things.- the man is not intentioned to give up. It tilts slightly downwards, always unaware, under the terrified look of her.

-What is it, Luke, why do you care so much?- she decides to go straight to the point. She will not be able to get rid of him with the good ways, now it is clear. -Did something happen?- she hopes to turn the matter around him, his problems, anything to keep him away from her.

Luke opens his mouth, considering whether to say directly the first thing that went through his head. -You ask me why I care?- it sounds like a question, but it really isn't. His tongue passes over the teeth. -I told you, we are a family and... no one will ever be at your level.- it's not all what he wanted to tell her, but one step at a time, something is better than nothing.

At least he gets a smile not too much felt, certainly not comparable to her true smiles full of joy, like the one when she had seen Roxy for the first time, when he had shown her his gift... -Thank you, I'm flattered.- it sounds so... fake. -But now, if you allow me, I need to finish this job.- actually they are just paperwork that she could complete even from her house, because they will take away her access tomorrow. -I don't want to leave anything... unfinished.- he further reduces the distances and stares her with such intensity as to paralyze her. Leaving it, you will still leave something unfinished. You will leave this story in abeyance, what is between us, it will remain forever undefined, we will never know how it could have gone. You're not just abandoning the unit, you're letting go of your family, the people who love you... me.

But, of course, he doesn't say anything of what's on his mind.  -Ok.- almost neutral tone. -Even if I can't understand how you can have took it so well...- he chooses to be magnanimous. It's late, Roxy is waiting for him, maybe a midnight walk will help him clear his head. -... good night.- he whispers in a slightly sweeter tone, wishing to place a kiss on her hair, or even on her cheek, he could be satisfied with it.

-Night.- she echoes him, and as soon as he is out, she bursts into tears, overwhelmed by the wave of pain that has done nothing but go up and down her body since she received that damn e-mail.

 *** Tell me about you, when you are alone at night and you never sleep...

She didn't even try to sleep. She knew it would be completely useless, she would "wake up" the next morning (or a few hours later, because when she went under the covers the first lights were already visible) with a terrible headache, more tired than she had just stayed up late, as she had actually done.

She preferred to try to take her mind off, reading a book, one of those that usually obliged her to finish it, no matter that she had other commitments, that she should go to work or eat. It worked, but only briefly.

Here, she is parking her Esther for the last time, pressing the elevator button and go down to the fourth floor. She caresses every detail with her eyes, every fragment that manages to capture about those places where she experienced so many different emotions...

She came very early, to avoid meeting the others. She knows it is a cowardly, unjust thing, but she just can't make it to greet them, to live a moment like that. No, she would burst into tears, flood the bullpen. Better to avoid. Better this way. They will forgive her, perhaps, a day not very close.

She crosses the desks area, deserted; she observes them one by one, recognizing the owner of each with affection. She tries hard not to dwell too much on the one with dog statuettes, her gifts, of course. She sighs and continues down the stairs to Prentiss' office. She is the only one already present. She opens the door without knocking.

-Are you already here?- asks the other woman, but she has already understood everything. Damn profilers. Why is it so easy to love them and fall in love with them?

-Yes, I... I'm sorry, Em', I can't do it.- she shrugs. -You know I hate goodbyes. Will you explain it to the others?- the brunette just nods, not particularly convinced. When Penelope comes out, she understands the reason.

They are all there, standing, waiting for her. She feels a hand caress her shoulder. She turns to Emily, who smiles slightly. Together they go down and join the rest of the team. No one talks for a few minutes, then the hugs begin. JJ, sobbing, hugs her tightly, whispering -How could you think of leaving without saying goodbye?- but not demanding an answer. Tara waits for her turn, but is dragged into a female hug. Men observe in the background. The BAU women promise to remain friends and sisters, no matter what happens. And they know that they really mean it.

So, after at least fifteen minutes of giggles, interspersed with tears and anecdotes, they leave her free. And the first one she meets is Spencer, the man who didn't love hugs. He has changed his mind, deeply. They don't exchange a single word, because they don't need it. They have always been kindred souls. They remain hugged for a long time, it seems that there are no other people besides them. To the point that someone starts to feel far more than a pinch of jealousy, and doubts and uncertainties resurface.

When, finally, with the enormous joy of that someone, they separate, it is the latecomer that welcomes her in his arms. Theirs is a patently friendly and fraternal gesture, there is no room for ambiguity, not even trying to strive. Matt strokes her hair and feels her trembling. For this reason, he holds her a little longer.

Then it's Rossi's turn. Not even when Morgan left, he felt all this pain. Because he knew it was the best choice, he didn't want Hank to grow up as Joy, without a father, and as bad as it was, it was pretty easy to accept. But not this time. No, it was all so wrong. -Kitten, oh, kitten...- he sighs, almost in a rattle that suddenly reveals his age.

Only one remains. Why does she always end up putting him last? It is so obvious that he feels as the fifth wheel on the wagon. Fortunately, he doesn’t know that she is used to keeping the best, especially when it comes to food, but also to reading, lastly, to be able to do it... to enjoy it better. In fact, she tries to avoid everything, knowing that she is just fooled herself. Luke drags her in a hug that can be defined with a single adjective: tragic. After a second of stiffness, Penelope abandons herself to his grip and deflates like a balloon, pouring all the tears on him, that she was able to hold back up to that point. It was his fault. His hand that caresses her back so delicately, like her mother did when she was little. And the heat emanating from his body. Its natural scent, which also reminds her of Roxy. And then simply because it's Luke. Luke, and not Alvez. For his part, the man rocks her as if she were a child, making her sway more or less like when they danced slow at Rossi's wedding. In his head he confesses everything. In his head he pleads with her, on his knees, tearing his hair as in Greek tragedies, to not go, because he can't live without her. He wouldn’t even have joined the BAU if he hadn't known a colorfully dressed computer technician, terribly sexy in body and spirit.

It is the sound of a cell phone to revive them. The others would never have had the courage to separate them. What was between them, of whatever specific form it was, was so obvious. Emily pulls out her cell phone and sighs. Everyone knows what it means.

There is a case.

This time they won't have Garcia's abilities at their service.

The woman breaks away from him (and it hurts, without the almost, it hurts her body) and looks at her family one last time. She starts to walk towards the elevator, but they follow her and stay there, staring at her, until the doors close and lead her away, away from her family.

 **** When will you return, when? Or will you always be away?

The months pass, so fast and anonymous that, if he stops to think about it, it's almost scary. Garcia is regularly in touch with them, at least once a week, especially through the chat she herself created on WhatsApp. Of course, it is not the same thing, but again, it is better than nothing.

This is what Luke repeats every morning to force himself to get out of bed, he, who had always been an early riser, super active even at dawn. Roxy tries to console him, but this time not even her can help him.

He finds himself more and more frequently re-reading her messages. He caresses the words with his fingertips, smiling with melancholy sweetness. He doesn’t allow himself to think of a single thing: that he misses her (here, he has just done it). He tries to settle for something, but it's hard.

Everything loses its importance when he sees her (it is she, she has no doubts, his heart has recognized her first than his eyes) walking in the park, in flesh and bone, not a fucking message, even a vowel or a short call. He heads towards her feeling like being reborn. It's Sunday, there are no cases to solve. He smiles, just before she notices his presence.

-Hello.- he says, containing himself slightly. She looks at him strangely.

-Hello.- she repeats. The man notices with pleasure that she is wearing one of her floral-themed clothes. He feared that in the new place (whatever it was, since she could not say anything, extra top secret mission) they had forced her to completely change appearance, to homologate her to the mass. Not that he wouldn't find her beautiful, this never.

-How are you?- he asks her. The woman understands that he is really interested in her answer.

-Pretty good.- she seems sincere, the man thinks. -And you?- she doesn’t give him time to reply. -Few days ago I met Lisa and... she told me that you two are no longer together.- silence. -Since six months.- she doesn’t mask in any way the accusatory and disappointed tone. Does she believe that others know it?

-Yes.- he shrugs. -It’s happened.- Penelope opens her beautiful brown eyes and glares at him. -I'm fine, really. Did she tell you it was a common decision?- they start walking again, a little too far for Luke's taste.

-Something like that.- she grants to him.

-Do you want to take a cup of tea with me?- he asks her, even to force her to stop mulling over his relationship with Lisa. She nods. In truth, she accepts only for get real information about the girl who replaced her. The man keeps the door open, making her passing first and enjoying a certain view accordingly. He is able just to avoid helping her sit down. If they had been in a restaurant though, he would surely have done it. They order and he doesn't notice at all the attempts of approach of the waitress, a beautiful curly woman. His former colleague is convinced that it is because he is still in love with Lisa.

As soon as they are alone, she throws herself away. -Then, let's not talk around it. How is she?- but he plays the role of the naive, a part that he does very well.

-How is who?- he asks, frowning.

Penelope shakes her head and sighs, annoyed. -How is the new girl.- she precises.

-Oh.- a shadow passes into his eyes. -You mean Sophie.- Sophie, repeats the woman in her head. Even the name sounds sweet and nice. Luke understands that he won't get away easily. He should say everything. -Well, she is very young, I think she is about the age of Spencer.- he starts to explain. -She graduated in computer science at MIT.- that is, like her, if she hadn't given up everything after her parents died. -It is very organized, precise... nice.- still not enough. She wants more. -Smart.- he adds then. Of course, Emily wouldn't have chosen any unprepared.

-Well.- she sounds like a demanding professor who expects more details to give 30/30 and laudation. -I'm happy for you.- the curly maid comes back, who serves them, almost pouring the contents of Penelope's cup on the table, as too intent on staring her partner. But it is only a dilation, a temporary suspension. -And then?- she asks him, in fact, almost malignant and pleased to put him in difficulty.

-Then what?- she doesn’t understand if he is really so stupid.

-How she is... aesthetically, I mean.- she gestures, pointing herself. It is destined to end badly, there is nothing to do. Needless to oppose fate. -Physically.- she adds.

-Oh.- another embarrassed pause. -She is blonde.- to this adjective, he suddenly starts to giggle, without a sensible reason. Penelope doesn’t catch the fun side. -High. Thin.- ok, this is too much. True, she asked it, but...

-Fantastic.- she comments. She stands up and risks to overturn the entire table. -Now... I have to go.- he grabs her quick hand like an iguana's tongue when sees a prey to catch. What a beautiful image that came to his mind.

-But we haven’t yet drunk our tea.- he says, quietly, rationally. Perhaps he thinks that this is enough to keep her here, to make her hear the praise of Sophie, blonde, thin, tall, smart... She is behaving like an idiot, even if only in her head.

-It doesn't matter, some other time then.- she instead replies, with a sad and resentful tone.

But he doesn't let her go. -Penelope.- he never calls her by name. He manages to capture her attention.

-What?- she snorts, falling back into her chair. The patrons who followed the entire scene as if they were shooting a famous Argentine soap opera, immediately stop, pretending to be very busy.

Luke is still holding her hand, but he has moved to cover her fingers. -Sophie is smart, nice, pretty, but it's nothing comparable to you.- he declares with tone and above all an intense look. That look. She slips her hand from his.

She stares at the amber liquid in front of her, almost hoping to see the answer to her problems inside. -Uh, I appreciate the attempt, but you've always been a bad liar.- the man bangs his fist on the table. Give to this cup of tea a medal, it has survived more attempts than those to assassinate the president of the United States in any VHS action movie.

-It's not a lie, I'm serious.- the man insists, trying to catch her eyes; but she doesn’t grant him. She is not so stupid as not to know how it would end. -She can’t fill the void you left.- he continues undaunted. -She will never replace you.- does he not understand that every sentence of it is like a stabbed in her stomach? Why is he not silent? -It’s clear?- he asks her instead, suddenly being hard.

-Yes, clear.- she teases him and it's a good feeling. He was no longer used to it. -But now I really have to go...- she stands up and leaves him alone, shaking his head; actually in the company of Abraham Lincoln.

 ***** When will you return? Just tell me if, only if, if you're still just here...

It's ironic. It has been another three months since he last met her, that she only let him in that bar, and he had a thousand reasons to do what he is only now finally accomplishing. And yet, it was enough to talk about the thing with someone totally foreign to the story. Sophie, dear Sophie. Prentiss was naturally right. It wouldn't have been right to blame her. No, not really. Also, because she helped him. Without her, not as good as Garcia, but... in short, without her he wouldn't be here.

He wouldn’t be able to spy on the woman he is in love with while she is working, she exchanges a few words with her colleagues, she looks for a second her phone and smiles. Perhaps another wouldn’t have been able to observe her so comfortably, but he was a former hunter of men. This was his bread and butter. He missed that thrill.

So different with those normal clothes, from mere mortals, exactly as she had imagined, but always she, always sexy. Sometimes the content of a book is so strong that it doesn't matter which cover it represents. She looks like a manager, her hair straight and without frills, her wardrobe completely gray. Better than beige, he thinks, smiling. Even the glasses are dark, black, though. Above all he observes the way she interacts with colleagues, how her smiles are forced and fake. She seems so fragile and lost, like a fish out of water. He stays in his post so long as his back is in pain.

But it's worth it and every pain vanishes when he finally sees her come out of that door, immersed in a multitude of anonymous people. Even in this costume she stands out like a butterfly in the midst of moths. He leaves his hiding place and walks to meet her. -Garcia.- hearing her name, she jolts, bringing a hand to her chest.

But she has recognized the voice. -Alvez, you made me take an heart attack.- she reproaches him with familiarity, immediately putting him at ease. -What are you doing here?- what she doesn't ask instead is how the hell did he get here since her work place is a secret assignment.

But Luke looks different from last time. Stronger and more aware. Yes, really aware. She begins to tremble, and not just from the cold. -I came to surprise you.- he smiles, but it's not one of his good, sweet, tender smiles. -See, it's a bit 'that I don’t hear from you...- there is malice in his voice, malice of those who want something more than just having fun flirting.

But she tries to ignore it. -I have been very busy.- any sentence, the first one that came to her mind. It looks like it's out of a bad movie. -I'm not yet used to the rhythms of the office...- but she doesn't last long. At the end, she falls into those eyes. -Why do you look at me like that?- the man tries to contain himself, but it's too hard, a losing game.

-Nothing, just... you're so different that I almost don't recognize you.- so spontaneous, so devoid of filters. So damn Luke. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She's clever enough to hide the battle that's happening inside her. -Even!- she exclaims in a somewhat exaggerated and shrill tone. -I only wear ordinary mortal clothes.- just the same words he had used in his head. -So... how are you?- she only asks him to change the subject, and he understands it.

-Do you mean me or the team?- this time he's too smart, the right opposite of naive. She shrugs her shoulders.  -Both are pretty good, Sophie is integrating, but, you know...- he had to name her, yes, he just couldn't help it. Blonde, smart, skinny, MIT graduate...

She speaks to block the destructive flow of one's thoughts. -Yes, "she can’t replace me" and bla bla.- she sighs. She's tired, she hates this job, she really hates it, it's worse than the other to the cybercrime unit. Much worse. -Listen to me, Luke. I know she won't replace me, there's no need for you to insist.- a yawn escapes and she doesn't try to hold it. -As Rossi said once, there are many agents who have entered and left the team, and everyone has had their own identity, a role of their own.- this time it is she who looks him in the eye. -An own path.- and she manages to put him in difficulty.

-Yes, but...- she shakes her head.

-I'm tired.- she says then, since he really doesn't want to get there. -Tomorrow it will be another very heavy day.- silence. -If you came here for another reason, then, talk. Otherwise...- it sounds like the last warning before declaring two people husband and wife. But what damned thought is this? Luke inadvertently shakes his head to chase it away. If he begins to imagine Penelope in white dress, is over. -...I would like you to let me go home.- she concludes.

Luke understands that he must jump in, now or never. -Penelope, you don't understand. I'm not here on behalf of the team, I'm not here because the pace of case resolution is slowed down, despite all of Sophie's efforts.- a selfish thrill of pleasure in hearing him say it. What kind of person has she become? She wasn't like that before. -I didn’t come here as a former colleague.- she focuses on his words, to forget what she feels.

-No?- she looks around. It is getting dark. The night falls quickly in this part of the city. Quick as a killer on his victim. -Then, I just don't get there.- the man nods, confusing her if possible more.

-I don't miss you just as a colleague.- he starts to talk freely. -I miss you as a person. I miss hearing your voice, your jokes, seeing your smile, meeting your eyes... I miss your presence at O'Keefe and... I miss you so much.- Penelope opens her eyes, mentally listens again to what he has said, convincing herself that she has misinterpreted, then accepts it, but with some premises.

She approaches his face, but only to smell his breath. -Luke, did you drink before you got here?- she asks. -Are you sure you feel good?- she places a hand on his forehead, which is not warm. She's not teasing him, maybe; she really believes it.

-Yes, fuck, I'm fine, and no, I'm sober.- he bends over her, but with other intentions. - Do you need further proof to believe it?- her expression is like a yes. He doesn’t let her respond and gives her a short kiss. She doesn’t even have time to realize that it has happened, that it is already over.

But nothing, her fears are much stronger than he could imagine. -I think I understand what's going on, you're a little dazed because you haven't accepted the situation yet.- she explains in a perfectly reasonable tone, unable to eliminate the sensation of the man's lips on her body. She will never forget it. Oh, Luke, why did you do it? -It happened to me too with Derek.- he looks at her as if she had three heads, so he slaps his forehead, having to vent his frustration.

-According to you I would have kissed you just because I'm in the denial phase?- he tests her and she nods.

-Yup. I probably would have done it too, except that Morgan was married and that was the reason he had to leave...- he is almost tempted to silence her with another kiss, a little longer, a little longer and explicit. But he wants her to kiss him back the next time. He wants to feel her completely immersed in their gesture.

-Enough.- he exclaims with an authoritative tone, what he had when he was head of a team of recruits in the rangers. -Don't say another word. Did you come here by car?- he grabs her by the arm, not very gently.

-Yes, because...- without needing to say anything she understands and leads him to the car. Not even a second to take a breath, he pushes her in, but instead of the passenger. He sits behind the steering wheel and closes the doors. The car is not Esther, so she can't run away. It is one of those minivans that companies lately love to give to their employees.

He turns to her. -Penelope, I didn't kiss you because I'm confounded, crazy or unable to accept reality.- he allows her a moment to metabolize. -But simply because I'm in love with you, and if I can't have you in my workplace... I want at least have you in my life.- he has said, he has really said it. He is not so stupid as to believe he can find a way to bring her back to the BAU. But there is not only that way to see each other.

He sees from the way she looks at him that she is beginning to believe him. -Luke, you're not serious...- she's challenging him to deny. And he is in.

-You really need another demonstration...- he leans forward to grab her chin between two fingers and kisses her again, longer, then taking her hands to rest them on his chest, so she can feel the beat of his heart, while his hands hold her face. This time Penelope kisses him back, passing a new level, passing the baton to their tongues, until both of them are in oxygen debt.

-Did you come on foot?- she asks, and her whole attitude has changed. Luke nods. -Then I'll give you a ride to your house.- but she's sitting on the wrong side. He grabs her hand and places a kiss on the back of it. An ancient gesture that suits on him terribly.

He turns on the engine, but after a few miles he breaks the silence, which in this case is not due to embarrassment, as in the previous ones. -What are you thinking, honey?- a nickname is enough to make her vibrate like a jackhammer. She can now stop denying having wanted to hear it from the first time he called her chica.

She tells him the truth, instead of censoring herself like she would have done less than five minutes ago. -I still can't believe that you... It seems absurd to me.- she is not talking at all about only the physical aspect, and the man understands it perfectly. It is as if, after kissing her, her mind was cleared. Now he sees everything with such lucidity.

-There is nothing absurd.- he places his hand on the gearbox to down shift from third gear to the second and after a few moments feels a sweet weight. -You are a wonderful person and I am sure that your new colleagues have already noticed.- she accepts the compliment, but doesn’t want to talk about work.

-I don’t know. It is very different from the BAU...- how could it not be? She feels stupid for having expressed such a foolish thought. But the way he looks at her, as soon as they find themselves at a busy intersection, it reassures her that he doesn't think it at all.

-I know, baby- a new nickname, it sounds so different from those coming out of Derek's mouth -but you don't have to feel alone. You will always be part of the team and you can come to the evenings at O'Keefe... as my girlfriend.- he blushes to the tips of his ears, but he is satisfied with himself as never before.

-Luke Alvez, are you really asking me that?- it is at this point that the man understands how it is necessary to go to phase two (or three). He puts the arrow and approaches a clearing lit by a single lamppost. She watches him, his every move, trying to figure out what he wants to do. He gets out, slams the driver door, goes around, opens the passenger door and gets her down too. Then he sits down, taking her in his arms, intertwining their legs and starting to kiss her again from the point where they were interrupted. At one point, Penelope opens her eyes and leaves his mouth. A loud pop is heard. -Oh, Luke, I feel something solid, and I don't think it's the gearbox.- yes, from her position it would be a little impossible.

He nods, staring at her intensely. She lets herself melt, she doesn’t oppose. -Yes. Now do you believe it?- because there is something presses against her thigh, it's a bit hard to ignore it or consider it as her hallucination.

-I think I do.- she throws all the air out and a little cloud forms between their faces. -It's a good thing that this is a company machine, otherwise you would have already laid me on the back seats, right?- it's a joke, but she is also profoundly serious. The mix between candor and malice is decidedly explosive and it is only thanks to twelve years of Catholic school if Luke doesn’t concretize the words of his girlfriend.

-Touché.- he says, moving back to his seat. The rest of the journey continues in silence. When they see the apartment building where his apartment is located, they both feel their heart skip a beat. He parks, she goes down, but not to take his place. He grabs the keys and sets the alarm on, blocking all the doors, including the trunk. She accompanies him to the door. This gesture, which usually belongs to males, excites him even more. He smears her against the jamb, but the handle planted in her back prevents her from letting go completely. -Are you sure you don't want to stay?- he asks her between kisses. Penelope is really tempted. A little more pressure in the right places...

-Mmm, no, I really can't, there's Sergio alone and then...- a spark in her eyes -on the first date you shouldn't even kiss your pretender, you don't know?- he catches all the hints and bends the face in a pout childish.

-Then, I have to give you the good night.- he sighs, but instead of bending down to catch her lips, he opens the door. -Listen, Roxy, how disappointed she is...- the dog is actually staring at her as if asking her what she is doing there, outside, in the doorway.

-You are a bastard, Alvez.- and so they enter the house. Roxy searches her, as if she hasn't seen her for a year (well, almost). And when the dog finishes, the owner starts again, precisely from his gray blouse.

-I always wanted you to wear one to remove it...- he whispers in her ear. Here, everything has its positive sides, she is able to think. -If you want me to stop, as hard as it is, literally hard, if you understand what I mean... I'll do it.- ruined, with these last words Penelope is ruined. -If you don't feel ready...- she grabs him by the neck and overturn the situation.

-What the hell.- now he too is bare-chested. -But remind you that tomorrow I have to get up early.- the echo of Luke's laughter accompanies her up to the moment before sleep catches her. How peacefully you can rest, when nothing is pending.

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[catherinequeenie-benstridge]

What if - Chapter 2

SECOND CHAPTER!! Thanks to everyone who read and shared it!!

So....who's that mysterious man who talked to Catherine at the museum? Ready to find out? 😏

HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!

💙👑

3rd of June of 2005

It was raining, as usual in London. That day Kate didn’t work in the morning so she decided to lend her car to Pippa because she needed it, that was why she used the underground to go to the Gallery. The brunette walked out of Charing Cross station and opened her umbrella, when she walked through the main entrance, she saw the same jacket and cap from two days ago. She couldn’t go find him because she had a group in ten minutes, but Kate would be looking for him.

After what felt like ages, she finished with the tour and let the students walk around. Kate stood in a corner when she saw the man from the other day and decided to talk to him. He was standing in front of one of the last portraits of Lady Diana, by Mario Testino.

-She was beyond gorgeous.-The brunette’s head tilt a little. He didn’t say anything.-I have always admire her.-The man just stood still, without making any noise. After a minute he walked to the next portrait.-Sorry to bother you.-She said walking away and standing where she could see her group.

Kate couldn’t help but keep watching him; going portrait by portrait, he ended up nearly next to her but facing oposite directions. 

-You didn’t bother, sorry for being an idiot. I got too deep into my thoughts.-He had his hands in his pockets, as usual. Kate felt the same way as the first time, as she had already talked to him before. She smiled softly.

-It’s okay, I get like that too when I’m in a museum.-They stood in silence for a moment, It wasn’t as uncomfortable as it should be for two strangers.-I was thinking, isn’t it a bit unfair that you know my name but I don’t know yours?-He smiled at her and move to be in front of her to shook her hand.

-Steve.

-Very pleased to meet you.-Said Kate while taking his hand.

-I was wonde…-

-Excuse me ma’am, I had a question about a portrait-One of the kids of her group interrupted Steve, pointing at one of the portraits. The woman turned to the eleven year old.

-Yes, I’ll be there in a minute.-Kate wanted to say goodbye to Steve but when she turned around he was already gone, all she could do was watch him leave. The rest of the day was quite boring for Kate. She was grabbing her things to go home already when the man in charge of her department came to her. 

-Miss. Middleton, do you have a moment please?

-Yes, of course, what’s the matter?

-Well, I just received a phone call from Sandy Nairne…-Kate’s body froze when she heard the director’s name.-He told me that a member of the royal family will become patron of the museum and will open a new collection. They asked me to find an expert about photography, because that will be the main subject of the collection and will also contain a few things about the camera’s history. Well the thing is that, I believe you could be that expert.-The brunette stood still, thinking if that was some sort of prank.-Would you do it? 

-I...Uhm...Yes, of course, I…

-No need to say that this is still confidential. I will tell you the member’s name eventually but for safety I can’t do it yet.

-Yes, I understand. Don’t worry.-Kate was very excited internally, she wanted to scream and jump all over the place. When her boss was about to walk away he turned around one more time. 

-I can only give you a clue, It’ll be at the end of this month.-With that he finally walked away and left Kate there. The young woman quickly grabbed her things and went straight home. She didn't want to find Pippa yet because her sister would notice her excitement and would worm it out of her. 

Kate got home earlier that day and luckily Pips wasn't there yet, she fixed herself a quick dinner and went straight to her bedroom, switching on the little TV she had there while listening the rain through the window. She was going through the TV channels when she saw on the BBC News that they were talking about the royal family, specifically about the upcoming 23rd birthday of Prince William.

Catherine smiled about that and the first thing that came to her mind was Steve. She always got this strange feeling everytime he appeared next to her at the museum, she wished they could get in touch any other way. Suddenly her thoughts were stopped by her phone ringing, It was an unknown number so she thought about not picking up. FInally she did.

-Yes?-A pause was made until a familiar voice finally talked.

-Hello, Catherine.-The brunette’s mouth opened wide.

-Steve? How...how did you…?

-Well, a man has his contacts.-He let out a little laugh.-I bet you had no idea but I’ve met your boss a couple of times, I just had to ask some people and they gave me your number.

Kate was smiling widely. Yes, she felt that strange feeling and chemistry but she never thought he was feeling it to...because to ask for her number...he had to feel something, right?

-I, well then, hi...I don’t...I don’t really know what to say.-She started giggling and feeling like a 15 year old girl who’s crush is talking to her.

-It’s okay I, I just wanted to keep in touch with you. I won’t be able to go to the museum for some days so, If I can’t see you, at least I have your number to hear your voice.

In the center of London, the so-called Steve was walking in his room, a little nervous but confident at the same time. He had no idea why he asked for her number, he felt like he needed to hear her voice again, but with his contacts he didn’t want her to think he was some kind of pervert.

-Catherine, I, If you are uncomfortable with this, you can tell me. I know I should have ask you directly, I was planning to today but you had more important things to do and people to guide.-He started playing with a pan he found on his desk.

-Don’t worry, It’s okay.-She made a little pause, placing some of her hair behind her ear.-I like you did, even if It seems a little…

-Pervert?-He cut her.

-Hey, I didn’t say that, okay? You did.-She let out a smile that, even though he couldn’t see it, it made him smile as well. 

-I just want you to be okay with this, with us talking.

Kate was biting her lip thinking whether or not she should ask what was crossing her mind at the moment. “What the...If not now, when?”

-Hey, I wanted to ask, you know it’s okay to keep doing this, talking through the phone and seeing each other at the museum sometimes but…-There she went, she wasn’t being too fast, wasn’t she? Tho she couldn’t care less.-...would you like to go out sometime? For a drink or, to another museum…

There was a pause, a really long pause that made Kate really anxious and Steve too scared. What was he supposed to do? Suddenly a knock on the door saved him from having to answer.

-I’m sorry Catherine but I have to go, I will call you tomorrow or when I have some time, okay?

-Yes...yes of course, see you then.

-Bye.

Kate heard the beep that followed the hung up and started screaming, letting all the tension out of her body. 

-Why did you do it? Why did you have to be so stupid and ruin it?!-She fell on the bed.-UGH

______

-Hey son, can I talk to you?-A man, with gray hair and middle aged to old factions, came into the room.

-Yes, dad, what is it?

-I was just informed that you called Sandy Nairne to ask for a favour.-Steve started getting nervous.-To ask for a specific guide for the visit...A young woman named...Catherine Middleton?

-Yes, and?

-No, nothing I was just wondering why. But If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.-The man walked through the room and went to the door.-Just be careful, think before doing anything stupid.-And with that, he was gone.

The young man sat on an armchair and lean back, not knowing exactly what to do. He wanted to meet Catherine but then, he had to tell her the truth about who he was. And that terrified him. He grabbed his phone and typed a SMS, after five minutes of deleting and retyping, he pressed send, letting out a sigh.

In a Chelsea apartment, Kate’s phone rang just as she was walking out from the shower. It was an SMS from Steve. 

“Yes. The Crown, Covent Garden. Sun 7pm.”

The brunette almost screamed, she jumped in bed and got ready to sleep, not being able to stop smiling. She has never been this excited for anything in her life before.

👑💙

DID YOU LIKE IT? TELL ME ALL ABOUT IT!!!

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

[jannieka394]

~see you in my dreams~

Pairing: gilbert blythe x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, bad writing

Summary: you have a dream about a boy named gilbert blythe. You brush it off as just a dream. You and your parents are moving to avonlea where you soon become friends with Diana. On your first day of school you notice something. Gilbert blythe is there.

Notes:

•I'm dutch, so I'm very sorry if I make any mistakes. Feel free to send me a message to point out my mistakes!

•this is my first imagine ever! So if you have any writing tips for me I would be happy to hear them!

• diana barrys mother didn't seem to have a first name. At least, I couldn't find it, so I called her Claire.

Meanings:

▪ (y/n) = your name

▪ (l/n) = last name

▪ (h/t) = home town

▪ (m/n) = mothers name

▪ (d/n) = dads name

▪ (y/a) = your age

▪ (e/c) = eye colour

▪ (h/c) = hair colour 

[your pov]

* Dream*

i was at an unknown house, lying on the couch in front of the fireplace. but i wasn’t alone. i was lying in the arms of a boy. a name popped up in my head.

“Gilbert Blythe”

he was so handsome, the way he looked at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes. freckles dusted on the bridge of his nose and cheeks. i felt safe, loved. it all felt so real, i wanted to stay this way forever.

but then i woke up

*end of dream*

“(y/n) get up! our train leaves in an hour!” my mom called. we were moving from (h/t) to an Island in canada called prince edward Island. to a place called avonlea. i was so excited, yet nervous.

i quickly got dressed and ate breakfast with my parents. “aren't you excited (y/n)?” asked my dad. he and my mom waiting for my answer with huge grins on my faces. “very, i'm kinda scared though. what if the other kids don't like me?” “everything will be fine dear.” my mom said. “they'll adore you.” my dad added. after breakfast, we packed our last belongings and headed off.

*time skip*

we stepped on the train with our many suitcases. the wagons where very small, and so were the seats. luckily my parents offered me the window seat. this was going to be a long ride.

after the train arrived there stood a carrige waiting for us. it was mrs.Barry an old friend of my mother. “good day, (m/n), (f/n), (y/n).” “good day claire, thank you for being willing to ride us to our new home” said my mom. we put our suitcases in the back of the carridge and rode off.

after a short ride, we finally approached the house. it looked very cosy. and i couldn't wait to go inside. it was mainly made out of wood, and it looked quite new.

we thanked mrs.barry, and she told us that she'd come and visit with her husband and two daughters that very evening.

the house was just as cozy and beautiful from the inside as it was on the outside. but then i noticed something peculiar. there was a familiar couch in front of a fireplace in the living room.

they were from my dream.

all of a sudden a name and face popped up in my head again. it was that boy.   “Gilbert Blythe”

my parents showed me wich room would be mine. so i immediately started unpacking. i didn't have much belongings since we had to sell a lot of stuff to make the moving possible. so i finished unpacking rather quickly.

after all the unpacking was done. my mother came with the idea to go and purchase the stuff i needed for school, so i could start as soon as possible. we bought the books i needed, and a new slate. after buying everything me and my mom went to a café to drink some coffee. we also brought some cookies to celebrate our new home.

it was getting late, mother cooked diner, father was chopping some wood for the fireplace while i set the table. we got some potatoes, vegetables and chicken. we also talked about current events. when we finished eating i helped mother do the dishes.

there was a knock on the door. it were mr. and mrs. Barry with their two daughters. Minnie May and Diana. Diana looked about my age. a few years younger maybe. we drank tea and ate the cookies me and my mother got from the bakery. while Diana told me everything i needed to know about school, mr.Philips and the other students. we quickly became great friends. i'm glad me and Diana get along. now i know at least one person, and won't be completely alone at school. after some time, the Barrys left. and i headed to bed.

*next morning* 

i didn't sleep much last night. there's just so much going on. i'm also quite nervous for school. i fot dressed and did my hair. i ran downstairs and ate some breakfast with my mom, while my dad was still asleep. “are you nervous?” she asked. “i am. i'm still excited though. hopefully i'll make some new friends!” after we were done eating i grabbed my school supplies. my mom gave me the directions and i headed off. luckily we lived near the school, so it was only a 10 minute walk. the closer i got to the building the more nervous i became. “calm down (y/n). everything will be fine” i muttered to myself.

i opened the door just on time for the lesson. everyone was already in their seats, and they all stared at me. i looked around and spotted Diana. she was sitting next to another girl with red hair. but i also noticed someone else. Gilbert Blythe. i stared at him in shock as he stared back looking shocked and confused as well. “stop having a staring contest, take a seat and introduce yourself” mr.Philips barked. i sat next to a blonde girl who seemed to be staring at our teacher in an odd manner. “i'm (y/n) (l/n), i'm from (h/t) and i'm (y/a) years old.” i introduced myself and nervously sat back down in my seat.

time was going by rather slowly. and i couldn't pay attention to the actual lesson. i kept thinking about him. Gilbert Blythe, the boy from my dream. i glanced over to him and noticed he was already staring at me. with an expression of confusion and wonder? his hand mindlessly playing with the apple on his desk. i looked at him for a bit longer before returning my attention back to the lesson.

*time skip*

school was over and i was cleaning the chalkboard erasers because mr.Philips noticed my lack of attention in class. i was the only one in the room, untill i heard the door open. i expected it to be mr.Philips untill i heard a voice say “(y/n)?” i turned towards the person and it was him, Gilbert Blythe. “yes Gilbert?” i replied. he stared at me with the same expression as before. his mouth slightly agape as if trying to figure out what to say. “how do you know my name?” he asked. oh my god. what am i supposed to do now? i can't just tell him about the dream can i? “if i told you, you wouldn't believe me. and probably even think i'm crazy” i answered, nervously laughing. “try me”he said with a grin on his face.

[Gilberts pov]

i sat in class waiting for the lesson to start. untill someone came into the classroom. it was the girl who appeared in my dream a few nights ago. (y/n) even her name gives me butterflies. i stared at her in shock while she stared at me with a similar expression.

after the lesson ended i waited outside the school for everyone to leave.

after everyone left i went inside. and there she was, with her beautiful (e/c) eyes and her long (h/c) hair. “(y/n)?” i spoke out. she turned around to look at me. oh! those eyes! i can't help but get lost in them everytime i look at her. “yes gilbert?” she said in a soft voice wich sounded like music in my ears. then something hit me. how does she know my name? so i took a pause and finally asked her “how do you know my name?” she starts to giggle nervously. dear lord she's so cute. “if i told you, you wouldn't believe me. and probably even think i'm crazy” “try me” i said. smiling widely at her.

[your pov] 

i explained him everything. i couldn't read the expression he had on his face. i probably ruined everything. i waited nervously for him so say something. “i- i-” he stuttered “you don't have to say anything. i'm sorry for wasting your time.” i say as i tried to walk away. “i had the same dream” i stopped dead in my tracks. should i believe him? i mean, that would explain the similar shocked expression on his face earlier. “really?” “i know it sounds unbelievable. but yeah” he says. and for some reason, i believed him. i run up to him and pull him in a hug. his chin resting on my head. we were in a comfortable silence untill he spoke “do you think that the thing we had in our dream, could become reality?” i pulled away from the hug, still very close to him. his hands still on my waist. i answered almost in a whisper "maybe” with a happy and reassuring smile dancing on my lips. “can i walk you home then?” he asked. how can someone be so perfect. he's so kind. “it would be my pleasure” i said. and i meant it.

he walked me home while we talked about our hobbies, friends, family, good and bad times we've had in our lives. he also told me that he had a crush on me. and that he had liked me since the first time he saw me in our dream. i told him i felt the same way. when we arrived at my house i stood in the doorway, while we stared in each others eyes, once more in a comfortable silence. we got closer, and closer untill our lips touched. my heart started pounding loudly in my chest. his lips where so soft. the kiss deepened, while our lips moved perfectly in sync. my hands found themselves around his neck and his on my waist. when sadly, we had to break away for air. the both of us having the widest grins on our faces. “(y/n)! come inside dear! diner is almost ready!” my mom yelled from the kitchen. it was time for him to go home. he let go of me, and said before leaving.

“see you in my dreams”

~¤♡¤~

So I finally finished my first imagine! I can't help but say: I'm proud of myself. I really hope you guys like it!

[fyeahwonderbat]

IN THE MIDDLE OF A BROKEN CONSTELLATION - PT. 9

Pairing: WonderBat (Wonder Woman x Batman) Rating: T / 14A Universe: N/A - Reader’s Choice Previous Chapter: <- Chapter 8

Whenever Diana was behind the wheel of her car, she somehow felt just as powerful as when she wore her Amazonian girdle. There was something exciting to her about handling her Mercedes that nothing else in her centuries of life could compare to, not even her training mare on Themyscira. She had witnessed the rapid progression of the Industrial Age firsthand and that explosion of technological growth had led her to owning a 2018 Mercedes, cruising through the streets of Gotham City in the early morning, imagining what it would be like to race Clark or Barry with her sleek, modern, manufactured horsepower.

Despite her own godlike strength, Diana knew just how much she enjoyed being imbued with confidence by the lavish things she owned in life. She had worked for decades to afford her car and the wardrobe she owned, after all. Even though her closet hadn’t arrived with the rest of her furniture yesterday, she had stepped into Gotham’s Fashion District late last night and bought for herself a lovely Louis Vuitton ruffle and snap dress in black so that she could get away with wearing her favourite black heels again. It was a secret passion of hers - budgeting her money to spoil herself silly - but she definitely put her all into selecting her fashion the same way she would prepare for any battle.

The proper armour was vital when taking on the any challenge, after all.

That was the mindset she intended to carry into her first day of work at Wayne Tower as she drove into the underground parking lot. There were mostly cars with black and silver bodies filling every floor, but as luck would have it, she managed to find herself situated between a orange Toyota Corolla and a black Mustang with vertical red stripes on the seventh level. Her cherry red machine sat perfectly between them, she noted to herself as she parked, exited and locked her vehicle with a push of a button. The amount of cars already stationed in the lot made her feel as though she was late for her first day, encouraging her to walk as fast as she could without breaking into a sprint while making her way to the elevator.

Though she could have already assumed as much, it was important for her to take note that Wayne Enterprises was never empty and therefore, was likely never officially closed.

Her first day was set to begin at seven a.m., yet she was inside the parking lot’s elevator at six-thirty. It was a swift ride - impatient as the man who owned the building - and she was dropped off at the lobby in three blinks. As soon as the door opened, she was met with the same hustle and bustle she witnessed the day before, except she was expected to blend in with it now.

Diana was careful to follow the unintentional train that was headed towards the above ground elevators she rode in yesterday. There were people on their phones all around her, huddles of employees having what appeared to be incredibly serious conversations, and all she managed to do was keep pace with the heard that was trying to squeeze their way into a single elevator car. The only thing she could do was smile politely to the young girl that was pressed against her as they became incredibly acquainted while she made her way to the thirty fourth floor once again.

It felt never ending, which is why she was all too eager to jump out into the hallway once the elevator reached her stop. She straightened her dress and scurried to the board room she had been in yesterday morning, a bubble of hope rising in her heart that she’d see Bruce again, despite how unlikely that would be.

No, he wasn’t present this time, but it looked as if her entire new team was.

Diana skidded to a halt in the doorway of Board Room C and was genuinely shocked that nearly every seat around the table was taken. The smaller space somehow matched the energy of the busy lobby downstairs and she felt as if she had intruded on a moment of great debate. It was only when she dared to take one step beyond the door frame that she managed to catch Lucius’ attention from the head of the table across the room.

“Ah, Diana!” Now that she was hired, it seemed that she was being promoted to a first name basis. As he rose from his seat to come meet her with an outstretched hand, the twenty or so people that had been talking over one another grew silent and all turned to appraise her at once. She greeted them with the same smile she gave the woman on the elevator before reaching out to take Lucius’ hand. Careful to show respect, she answered him safely with, “Good morning, Mr. Fox.”

She was so happy that she made the call to use his last name, as he did not correct her and ask that she call him Lucius. Instead, he faced the board room and chose to introduce her to the staff himself. “This is our new Community Outreach Specialist, Miss Diana Prince.”

An older gentleman decided to ask a question instead of offering her a quick hello. He raised his hand but spoke before being called on. “Didn’t you fire our old one when he came in an hour ago?” Apparently the speed with which the position was filled was shocking.

Lucius chuckled and abandoned her side, returning to the head of the table at the other end of the room. “Yes, I did, and now we have someone else to fill the position. I know you’re a veteran employee but that’s how the hiring process works, Don.” The obvious tease garnered a few soft giggles from around the table, all while her new boss waved her over to his side. Diana sauntered over to her designated spot across the room, aware of how everyone’s eyes followed her, finding it to be rather invigorating rather than intimidating.

However, the wind was stolen from her chest when a massive stack of papers was instantly tossed towards her and she was forced to catch them so suddenly. Apparently, whatever the team was discussing meant that they were in a rush as Lucius was quick with his words. “Once you fill out the contract, I’m going to be sending you out to Gotham General for your first day, so do you have anything you want to say to the group before we resume?”

“Sure,” was her automatic response as she tried to digest how quickly her day was already moving. When Bruce warned her that she’d be thrown into the frey immediately, he wasn’t kidding. Despite the slight whiplash, she found herself rather excited to begin. The awaiting gazes that she faced showcased the entire team’s anticipation, and if she were honest with herself, she was filled with just as much suspense as they were to see how this new career of hers would pan out.

Unable to wait another second, she grinned and said, “Hello everyone. As Mr. Fox said, my name is Diana Prince and I am very excited to be working with you all. I’m sure I’ll get the hang of this new role eventually, so if you bare with me, I promise to do my best as your new Community Outreach Specialist.”

The room politely clapped for her, and she appreciated it greatly.

Once the moment had passed though, the team returned to the same noise level she had encountered when she walked into the room. The only one who didn’t partake right away was Lucius, who stopped to offer her a few more instructions. “Once you fill that out, you’ll head to the second floor and get your ID badge printed. You can ask the front desk for directions to Gotham General after that. Got it?” It wasn’t a derogatory mark in the slightest - Mr. Lucius Fox was issuing her a challenge as he arched a curious brow her way.

Sequestered in the corner, she didn’t feel at all intimidated or anxious by the tasks laid out for her. It wasn’t at all unlike Wonder Woman to face her ventures with the utmost vitality, and Diana felt that there wasn’t much difference between her superhero persona and who she was without the girdle. Ready and restless, Diana replied, “Got it.”

Gotham General was only the fifth or so hospital she had been to in her life, considering that her wounds healed on their own. She had only ever visited friends who were ill or in labour, and she stayed in specific cities for as long as she could before moving on, so her experience with doctors and nurses was quite limited. Still, it carried the same air as any other one she had been to: uncontrollably busy while feigning a sense of calm. The lighting was the same, the smell that wafted throughout despite the wings she walked between, and the way her heart ached when she saw people laying on gurneys in the hallways without loved ones to sit with them. They were factories of mixed emotions in her eyes, and she could somewhat understand why this role would be a definite challenge.

After flashing her Wayne Foundation badge to the nurses, Diana’s access had allowed her the instructions to reach the rooms used for isolation, as that was where the quarantine of the sludge-infested people were being kept. Despite the time that had passed between the initial infestation and the disappearance of the sludge in the waterways of the city, there had been absolutely no production of a solidified cure and the constant consumption of the isolation rooms was creating trouble for the hospital.

It was her job to meet with the head of the department and assess the situation.

Approaching the nurses’ station in the Isolation Ward, Diana was greeted by a rather serious looking senior woman as soon as she came within five feet of the desk. “Hello,” she spoke as soon as she was spotted, hoping to get the information she needed quickly so as not to bother her any further. “My name is Diana Prince and I am here representing the Wayne Foundation. I was hoping I could speak with Dr. Thompson?”

“She doesn’t work here anymore.” Was the blunt and disinterested reply of the older woman, sounding irritated that Diana dared to ask such an obvious question. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who switched up her position recently.

Unwilling to accept such an answer, Diana was firm but gentle as she pushed for more information. “Then who should I speak to? I’m here to see if we can help you with the quarantine issues you’ve been having.”

“Let me see what I can do.” Groaned the nurse before slowly reaching for the phone, her teeth grinding to further illustrate her irritation.

All Diana could do was sigh softly to herself before she turned around to look at the waiting room and find herself a seat.

Only to spot the only other person she knew who was traipsing around Gotham City with the same bravado as she was. “Clark?”

The glasses he wore to mask his identity nearly leapt off of his face when he looked up to see her. “Diana!” He exclaimed with a range of emotions as he dropped his pen and notepad onto the vacant chair beside him and raced over to her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here representing the Wayne Foundation.” She replied with a little too much glee, showing off her ID badge as if it was a badge of honour, as if she could prove to him how successful her infiltration mission had turned out so far.

He smiled at her, clearly impressed by her immediate rise to such a high status, and he prepared to open his mouth to tell her how proud he was of her. Or so she assumed, before a woman who looked to be a foot or so shorter than him squeezed in between the two of them without much subtlety and introduced herself. “Hi. Lois Lane, reporter for the Daily Planet.”

Despite the young woman making sure that she had interrupted their conversation, it somehow became Diana’s responsibility to offer her a handshake instead. Clark used his open mouth to play the part of the middle man between them. “Lois, this is Diana Prince, Diana, Lois.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Diana said kindly while putting all of her focus on the death grip that was exchanged between her and the fiery female before her. Despite her stature making her seem leagues smaller than the two of them, the rambunctious, determined energy that rolled off of Lois in waves was so impressive, she genuinely couldn’t look away from her even if she wanted to.

What Diana had mistaken for possible jealousy transformed into calculated willpower as she pulled out her phone and held it out between them. Clearly enunciating her words, Lois began to speak loud enough for her phone’s recording app to catch every word. “Miss Prince, you work for the Wayne Foundation. Is there anything you can tell us about what’s happening here with the victims of the sludge attacks? Is your company planning to invest more into a possible cure? Or provide Gotham General with a way to handle the upkeep of housing them?”

From the look in her eyes, there was clearly an invested fire ignited inside of her. Diana couldn’t tell if she knew someone in Metropolis who was affected by the sludge as well, or if she was simply that empathetic as a reporter, but it was obvious that she couldn’t avoid making some kind of statement and that put her in a dangerous situation given her short time in her new position.

Calmly so as to be mindful of words, Diana explained, “Given that I am quite new to my position, I cannot give you a proper answer at this point in time. I am here to assess the situation with the chief physician, and once we know more, I am sure Wayne Enterprises will be more than happy to provide you with a proper quote.”

Clark looked as if he had been hit with a cool breeze after sweating incessantly. On the other hand, Lois looked rather exasperated. “Sorry,” she showed that she was aware of her demanding behaviour as she removed the phone from her face and returned it to her pocket. “We’ve been sitting here waiting for answers ourselves. Since Gotham was hit first by all of this, we were hoping they might have some answers.” As Lois crossed her arms, Clark took the opportunity to add on, “We were in contact with a Gotham Gazette reporter but we haven’t heard from her since yesterday afternoon. We were hoping to run into her here today.” The pointed gaze he gave Diana showcased the nervousness he felt for whom she could only assume to be Vicki Vale.

“Why here?” Diana asked, wondering why the pair of them hadn’t just headed straight to the Gotham Gazette office if they wished to speak to her.

Lois refused to answer her at first, not until she made sure the coast was clear. Given that they were still standing next to the information desk and the older nurse had turned away from them so she could make her phone call, it was clear that no one was listening. Once she felt secure with their surroundings, she leaned in and informed Diana of their ulterior motive, “Because we might run into Commissioner Gordon here too. His daughter is supposedly one of the people who were infected.”

Gordon… The name sounded familiar to Diana and it took it her a moment too long to realize way, her face remaining blank as she tried to remember why.

Then, she remembered exactly who his daughter was, and what her alias was: Oracle.

The shock was written all over her face the moment it dawned on her. It suddenly made sense why no one had heard from her. It also explained why there was no headway made on a cure: the computer analysis they had relied on Oracle for was left incomplete if she was transformed into a sludge monster like everyone else who came in contact with it--

Diana gasped, her eyes going wide as a terrifying thought struck her like a bolt of the fiercest lightning.

“Hopefully, he will clarify if the rumour is true or not.” Clark offered some reassuring words, implying that this particular lead might be false.

However, it didn’t reach Diana. “Hopefully. If you’ll excuse me? I need make a call to my team.” Without waiting to see if Lois believed her, she turned and left the ward as fast as her feet could carry her. She ripped her phone out of her pocket and pretended to use it before placing it next to her ear, using her thumb to activate her ear piece. “Victor? Is the sludge contained at headquarters?”

“Cyborg here. I was just about to take it out again and--”

Knowing Clark could hear her with his developed sense of hearing from inside the hospital, she demanded both of their attention as she expressed her fears to them. “Don’t. This thing is taking over whoever touches it. Clark thinks that Oracle has been consumed by it. We need a new approach to it because we can’t make contact. I think that’s why we haven’t heard back from Arthur and Barry either. I think they’re… gone.”

((This is getting dramatic really fast! So now we have lost Barbara, Arthur and Barry too!? How can you find a cure for something you can’t study and experiment on? What is the remaining JL going to do? I hope you stick around to see what happens next! ~ Maiden))

[justiceandhopearchived-blog]

"Hate becomes your reason for living when you've lost everything you love." (It'd such a god damn Lydia thing to say)

Supergirl — Season 2  {Sentence Starters} | @chaosthxory | accepting

“You need to find something else to love. Hate is never the answer”

[skymoonandstardust]

Office Hero Part 4

AN: The Last part :( thank you all of you for loving this series and leaving scads of wonderful comments <3 I loved writing this and I'm kind of sad to see it go. . .  

The revelation of Clark Kent’s secret identity shook your world and changed how you saw . . .well, pretty much everything—especially him. It was going on a week now since you discovered his secret and so far you’d managed to keep it to yourself, act normal and not let anyone least of all him have any idea that you knew.  You still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that you were working in the same building as the man of steel, that you knew him, that you counted him as a friend. It was too wild to be true.  You’d think that this discovery would be enough for you and spell the end of it. You’d go back to being a normal reporter, slowly get used to the idea that Clark Kent who’s desk you passed every day on your way into work doubled as a hero, and that would be it.

. . . but there was no rest for the wicked and no time off for an investigative journalist.

As soon as you’d solved the mystery of the man of steel and the mild-mannered reporter you immediacy set yourself on another track, that of his friend Diana prince and the billionaire playboy himself Bruce Wayne. They were both inexplicably high on the danger scale and (at least in Diana’s case) had a clear friendship with Clark—there had to be something up with them, just like there had been with him and your reporter’s inquisitive instinct wouldn’t let you rest till you’d cracked them too.

It only made sense to you that if Clark was secretly a flying cape wearing hero then the other two had to have a similar day (or would it be night?) job so you started monitoring both of them.  Bruce Wayne was easy, being the rich, famous, playboy that he was, you just payed closer attention to all his photos, speeches and appearances --- and more importantly, his disappearances and cancelations.  The trouble there was sorting through the white noise to find the really relevant stuff, which was made doubly hard because of the massive amounts of info you got on him every day and the fact you still sort of had to look over everything since you didn’t know what might turn out to be the key you needed to unlock the truth in his darkness.

You weren’t ashamed to say that you’d often asked some of your friends and coworkers to help you sort through it all. There were times you asked them or keep an eye out for anything Wayne related for you when you had to go out for a story or were too busy to do it yourself.    

You made a file for Bruce and wrote your data down in a notebook jut like you had for Clark. His got full surprisingly fast.

Meanwhile the one’s you’d made for Diana were nearly empty.

It was much harder to get information on her. On top of the fact that she wasn’t as well monitored as Bruce, only the most basic facts were known about her life, nothing more nothing less.  Still, it would have seemed above board over all if, when you started digging-- Her past hadn’t turned out to be little know and sketchy. It seemed like she had just popped into the face of the earth one day and just started living her life.  It had taken you asking for help or information from other reporters, even ones from other papers and calling in a few favors to learn more. . . but it only made things more confusing. Ultimately the trail led you to a historical societies archive’s were you spent the day going back in time through pictures, looking at centuries worth of photos in an attempt to find her or any of her ancestors.

You found her alright.

A thrill had gone through you when you’d first found Diana standing In one of the photos, followed immediately by a burst of confusion and excitement when you realized that the photo was taken too long ago and she looked too old  (exactly as old as she did now as a matter of fact. . .) for it to be her. For a second you wondered if it was her mother or maybe a grandmother but no, when you looked at the names written in the bottom corner of the page hers was written there in a faded spidery script and they looked exactly the same in every way; there was no piecemeal genetic inheritance that you usually see—no “they have the same eyes” or “the chins looks the same”.

No, they had to be the same person.

Trying to stifle your exactment and crush the urge to go tell the world you kept digging, going further and further back and finding her in more and more photos. In every single one she looked the same, like she hadn’t aged a day even though the date written down on the back or the corer, the clothes she and the other people in the photo wore, and the changing style of the pictures themselves all said differently.

Finally, you got all the way back to the nineteen forties, and found a few more photos of her before the trial suddenly went ice cold and froze to nothing in front of you.  

That was it.

No more pictures, no more appearances after that—and still she looked exactly like she did the day you saw her walk through the daily planet’s glass doors.

You left the building that day with more questions then answers.

Billionaires and nurses weren’t the only ones you were keeping track of and monitoring. You also kept an eye on anything and everything having to do with heroes or the justice league. Hey, maybe if you couldn’t figure it out one way then you could figure it out the opposite way, attach the hero to the secret identity instead of the secret identity to the hero. . .

Whatever would work.

Two days after your trip to the historical society you were sitting at your desk at work, actually working although more then half the office was stopped in their tracks, all clustered around the nearest Tv as the news channel played the latest battle of the justice league live as they faced off against a small army (for what was it, The second time this month?)   Just a minute before you’d seen Clark do his usual disappearing act, running out of the office when everyone’s back was turned and no one was looking, so, you knew, he could be change into superman and fly off to join the battle. At the sight a smile that bordered on a knowing smirk flashed across your face before you got back to writing.  

Three minutes later and you let yourself take a quick break to look up yourself and watch from your desk as the arrival of superman was announced by the blonde pretty female newscaster.  Just as you were about to look away the tv changed as they showed Wonder Woman Standing her ground as a hail of bullets sparked harmlessly off her famous bracelets.

The second you saw her you knew it was the same face you’d been searching for and staring at in pictures for hours. It was the same Person Clark had brought into the office and introduced to everyone.

Wonder Woman was Diana Prince.

It was almost too easy to spot once you knew what you were looking for.  The only difference was the change in outfit, the tiara and that fact that her hair was down instead of the ponytail it was in when you first saw her or tied up in a bun on the back of her head.  The whole thing seemed about as ridiculous and as likely to work as Clark’s stupid glasses and the appearing, disappearing forehead curl . . .yet somehow, they both worked.  You guessed it went to show how caught up in themselves, stupid and blind people at large could be, that a pair of glasses and a change of hairstyle was enough to fool them and keep them from seeing the hero in front of them.

Everything clicked into place and it all made sense. Of course she would stay the same in all those photos--- if Diana Prince really was wonder woman she’d be an amazon, an immortal. It would explain why she seemed to appear out of the blue one day. . . she actually had.  Her words came back to you, drifting through your head once more. . .

“It’s a small island near Greece in the Aegean Sea. . .”

And the amazons were said to live in an mystical island near Greece hidden and protected from the outside world

The giddiness of your second triumph thrummed In your veins, causing a wide smile to spread on your face, directed at empty air.  You’d met Wonder Woman, you’d met a literal goddess—well not really but technically. . .as close as you were going to get.  Laughter bubbled up in you, light and euphoric and you could barely keep it in, but you had to.  if you let it out everyone would be wondering just what you found so funny and amusing when there was a battle going on right now, when the justice league were fighting together at this very moment. With a small force of will you swallowed the laugh and tried to concentrate on something normal and serious to keep it from coming back up, scaling your throat to escape into the empty waiting air.

Two mysteries solved, One left to go. . .

 Fittingly, it was at night that you discovered the truth behind Bruce Wayne, Billionaire Playboy.  About four days after you connected Diana Prince to Wonder Woman you were at home, working late on a piece due the next day when a voice from the darkness of your shadowed hallway made you nearly jump out of your skin “Doing more research?” The deep gravelly voice sent shivers through you as you recognized it instantly.

You were in trouble—deep deep trouble.

That was the only explanation, the only reason he’d be here since he hardly ever came to Metropolis – lord knew he had enough trouble to solve in his own city. Somehow, he’d found out about your research, all your discoveries and had come here for you. Almost certainly to threaten you , possibly to destroy everything you’d gotten on him and the other two heroes. At least you knew he wasn’t the killing type, you’d learned that much from your research and years of watching him fight and stop crime.

Nonetheless you found yourself having to speak over a pounding heart as you found courage from somewhere and answered the voice from the shadows.  “Sorry to disappoint, but no. It’s for work.”

Batman stepped out of the blackness and you could have worn that for half a second his lips had been just he slightest twitch up. . .that was probably as close as he ever came to a smile “You have been doing a lot of research lately, haven’t you—into Bruce Wayne, Diana prince, and especially your coworker Clark Kent.”

“Don’t you mean you and two other members of the league?” The words were out before you even realized it and as soon as they were you wanted to bite your tongue off, to sew your mouth shut so you’d never speak again—anything to keep from saying something so provoking and stupid. It was too late, the words were out now and there was no taking them back so you could only continue on. You pulled up a picture of Bruce Wayne and turned your computer to face him, so he could see “That is you isn’t it?” The face under the mask was inscrutable as ever. You may as well have tried getting a reaction out of stone “Maybe. What I want to know is what you know—about the people you’ve been looking into.” You scoffed and turned the laptop back to you “Please. You already know it all—why else would you be here? You just want me to corroborate it so you can be sure that everything I wrote is the truth. It is.”

Your words did seem to surprise him, but the emotion only flickered there for half a second before there wasn’t a trace it had ever been there—it may as well have been an illusion of light and shadow.  “Humor me.” You sighed and closed the picture before putting your laptop aside and locking eyes with him again “Alright. . ..” so you told him as briefly, concisely and accurately as you could everything that had happened, everything you’d found out from start to finish including all the hard proof you’d been able to get on all of them— only leaving out the minor detail of your power obviously.

When the last of your lingering words faded slowly from the air emotion once again seeped through the cracks of his (literal) mask as he nodded once approvingly, a (small) smile on his face “Impressive.”  Of all the thing’s you’d been expecting to hear that was the last thing you thought he would say.

Batman lowered his hood, showing the features of Bruce Wayne exactly as you suspected “How would you like to Join the Justice League?”

You were completely and utterly stunned.  You couldn’t believe you might have actually heard him right—never in your wildest dreams did you ever imagine that this was what he was here for, to offer you an opportunity to join the Justice League. . .but here you were.  “b-but I can’t. I can’t fight, I don’t have any training-- and I don’t have any powers.”

Bruce smirked “Don’t You?”

Your heart went right up your throat before sinking all the way to your stomach “W-what?”

“You’ve told me everything except what made you look into Clark Kent, or how you knew to look into me and Diana. Diana makes some sense because to you there was a clear connection between her and Kent- -they knew each other, but you didn’t know Clark knew me—in fact, he told you the opposite. So how did you know?”

Against your will your eyes flicked up to the black ten hovering above him and he caught their movement, his eyes lifting in an attempt to see what you were seeing. . . except he couldn’t.  Words and sentences choked your throat. . .too few, too many, and you couldn’t get any of them out.  You inhaled and let it out in a great big whooshing breath that shook the words loose inside you “I- I can see numbers—over people’s heads. They tell me how dangerous someone is. It’s usually on a scale of one to ten. . . but thanks to Clark I’ve run into one or two of you who broke the scale.”

The same crooked almost boyish grin that you’d seen directed at a few near swooning girls at the planet reappeared, making him seem years younger and much happier, much nicer. It was hard to believe that smile could belong to someone as serious, cold and direct as the batman. . . which was exactly the point of course. “I thought It was something like that” The grin grew wider “Still say you’re not fit to join the league?  That power could come in useful-- And you’re smart, smart enough to connect the dots between me Clark, Diana to our alter egos ---and get enough evidence to prove it. That’s just the kind of skills the league needs. As for training, don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of that if you decide to join. It would take time, don’t’ get me wrong, but you could do it--- you’d be able to hold your own next to the rest of us. So what do you say, do you want to join the justice league?”

The forevers:  @casownsmyass  @docharleythegeekqueen @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious@his-paradox @l4life @fangirl-who-dreams @sarciaczekk @esoltis280 @theresnofandomforthis  @laramitk @dragonangel-funandfire  @a-sea-of-fandoms @thatbasicnerd4life @scarlettsoldier @cassiopeia-barrow

 The office heroes: @scionofthestars @suz-123 @aquabrie @sneakingthroughyourgifs @theresnofandomforthis @bbparker @iclaudsworld  @purpledolphin-f   @luv-what-you-do  @coltcas

[justauthoring]

A Mystery

Anonymous Requested: Hi! I love your work! Could I please request a Barry Allen x reader where she’s new to the league is learning how to control her powers (teleportation/power replication). She becomes good friends with Barry and Diana is training her and notices the chemistry between the two and tries to get them together? Thank you ☺️ + Hi there!! If it’s possible would I be able to request a one shot with Barry Allen (Ezra miller version) and a shy reader? Can it maybe be something where he tries to do all these things to get her to open up and she finally does? Thank you so much!! I love your blog btw, you’re so talented and I just can’t 😍💗💗

Pairing: Barry x Reader

Warnings: none.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing stories, and copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost, please ask first - and even then I might say no.

“Just go in there!”

You shook your head, fighting the grip of Diana - who just so happened to be demigod - desperate not to enter the room you knew Barry resided in. “Honestly, Ms. Prince, i-i’m okay. I-I don’t need to see him right now!” Diana innocently rolled her eyes in response, shaking her; “how many times have you told you to call me Diana?”

You pouted slightly, like a child; “a lot.”

“Exactly,” she smiled. Before you knew it, Diana took your moment as a distraction to push you even further into the room, making you practically stumble into the room. You quickly regained balance, truing to play it cool but failing miserably as you found the shocked eyes of Barry on both you and Diana. You stumbled for words to say, standing there like an idiot for a moment, cheeks burning red before Diana came up beside you. “Hello, Barry.”

Barry nodded, smiling hesitantly; “hello.”

“Y/N and I just finished our training,” Diana smiled brightly. 

“Oh, really?” Barry asked, and your cheeks further flushed in embarrassment - why did she have to bring up your training? It was something you were greatly embarrassed by, considering you were the only member of Justice League that still needed training... it made you feel weak and less compared to the rest - even if they said you weren’t. “Is everything going well?” Barry directed his question to you, and you felt yourself stuck.

“Um - I-”

“It’s going great,” Diana cut in, squeezing your shoulder supportively. “Y/N will soon surpass us all.” Barry laughed, and nodded, making your heart flutter. “Well, then, I should get going. I think Bruce was looking for me.” You felt your heart spike in panic as Diana left your side, leaving the room too quickly for you to follow and not look like an idiot. You met her eye, telling her not to leave but she only gave you a thumbs up as if to say - “just talk!”

There was a long pause of silence as Barry stepped away from the desk he’d been next to, and his hand fell on your shoulder, making you jump. “Sorry-” he laughed, giving you that award winning smile. “I just wanted make sure you were still there.”

You laughed lightly, feeling your cheeks burn hot in embarrassment. Why couldn’t you just talk to him like normal? It wasn’t just that you were incredibly shy, at least not now, because you could speak to the rest perfectly fine. Your voice got a little quiet sometimes and you didn’t speak much, but you didn’t act like a sputtering fool around them. Though you knew why, Barry was just too adorable for his own good. “Y-Yeah, i’m here.”

Barry nodded, inviting you to sit down and before you could reply, you sat down. He seemed a little shocked by your eagerness but none the less followed; “so how is training going?” Barry asked again, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I know I asked early, but i was kind of hoping you’d answer.”

You smiled, clasping your hands together in a fidget. “They’re going well,” you whispered, smiling. “Yeah, Ms. Prince really thinks i’m progressing well.”

“That’s great!”

You were a little shocked by his enthusiasm but none the less grinned his way, happy that he seemed to genuinely care that much. “Maybe we could train together one day?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise, eyes widening. “Only if you’d like tho-”

“No,” you cut off, shaking your head. “No, I’d love to. I was just a bit shocked is all...”

“That I’d want to train with you?”

“Yeah...” you mumbled, looking down at your lap. “I mean, i’m still in training and you all are so advanced compared to me... I sometimes wonder why i’m ever apart of the tea-” 

“Woah,” Barry cut off in surprise, falling next to you. You looked up at him, meeting his eye as he shook his head. “That’s not true at all,” Barry said, leaning in closer you felt your breath get caught in your throat. “You’re just as valuable to the team as the rest of us - if not more. Don’t ever think you’re not important to the team, we all appreciate you very much.” You felt your cheeks burn, but this time in response to Barry’s kind words. Your eyes found his and you found yourself unable to look away. “I appreciate you very much-”

You’re not sure what possessed you, but suddenly you leaned forward, pressing your lips against Barry. It was a spur of the moment decision and as soon as it happened you pulled away, looking away in humiliation. “I-I’m so sorry, I don’t- I don’t-” Barry’s hands reached for your cheeks, cupping your face and pulling your eyes back on his own. You thought he’d be mad but instead his own cheeks were red, much lighter and he smiled at you.

His lips then descended on you, and you almost immediately responded. Barry’s hands wound around your face, pulling you closer and you leaned into him. Your first kiss with Barry was everything you’d ever imagined it to be, but in your opinion it ended all too quick.

Your faces were only inches apart and Barry’s eyes bore into your own; “you’re a mystery, Y/N.” He breathed, “a mystery I want to discover.”

[skalidra]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd Characters: Slade Wilson, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Diana (Wonder Woman) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Fusion, POV Outsider, Matchmaking, Hints of Slade/Dick Summary:

Slade doesn't train the rookies, that's one of his lines in the sand when it comes to working as an auror. No training, no naive ducklings following at his heels, and no responsibility for some stupid kid's life. Well, unless it's a direct order from President Prince, who is giving him exactly no choice in the matter. Then he supposes he'll have to deal with it; for exactly as long as he has to.

The door opens slightly, and a head pokes in through the crack. No one important would be that shy, or call him, “Mr. Wilson?”

He doesn’t bother answering the voice any more than the knock, swapping to the next picture. This time, unfortunately, it doesn’t scare the lackey away.

His door is opened, a quiet, “Come in,” spoken to someone clearly not him as the lackey gingerly approaches his desk and stops in front of it. “Mr. Wilson, I have a new trainee for you? I believe you were sent a form about it?”

Mm. Yeah, the little folded up paper mouse that he’d taken one look at the headline of and immediately shredded into pieces.

“I don’t train fresh meat,” he says, narrowing his eyes at the picture. That’s an odd angle for the chair to have been knocked over. “Tell the President to send him off to someone who gives a damn.”

Read more on the Ao3!

[bubble-tea-bunny]

on the right bank of the seine

[diana prince x reader]

author’s note: fluffy lil imagine for diana((: might write another part to this in the future, i actually kinda like the concept

word count: 1,523

This morning Diana’s walk to work is quiet, as it usually is. Her boots click quietly on the concrete as she makes her way down Rue de Rivoli. It’s cloudy, but lately the day has always started out as such, and then given way to clear skies and a welcoming sun as the hours went on. She inhales deeply, smiling as she takes in the crisp, cool air. Every day she makes this walk it’s like seeing everything with fresh eyes. At this time, there aren’t many tourists up and about yet. It’s only those on their way to work.

The Napoleon Courtyard is empty when she arrives. The fountains are switched on, and they gurgle quietly. Diana greets the receptionists and other employees in the lobby when she steps into the museum lobby. Her steps are curt, footfalls echoing in the large pyramid and accompanied by hushed voices of others on their way to their offices. She turns on the lights when she gets to hers, and sets her bag on the ground by her desk. She shrugs her coat off and drapes it over the back of her chair before she takes a seat, proceeding to check the e-mails she’d gotten after she left yesterday.

The Louvre opens at 9 AM. Because Diana arrives so early, she never sees the line which grows in the lobby, excitable and lively tourists shuffling around between stanchions as they wait to buy their tickets. She doesn't doubt that it’s quite the sight. People from all over the world meet at this center of art. For all she knows, two people standing next to each other in line could be from opposite sides of the globe.

When she finishes going over her emails and reviewing the documents sitting on her desk, most of which are about the new pieces expected to come to her department within the next week, she likes to go see the crowds. Enough time has passed since opening that the rooms are busy, tours flitting through, classes sitting on the wooden floors as a guide teaches them about the painting on the wall which stretches from the floor all the way to the ceiling.

Diana smiles as she takes in the visitors, watches as some take pictures; read the little card next to the painting which has all the technical information; or have discussions about a piece—about its artist, about the time period it’s from. It’s beautiful to see this coming together, this appreciation of art, an activity that crosses cultures. One doesn’t need to know a certain language when they look at these paintings. They need only their eyes and a heart willing to feel what the artist felt when they created these wondrous oeuvres—that passion which drives man to paint a picture, to paint their soul.

It’s not hard to tell which room contains the Mona Lisa. There’s a sea of people to wade through in that area. The portrait is kept behind a wall of bulletproof glass to defend against any attacks. Diana sticks to the back of the room and she can just barely see the painting from here, peeking out over the heads of those who crowd around it. She sighs quietly and glances at the opposite wall—The Wedding at Cana hangs proudly in all its vibrant coloring, but only a few pay it any mind. It’s the largest canvas in the museum’s collection. Her eyes rove over the expanse as she walks past it and into the next room. It’s an incredible piece. She wishes more people would notice it. Perhaps one day.

The crowd is much thinner in the next room. The click of camera shutters is distinctly absent here. There’s a tour that’s just on their way out, which leaves only small groups: families and couples dotted around. She spots you on the far side of the room, back to her as you sit on a bench facing one of the smaller paintings. She knows which one it is, and she’ll admit not many focus on it. Not when there are many other larger pieces to its left or its right. It’s easy to overlook. Quietly she makes her way closer, and when she’s within range she notices you’re hunched over slightly, a small sketchbook in your lap. The blue lead you use makes it hard to see the picture clearly from where she is, especially beneath the glare of the lights, but she can tell well enough that it’s of the painting in front of you.

“That’s very beautiful,” she compliments softly so as not to disrupt the silence.

You glance up and smile sheepishly, shrugging offhandedly. “Oh, this? It’s nothing special. But thanks.”

She smiles back and walks closer, eyes focused on the piece on the wall. “Are you a fan of Gainsborough?”

“I have no favorites. Every painting here is amazing.”

“May I?” Diana points at the bench.

“Of course.” You nod quickly, scooting over slightly so you’re not in the center. The two of you sit there in silence, admiring the painting which isn’t more than 2 feet tall.

“Do you often draw paintings you see?” Diana asks, motioning to your sketchbook.

“Among other things. Sometimes when I’m at the aquarium I’ll draw the fish. I’ve drawn some of the statues in the Jardin des Tuileries too.”

“You’re talented.” Diana feels she’s stating the obvious, but you’d brushed off her earlier comment, so she wants to say it, to drive home just how much skill you have and how special that is. “Do you draw them just because they catch your eye, or have you researched them before?”

“Whatever catches my eye. Although I do like to do a bit of research when I find what I want to draw next.” You hold up your phone, smiling slightly.

Diana smiles and points to the Gainsborough painting. “And what can you tell me about this one?”

You purse your lips as you look at the piece, trying to remember what you’d read when you first sat down and looked it up. “Conversation in a Park by Thomas Gainsborough was created in 1745. It’s something called a ‘conversation piece,’ which demonstrates the influence of French art on English aesthetics in the eighteenth century. The landscape is very reminiscent of Gainsborough’s style.” That’s about all you can recall. You glance at Diana to find her smile has widened.

“Impressive.”

“I try,” you respond playfully.

Diana doesn’t remember seeing you around before. The Louvre is large, yes, but she does work here, and if you’ve stopped by more than once, she reckons she should have at least seen you during one of your visits. But you’re a new face. “I’m Diana.” Admittedly she doesn’t speak with many visitors. The most had been answering questions about a painting they might have been looking at and she happened to be passing by at the time. Never did the conversation veer in a direction where she felt she should introduce herself.

“[Name],” you tell her, eyes bright and friendly. You hold your hand out, and when she takes hold of it to shake, her grip is firm. It does catch you a little off guard—most people whose hands you shake don’t put much force behind it. You always wonder why.

“It was very nice to meet you, [Name]. But I’m afraid I must get back to work. They may wonder where I’ve gone,” Diana jokes.

You wave your hand. “No problem. I’ll just be here drawing.” You motion to your sketchbook and chuckle.

Diana stands as she asks “Will I be seeing more of you?”

“Do you want to see me around more?” You look at her as you push your glasses up slightly so they rest more comfortably on the bridge of your nose.

She doesn’t hesitate with her answer. “I do.”

Her response elicits a shy smile from you and you look away momentarily, trying to fend off the warmth in your cheeks, but to no avail. You meet her eyes again. “Then yes. You will.”

Her gaze is warm and her smile kind as the sun. “Wonderful.”

You watch as she walks out of the room and disappears around the corner, and sigh when she’s out of sight. You look back down at your current sketch. You’d drawn the man and woman in the painting but had yet to start on the environment. You look up at Conversation in the Park, noting the tree behind the bench, and when you return your attention to your drawing, you get as far as outlining the trunk before you stop.

This isn’t nearly as exciting as talking with Diana. You bite your lip as you give one more glance at the Gainsborough painting, then turn to a new page in your sketchbook. Even though you hadn’t been conversing with Diana long, you think you memorized the features of her face quite well. You’re not sure how much longer you’re sitting there, drawing her, burning her image into your brain, but you look so deep in concentration that no one bothers you.

[madeleineandwilliam-ff]

Chapter Six

A/N: This is a rather short chapter, but I hope you guys like it. The next chapter should be longer. :) Let me know what you think!

It had been a few days since Madeleine and William’s first date. William had to return to Scotland for university the following night, so Madeleine hadn’t seen him since Sunday. 

William and Madeleine were enamored with one another, they’d spent every moment they could talking on the phone and IMing. They were in the blissful, honeymoon phase of their new relationship. And while the phone and IM conversations helped their relationship, it still didn’t make Madeleine miss William’s presence any less. But distance truly did make the heart grow fonder, and it made her yearn for his next visit to London even more.

William promised he’d be back in London to see her soon, and they’d even talked of plans for Madeleine to come spend a weekend with him in Scotland. 

They hadn’t told many people about their new relationship, because then it had a higher chance of being talked about to the press. Madeleine had only told her sister and Louise, and for right now that was enough. Their relationship was going so well; but it was new and so fragile. And Madeleine was terrified of losing him. 

She’d never known anyone like him. All of her past boyfriends from school never challenged her like he did. But William also made her feel safe, validated, and loved. She could see herself, no feel herself falling so deeply in love with him. Prince William was set to be her first love at this rate. 

It terrified her, for she’d never truly loved someone. It was a fear of the unknown, but she supposed that was what love was supposed to be. And she could only hope that this love was going to be a mutual feeling. 

While things between William and Madeleine were going well, the paparazzi still had not left Madeleine alone. They were constantly camped out outside of her flat and as of recent, were following her and Louise to university. 

She and Louise had taken to using William’s preferred entrance, the fire escape, in dire circumstances. And each time they climbed down that latter it reminded Madeleine of how much easier everything would be if she would just reconcile with her parents. 

She hadn’t talked to them in nearly two months, and she had begun to miss them. There had been many moments in the last few days where she wished she could call her mother and tell her all about William. And then it would be nice for her father to reinstate her security detail too. 

But things were looking up for her, and she was afraid letting them back into her life would ruin that. She was afraid of what her father would do once he found out about her and William. She was afraid of the help he’d offer, and the advice he’d no doubt throw in her direction. So for now, while she missed them, she wanted to continue to see to what her life looked like without them. 

The flashes were blinding, they were screaming her name so loudly she couldn’t hear herself think. This was worse than Stockholm ever had been. 

Madeleine and Louise were trying to make their way into class, but to no avail as the press followed them from their flat all the way to university. She desperately longed for her security detail, but found it was useless to wish for them in a moment like this. 

She and Louise were stuck in the middle of a crowd of about twenty photo-hungry photographers, all yammering on with questions about William and the British Royal Family. Madeleine's heart raced and her palms began to sweat as a feeling of claustrophobia set in. 

“Madeleine, are you going to see William this weekend?”

“Madeleine, are you planning on enrolling at St. Andrew’s!?”

“Madeleine, what do your parents think of William? Is it true they met him when they were in London last?”

Madeleine had never encountered this type of attention in her life. For the most part, the Swedish press were respectful of the Royal Family and their privacy. They came up with the occasional rumor, or nickname, but never would they have done this. 

New pictures of her and William hadn’t surfaced, but that only seemed to fuel London’s press on. Madeleine felt Louise’s touch on her shoulder as she looked over at her friend in sheer panic. She was scared as the vultures enclosed even further in on them. 

Louise shifted her eyes to the university library that was close by, and she took Madeleine’s hand in her’s. “Leni, ett...två...tre.”

Madeleine furrowed her brow as Louise counted to three in Swedish. Louise pulled Madeleine with all her might before Madeleine even realized what was going on. The girls used their combined body weight to force themselves through the horde of photographers. 

It took a few minutes, and some strength but they broke through and darted across the lawn of the university to the library just as campus security was showing up to escort the press off the property. 

Once in the library, Louise led Madeleine to an open, empty computer lab and locked the door behind them. 

“They’re absolutely awful!” Louise said to her as she slid down the door onto the floor. 

Madeleine, who was still standing, looked down at her friend. “I know, I’m sorry you had to be involved in that.”

Louise smiled up at her. “You’re my best friend, Len. I got used to it back home, but this is a whole other level. But I’ll get used to it too, it may take a little longer though.”

Madeleine slid down the wall and sat next to Louise on the floor. “Yeah, but we shouldn’t have to. I thought they would’ve moved on by now.”

“And once they find out about you and William being together for real, it’s only going to get worse...”

Madeleine sighed as she put her head in her hands. “I know, I know, maybe I need to ca...”

Madeleine stopped as she heard someone clear their throat from behind them. They looked in the far corner of the room to find a boy about their age with dazzling blue eyes and brown hair looking back at them. 

He gave them a small, uncomfortable smile and waved. “Uhm, hello.”

His accent. It wasn’t English. But it was Scandinavian, possibly Norwegian or Danish. And by the way he was looking at Madeleine, he knew exactly who she was.

Madeleine, turned to her friend for reassurance. This boy just heard her confirm that she was in a relationship with William, she immediately thought of the damage he could do to their new relationship. Louise squeezed Madeleine’s arm as they both got up off the floor.

“Look, uhm, Princess. If you’re worried about what you just said being spread past this room, I promise you it won’t.”

Madeleine wanted to believe him, she did. This unnamed boy had kind eyes and a genuine, innocent smile that matched. But she’d been fooled by his type before. “Thank you.”

Madeleine stepped closer to the desk and extended her hand out to him. “Please, call me Madeleine.” 

“It’s a pleasure, Madeleine. I’m Joseph. Joseph Reed.” He replied, smiling at the two girls in front of him. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Joseph.” Madeleine paused and gestured over to Louise. “This here is Louise.”

Louise and Joseph made their introductions, and Madeleine smiled over at him. She was trying to be as charming and genuine as she could be, she did not want anyone to have confirmation of her and William’s relationship just yet.

“So Joseph, I can’t help but notice your accent. Where in Scandinavia are you from?” 

“Denmark.” He replied as he fumbled with a pen on his desk. 

“I knew you were a fellow Scand. Nice to know we’re not alone, right Lussan?” Madeleine said nudging her friend in the arm. 

“Definitely.” Louise replied, smiling.

“Well, Joseph we’re going to be late to our next class but it was very nice to meet you. Hopefully we’ll see you around?” Madeleine asked as she zipped her coat up.

“Sure. And Madeleine?” Joseph replied as he rose from his desk.

“Yes?”

“I meant what I said about keeping what I heard a secret. I know what a hard time I’ve had adjusting to London, so I can’t imagine how you feel. You don’t have to worry about me, honestly.” 

Madeleine gave him a genuine smile, she felt a bit of guilt as she looked at the seemingly harmless boy. He really did seem trustworthy. “Thank you, Joseph. You have no idea what that means to me, honestly.”

It was hours later back in their flat, when Madeleine and Louise found themselves rewatching their encounter with the press on the news. It looked every bit as bad watching it as it was living it. You could hardly see Madeleine and Louise with all of the photographers crowded around them, and now the gossip journalists had apparently nicknamed Madeleine as Diana 2.0, after William’s later mother.

“That is so disrespectful.” Louise said, looking at the television with a scowl on her face.

“I know, you would’ve thought they’d learned with what happened to her.” Madeleine replied, sighing. 

“Len, I think you need to call and get your security detail from your father. The press here, they’re dangerous.” Louise said looking over at her friend, her face displaying an overwhelming amount of worry.

“Yeah, I’ll call him tomorrow. I think it’s time we have a talk anyways.” Madeleine said as she heard her phone start to ring.

“Good, good.” Louise paused, smiling over at Madeleine. “Now better go answer, you know who is calling.”

Madeleine grinned as she sprang up from her spot on the couch and into the kitchen where her cellphone was.

“Why hello, William Wales.”

“Mads, my god. Are you alright?” William’s voice was coursed with worry.

“Oh yeah, today? It was a little much, but I’m fine.” Madeleine replied, touched by the genuine concern he had for her.

“God, but what if something had happened. I’m so sorry, Madeleine.” William paused, he was so distraught. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

Madeleine wished she could be there with him, to reassure him in person that she was okay. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt about the press after what happened to his mother.

“I promise you that I’m okay. They scared me a little, but Louise got me out. You seem to forget that I can handle myself, darling.”

William gave her a small laugh, “But maybe you should get your security reinstated? I know that you don’t like having them around, and you’re not exactly on the best terms with your father. But Madeleine, please. Or else I’m going to have to come to London and protect you myself.”

Madeleine couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m way ahead of you, Prince Charming. Although I am dying to see you.”

“You’re clever trying to change the subject, but promise me you’ll get your security detail back?” 

Madeleine sighed. “I promise. Although if I don’t get them, that means I get you back into town right as my personal bodyguard? So which one do you think sounds more appealing to me?”

“You’re the most frustrating woman in the world. But did I mention that I miss you? Because I do, terribly.”

“And I, you.” Madeleine paused as she heard the doorbell ring. “Now tell me about your day. I want to hear everything.”

Madeleine heard the doorbell ring again just as William was telling her about a fight two rugby players that lived in his dormitory got into that morning, when Louise yelled at her from down the hall to get the door.

Madeleine rolled her eyes and walked down the hall, with her phone glued to her ear; to ensure she heard every detail of William’s day. The bell rang for the third time just as Madeleine opened it. 

Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the figure in front of her. She couldn’t believe he’d come all this way, unannounced. She felt an overwhelming amount of emotions as she looked into his eyes. 

She suddenly remembered that she was on the phone, but she was too surprised to listen to William.

“William? I’m going to have to call you back.”

Once she and William hung up, she looked up into his crystal blue eyes; the very same eyes she’d inherited from him. It was her father, someone she never thought would show up on her doorstep like this unannounced.

“Hi Pappa.”

[fyeahwonderbat]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH SCHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE.

NOTE: To fully understand this prompt, please read its prequel, Gotham Academy AU Part V. Thanks!

More than anything, there was one thing Bruce was thankful for during the Thanksgiving holiday weekend.

Alfred’s dedication to his succulent feast of a dinner.

That perfectionism of his made it entirely possible for his young ward to sneak out of Wayne Manor and bike his way back towards Gotham Academy, a devious plan concocted in his mind. It felt just as invigorating as it was mortifying to know he could exhibit the characteristics of an adult and a child simultaneously. All Bruce knew was that he had a goal in mind and the rest of the world, along with his sense and logic, were burned away in the recesses of his mind while he was ablaze with a need to put his curiosities to rest. If he could only learn something of value about the mysterious Diana Prince, perhaps he could expel her from his system and return to his rather gloomy and placid life. Until he had accomplished such a feat – as dangerous as his methods were in curbing his distress – it felt as though there was no reprieve from his insistent desire to use knowledge as a means to best her.

All he needed to do was collect some sort of background information about her from a direct source.

The principal’s office was the perfect place to begin his highly inappropriate escapades.

Bruce believed himself to be intelligent when he stored his bike in the tailored hedges next to the academy’s main entrance. The surrounding walls felt taller when he was meant to sneak around them, but he refused to let himself be intimidated. For fear of being spotted by any passersby despite the secluded property the school sat upon, the would-be sleuth crept through the open gateway with ease; he had correctly predicted that the janitorial staff would be on-site at such a late hour in order to tidy the place without lawless teenagers getting in their way. That would guarantee an easy way of slipping in and out through the entryway, however, that would present him with sentries to avoid when he eventually got inside.

It was time to strategize.

Any entrance into the building would serve him well so long as he could get inside. Bruce had decided on his bike ride over that the main entrance would be too simple – too suspicious – and therefore most unlikely that the doors would be unlocked. As ironic as it was, the very doors he had ran through when hoping to chase Diana down on the quad were his best chance at getting into the school. After all, the staff parking lot led off from the quad, since the main supply closet was across from the library. Everything sounded so realistic in his mind while he slinked around the east side of the building, fighting off the nipping cold and the falling snow and his self-preservation instinct.

It was only when the jostling of locked doors greeted him that Bruce allowed one negative thought enter his mind: had he let himself become too obsessed with this girl!?

One that he wasn’t even the slightest bit romancing, let alone befriending?

One that had presented herself to be a vision of loveliness no matter how much he tried to antagonise her?

One that was shrouded in mystery, even though she was constantly injecting herself into his life?

His obstinate willpower stomped out that lone hesitation as he then tried to assess his surroundings. Bruce scanned the wall before him carefully, nearly scoffing at his fortune when he spotted a rather thick downspout connected to the rain gutter on the roof – he could scale the wall! All he needed to figure out was an accessible entry point—

He was immediately surprised to find a cracked window.

It didn’t look like it was done on purpose – more like someone hadn’t secured the hatch and left it ajar ever so slightly – nevertheless, it was absolutely vital for his mission. The fact that it was on the second floor made him nearly suspicious of his good fortune, though. Still, Bruce wasted not another moment as he stomped over to the thick black pipe and found his grip with his warmly gloved hands. Finally, his training with Alfred would come in handy! The butler would most likely not approve of his usage of such techniques, he knew…

Bruce planted one foot on the wall and then pulled himself up with all of the strength found in his upper body.

It took him a few good heaves, a handful of deep and chilling breaths, but he reached his secret entrance in exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds.

He’d lie to Alfred and say that it was his time for climbing the rope in gym class, because he was quite proud of his efforts already.

With eager hands did he throw the window open. Bruce stretched out his left leg to hook inside the room, his left hand holding onto the wall as he tugged his entire body toward the smell of the chemicals that were cleaning Gotham Academy. He let loose one pained grunt while channelling the muscles of his core to not only balance his body but to toss himself into whatever room he had snuck into.

The moment he landed though, his good fortune ran out.

A gasp came from the other side of the room, a flashlight fell down the length of his bundled form, and a smoky voice demanded, “Who the hell are you!?”

Bruce refused to lift his head for fear of being recognised now, or later in a line-up of students. He remained still due to nervousness but he also had the intention of luring the janitor into closer and closer…

Until he could perform a classic fake-out by shooting off to one side and running around him, booking it for the door.

“Hey, WAIT!” Shouted the disgruntled old timer as he attempted to chase Bruce down and bring him to justice. Calling Alfred from the local police station had not been on the agenda for the evening, and so the young sneak-thief called upon his weary muscles to drive him onward while he re-evaluated his situation.

Headmaster Hammer’s office was on the first floor, and of course, the closest stairwell was the very one Diana had cornered him in not too long ago! He stomped down the steps she would have taken to reach him that day, only he leapt over the last few to hasten his escape. Bursting through the doors in front of him, Bruce swiftly opened the mental map in his mind and reconfigured his route to the office. If he ran diagonally through the main lobby, he would be inside the secretary’s office in no time…!

Provided it wasn’t locked!

The cautious thought did nothing to dispel his passion to reach his aim. Bruce tore through the lobby and when he reached the opposite side of it, the doors he had just closed opened up with an angry bang. The janitor was surprisingly agile given the age heard in his voice, but that did not mean he would succeed. Unsteady feet pounded against the ground, all while a young master Wayne had already skidded on the sparkling marble floor before the secretary’s office door and was more than relieved to see that it was unlocked still! He made sure to make a few noisy footsteps to make it sound as though he hadn’t just stopped before the first hiding spot he could find and kept going on his way. Right when his instincts warned him that his diversion was more than enough, he not only leapt into the room, but jumped over the desk.

Just when Bruce settled underneath, the janitor was heard grabbing onto the doorjamb in search of him. There was a moment of panic underneath his calm façade. A painful breath was trapped in the midst of his chest as he wondered if he would be caught for his overzealous belief that he could hide away in such an obvious place and win.

Apparently, the janitor only wanted to lock the door.

Bruce’s eyes opened wide momentarily, shocked at the logic of the old man who had literally trapped him in the very room he had been aiming for the entire time! It was thanks to his typically hated upon bravado that he was foolish enough to charge forth with his scheme, resulting with him rising from underneath the desk that should have the key to Headmaster Hammer’s office hidden in it somewhere. Admittedly, he was jittery with excitement to have made it so far; the usually stoic teen tore open all of the drawers he could see to the secretary’s desk and flipped through every folder, magazine and naughty romance novel she had stashed away, yet there was no key to be found.

To have the door he needed to unlock sitting at his back while he was looking at attendance sheets and pirates holding maidens by their waists was infuriating! In a moment of anger, Bruce shook the desk and watched as everything on top of it rattled instantly.

All accept the vase-shaped pencil holder.

Brow arched, Bruce ripped it off of the desk and stuck his fingers inside, digging around the pencils and pens in the hopes of finding his much-needed key—

The very one that was sitting in the middle of the ring of dust that the pencil holder had left on the desk.

The smirk that befell his face was almost mocking, with how unbelievably simple the security was at such a prestigious academy. He knew, for whatever reason, that if he had any secrets of his own, they’d be hidden behind at least thirty different kinds of security.

What was the point of hiding something that important if it was ripe for the taking, like that?

Bruce could only hope, as he shoved the key into its corresponding keyhole, that Diana’s information was just as poorly guarded. The Headmaster’s office was just as drab as he remembered it: a desk that sat before a window, and twenty or so cabinets of all sorts of files. Even with the power of the internet on the rise, it was quite clear to the tech savvy young man that the school had yet to consider a digital database for their students’ information. In all honesty, he could discern which method of obtaining his guardian angel’s file would have been easier.

Bruce saw a sticker above one of the many drawers labelled ‘P-T’ and he realised that he had his answer.

The drawer was heavy when he began to open it, and so he had to move slower as he dragged it on its track. There was a hefty smell of dust and paper when he began sifting through the ‘P’ section, passing by Pérez and Peter until he hit Prince. Surprisingly, there seemed to only be one person in the entire academy with the last name pertaining to royalty. Bruce ripped the thin folder from its place amongst the many others and rushed to the window. He knew to keep the lights in the room off in case someone spotted the office aglow and gave him even more to grief.

What he did not expect to give him such difficulty the very file he committed a felony to obtain.

GOTHAM ACADEMY STUDENT APPLICATION [Historia Vitae Magistra]

First Name: Diana

Last Name: Prince

Home Address: 2217 Massachusetts Ave NW, Washington, DC 20008, USA

Sex: Female

Age: 14 (D/O/B: December 31st, 1981)

Previous Education: Graduate of the Amazonian Academy in Themyscira, Greece. Class Representative.

GPA: 4.0

He had barely scanned over the basics of her information and already, Bruce was disturbed. How could a portfolio so clearly manufactured ever issue a student access to Gotham’s most elite prep school? There was no such place as Themyscira, not on any map of Greece he had ever seen! With a supposedly perfect GPA, and an English-based name for an evidently Greek girl, none of the facts presented on the paper in his hands felt coherent.

And he surmised all that without considering her unnatural wisdom for someone their age.

Despite his disbelief, he decided to press onward. Bruce believed that there was something telling in the folder he had snuck into the school for, and refused to leave until he found it! He skipped past her personal details – such as social security numbers and what not – until he reached a particularly interesting section.

Parent / Guardian

First Name: Antiope

Last Name: Prince

Occupation: Martial Arts Instructor

Place of Occupation: Amazonian Arena – Women’s Training Facility

Address: 2217 Massachusetts Ave NW, Washington, DC 20008, USA

It did not take a scientist to afford Gotham Academy, nor did it take one to know that a martial arts teacher could not pay the bills, either. Bruce didn’t understand the Amazonian theme – were they referring to the amazons of Greek myth? The ones that Hercules defeated? – but it only highlighted his suspicions of Diana’s entire existence. Seeing that address again also made him wonder how a girl went to school in Gotham City could have her residence listed in Washington, D.C.? Nothing in the file aside from their names made sense and in that moment, his head was swirling due to all of the misinformation he was being forced to digest.

That is, until he heard someone grab hold of the doorknob to the secretary’s office and reach for their keys.

Bruce’s head shot up at once. Was the janitor back, prepared to check the room thoroughly after running around the halls without finding the intruder? A rush of adrenaline kicking, Bruce scurried back over to the cabinet and slipped the folder back into place, in the small wedge of space he had been intelligent enough to leave for himself amongst the many others. He also managed to remind himself that – even though he could not put back the key – Headmaster Hammer’s door had been closed before he had tampered with it. His firm hand shot out and shut the door just as the janitor turned the key in the lock.

An escape was more of a necessity than ever before!

The only viable option, Bruce knew, was to jump out of the window he had been making use of not more than two seconds ago. It would be easier to pull himself through the window and leave it slightly ajar than it was to crawl through the one on the second floor, as he had earlier. He braced himself for the speed of his actions and tore open the awning crank and shot himself onto the snow-covered lawn. His nose met with the ground when he fell, but he chose to endure it, pick himself up, and find that bike of his! Once he got home to the manor, he could have hot cocoa and warm himself by the fire and—

The disappointed look on Alfred’s face as he exited Gotham Academy’s main entrance told him otherwise.

From the back of his precious car, the world’s most intuitive butler slammed down the lid of the trunk with a gloved hand. Bruce looked between his two options of transportation – the car with an angry butler or a bike he could pedal himself – only to realise that Alfred had most likely been standing at the trunk of his car because he had shoved his bike into it. Out of options and the fear of being caught ever on the rise, Bruce childishly whispered with an unfair rage, “Al-fred!”

All his butler did was chuckle at his distress, but not with any sort of mirth, oh no. There was darkness in his tone, the sort that suited Gotham City. It gave Bruce a chill worse than any tumble into the snow could have and it was more haunting than the fear of being caught by the janitor. But he said not a word as he climbed into the driver’s seat and turned on his car, sans the headlights required for night time driving. It was a curious decision, unless he was planning to help his charge escape.

Bruce did not wait to find out and threw himself into the back seat of the car, slamming the door shut as if all of his stealth was stolen away by his guardian the moment they had locked eyes. “Drive, drive!” he ordered while slapping the cushion of his own seat repeatedly.

“One would assume that I came here for that very reason.” Sassed the old man. He applied such light pressure to the gas pedal as he spoke.

Riled beyond reason, Bruce argued reflexively, “You shouldn’t have just shown up like that! I had everything under control.”

“Oh? And what exactly did you have control of?” The question had every intention of pinning him down, and it absolutely did.

Bruce frowned, unable to say a word. The feeling of being stumped after achieving such a victory as reviewing Diana’s file was utterly preposterous in his mind, and yet, Alfred always managed to make the impossible possible. “I just left a book at school.”

Without missing a beat, as per usual, Alfred shot right back, “And I see that you left your sense at home, if you think I would believe that for even a moment.”

“…I could have.”

In the rear view mirror, Bruce could see that his guardian wanted to chuckle at his weak retort. He refrained however – ever formal – and maintained his parental demeanour. “Well, what you will be doing, as a form of repentance, is inviting that lovely young lady to dinner tomorrow night.”

The mere idea nearly left him speechless. “W…What!?”

Nodding, Alfred explained, “You have wronged us both in one day, and so you shall make it up to us the next day; you were unnecessarily rude to a sweet young lady and you thought it wise to sneak out of the house and lie to me about your motivations. Hence, I shall be setting the table for three for our Thanksgiving dinner and Miss…?”

“Diana Prince.”

“Miss Prince will get to try that pie I offered to her earlier. Am I being clear, Master Bruce?”

Gritting his teeth, Bruce said, grumbling, “Crystal.”

At least he could prove is something was real inside that folder of hers: the phone number he had memorised right before putting everything back.

((A/N: Sooo much is going on in this one! First off, this story takes place directly after Part V, which is what I always planned. Bruce shows off his pre-Batman skills by being a pain in the ass sneaking into Gotham Academy to learn more about Diana through lies through hard work! The two name he reads when looking through the folders are both Wonder Woman artists~ 

Antiope will be in the Wonder Woman movie, but OMG does she have a tragic story… She just made the most sense as Diana’s guardian, but we will see Menallipe at some point~ Oh, and Diana’s birthday is her debut as a superhero, back in 1941! Phew, well, I hope you enjoyed this instalment of my Gotham Academy AU and get ready for more because there is another prompt for it in my inbox! ~ Maiden))