#ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY REBECCA HALL

[adm-starblitzsteel-4305]

It's May 3 so...

Happy Birthday Rebecca Hall!!!

[janamelie]

Dimension Jump XXI Report

I suppose I’m a DJ veteran now as this was my fifth consecutive one and the fourth at the Nottingham Crowne Plaza which is an expensive four-star hotel.  Sharing with a friend helps keep the cost reasonable and honestly, it’s worth it for the sheer convenience of being right there in the hotel and being able to nip back to your room as required.  (To be clear, you don’t have to stay in the hotel to attend the con.  There are plenty of other hotels nearby.)

Plus there is always the chance that you’ll see a guest at breakfast as I did Danny once.  He picked out a few pieces of fruit and nibbled at them before wandering over late to his photoshoot.  What else would you expect from a cat though?

Friday

Myself and @downonthepharm-red-dwarf (Amy) had arrived the previous day so had plenty of time to be near the front of the queue for registration.  Which meant we saw Hattie Hayridge arrive in a stunning designer coat and with smart luggage.  She really brought her outfit A-game and looked great the whole weekend.

Once we’d presented our respective proofs of full Covid vaccination or a recent negative test, we were given our DJ passes and booklets.  The latter has spaces for signatures from guests, an Order Of Events and various handy tips for the weekend.

The con kicks off at 5pm with an hour of gradual build-up in the Main Hall - they show videos from previous events, specially made titbits with various guests past and present such as Mark Dexter doing a mock guide to DJ and Rebecca Blackstone voicing Pree.  It all helps with the atmosphere, as do the numerous RD posters dotted around the hotel.

Then it was time for the Opening Ceremony featuring various Fan Club team members and an overcrowded stage full of cardboard boxes - the joke was that they’d had too much time on their hands during lockdowns and bought loads of stuff online.  It was obviously also a nod to Lister’s hoarding in “The Promised Land”.  

The sketch featured a specially made shot of the AA adverts’ Starbug model landing outside the Crowne Plaza and an 80s computerised version of the lovely convention logo.  You could tell a lot of loving effort had gone into the whole thing.

Once the guest line-up had been announced (I’ll get to that not-really-a-surprise-guest shortly), we went straight into the RD Pub Quiz, hosted by Hattie.  DOTP and I had been joined at our table by Lapsang and Barbs from our Discord (No Kind Of Atmosphere) plus various other attendees we’d befriended.

Someone in the crowd yelled “I love you, Hattie!” to which she quipped “I’ve pulled already!”  Another bloke shouted “Fuck off, she’s mine!” which led to a few shouts of “Fight!”  When neither seemed keen to do so, Hattie joked: “Only two?  That’s a bit pathetic!” and then we got started.

The quiz is hard, by design, but I’m good at quizzes and my team - No Kind Of Atmosphere after our Discord - came joint third which was gratifying.  (I was on the winning team a few DJs ago, to blow my own trumpet for a moment.  This is my report, after all.)

And then it was time for the first guest Q&A with - surprise, surprise - Johnny Vegas aka the Crit Cop in “Timewave”.  Not a great episode but he more than made up for that with an appearance I can only describe as chaotic.  Warning - DO NOT attempt to heckle him unless you want to be singled out and humiliated in front of the entire audience in a “Can’t look away” fashion which was nonetheless entertaining.  The man in question tweeted about it afterwards and seems to have taken it in good spirit.

Once we’d moved on from encouraging people to leave unpleasant things in room 429, it turned out Johnny’s a big fan of the show and owned it on VHS (so did I).  He thinks of the main characters, Holly would win at “Taskmaster” and had good reasons for that conclusion.  

He was dubious about the pink costume he wore in “Timewave” as he thought it might take away from the character but said he eventually decided he needed to get over what he was wearing and just go for it.  He also said one of his worst working moments was on “Benidorm” when he had to hold his breath underwater in a freezing swimming pool and his co-star kept forgetting her two lines so they had over 30 takes.  Ouch.

Johnny left commenting that he got less love at his 50th birthday party.  But we hadn’t seen the last of him by any means as people kept buying him drinks during the Auction, leading to him successfully bidding for one of the items on offer.

And then he was back for the Karaoke.  Now if you - as he informed us - had to undergo emergency dental surgery in the morning and had practically lost your voice, would you sing karaoke?  And not only that, would you sing a version of “Love On The Rocks” which lasted 11 minutes according to someone on Twitter (I wasn’t timing it, but I can believe it), followed by the full-length version of “American Pie”?

If you answered no, you’re clearly not Johnny Vegas.  He went to bed so late that the unfortunate Fan Club team member assigned to look after him got a grand total of 90 minutes’ sleep.

Saturday

DOTP and I had paid for the Photoshoot with Mr Vegas, Danny John-Jules and Ray Fearon.  We got in the queue at 9am which was when it was supposed to start.  An hour later we were still waiting.  Yep, Danny was late.

Once he made it to the hotel, I got my photo in front of a Science Room backdrop.  You might think Mr Vegas would be hungover and rushing through it, but on the contrary, he was still enjoying the hell out of proceedings which was refreshing to see.  Since he’d been added to the line-up too late to be in the souvenir booklet, he signed extra inserts for the Fan Club which they handed out to everyone at the later Autograph sessions so attendees got his autograph after all even though he’d finally left.  That’s what I call throwing yourself into an event.

Next up was a combined Q&A with Danny and Ray (originally separate but Danny’s lateness meant they were teamed up).  This wasn’t a problem at all though - on the contrary, it worked really well as the chumminess between them added to the vibe.  Also it was Ray’s first convention so he probably preferred to have Danny backing him up, especially since the poor man tripped on his way to the stage and almost fell.  I don’t think he was hurt but I cringed with secondhand embarrassment and empathy.  He wasn’t the only one to fall foul of the edge of the stage that weekend; I think it was the slightly raised dancefloor in front of it.

As is usual for Danny, we were treated to over half an hour of what you can only really describe as a stream of consciousness as he pontificated about various things.  He and Ray did also talk about working together on “Death In Paradise” and Ray described his worst working experience there - he had to play a scene in a club in 45 degree heat with a live snake wrapped around his neck!

Ray is attractive in a “Hollywood hunk” way and Danny was clearly conscious of this, joking that he’d “brought his own security with him” and muttering “I’m better-looking anyway!”  But all in a jokey way as they’re clearly friends.

Danny had come from filming and dropped a heavy hint that he’s appearing in a Dickens adaptation which I imagine will be shown at Christmas as they generally are.  He also complained that Craig Charles never answers his phone: “You send him a message and he answers it on Twitter a month later!”  (Interestingly, Chris Barrie later mentioned a recent phone conversation with Craig so make of that what you will.)

Ray was quieter but happy to talk about the vagaries of showbiz and typecasting - he said that due to his Shakespearean background he gets a lot of serious roles so people were genuinely surprised that he could also do comedy but “I was always funny!”  He also gently teased Danny about the age of some of his references before admitting he still finds Tommy Cooper funny.

Danny usually performs “Tongue-tied” with a good grace when inevitably asked to by an audience member but perhaps it’s finally starting to pall as this time he did it in the style of Oliver Reed’s Bill Sykes and included a lot of X-rated references to cunnilingus etc.  It was entertaining though.

Next up was a live Q&A (over Zoom) with Chris Barrie.  Danny decided to stick around as he wanted to show Chris something he’d ordered online.  It took a while to get the cameras in the right position for Chris to be able to see it and Danny needed a knife to open the parcel, leading Chris to quip “Is this a good time for me to step out for some lunch?”

However, it turned out to be worth it as it was a custom-made Ace Rimmer doll which impressed Chris with its quality and he complimented the maker.

Danny and Ray then departed for their lunch and to take part in the Coffee Lounge which this year had reduced its numbers for Covid-related reasons and held a ballot for entry in the interests of fairness.  Amy and I didn’t get in but happily stayed for the rest of Chris’s Q&A.

In the “working from home” spirit, Chris was in a hoodie in his living room as opposed to his more usual smart suit.  He was suitably relaxed and revealed he got through lockdown by concentrating on the things which make him happy, such as his hobbies, his garden and his family.  His favourite episodes are “Marooned”, “Dimension Jump” and - less predictably - “Twentica”.  He also referred to a recent “mannerly, as he would call it” phone conversation with Craig.  No details but it had clearly been a positive experience.

Amy decided to liven up the ending of his Q&A by asking a vitally important, “TPL”-related question.  Whom would Rimmer find more attractive, a female version of Lister or a female version of Cat?

Once the laughter had died down and Chris had bought some time by pointing out that “neither of them are women”, he gave the question appropriate consideration.  He pondered whether Rimmer would be more taken by the “simple charms” of Lister or the “feline grace” of Cat.  This next bit is courtesy of Amy as my memory isn’t infallible: He said it’d be a choice between a feline form or a rounder, a bit more slovenly woman - he wouldn’t want the perfectly feline woman because she might not like his imperfections, but he also wouldn’t want someone who ate curry three times a day.  “Basically, a balance would be ideal.”

That was the last question but Chris provided a little more entertainment as he had a “How do you turn this off then?” moment a la Gordon the computer in “Better Than Life” and made amusing faces as he figured it out.  If it was anyone but Chris I’d think it was a deliberate reference to that but I think he was genuinely befuddled.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Autographs with Hattie, Danny, Ray and Norman Lovett.  I got the latter three to sign the “TPL” poster I’d brought with me but gave Hattie the booklet instead as it seemed more tactful.  She complimented the dress I was wearing and I returned the compliment, telling her how much the fans appreciate the effort she makes with her DJ outfits.

Norman commented how there’s a version of the “TPL” poster he isn’t on, bemusedly.  Fortunately mine was the version including him. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon chilling in the bar with Amy, Lapsang and Barbs, chatting to other attendees.  Graphic Designer Matthew Clark was now in the Merchandise Room with various props from Series XII and “TPL” including the Starbug manual used onscreen.  I got his autograph on my poster but it’s an incomprehensible squiggle.  Oh well.  He was very friendly and easy to talk to.

After a break for dinner, the Main Hall reopened for the Costume Competition.  This seems to get better every DJ, with an amazing “Greyscale Rimmer” who was discomfiting to be around due to the corpse-like makeup, a Natalina Pushkin, a Nirvanah Crane who could almost have been Jane Horrocks herself and a Diving Suit Cat from “BTE”.  Other entries included Rimmer’s Mum, “Giraffes who were armed and dangerous” and a Confidence And Paranoia who were later pictured at the bar chatting to Paranoia himself, Lee Cornes.

We then had a special video message from Doug Naylor which I won’t go into as I’m sure everyone’s already heard the details.  Suffice to say, his tone was positive.

The second Auction was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who made it more entertaining by adding his own commentary to each item.  This was followed by a stand-up set from Norman.  It was amusing but he misjudged the mood a bit, I feel.  When you’re waiting for a disco to start and it’s already hours late due to Danny’s tardiness, you don’t particularly want to contemplate your own mortality.  We were here to get away from all that, as much as possible.

Anyway, the Disco was a lot of fun even if Dave Benson Phillips’ presence as host was sorely missed.  Hattie danced for the best part of an hour alongside everyone else.  The stand-in DJs did their job and I stayed until the end.  The final two songs were “Bohemian Rhapsody” and … “Tongue-tied”.

Sunday

Not being in the Sunday Photoshoot, Amy and I had a nice leisurely breakfast and got over last night’s festivities before the first Q&A, live over Zoom with Robert Llewellyn.

This was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who in his capacity as Dave era audience warm-up knows Robert well.  Clearly well enough to get away with teasing him relentlessly about not being at the con in person until poor Robert was a mess of Krytenesque guilt.  

His protestations that he’d been scheduled to be in Munich this weekend but no longer was (he was at home) only made things worse.  Ian: “Oh, so that’s two sets of people you’ve disappointed now!  Stop saying yes to things!”  It was hilarious and Robert took it in its intended spirit.  Also Ian was getting a measure of revenge for Robert - in character as Kryten - dry humping him at recordings.  One attendee asked “With the groinal attachment?!”

Robert admitted that he finds Kryten’s various groinal attachments hilarious and if he was writing the show they’d be in every episode.  He praised Doug’s restraint.

He also admitted that in “TPL” he had an earpiece to have his lines fed to him.  Since it’s controlled by an iPad, certain unscrupulous cast members took great delight in feeding him rude ones.

He still intends to update “The Man In The Rubber Mask” but atm “Fully Charged” is consuming a lot of his time as it’s become much more successful than he anticipated and he’s in charge of several people.

Surprisingly, he would hate appearing in RD without the Kryten makeup, both because it’s become much quicker to apply and because it provides him with a shield and he becomes Kryten and forgets stagefright.  He still can’t watch “DNA” for that reason.

Lapsang, who played Kryten in “Into The Gloop”, asked Robert if he’d seen it.  He hadn’t but said he was now very curious and would find a way to.

Next up was Lee Cornes aka Paranoia who said he originally auditioned for the lead roles and like the other unsuccessful actors got the consolation prize of a guest appearance.  Upon being asked if he’d gone out for a drink with Craig Ferguson’s Confidence, he said no because at the time they had a frosty relationship due to rumours that Craig was plagiarising other comics’ jokes.  Lee said it was all very silly and he’s since apologised.

Interestingly, Lee is a qualified science teacher and carried on with that career alongside his media one, leading to surreal situations where his pupils would ask: “Sir?  Were you on the telly last night?”  “Yes.”  “Are we on the telly now, sir?”

Someone asked a good question - what would Lister’s Paranoia be like now 33 years later?  Lee would be willing to reprise the role but isn’t sure it would work as the original had a childish quality whereas he feels now the character would be a lot darker and less funny.  Lee was both thoughtful and entertaining in his responses.

He was followed onstage by Hattie and Norman, who resolutely refused to rise to the bait of an audience member attempting to stir up a rivalry between them.  That only works when one isn’t the nicest person you could meet.

A tactless audience member asked both if they’d watched “TPL” instead of directing the question at Norman.  Luckily Hattie had seen it and particularly enjoyed the cat flap joke although she felt there was a little too much focus on the guest cast.

Norman didn’t really watch RD after he left but Hattie has seen Norman’s early episodes as he lent them to her back when she was originally cast as Hilly for research purposes.  Bear in mind this was 1988 when they weren’t even available on VHS so presumably he recorded them off the TV.  

Hattie confirmed with a sigh that she’s simply never been asked to return in any capacity: “That’s the short answer.”  What the hell, I’ll say it one more time - Bring Back Hattie!  One episode, that’s all I ask.  As it stands, it’s starting to look like a pointed and deliberate snub which mystifies me.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Rob Grant and Paul Jackson.  For obvious reasons they didn’t go into the current legal mess, opting instead to entertain the fans with the story of how they met and their early pre-RD work (Rob and Doug as freelance writers for Paul’s producer).

We saw some clips from their early shows including “Three Of A Kind” with Lenny Henry, Tracy Ullman and … later magician David Copperfield; apparently they all had the same agent and Paul took on David as a favour.  For a 40 year old show it held up pretty well and was in much better sound and picture quality than older shows often are. “Carrott’s Lib” was just as funny.

It’s a bit hard to summarise but this session was entertaining and gripping.  Rob still wants to write another RD novel and I believe there’s nothing actually stopping him as both he and Doug had an option to write a second solo novel.  So we’ll see.

The final Q&A was Matthew Clark who was very informative and interesting, showing us numerous production stills from Series XII and “TPL” and talking us through them.  There was a groan when time was called before he was finished.

By now time was running short and Amy and I went back to the room to pack and leave our luggage with reception before watching the start of “Dibbley Family Fortunes”. Since I knew I wouldn’t have time to watch it all, I instead nipped upstairs to Autographs with Lee and Ian, timing it perfectly as the queue had almost vanished.

Ian was still performing, drawing scornful attention to the fact that Lee had a longer queue: “Can you imagine all these people queueing to see Lee Cornes?!”  It sounds rude out of context but he was clearly joking.

I decided to ask Lee what flavour the yogurt Paranoia eats was.  He said it didn’t really taste of anything as it was the cheapest, nastiest canteen yogurt available and was also starting to curdle under the studio lights so eating it can’t have been much fun.

Since I now had about 15 minutes before I had to go, I caught a bit of Dibbley Family Fortunes, said goodbye to Amy, Lapsang and Barbs and then dashed off to catch the tram to the train station.  Another great DJ.

[lblb-actuallywrites]

Princess Pino’s Birthday

My fic for the Edens Zero Big Bang, to go with @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate ‘s lovely artwork. Have some Weicca, with a side of Weisz-Pino Brotp.

~~~

“Oh, but you have to come to my birthday party, Mr. Weisz! Say you will, pleeeeeease?”

Weisz chuckled at the memory as he finished buttoning up his shirt.

‘A personal invitation when there’s already an open invitation to the public,’ he thought. ‘I’ll never understand that kid.’

He’d been in the middle of designing a new piece of tech with Hermit when the Princess of Granbell Kingdom burst through the door.

“Mr. Weisz, Miss Hermit! You know what next week is, don’t you?” she spun around the lab as she shouted, skillfully hopping around the machine parts and workshop debris like a bunny.

Hermit turned away from the blueprints in front of her, smiling wide. “I sure do!”

“No? What’s next week?” he raised an eyebrow in false confusion.

“It’s my birthday! I’m turning eleven, remember?”

“Eleven already? Geez, you’re ancient!”

Pino pouted briefly, before her excitement took over. “I’m gonna have a biiig party!” She spun on her toes with her arms out. “Everyone will be there, it’ll be so fun!”

“Really? Everyone, huh?” Weisz asked.

“Yeah. And that means you and Miss Hermit, too. You’ll be there, right?” she asked, clasping her hands together.

Hermit smiled. “Of course.”

Weisz feigned reluctance. “I don’t know. We’ve got a lot of work to do here.”

“Oh, but you have to come to my birthday party, Mr. Weisz! Say you will, pleeeeeease?” she begged, tugging on his arm.

Weisz looked at the giggling princess and couldn’t pretend anymore. “Yeah, sure thing, kid.”

“Yay!”

Weisz straightened his collar as he thought about having to socialize for hours on end.

‘Eh, I’ll find a way to ditch and go back to work.’

Just as he began to regret accepting Pino’s invitation- he was never not going to make an appearance at the party, but he should’ve at least been smart and not given her any expectations- his thoughts turned to a certain Nobleman’s blonde daughter.

’At least she’ll be there.’

Weisz watched in the mirror as his face rapidly turned pink. Then he shook his head, clearing that thought from his mind as he walked out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

Happy meowed indignantly.

“Too bad, cat! You need to get off Pino’s present so I can finish wrapping it.”

The blue feline grumbled at being moved from his chosen spot. Not one to be inconvenienced, he took his revenge by walking across Rebecca’s hands as she tried to wrap the handmade bow, nearly tearing the paper in the process.

“Get. Off,” she said firmly, tossing him to the floor. He grumbled and sulked out of her bedroom and towards the sun room in defeat.

Rebecca finished wrapping and tied a ribbon around it. Sighing, she walked over to her mirror and fidgeted with her bangs.

‘I wonder how long it’ll be before Weisz tries to ditch the party,’ she thought, chuckling to herself.

Looking at her reflection, Rebecca realized that, in messing with her bangs, she only succeeded in pushing them too far to the side. She combed through them with her fingers, reshaping them over and over again, to disappointing results.

Rebecca groaned and shook her head, resetting her bangs. Opening her eyes, though, she found that they’d fallen more towards the center instead of pushed to the side, and her curly hair was half-draped over one shoulder.

She took her hand away and stepped back to look at her full reflection. The pin in her ash blonde hair matched her dark blue halter top and detached sleeves, and with her new bang style, black jeans, and boots, she liked the ensemble even more.

‘I wonder what he would think.’

The thought had her turning her head away from the mirror and her cheeks blushing bright red. Her hand moved to fidget with her bangs again, but she forced herself to stop in time to avoid ruining them.

Before she could let her nerves ruin something else about her outfit, Rebecca grabbed Pino’s present and left for the castle.

~~~~~~~~~~

Homura stood in the hallway outside the royal bed chambers, her back and shoulders perfectly straight, waiting for the Prince and Princess to leave their rooms for the party. Her red and orange shirt was in pristine condition, no wrinkles or creases to be found.

The bedroom door to her right opened and Prince Shiki stepped out, adjusting his wrist cuffs.

“Allow me, your Highness,” Homura said as he stopped next to her.

Wordlessly, Shiki offered her his wrist. As she fixed his cuff, she stared at the shape of it, the Crest of Granbell Kingdom: a heart with a dot in the middle, resting soundly in the crevice of two horns. It clicked into place and she stepped back.

“Thanks, Homura!” Shiki said with a bright smile. “You ready for the party?”

“I am prepared.” She nodded, clasping her hands together in front of her.

“‘Prepared’ makes it sound like a mission, not a party,” he chuckled.

She nodded again. “Duly noted.”

“I like your shirt.”

Homura stiffened. “Thank you,” she said, semi-monotone.

“I really like the ocean waves at the bottom.”

A blush rose on Homura’s cheeks, getting brighter the longer Shiki focused on her outfit. She brought her hand up over her mouth out of habit.

The sound of a door down the hall opening interrupted Homura’s embarrassment. It was Princess Pino’s bedroom door, and she came bounding down the hall at Shiki.

“Hi big brother!” she yelled, tackling him.

Shiki caught her easily. “Hey Pino! Happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday, your Highness.”

“Thanks!”

“Princess,” a smooth voice spoke from down the hall. “You need to get dressed for your party.”

It was Witch, the “Shield” of Granbell Kingdom and the Princess’s personal guard. Her long, green hair was tied back in a loose french braid that swung lightly behind her as she walked.

“Okay, Miss Witch!” Pino said, releasing her brother from her iron grip.

“Hello, Prince Shiki, Lady Homura.”

“Hey, Witch,” Shiki said with a small wave.

“Good Morning.” Homura nodded.

“Come, now, Princess,” she said softly, her hand placed gently on top of Pino’s head.

Pino nodded and spun around, waving to her brother. “I’ll see you at the party!”

He smiled. “Sure will, kiddo.”

“Yay!” she clapped her hands together, smiling brightly as she ran back down the hall.

Shiki looked back at Homura and met her eyes.

“Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~

As Pino ate her curry burger breakfast that morning, she couldn’t sit still; kicking her legs and bouncing in her seat, it was enough to catch her grandfather’s attention.

“Excited?” King Ziggy asked.

“Mhm! I can’t wait!”

Ziggy smiled as she took the last few bites of her food, jumping out of her chair and running to the door. Witch, who had been standing diligently in the corner, followed her to her room.

“Alright, Princess. It’s time to get ready. Your guests will be arriving soon,” she said, gently closing the door behind her.

“Are you excited, Miss Witch? Everyone’s gonna be here!” Pino jumped backwards onto her bed.

“Inviting the entire Capital City to the castle for a birthday party is sure to have interesting results. I look forward to it.”

She sat up. “I thought it would be cool for everyone to see it! And it’s more fun with more people, anyway. It’s such a big place, but there’s never anyone here.”

Witch smiled. “Your kindness and consideration for others is admirable, Princess.”

“Thank you!”

Her head snapped to the side at the sound of voices in the hall, looking at the door before leaping off her bed and running out the door. Witch sighed in amusement and followed after the rambunctious birthday girl.

“Hi, big brother!” Pino yelled, launching herself at Shiki.

He caught her easily as he and Homura gave their ‘Happy Birthdays.’ Witch smiled at the scene. She’d always appreciated the bond the two siblings shared.

“Thanks!” Pino said.

She hated to ruin the moment, but time was of the essence. “Princess,” she spoke as she walked down the hall towards them. “You need to get dressed for your party.”

“Okay, Miss Witch!” Pino said, letting Shiki go.

“Hello, Prince Shiki, Lady Homura.”

“Hey Witch.”

“Good morning.”

“Come now, Princess,” she said calmly, resting her hand on top of her head.

She spun around and waved to her brother. “I’ll see you at the party!”

Shiki smiled. “Sure will, kiddo.”

“Yay!” she clapped her hands together, smiling brightly as she ran back down the hall.

“Princess, you need to focus,” Witch lightly admonished her as she followed the bouncing girl into her room.

“I’m excited!”

“I know,” Witch hummed in amusement. “But it’s almost time for you to be ready for your guests.”

Pino skipped to her wardrobe. Witch stood behind her as she flung the doors open, trailing back and forth in front of it, examining her options.

She chuckled at the ecstatic princess marching in front of her wardrobe, looking at each article of clothing with a critical eye, like a general to their soldiers. An illusion only enhanced by the contrast of her spinning on her toes to turn around when she got to either end of the closet.

“I got it!” Pino said, grabbing a white and blue dress shirt and matching skirt, black leggings, short brown boots and a yellow necktie with a heart on it.

“An excellent choice, Princess,” Witch said.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay! We’re all gonna play hide and seek!” Pino said to the silent crowd below her. “You’ll all hide in the castle and the courtyard, and I’ll find you!”

The people exchanged tiny whispers and confused glances, the slightest murmurs of which drifted up to the balcony.

“Participation is mandatory,” King Ziggy’s deep voice silenced the crowd’s whispering, paired with a serious look in his eye, before looking back at his granddaughter and returning her bright smile.

“Okay, everyone, go hide! And good luck!”

Rebecca reached forward and grabbed Weisz’s wrist as he started moving.

“You’re coming with me,” Rebecca stated. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m not gonna let you sit somewhere you can easily be found just so you can say you participated. You’re going to actually participate. Play like you wanna win.” She dragged him towards the hall.

“Rebecca!”

She ignored him.

“Rebecca, wait!”

No answer.

“Seriously?”

Still nothing.

Weisz groaned. “Fine.”

Only then did Rebecca turn around and acknowledge him with a satisfied smile.

“Good. Now come on, I know a good place to hide.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Shiki and I found this place years ago. I don’t know what it was supposed to be, but it never gets used anymore.”

Weisz helped her move the tapestry, behind which was panelling nearly indistinguishable from the wall it sat in. Rebecca pushed on it, then slid it to the side.

Behind the panelling was a dark tunnel that stretched beyond where the light reached.

“I’m coming to find you!” Pino’s gleeful voice sang from the PA speakers.

“Come on, let’s go,” Rebecca said, stepping into the tunnel.

Weisz rolled his eyes and followed her.

It was a tighter fit than he had expected; the tunnel was narrow, only a few feet wide, and Weisz was almost too tall to fit inside, with only an inch or two of clearance above his head.

“Great hiding place you picked here, Rebecca.”

“Yeah, I remembered it being bigger,” she said as she settled her back against the wall. Weisz leaned against the opposite wall.

“Now what?” he asked, turning to face her. He froze when he realized there was only about a foot of space between them, maybe less. With nowhere to go to widen the gap, he was glad it was pitch black in the tunnel so Rebecca couldn’t see the bright red blush he was certain was spreading across his entire face.

“Well there’s nothing to do but wait for Pino to find us or the game to be over.”

“Yeah, which is exactly why I wanted to get found quickly and then go back to my workshop.”

“Boo hoo. It’s not so bad. It’s not like we have to sit in silence or anything,” she said.

“Won’t voices coming from inside the wall be a dead giveaway?”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to be found quickly.”

He couldn’t see Rebecca, but the tone of her voice told Weisz she was raising a smug eyebrow at him.

“Shut up. You’re the one who wants to take this seriously,” he said, turning his head away from her.

Rebecca chuckled. He turned his head back, staring at the place he assumed her face was, conjuring her image in his mind.

“So, what’s it like working with Hermit?” she asked.

“It’s fine. She gets on my nerves a lot, but I think it helps in the long run that we piss each other off. Spite is one hell of a motivator and source of inspiration.”

Rebecca chuckled again. Weisz’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah, you’ve always been like that.”

“Like what?”

“Not a people person.”

“What’s so great about people?” he asked sarcastically.

“There’s a lot to like when you’re not being shy.”

“Wha- I’m not shy, I’ve never been.”

Rebecca snorted. “Okay.”

“I’m not!”

“Even when we were little, you would rather play with machines than kids your own age.”

“Well machines tend to be more interesting and less talkative than people.”

“That’s a sad life, Weisz.”

“Shut up.”

Rebecca laughed again, louder than before, and Weisz thought that he might just be able to listen to that sound forever and never get tired of hearing it.

“Hey,” she said when she calmed down.

“Hm?”

“Do you remember when we first met?”

“Of course I do. You wouldn’t leave me alone until I played that stupid game with you, Shiki, and Homura.”

“Oh, bull! You wanted to play, you’re just a shy boy who couldn’t admit it.”

“I was not.”

“Whatever, tsundere.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Rebecca burst out laughing again. “It means you’re shy as hell.”

Weisz groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Toasted marshmallow boy.”

“I hate you,” he chuckled.

“And the way you acted around Homura is the textbook definition of a tsundere with a crush.”

“I never had a crush on Homura.”

“M’kay,” she said, her tone very clear about how little she believed him.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes again.

“I didn’t, but whatever.”

“You’re kinda cute when you’re in denial, y’know.”

The air in Weisz’s lungs evaporated and he struggled to breathe, nearly choking on his sudden lack of oxygen.

“You okay?” Rebecca asked. Weisz imagined her raising her eyebrow.

He cleared his throat. “Y-yeah.”

The calm in the air was replaced with a silence nearly as thick as the darkness they sat in.

‘Cute? She didn’t mean it like that, though.’

It was Rebecca’s turn to clear her throat. “So, um… yeah..”

On the other side of the wall, distant footsteps were walking down the corridor towards their hiding spot. Though the tunnel was still pitch black and silent, Weisz could feel Rebecca’s tension; He was surprised to find he was a little tense, too.

“There’s no way she’ll find us,” Rebecca whispered confidently.

“If that’s even her.”

They waited with bated breath, listening to the footsteps grow louder as they moved down the hall towards their hiding spot.

They stopped breathing entirely when the footsteps did, just on the other side of the wall. The lack of noise in the hall only made their breathing and racing hearts seem louder.

Weisz glanced in Rebecca’s direction; though they couldn’t see each other, he knew that she was looking at him, too. His racing heart surprised him, and he didn’t know if that was because of the possibility of being found, or because Rebecca called him cute.

It could’ve been either, and he decided not to look too deeply at the implications of the latter.

Eventually, the footsteps on the other side of the wall moved on, going further down the hall and away from their hiding spot.

Weisz and Rebecca let out a collective sigh of relief when they couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore.

Rebecca chuckled quietly. “You’re so into this.”

“Shut up.”

The sudden light was blinding.

“I found you!” Pino’s voice sang from the entrance.

“What? How? We heard you walk down the hall!”

Rebecca’s indignance at losing a children’s game was only irritating to Weisz because he was indignant, too.

“Oh, that was Witch. I knew this tunnel was here, Shiki showed me forever ago. So I decided to trick you!” Pino explained, as bright as ever.

“An excellent idea,” Witch said proudly as she walked back towards the tunnel. “Truly worthy of a Princess.” She patted Pino on the head. 

Rebecca groaned and Weisz made his way out of the cramped and dark tunnel, stretching as he did. He wasn’t sad to put it back behind the tapestry where it belonged.

“Damn,” Rebecca sighed as she stepped into the hall. “I was hoping we were gonna stay hidden for a little while longer.”

‘She just wanted to win the game,’ he reminded himself

“You wanted to stay hiding in that tunnel with Weisz?” Pino asked.

Her question was innocent enough, but there was something about it that Weisz didn’t like; the tiniest glint in her eye, the smallest twitch of the corner of her mouth.

‘She’s always been too clever for her own good.’

“I-I wanted us to be the last ones found! Or at least as close to it as possible. I really thought we were gonna get more mileage out of that hiding place,” she said, dejectedly crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well everyone I found so far is going back to the ballroom. Grandpa said the food would be set out, so you can eat now.”

“And suddenly I don’t mind losing so much.”

Weisz chuckled at Rebecca’s obsession with all things edible. “You do that, I’m gonna go back to my workshop.”

“You don’t wanna stay?” Pino asked, her eyes widening. “You’re not hungry or anything?”

“Look, kid, I told you, Hermit and I have a lot of work to do. I’ll make another appearance later, okay?”

Pino’s expression completely redefined the phrase ‘turn that frown upside-down.’

“Okay! But you have to promise.”

Weisz chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Weisz made his promised reappearance in the ballroom. The crowd seemed a bit thinner, though not by much.

He scanned the room, looking for Pino, and found her playing with city kids her own age near the kitchen doors. Moving towards her, he stole a mini biscuit off the table to pop in his mouth.

It was at that moment when Pino looked up and saw him, running over to him as best she could through the thick crowd.

“You came back!”

“I told you I would. Didn’t you believe me?”

“Of course I did! But I’m still happy you’re here,” she said, with a bright smile to match.

Weisz patted her head. “Well, I guess I can stay for a while,” he said, feigning reluctance. “You go back to your friends over there, they’re probably more fun to hang out with than me.”

“That’s not true at all! Oh, but I should, we were talking.”

“Go on, kid. You can hang out with me whenever you want.”

“You mean it?! I can come hang out with you and Miss Hermit in your workshop, too?”

‘Opportunistic little shit.’

“Eh heh… Only if you be careful around the equipment. And only if we’re not too busy.”

He had a strong feeling that, even with these vague guidelines, he’d just bitten off way more than he could chew.

“Yay! Okay, I’ll see you later, Mr. Weisz.” With a final wave, she made her way back through the crowd to the city kids.

Weisz shook his head. In doing so, he caught sight of Rebecca, chatting in the corner with Homura and Shiki. Even at this distance, her smile made his heart skip a beat. Immediately following this heart anomaly, it became way too hot for comfort in the ballroom.

It wasn’t until he stepped out on the balcony that he could breathe and relax. The cool dusk air was soothing, and the view of the sun setting over the city, casting it in a golden glow, was not one to be missed.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ he thought. ‘Why am I so focused on Rebecca? Do I… Do I really-’

“Hey, Weisz,” Rebecca’s voice spoke from behind him, interrupting his train of thought.

He jumped slightly, his shoulders hunching up. He forced them back down in an attempt to look normal and unaffected. “Hey.”

She moved to stand beside him, tapping her fingers lightly on the railing as she did. Her back was ramrod straight, much more rigid than normal.

‘Why do I know that?’

The implications were adding up, and Weisz wasn’t sure if he was prepared for the final solution.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet “I, um…” she cleared her throat. “I… had fun.. t-today, um…”

Her eyes were closed tightly, her tension palpable in the air that occupied the space between them. It was somehow both too much space and too little.

“Uh, yeah, me too. Surprisingly.”

She hummed in amusement. Another tense, awkward silence followed. No matter how hard he tried, Weisz’s shoulders wouldn’t stay down and his muscles refused to relax.

Rebecca took a deep breath, leaned her head back, and groaned at the sky before bending over and laying her forehead on the balcony railing.

“Why is this so hard?” she muttered, just barely loud enough for Weisz to hear.

The question wasn’t directed at him, but he responded anyway. “What is?”

She stood up. “I-” she sighed, scratching the back of her head. “I just- I… likeyou.”

She spoke quickly, and her voice was barely above a whisper, but her words had Weisz’s shoulders hunched all the way up to the moon that was just starting to appear in the sky all the same.

“What?”

Rebecca turned her face away from him and gripped the rail in front of her tightly. “I… oh, come on, don’t make me embarrass myself again.”

Weisz couldn’t form a coherent thought or sentence even if he wanted to. Somehow, his brain was working in overdrive and also stalled at the same time. He could just imagine the smoke coming out of his ears.

“I- ... um…”

“Just say ‘thanks, but no thanks’ so we can move on already, okay? We don’t ever have to bring it up ag-”

“I.. think I like you, too.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened and a bright red blush spread across her face; Weisz knew he had a matching expression.

“Think, or… or know?” her voice gave away her vulnerability.

“I… think I know.”

Rebecca chuckled once. Then again. Soon enough, she was laughing even louder and more brightly than she had been in the tunnel, which dragged a small chuckle out of Weisz.

“Sorry, I don’t know what was so funny about that,” she said when her laughter subsided.

“Neither do I, but at least it’s not as awkward anymore.”

She smiled, then tugged at her lips slightly with her teeth. “Did you mean that?” she asked, her voice back to being small and vulnerable. “About… a-about, y’know..”

“... Yeah. I-...  you’ve been on my mind all day, and… now that I think about it, kind of… everyday? I- I mean… like, I…” he sighed, releasing the tension in his body only for it to return almost immediately. “I know what you meant about this being hard, now.”

She hummed in amusement. “Yeah, but… it’s out there, now, right?”

“Y-eah.”

“Hey, Weisz.”

He glanced over to see her looking at him, biting her lip slightly, eyes darting back and forth. “Hm?”

She nodded to herself, took a deep breath, stood on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

His eyes widened so much, he thought they might just pop out of his head. His shoulders hunched up to an all new height, and he found himself unable to look at Rebecca out of sheer embarrassment.

“Uh, I… uh..” he mumbled.

Rebecca chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Weisz just leaned down and hid his face in his arms on the railing. If he added together all of the embarrassment he’d suffered throughout his life, he was certain it wouldn’t even be half as much as what was making his body curl in on itself at that moment.

“Shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Later That Night

“Happy Birthday, Pino!” they shouted as the Birthday Princess blew out the candles on her cake.

The crowd of citizens had cleared out of the castle nearly an hour ago, and of the few close friends that remained, Rebecca was the only one who didn’t either live or work in the castle.

“Thanks!” She said, the same bright smile she’d been sporting all day still shining. “And thanks for letting me invite the city into the castle, Grandpa, I’ve never played a game with so many people before!”

King Ziggy patted her on the head. “Of course, Pino. It was a grand idea.”

“It was pretty fun,” Rebecca said. “Even Weisz had fun, didn’t you?” she added, taking a sip of water.

“Not even a little bit,” he said, a half-smile on his face.

“Not even hiding with Miss Rebecca was fun?” Pino asked. Her words were innocent enough on the surface, but for the second time that day, Weisz felt what the little princess was really saying, and, for the second time, didn’t like it at all.

Rebecca choked on her water and his shoulders hunched up for what must have been the hundredth time that day.

“Not. In. The. Slightest.”

“Awh, that’s too bad,” she said, though he could see the slightest sarcastic curl to the corner of her mouth. “Did you at least have fun in your workshop?”

“Yeah, machines are more fun than people any day.”

“I can still hang out with you and Miss Hermit in the workshop sometimes, right?”

Hermit looked at Weisz with one eyebrow raised and a smirk. She would never mind an interruption from the energetic princess.

“Only if you do what I said earlier. Do you remember?”

“I have to be careful around the machines and only when you’re not busy, right?”

“Yep. Too bad we’re busy all the time.”

“That’s no fair, Mr. Weisz!” Pino pouted.

“Don’t worry, Pino, you can come see us whenever you want,” Hermit said. “Though I don’t know why you’d wanna hang out with Weisz, but you’re always welcome.”

“Yay! Oh, but Mr. Weisz is really cool, and he always talks to me even when he says he’s busy.”

“Aw, you have a fan,” Rebecca teased him quietly.

“Shut up.”

[i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate]

For my friend @theweiszguy​ thank you for being so amazing and wonderful and thank you for always being there to chat! When I first started planning this fic I originally wanted it to be all Weisz-centric. But, of course, it turned into Weicca. I guess you could say this follows my angst fic “Smile” but you don’t have to read “Smile” to read this! I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you have a very happy birthday, dear!

Adjustments:

          He was awake before his alarm went off, watching the stars outside the viewer cast strange rainbows of color across his ceiling. There was something aching in his arm…  a ghost pain… from before. It wasn’t as bad as it could be. He flexed his fingers, there was a soft grinding sound. He groaned. Something’s not right. He’d have to make some adjustments. But for now… he just wanted to lay in bed and watch the shadows of stars drift by. There was a soft beep at his door—someone outside. He groaned.

          “Come in.” His voice was hoarse. The door hissed as it opened, and Shiki leaned in with a bright grin.

          “You’re awake,” he laughed, then he saw his expression. “Are you alright, Weisz?”

          “’m fine,” he murmured, “Just…” he held up his mechanical arm, flexing. “Needs some adjustments, and I don’t want to get out of bed.”

          “Rebecca’s planning our next stop though! There’s going to be some really cool things to see! You should come check it out!” And then he dashed away. Weisz groaned. He wasn’t at all interested in their next tourist stop. He knew Shiki and Rebecca liked that sort of thing, but it wasn’t what kept him going. Better get out of bed and fix this arm though.

          He rolled over with a groan, stretching, and then pulled himself out of bed. His arm made another concerning grinding noise, and a spike of pain shot up his nerves. Yeah, something’s not right. He flexed again and then groaned, making his way down to the room he set aside as a little shop.

          He met Hermit on the way, which was just his luck because when she met him in the hall he was clutching his metal arm like something was wrong and she knew instantly.

          “You have to make some repairs?” She asked. “Need some help?”

          “No,” He huffed, “I can do it myself.”

          “That’s what you said the last two times,” she grinned, “And you still always ended up needing another hand.”

          “Haha, very, very funny,” Weisz rolled his eyes.

          “What about Rebecca? Last time a bolt needed tightening you asked her.”

          Weisz narrowed his eyes at her, “I told you, this time I won’t need help.”

          “Right.” Hermit followed him into the shop anyways. He always felt more at home when he was in the shop, surrounded by tools and gadgets. Even when Hermit joined him—either to watch, help, or tease mercilessly—he felt at home.

He had a feeling of dread as he sat down in his usual seat, next to the wrenches and screw drivers all the right size for his arm. I’m going to have to ask for help. There was one bolt he couldn’t quite reach with his other hand. He glanced over at Hermit briefly. Already said I could do it myself. And there was no way he was backing down on that. And Rebecca… well, the last time he’d invited Rebecca to help him adjust a bolt she had yanked the wrench so hard that it had sent a shock through his nerves that he still remembered with a shudder. He had learned pretty quickly that Rebecca didn’t know her own strength. He admired that part of her most of the time—from a distance because he knew if she caught him admiring her of all people, he’d never hear the end of it.

“You sure you don’t need help?” Hermit questioned from the other side of the room.

“I’m fine,” Weisz said, partially trying to convince himself.

“Well, if you don’t need me I’ll just go find something else to do,” Hermit shrugged knowingly, slipping out of the room.

He let out a deep sigh and grabbed the tool he needed first. I’ll figure out how to get to that other bolt when I get there. He worked quietly for some time, using his ether gear here and there trying to diagnose the problem. It would be easier to do that once the fancy piece of machinery was no longer attached to his body and that required—getting rid of that last bolt.

Just as he was trying to toss out his ego in order to find Hermit for help, familiar, soft arms wrapped around his shoulders and Rebecca pressed a lingering kiss to his temple. “Shiki said you’d be in here.” He leaned his head against her shoulder, breathing in the faint smell of her shampoo. “Is something wrong?” She asked. He shrugged, jostling her a little.

“I think it’s just a loose spring in here somewhere. But I’ll be able to diagnose it better once I get it disconnected.”

“You need some help, sunshine?” she asked. He wanted so desperately to say no.

“Yeah,” he let out a defeated sigh, handing her a wrench he knew was just the right size. “I just need that bolt on my shoulder loosened—” Rebecca was already looking for it, her fingers tracing across his skin to cool metal, and he heard the wrench click around the bolt before Rebecca pulled. “LOOSENED!” Weisz shouted as a jolt of pain shot through his shoulder. “LOOSENED!” Rebecca jumped.

“S-sorry!” She gasped, “Did it hurt?” He gritted his teeth, a shiver running down his spine.

“Goddammit,” he hissed, clutching his shoulder. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you righty-tighty, lefty-loosey?”

“I’m so sorry, Weisz,” Rebecca frowned, “I’ll turn it the right way, okay?”  

“The left way,” Weisz groaned. “Please turn it the left way.”

“You know what I mean!” Rebecca snapped. The wrenched clicked in place again and she turned slowly, until the bolt slipped out of place and Weisz carefully unhooked the arm. Emptiness. He hated that feeling. The feeling that he was incomplete, it made him sick. It always reminded him of those weeks before he had been outfitted with the prosthetic. He hated to remember those weeks. He glanced at Rebecca briefly before leaning over his workbench. He knew those weeks had been torture for her, and he felt miserable thinking about how much of a burden he had been. Rebecca sat down on the stool next to him with a sigh.

“Sorry about the bolt, soft-man,” she whispered, “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Just…” he let out a deep sigh, trying to fidget with the mechanical parts with only one hand. “Can you just hold this plate up? I just need to adjust the spring and then it should be good.”

          “Of course!” she leaned over his work station, holding up the little plate for him as he leaned over to adjust the spring. There were a couple of other parts slightly out of place due to the spring, but they were quick fixes. He oiled the joints, and then let out a sigh, examining his work.

          “I think it’s good. Only one way to find out though. Help me get it hooked on?” Rebecca helped him get his arm in position and he slowly tightened all the bolts, until at last there remained that final, annoying bolt. “Okay, listen,” he instructed. “Slowly.” He set the wrench into Rebecca’s hand.

          “I feel like you’re doubting my ability to tighten a bolt,” Rebecca rolled her eyes.

          “I’m doubting your understanding of how goddamn strong you are,” he said. Rebecca threw her head back and laughed. “Would you just tighten the bolt…?” Weisz groaned. She sighed. The click of the wrench against the bolt, and then the slow feeling of the arm becoming more secure against his shoulder.

          “Just a little more,” she said. He knew that click was coming, when his nerves would react with the metal and he would be able to move his fingers again. Rebecca had paused. What is she— The sudden yank of the wrench made him jerk.

          “OW! Rebecca!” Pain shot through his shoulder, tingling shot down his arm accompanied with a shocking pain.

          “I knew it was going to shock you when the nerves connected anyways!” Rebecca shrugged. “How does it feel now?” He flexed his arm, clenched and unclenched his fist.

          “Good.” He groaned.

          She dropped into his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Good.”

          “Hey, Princess, I know you want to help, but please don’t ever do that again.” He groaned.

          “It hurts every time no matter who does it, Weisz,” Rebecca leaned over pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, drawing his attention back to her. “But…” she murmured, in a sing-song voice, “Maybe I can make it up to you.” He grinned, resting his hand against her hip, and leaning forward to steal another hungry kiss as she reached for the buttons of his shirt.

          “Maybe I should let you help me out here more often,” he growled, pulling her closer.

          Rebecca grinned, “Maybe you should.”

[catgluue]

The Price of Life Chapter Three

So I’ve sent this to be Beta’d but I’m frankly too excited to wait so happy birthday to you, tumblr. I reserve the right to make changes, such as when I discover tumblr formatting has eaten all my italics. 

Anyway this was fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it.

Read on A03

----

“I'm bored.”

“Well that makes two of us,” Havoc deadpanned, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand. It was a little after three in the morning and they were situated outside Rebecca's hospital room. It was a fairly unconventional birth plan, with he and Riza taking it in turns to sit with Rebecca, ostensibly so they each could rest but realistically so they could switch out before she got too annoyed with either of them. Their five year old, Marcus, was at Mustang's for the night, but wherever Riza went her shadow was sure to follow. And her shadow happened to be twelve and mouthy.

“Did I take this long to be born?” Mae wanted to know, yawning hugely. She had, of course, been given the choice to stay home but true to form she wanted to be where the action was. Havoc loved the kid to death but he'd forgotten how abysmally obnoxious tweens could be. A while back he'd joked to Mustang that Mae was now the same age that Edward Elric has been when he'd been recruited into the military. Far from finding this funny, the General had gone white as a sheet and spent half an hour locked in his office on the phone with his head in his hands and Riza glaring daggers at Jean.

It had not been a pleasant afternoon.

“No idea,” he said. “I mean, I wasn't there. I know you also decided to show up sometime after midnight and your Aunt Rebecca was up all night waiting for you, so you definitely owe her one.”

“What about-” she began, sitting straighter in her chair, before pausing as though thinking through what she was about to say. “Was anyone else there apart from Aunt Becca?”

He grinned tiredly. “Oh I think someone else might have showed up,” he said, a hand on his chin. “What was that guy's name? Troy?”

“Ha ha.”

“I think you maybe met him once or twice. Dark-haired fellow, lots of stars on his jacket? Thinks you're cool for some reason?”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “Forget I asked.”

They were quiet for a moment under the fluorescent lights of the hallway. Havoc knew well that hospitals were places apart from time; the lights and people were unchanging. Well, mostly unchanging, he thought, as he spied Breda walking up the hall juggling three styrofoam cups.

“I told you to stay home,” Jean said, accepting the cup which turned out to be full of coffee.

“Yeah well,” Breda said with a shrug. “There was nothing good on the radio.” He handed a cup to Mae, who sniffed it suspiciously. “Black coffee's your drink, right?”

“Yeah but hot chocolate is fine too,” Mae told him, taking a sip. “Uncle Breda were you there when I was born?” Breda shook his head no, settling into a chair on her other side.

“Nah we missed the action. I got to see you a little while after though, you were all pink and tiny and cute. I wonder what happened?” Mae made a face at him, and he nudged her with an elbow playfully. She wasn’t spoiled exactly - Hawkeye would never let that happen - but she had grown up with an abundance of Uncles who were inclined to indulge her every whim until such a time as they’d been sat down by their commanding officer and ordered to desist. (Mae’s Aunt Becca flatly refused a similar order.)

Mustang, for all that he clearly loved the little girl, could be surprisingly stern when he had to, a surprising aspect of their odd arrangement that Jean found made him respect the man even more. It was easy to be a kid’s pal, to take them to the zoo and buy them gifts. It was harder to make them do their homework, or their chores, or  eat their vegetables.

“Uncle Breda was almost as afraid of you as he is of dogs,” Havoc confided. “Remember when we sat you down with a pillow and made you hold her?”

“One of the more terrifying experiences of my life, and I helped stage a coup,” Haymans remarked. “You hated me, wouldn't stop screaming until Havoc here took you back. Same thing with Fuery. I think babies can smell fear or something.”

“Maybe you just took some getting used to,” Mae remarked primly, setting her cup down and stretching. The door opened and a tired-looking Riza emerged, amid what sounded like Rebecca threatening the doctor with surprising vigor and creativity for a woman who had been in labor for something like six hours already.

“You're up, Jean,” Hawkeye told him, hauling him to his feet before he had the chance to process what she meant. “I think it's finally time for the big event.” he froze, unbelieving that their long wait was about to pay off and he was about to become a father for the second time. Hawkeye saw his dazed expression and chuckled softly.

“It helps if you open the door,” Mae supplied helpfully, reaching over to pluck the coffee from his hands before he spilled it.

“Can it, squirt,” he said without any real venom, and walked past Riza into the delivery room.

Rebecca looked beautiful: even sweaty and frizzy and tired as she was, Jean didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so radiant. Of course she was also screaming a string of curses so apart from being beautiful she was also terrifying . Like a vengeful goddess or something, he mused. She caught him looking and beckoned him over with the hand not clutching one of the nurses’ arms.

“JEAN HAVOC STOP STARING AT ME AND GET OVER HERE SO I CAN BREAK ALL THE BONES IN YOUR FING-AAAGH!!”

He did as he was told, offering a hand that she clung to painfully.

“You’re doing so well,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice.

“I,” she panted, “am doing a FANTASTIC job.”

“That’s what I meant to say,” he told her. “Can’t be long now right?” He directed this at the doctor, though Rebecca’s ensuing yell of expletives let him know she’d taken it personally.

“All right, Rebecca,” the nurse said after a glance under the sheet that covered her. “It’s time to push.” Havoc felt himself go clammy at the thought, and he brushed a hand across Rebecca’s forehead tenderly.

“You,” he told her, “Are the best baby-haver in history. Nobody pops em out like you can. You’re crushing it.” She grinned wearily, and despite her myriad of threats he could see the genuine affection in her eyes as she squeezed his hand more gently this time.  

“This kind of blind adoration is exactly why I keep you around. Now don’t you dare look away, if I have to witness this then so do you.”

It was a boy.

-x-

“Good boy, Taisa! Here, you throw it this time, Mae, you can throw further than I can.” The bushy-haired boy handed the frisbee to the dark-haired girl, who turned, aimed, and threw in one smooth motion.

Jean watched them fondly. He’d been out with Marcus, since Riza and Rebecca had a standing appointment to have lunch together on Saturday afternoons, and Becca had brought the baby. They’d gotten ice cream and were walking through the park when they’d run into Mustang and Mae, who coincidentally alsohad a standing appointment to have lunch together on Saturday afternoons. He’d just assumed she tagged along with her mom and Becca on those occasions but he had to admit it was the perfect opportunity for Mustang to have some quality time with his bodyguard’s kid. It had been Marcus to point them out first, and Havoc had looked to see the General seated on a park bench, chuckling at normally reserved Mae animatedly telling a story that seemed to involve an explosion.

Seeing them side by side really highlighted the passing of time; he remembered when Mae was seven and would play in this same park with Black Hayate, before he passed on to Good Boy Heaven. Mae and Riza had both been inconsolable, and the General had made sure that Hayate was promoted two ranks posthumously and given a proper sendoff befitting his station. Now Mae was fourteen, long-limbed and getting taller almost by the minute.

“I can't believe how big they're getting,” Havoc remarked, watching Mae and Marcus take turns throwing the frisbee for Taisa, one of the late great Black Hayate’s children.

“Do you know she came to me the other day and asked me how to get a boy in her class to notice her?” Roy said, pushing his hair off his face in an exasperated gesture while Havoc barked out a laugh.

“Oh man, I'm guessing you weren't ready for that kind of a talk, huh boss?”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“So what did you tell her?” Now he thought about it, Jean realized that even in his capacity as favorite uncle (or so he liked to believe) he wasn't ready for Mae to start dating either. She’d always been the bookish type, on the quiet side with people she didn’t know well. He had just assumed they wouldn’t have to worry about boys for years yet. Mustang shrugged.

“I was so surprised I just told her to be herself and that any boy who didn't notice her wasn't worth her time.”

“Well that seems like solid advice to me,” Jean told him. A little boring, but he doubted he’d have been able to come up with anything better when put on the spot like that.

“I'm glad you think so; Mae rolled her eyes and said never mind, she'd just go look through Aunt Becca's magazines for actual advice and thanks for nothing,” Roy said bitterly, though he was clearly amused.

Now that he thought about it, Havoc could recall a day last week when Mae had come over and talked to her aunt in hushed tones. At a certain point there had been a peal of laughter and his wife crowing that finally a Hawkeye wanted to look through trashy periodicals with her. He had avoided the kitchen after that and so didn’t hear anything else.

“Ouch. Did you tell Hawkeye?” Roy looked at him in surprise.

“Well no, Mae asked me not to.”

“So you're more afraid of the wrath of a teenage girl than the wrath of Riza Hawkeye, your trusted adjutant and infamous sharpshooter,” he said flatly. “Interesting perspective.”

“It's not like that. If I want Mae to continue trusting me, I need to prove myself worthy of that trust. She should be able to come to me with questions, or things she might not want to talk to her mother about. The Captain understands this.” Of course , Havoc thought. As usual, he was three steps and a nonverbal conversation behind Mustang and Hawkeye. They would have talked about this, probably years ago – probably before Mae herself was even able to talk. They were as much of one mind about Mae's upbringing as they were about anything else.

“Sounds like solid reasoning to me.”

“Besides, if I told Hawkeye there was a boy at school not giving her daughter the time of day you know she’d find a way to show up and ‘accidentally’ let slip how many guns she keeps on her person,” he said cheerfully and Havoc had to admit that he was probably not all that far from the truth.

-x-

The office was filled with the sound of last minute paperwork being gathered up, and Mae's soft begging at the General's desk. It was almost quitting time on a Friday and Hawkeye was delivering some documents while her daughter did her best to cajole her mother's senior officer.

“Please, please please please,

“I can't sign this; I'm not your legal guardian,” Mustang deadpanned, glancing at the final paper she had placed on his desk.

“But you're practically the most important man in Amestris, after the Fuhrer,” Mae reasoned, trying to hand him a pen as he crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Go try this on him, then: you'll probably have better luck.” Mae rolled her eyes at the suggestion.

“He'll make me play him for it and I can never beat him.”

“Well, I can't help you either. Have you even asked your mother?” the General asked with a shrug.

“You know she'll never say yes, she always changes the subject when I ask about alchemy. It's just a short term course and I'm doing really well in school this year,” she explained. “I thought you'd understand.” This child of the military really was getting to be a master manipulator, Havoc thought, watching as she batted large amber eyes at Mustang. Sure she lacked subtlety but she knew how to play Roy like a fiddle. She could ask for the moon and he'd find a way to bring it down for her.

“Look Mae,” he said slowly, as though choosing his words carefully, “I know you might think that alchemy is a glamorous profession, but it's not easy. It's a lot of hard work. Most alchemists aren't up to the task of working for the state and there's not much money without government funding.” This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Mae's eyes flashed and she squared her shoulders.

“I know I'm not some kind of prodigy like you or Uncle Ed but I don't want to do anything flashy. I want to go to Xing and study with Uncle Al and Aunt May,” she explained. “I've been reading through some of your books and medical alchemy is really cool.”

“When the hell did you read any of my books?” he demanded, and she shrugged, looking slightly guilty.

“Sometimes I borrow them. I always bring them back though. I've been looking through them for years, and I've done a few transmutations. Little ones,” she admitted. Mustang leaned his chin on his hand lazily, regarding Mae as he might look at a fascinating equation.

“Have you? That's actually pretty advanced, you know.”

She blinked, obviously not expecting praise. “Really?”

“You must have an aptitude for it.”

“I know,” she looked around before lowering her voice. “I know mom's father was an alchemist. I think that's maybe why she doesn't want me learning it.”

“Could be,” he said in his most bland, I-know-nothing-whatsoever-about-this-matter voice.

“But I thought you might understand why... why I'm so interested in it.”

“I can't sign the permission slip for you,” he repeated. “Do you know what would happen to me if your mom found out? Terrible things, unspeakable things. Remember the time I got you roller skates before she thought you were ready?” Havoc winced – he was sure none of them would ever forget the roller skate incident.

“Will you – will you talk to her then?”

“And what makes you think that would help?” Mae rolled her eyes.

“She listens to you, Sir. She might not act like it but you should hear her sometimes, it's all “General this” and “General that”, I think she really respects your opinion.” Flattery would get her everywhere, it seemed, as Mustang sat up straighter and ran a hand through his hair, as the Captain reentered the room.

“Follow my lead,” he muttered, and she nodded. “Evening Major, what do you have planned on this beautiful Friday night?” Riza lifted an eyebrow at his flowery tone, a smile playing around her mouth.

“Well it’s Mae’s turn to cook, so I thought I might do some reading,” she answered lightly.

“Oh that's unfortunate, you see I was planning on sweeping her off her feet for a night on the town. Since you seem to be delighted by the prospect of not cooking I suppose you could join us, if that's all right with you of course madam,” this was directed at Mae, who pretended to consider. Havoc started slowly gathering his things, interested to see how this would play out.

“I guess she can come, if she promises not to talk too much.”

“Yes of course, leave those chatterbox tendencies at home and we've got a deal,” Roy said, gazing at Riza evenly over his hands, steepled before him on the desk.

“I think I can agree to that,” Riza said, with another of her barely perceivable smiles that nonetheless seemed to light up her whole face.

“Great,” the General said. “It's a date.”

“Oh shoot!” Mae exclaimed, snatching up her school book - without the form, which she swept into the General's lap seemingly by accident. “I forgot I told Aunt Rebecca I would babysit for her tonight! Oh how terrible, I suppose you'll have to just go without me.” Jean thought that should he want to, he could have knocked Roy over with a feather, while Riza just gave her daughter a small wave, face almost suspiciously bland.

“Well if you promised. We'll miss you though.”

“You'll manage. By mom, bye Sir,” Mae chirped, turning to fall into step with Havoc, who had paused after donning his jacket.

“You realize we're not actually going anywhere,” he said quietly as she took one of his massive binders filled with cases he needed to review before Monday without being asked.

“Keep walking, Uncle Havoc,” she hissed.

“What's in it for me?”

“Free babysitting for a month.”

“Two.”

“One and I'll throw in an overnight trip.”

“Deal,” he said. They'd been wanting to take a weekend off to see Falman in Briggs for a while. “And well played,” he added with a nod.

“Thank you, I learn from the best. What's for dinner?” Hardened con artist and all, she was still a teenager who was somehow constantly hungry. He reached out and ruffled her shoulder length black hair and she responded by ducking away from him and smoothing it back down with a motion that he’d seen his superior officer make a million times.

-x-

BANG BANG BANG

Havoc almost jumped out of his seat at the knocking at the door. It was sometime after eight and dark outside. He picked up his sidearm off the mantle and inched towards the door carefully, before snatching the handle and wrenching it open. Springing back, he brought the gun up and then back down almost as quickly when he saw who it was. Mae Hawkeye, face red and wet with tears, was standing on his doorstep with wide eyes on his gun.

“You scared me,” he explained, dropping his weapon and clicking the safety back on. “What's up, kiddo? Everything ok?” Everything was clearly not okay but everything he knew about teenagers and this teenager in particularly told him to tread lightly. She looked like a frightened animal, and he kept his distance lest she bolt.

“Hey,” she sniffed, looking around him into the empty living room. “Is Aunt Rebecca here?” Great, he thought, girl stuff. Perfect. This was much better than the quiet hour alone with a book and a scotch he'd been anticipating. He poured the scotch anyway, thinking he'd need it.

“She took the boys for ice cream,” he said. “Can, uh, can I make you some tea?” Mae swept by him, dropping a suspiciously large bag on the floor near the coat rack with a thunk . Sounded like a couple changes of clothes and about five books, he estimated. This was serious.

“Sure,” she said, sinking into one of the armchairs and putting her head in her hands. Jean closed the door and headed to the kitchen to switch the kettle on, and by the time he came back she was sitting upright, having dried her face and smoothed her hair back. She looked young, and she was wearing an expression he knew all too well.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked, and she gave him a withering stare that was ironically all Hawkeye, considering what she was probably mad about.

“I can't,” she said in a long-suffering tone. “I mean, I just, I had a fight with mom and I needed to get out.”

“Right,” he said, leaning back and taking a sip of scotch. “Let me guess, girl stuff?” Mae snorted.

“You couldn't even begin to imagine.”

“Right, of course not,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. When did she get so needlessly dramatic? She certainly didn't get that particular trait from her mother.

She sat on the edge of the couch, arms tightly crossed. He sat next to her and playfully bumped her elbow with one of his.

“Hey come on, you guys usually get along great. Whatever you were fighting about can’t have been that bad.”

“Oh yes it can,” Mae hissed.

“Did she return a book to the library you weren’t finished with yet?” He asked, recalling the source of a previous rift. Mae had a habit of not using bookmarks, claiming to always remember her page, and Riza had a habit of fastidiously following rules, such as the rule that library books could only be borrowed for a fortnight at a time. It was surprising the mistake didn’t happen more often, when you thought about it.

“She’s a liar,” Mae said softly and Havoc blinked at this. Riza Hawkeye was honest to the point of (always tactful) bluntness at times. Sure she could keep a secret when she had to but usually only … when she had to…

He kept his expression carefully neutral.

“It’s not my business,” he told her, hoping this would discourage her from fully revealing the cause of their argument, “But if you caught her in a fib it was probably for good reason.”

“It wasn’t a fib, she’s been lying to me since I was born,” Mae spat bitterly. “And I gave her the chance to finally come clean but she just kept up the lie, like I’m stupid —“

“No one could ever accuse you of being stupid,” he told her. And it was true, she had taken to her alchemy lessons like a fish to water. At fifteen she was at the top of her class and rapidly outpacing the curriculum available. He’d once heard Mustang quietly say to Hawkeye that he’d been looking into finding a private tutor in Central, but he had been immediately shut down by one of her withering stares that seemed to speak volumes to Roy. Havoc couldn’t see why - the girl was a natural, let her do the thing she was clearly great at. “You know how protective your mom can be. Maybe this lie, that I have no knowledge of and is not my business, was for your own good when you were younger. She doesn’t realize how fast you’ve grown up.”

“She still should tell me the truth.”

“You know, your mom’s a person too,” he told her gently, well aware that he was divulging one of the biggest secrets of parentkind. “Have you considered that maybe, uh, whatever it is, is a sensitive topic for her too? It’s probably not a fun secret to keep. I bet you she wishes she doesn’t have to.”

Mae scrubbed the back of her hand across her eyes.

“Thank you, Uncle Havoc. I’m gonna go wash my face.” She headed off down the hall and he breathed a sigh of relief, glad that playing dumb had worked. He reached for his scotch and took a long drink.

Another knock, and Havoc set down his glass in annoyance, before opening the door. It was Riza, of course, looking world-weary and almost like she'd been crying. Jean had known Riza for, geez, at least twenty years now. He didn't think he'd ever seen her cry.

“Hey. Is my daughter here?”

Wordlessly, Havoc opened the door and she walked past him, setting her purse on the coffee table heavily. The tea kettle started to sing in the kitchen and he hastened to take if off the heat, bringing Riza a cup of chamomile without asking.

“Just wait until yours are teenagers,” she said wryly, accepting the mug from him.

“Well when they are, and they run out during an argument, I'll know to go look for them at your place,” he said, and found that despite his joking tone he meant it. This earned him a sad little smile.

“It'll be nice to be the fun aunt for once,” she said softly. “People always say parenting is hard, but no one ever tells you it can be so heartbreaking.” She shook her head slowly. “I didn't mean that. Not exactly.”

“I know what you mean,” Havoc assured her. He hated having arguments with his kids, even if it was just little stuff right now, like whether or not one should jump on the bed. Mae hadn't come out with it, but he could guess what they'd been fighting about.

“I'm the one who ran out,” she confessed. Havoc inched closer to the couch and put what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Not now, but this morning. I was going in to work early and she kept asking me about – well it doesn't matter what. I owe her an answer but I brushed her off.”

“Whatever it is, I'm sure it's ...complicated,” Jean said delicately. Her hand came up briefly to rest on his.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Mom?” came a small voice from the hallway. It was of course Mae, face freshly scrubbed, looking remorseful, yet with a familiar glint of determination in her eyes. “Let's go home,” she said. Riza took a deep breath, and stood up.

“Good idea.”

He’d thought about using Rebecca as a go between to find out the result of this argument, but in the end decided against it. As he’d told Mae, it really wasn’t his business, even though he was desperately curious to find out whether she’d been told of her true parentage. But as it happened, there was no espionage necessary; Hawkeye approached him the next day while he was making coffee in the office.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For whatever you said to Mae about me.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” he said. “I just ah, told her that whatever it was, the situation isn’t ideal for you either.”

“She said that whenever I was ready to … discuss the subject we were arguing over, she would like to hear it.” Riza shrugged. “Sometimes being a parent is a wretch, but then they do something mature and it was all worth it.”

“She’s a great kid,” Jean told Riza solemnly. “You did a good job there.” She smiled a little sadly and he thought he saw her eyes flick to the front of the room, just for a second.

“Oh, you know,” she said softly. “It takes a village.”

-x-

With Grumman retiring and General Mustang moving into his old office, their team was all but disbanded. It meant promotions and pay raises all around, of course, and Havoc was pleased to finally be given his own unit, but this last afternoon lazily packing up the office was bittersweet. He, Breda, and Fuery lingered, chatting and arguing over pens, while Roy finished some paperwork. Colonel Hawkeye had been conspicuously absent, a fact none of them had mentioned due to the stormclouds that had immediately gathered over the Flame Alchemist’s head when one of the subordinates had asked.

The door flew open, and sixteen-year-old Mae stormed in and directly up to the large desk, the spitting image of her mother in a rage. Roy looked up, did a double take, and sighed.

“Oh hell,” he began. “Mae-”

“Don’t you even-” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. “You fired my mother - how could you possibly-”

Jean exchanged panicked glances with Breda and Fuery. This was a situation he could never have foreseen - even in his paperwork-induced stress dreams he was the one being fired, never Hawkeye. He couldn’t say he really blamed Mae for being upset; he personally was going to be having a word with his superior officer the moment the kid left, insubordination be damned. Fire Hawkeye? Had the General lost his mind, he wouldn’t last two weeks without her watching his back! Mustang was massaging his temples as though he felt a headache coming on.

“She shouldn’t be telling you that kind of thing,” he muttered, which was of course the wrong thing to say.

“She didn’t tell me anything, I know what termination paperwork is, and I know your signature!”

Havoc found himself in the unique position of both wanting to stay and see the pending Fuhrer of Amestris be torn a new one by a teenaged girl and simultaneously wanting to be nowhere near the impending firestorm that was undoubtedly going to take place. From Fuery and Breda’s shell-shocked expressions they were also frozen to where they stood.

“You know believe it or not I do have my reasons,” the General said, voice quiet. “And I am planning to enlighten you, despite the fact that I do not have to, but this is neither the time nor the place.”

“Oh save it,” Mae snapped, though the shaking in her voice told Jean that she was close to tears. He had no idea how Roy was still staring at her levelly; he would have crumbled if she’d used that tone on him. “You’re just a snake - all this time you’ve been pretending to care about us but now you’re getting promoted you’re suddenly too good-”

Behind the desk, Mustang’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, young lady,” he said carefully.

“Well then tell me!” She demanded, fists clenched at her side. None of them had ever seen her this upset with Roy before, and Havoc suddenly recalled Mustang, holding a baby while Edward Elric angrily asked him what Mae would think of him when she was older. He had never given it a second thought, assuming that Mae’s affection for the General meant that she didn’t harbor any resentment.

The tears in her eyes told him he’d been wrong.

From across the room Havoc noticed a few MPs peering into the office, looking for the source of the yelling, and he locked eyes with Fuery, who casually picked up one of his boxes and headed for the door, closing it behind him. Neither of the two at the desk seemed to notice.

“Look,” he said, changing tacks, “I’m almost done here, go wait outside and I’ll-”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Mae hissed, “You’re not my father, remember?” The dam broke. She dropped her head into her hands, shoulders shaking with sobs. Roy reached out in what seemed to be an automatic gesture, pulling her into a hug, rubbing small circles into her back while she cried on his epaulets. When she finally pulled away, sniffling, he handed her a handkerchief and regarded her seriously.

“There’s a set of rules the military has in place,” he began, and Havoc and Breda were suddenly both very busy placing stacks of documents and books into the boxes, “that forbids romantic relationships between officers.”

“Oh,” was all Mae said.

“If evidence of fraternization is discovered, then depending on the rank of the officers involved and the seriousness of the infraction, then at the very least those officers don’t remain stationed in the same city. At worst they could be court-martialed.”

“I didn’t think-“

“I meant to discuss this with you,” he told her, rifling around in his desk. “Clearly I didn’t think you would find out when you did.” Whatever he’d pulled out of his desk elicited a gasp from Mae, and her whole demeanor suddenly shifted. Havoc was too busy minding his own business to catch a glimpse of the object, but he had a guess at what it could be, and why it meant Hawkeye couldn’t continue to work in the military.

“You know most people would start by asking someone on a date first,” Mae told him shakily. “How do you even know if she likes you?” she teased. Mustang had the grace to keep his expression neutral.

“I think she does. I could be wrong.”

Mae had taken the small box and was turning it over in her hands. “She’s pretty upset right now. Even if she didn’t tell me why, I could tell she was mad.”

“I jumped the gun,” he explained. “I was supposed to wait until after the inauguration. She’ll forgive me though. Will you?” Havoc fought the strong urge to run out of the large office, but he couldn’t bring himself to move, or do anything else to break the spell of the moment. He just continued to crouch, rifling aimlessly through the open drawer of his desk. Roy was clearly not asking for forgiveness for what had happened today and Mae, ever the clever one, could tell. It was a tense few moments before she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, choking back a sob.

“Of course,” she murmured, and pulled away with a grin. “You know if mom says yes then you’ll be my stepfather.”

There’s a long moment where Havoc realized he’d somehow gotten dust in his eye and it was wildly uncomfortable.

“No,” Roy said, considering. “I’ll be your dad.”

[anthropologicalhands]

r/n 21. on a place of insecurity

note: it’s a hogwarts au! link to Ao3

~

Before she knew she was a witch, Rebecca’s seventeenthbirthday hadn’t held any special appeal for her, not the way the birthdaysdirectly preceding and following did. But the day her Hogwarts letter wriggled outof her mailbox and swept her out of her mother’s house changed all of that. True,it wasn’t a complete rescue; no castle, no matter how far away, could save herentirely from her mother and her neverending push for excellence which, unmooredby the new standards that a whole wizarding world revealed, doubled down inother ways.

However, by wizarding law, at seventeen a witch is an adult.When Rebecca turns seventeen, provided that she does not involve Muggleswithout ties to the wizarding world, she will be able to prove to Naomi Bunch,once and for all, what magic can really do.

There is always more magic to learn, even filled as the pastsix years have been with falling in love with Josh Chan, developing unusual butstrong inter-House friendships with Valencia Perez and Heather Davis, andfinding refuge in the Divination tower to have tea with Professor Proctor, evenif Rebecca had to drop the subject after her A-for-Acceptable-except-notOWL, forced to concede that she was too willing to read signs into anythingthat might suit her wishes.

That self-awareness, however, doesn’t stop Rebecca fromwishing for a sign right now.

There are barely fifteen minutes left before the end of herstudy session with Nathaniel Plimpton and she still hasn’t made her propositionyet, and it isn’t entirely clear if her own nervous anticipation or some otherforce is stretching the seconds out, so that the time to drag on especiallylong. Maybe it’s the short winter days, which makes the shadows in the libraryare especially long and dark, even though dinner isn’t for another two hours,or the flickering candlelight that makes her eyes sting and is definitely notthe best source of illumination. Idly, she wishes had her favorite reading light,the one shaped like a cartoon anglerfish, but no; it’s against the rules tohave any Muggle technology in the castle, even components as simple as alightbulb and batteries. She might still try it before she finishes; evensomething that small is a novelty to the classmates of hers who have only knownmagic all of their life, who haven’t had to fight to hold onto it, to make sureit isn’t just a fever dream.

She wants to see how Nathaniel would react, in particular—notto a reading light, but to a whole list of Muggle contraptions; he usuallymakes wonderful faces when confronted by technology he doesn’t know. From whatshe has seen of his Muggle Studies syllabus, they tend to skip out on some ofthe more interesting innovations.

Nathaniel likes to claim that Muggle Studies are a logicalchoice as a course of study going into Wizarding law, even though he knewabsolutely nothing about the Muggle world before they started talking inearnest, and he refuses to take her insights until after the professor hasgraded and returned his work – the result of a couple of small, harmlessmisconceptions she planted in his head early on in their acquaintance. Still,she’s looking forward to reading his essay on electricity after he gets it back—hetends to make interesting assumptions about the devices used in Mugglekitchens.

Rebecca sighs, not quietly, and peers over A Guide toAdvanced Transfiguration to see if Nathaniel might have the same jitteryfeeling as the end of their session approaches and might speak first so thatshe doesn’t have to start. But he seems perfectly content as he writes out hisessay in that neat, narrow script of his, nearly at the end of his roll ofparchment. She fidgets and groans to herself, realizing that she can’t wait forhim to look up first if she wants to talk to him about this and not miss herchance. Because she really, really wants to see how he’ll react to thisidea of hers.

“Hey,” she says, breaking the silence, testing the waters.

His eyes immediately flick up to meet hers.

“Hey,” Nathaniel returns, the word clipped and neutral. Buthe sets down his quill, like he knows that she wants to talk, and a full-bodyflush goes through her at his acquiescence, though she clears her throat andtries to seem perfectly unaffected as she leans towards him, so that there isno chance of their conversation will be overheard. He shifts towards her aswell, mirroring her folded hands and inclined head.

“Have you ever thought about what form your Animagus wouldtake?”

Nathaniel raises his eyebrows at her, unimpressed.

“Not particularly,” he says, sitting back in his chair. “Whatuse would I ever have for that? They’re just going to ask about the generalprocess, or the spell, not about your opinion.”

Rebecca pouts at him. “Come on, dude. Leave the cut-and-dryroutine and play along.”

Nathaniel rolls his eyes at her, the way he does when he isgoing to oblige her but wants her to know that he knows exactly what he is doing. She sits back, completely unashamed –whatever makes him feel good enough that he gives an answer.

“A cheetah,” he admits, with great reluctance.

Rebecca blinks, surprised; it’s a slightly more fancifulanswer that she would have expected.

“Really? A cheetah? The super sickly mammal known to haveanxiety? That one?”

“It’s the fastest mammal in the world,” he defends.

Rebecca hums, not entirely sold. “I guess. I’d have thoughtthat you were gonna pick a big cat, it would be a lion. Though, it makes sensethat you didn’t, ‘cause then you would lose face with all of your Slytherinbuddies, huh?”

Nathaniel just gives her a Look; she smiles innocently.

“What about you?” he asks, not because he cares, but becauseit is the point of the conversation, and he knows it. Rebecca is happy to takeit anyways.

“I haven’t decided yet, but I’m about to find out very soon.”

Nathaniel cocks his head to the side, the way he does inclass when the professors make a point that doesn’t track for him. “What do youmean by that?”

She nods, trying to seem careless and not like her heart ispounding in her throat. “What it sounds like. I’ll know before my next birthday.”

“Are you saying that you’ve…”

She smirks. “Not yet. But I will.”

She likes getting Nathaniel caught off guard, the way hisexpressions contort and how he tries to recompose himself afterwards. She usedto fluster him so easily, after their initial animosity had turned towards a friendlieracademic rivalry; he’s gotten used to her, but she can still do it, and she isconfident that announcing her intentions to become a teenage Animagus is morethan certain to provoke a reaction.

“Wow, that’s…”

“Amazing? Intense?” she supplies helpfully.

“A lot. That’s a lot of work for something that might beultimately pointless.”

The anticipation that had her floating so high abruptly turnsto lead, threatening to drag her down. But where there might have been mortificationwith anyone else, indignance flares up instead.

“What do you mean by pointless?” she demands,suddenly defensive to cover up her disappointment. She had been wanting areaction like the first time she successfully Vanished her raven and he hadlooked at her with such frank admiration. “There have only been sevenregistered Animagus this century. I would be among the best. What’s pointlessabout that?”

She can tell that she’s getting riled up, and she stops andcloses her eyes, taking two deep, slow breaths—after the Josh drama last year,she’s been working on monitoring herself, how she strikes out when she’s hurt.When she feels sufficiently calm and opens her eyes, Nathaniel is still sittingacross the table, concerned, trepidatious, but waiting for her.

Some of her irritation dissipates at the sight; she coughsand rolls out her shoulders self-consciously. “Sorry. That was a bit much.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“What did you mean, then?” She tries to sound curious anddisaffected, but does not succeed, if Nathaniel’s wince is any indication.

“I misspoke. It would be impressive,” says Nathanielslowly, cautiously. “But is it really practical?”

“Explain.” She means to sound commanding, not petulant, butit comes out in enough of a snarl that Nathaniel holds up his hands, palmsforward, to show he means no harm, that he has no means of defense if shedecides to hex him.

(Which is silly, she would never hex him. Tackle him downthe stairs towards the Great Hall, maybe. Or send him a Howler. But nothexing.)

“Rebecca,” he says, and a tiny part of her softens at howcarefully he says her name. “You’re definitely smart enough to get it right. That’snot a question.”

She can feel herself softening further, an additionalflicker of warmth in her chest at the compliment, but has no time to enjoy itbefore he continues, “But the process requires really precise conditions that onlyoccur by chance—you can’t exactly conjure your own lightning storm.”

“Watch me,” Rebecca mutters, but without heat. She slouchesback down in her seat, crossing her arms and not breaking eye contact. “Whatelse do you have?”

“Right.” Nathaniel still looks a little ill-at-ease, but thatnever stopped him from delivering a lecture before and it isn’t stopping himnow. “If you turn into something…unusual, you’re more likely to get caught,especially if you don’t want to get registered—”

“You think I would be something unusual?”

“Not the point. Besides, we need to focus on our NEWTS. Doyou really want to undergo a painful, highly dangerous transformation duringexams? What if you get stuck without thumbs?”

Rebecca lets out an involuntary snort of laughter. IgnoringNathaniel’s grin, she says, “That’s your worst-case scenario, that I can’ttake my exams? Please. Becoming a fully-fledged Animagus would totally countas a practical demonstration of my magical capabilities.”

“Again, not the point,” says Nathaniel tartly.

“Well, my point is that I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’tcompletely sure I could succeed. I thought you would be into that, because it’sall daring and individualistic and a challenge. Always reaching, right? Isn’tthat what you like to say?”

Nathaniel narrows his eyes at her use of his words againsthim, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s a risk, and not acalculated risk. What did your girl mob say about it?”

“Conceptually, they found it very interesting,” says Rebecca,a little too casually, and knowing it, hating how Nathaniel knows her wellenough that his eyebrows climb high up his forehead again at her reply.

“Conceptually?” he prompts.

“It was the best way to frame it,” she says quickly, rushingto get ahead of his objections. “Look, if they knew I was serious, Valenciawould just start freaking out about all of the laws and regulations I would bebreaking, and Heather might not say anything but she would give me that lookthat she gets sometimes and, really, I’ve thought this through, I don’t needany of that. So, no, I haven’t told anyone else. Just you.”

She only feels a little guilty when Nathaniel straightens upin his seat.

“Why me, then?” he asks, too carelessly for it to be natural.

“Well, like you said, it’s a very precise process, so I needsomeone who likes that sort of thing – exact quantities and followinginstructions to the letter—just to make sure that I don’t end up without mythumbs. And, logically, that means you.”

She internally cringes at how thickly she’s laying it on, almostlike desperation, but she comforts herself that it is, at least, true. Shetrusts Nathaniel to help her carry this out, if he so chooses—she wouldn’t haveasked him otherwise.

Nathaniel just looks at her for a long moment, a familiarmixture of exasperation and fascination across his features, like he can’tbelieve what he’s hearing. It used to make her feel self-conscious, but thesedays she knows how he thinks – the fascination usually wins out. For all of hisown obsessive tendencies and demands for perfection, she has never felt like hewanted her to fail, and she thinks (hopes) that this time will be no different.

“Very well,” he says at last, holding out his hand. “You’reon.”

Her heart lifts; she knew he wouldn’t let her down.

“I don’t need your challenge,” she says. “But thank you.”

They shake, and the prickle of electricity that shoots upthrough her arm and settles deep in her stomach has nothing to do with theanticipation of the challenge. It doesn’t quite make up for the reaction shedidn’t get, that she was hoping for, but it comes more than close enough.

Her homework planner chirps a five-minute reminder.

“Time’s up. When do you have Quidditch practice again?” she says,tilting her head so that she’s looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

“Not until six,” Nathaniel says, his voice thick, sending apleasant shiver up her spine that has nothing to do with the draft.

“All right.” She claps the book in front of her shut, tryingnot to seem too eager. “Walk me to the dormitory?”

~

“Have you noticed that this closet isn’t here most of thetime?”

“That’s what you want to talk about right now? Really?”Rebecca asks, as she shoves Nathaniel inside, quickly following and turning thelatch behind them.

Rebecca does, in fact, know that the closet isn’t usually inthis corridor; she’s done her research on the subject. And as a Room ofRequirement, since all they require is a tiny space with the door that locks,the door will stay locked, Alohomora or not. She sloughs off her bookbag and Nathaniel’s hands are already settling at her waist, fingers splayedwide before curling in, hooked in the waistline of her skirt. She laughs when hespins her around and presses her back against the sturdy door.

“You’re in a hurry,” she teases, not waiting for his answerbefore reaching up and tugging him down by the back of his neck to kiss him.His fingers flex in, one hand sliding low around her back and the other comingup and curling into her hair, shifting to get a better angle, while her handstighten in the crest of his hair and curve around the back of his neck, workingtheir way under his collar.

It’s a familiar motion by now, but it still feels new, asnew as every other spell she learns. She knows it’s the same for him, but inthe other direction: Nathaniel grew up in the Wizarding World, a long line oftraditions behind him and stretching before him, very few of the spells theylearn are unfamiliar to him, but he always touches her like he can’t quitebelieve she exists.

It’s not something she can admit to him, though, not withoutgoing against her own pride. She does like him, terrible awful Slytherin thathe is, and she’s made her peace with that, but anything more would get messy.Besides, he’s made his stance on relationships very clear over the last fewyears: no interest whatsoever. And after the spectacular disasters that wereher relationships with Josh and Greg, respectively, that is fine with Rebecca.Studying with Nathaniel is intellectually stimulating and kissing him in closetsstimulates her in other ways, and that’s all she needs right now, really.

Although, as willing as Nathaniel is to follow her lead mostof the time, he can be annoyingly contrary at times. Like right now, when sheonly wants him as close as possible, her arms tangling around him like she’smistletoe and he’s the tree, he abruptly pulls back. She lets out a whine and triesto tug him back down to her, but for once he resists.

“Why do you want to become an Animagus?”

Of course he asks that now, right when she’s no longer inthe mood to answer it.

“You couldn’t have asked me that in the library?” shemutters, arching her back so that she presses closer into him. A verysatisfying groan claws its way out of his throat, and he mock-glowers down hisnose at her. She smirks, unrepentant.

“And risk Mrs Hernandez overhearing?” he asks. “You don’tthink that wouldn’t get back to the Ministry?”

It’s not a weightless concern; Rebecca suspects Secret Earsare stashed around the stacks so that the librarian can better terrifymisbehaving students by enchanting books to beat them over the head for anypotential violation of library policy. But Rebecca isn’t interested in thatright now, going back up on her toes to nip at Nathaniel’s throat where it isexposed over his collar, the hand around the back of his neck sliding around tothe knot of his tie, starting to work it loose. He groans again, but still leansaway, thwarting her yet again, and this time his hands cup the back of her head,which makes eye contact impossible to avoid.

“Seriously, why?” he asks,his voice low in a way that on any other day would have her shiveringpleasantly, but the question is earnest, and enough to give Rebecca pause.

Nathaniel is a wizard born and bred, and for everything elsethey have in common; he has never known a world without magic, and he cannotpossibly understand her hunger for it.

She looks down and stares hard at his sweater, running herhand thoughtfully across the material, smiling when he twitches inadvertently.She has ways of distracting him, the way she distracts others, the way shedistracted Josh Chan while she was trying to figure out how to be his dreamgirl, the way she distracted her mother from prying too closely into her lifeat Hogwarts by hinting at means to restore youth, even if those attempts neverworked for very long. Even though she was so eager to tell him before, now itseems silly – pointless, even. Nathaniel grew up in the wizarding world, afterall; he would never understand her hunger for it. It was better that he hadn’tasked her before; she doesn’t know why she wanted him to in the first place.

But then the truth unsticks from the back of her throat,some internal force overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands around the back ofher skull and the open questions compelling forward an answer that is true.

“Remember those books I showed you?” she finds herselfsaying. “The ones I used to read as a kid?”

“The ones with that totally incoherent magic system?” heasks, forehead wrinkling, and she stamps down the urge to reach up and smooth themaway with her thumbs and swats him gently on the chest instead.

“Says the guy who read the whole series in a week,” sheteases, aiming for levity. “Well, it’s a series about transformation, right?And, in the Muggle world, the most unambiguously magical thing that you can dois change yourself and do it at your choosing. Right?”

“If you say so,” says Nathaniel doubtfully.

“And people say that the animal you turn into—that sayssomething about who you really are, right? That would be cool. Plus, again, it’sa challenging piece of magic and it would prove that I’m a witch of substanceto everyone – Morgan Le Fay was an Animagus, right? It’s big and dramatic andit’ll prove to her that—”

“That what?” Nathaniel prompts, his voice soft.

“That I’m powerful. That I’m a true witch.”

“Who says you aren’t?”

When she hesitates before answering a second too long,understanding flashes across his face.

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re still worried about not belonging here?” he asks,frustration that has nothing to do with her hands or her teeth slippingthrough.

Rebecca shrugs uncomfortably, hands fisting in the materialof his sweater, as much of a comfort as to remind herself not to panic, not tolook off into the future. It’s another thing he just has never understood, shereminds herself, to hold herself back. Nathaniel has never known a worldwithout magic. He doesn’t know what it’s like to not see it.

To transform at will is proof that you have control overyourself and no one else can take it away from you. When Rebecca first learnedabout Metamorphmagi, she spent days aflame with jealousy, at the idea thatthere were witches who existed with such a perfect ability to transform into whoeverthey wanted to be. But of course, it couldn’t be learned, it had to be borninto. Even magic could be unfair. But still, there are so many spells thatwould reveal more things to her about herself, if she could just read theirmeanings right. Maybe if she had been born into magic she would understand, butshe wasn’t, so she had to study herself into it instead, take the risks that mostpeople don’t have to.

“There’s a world without magic in it,” she finds herselfsaying. “When I’m not here, I’m stuck there, stuck in Scarsdale, and it feelslike none of this was ever real, because it’s impossible to feel magical whenNaomi Bunch is yelling at you about finding a husband and trying to sneaklaxatives into your food. She’s still freaking out about how she’s going toexplain Hogwarts on my college applications, because, you know, she can’t haveher already-delinquent daughter miss Harvard.”

“But you won’t need that,” he points out, in what probablyseems to be reasonable counterpoint, his thumbs ghosting over her temple.

She gives him a weak smile. “Try telling her that.”

“You’re a witch,” he says firmly. “She can’t change that.”

Intellectually, Rebecca knows that. She has potion recipesmemorized by heart, can understand Transfiguration formulas perfectly with anight of concentrated study. Hell, she can physically manifest her physicalbody in another location near-instantaneously, as proven by her flawless Apparitiontest.

But it always feels like she’s missing something more. Thatshe can’t just be a witch, not if she wants to stay. It’s how she felt chasingJosh Chan, that here was someone who melded both worlds so perfectly, embodiedthem both so effortlessly. Josh never worried that one day he might leave thewizarding world and, upon his return, find that it closed itself to him, and shehad wanted that so badly for herself that it nearly led to both their destruction.

“Unless I am thebest, I have no reason to be here,” she whispers.

She feels, rather than sees his exhale.

“For a smart person, you say really weird things sometimes,”he says. She laughs shakily.

“You think so?” she whispers, desperate to hear hisreasoning. She stares hard at the prefect badge pinned just above his breast,the enamel still new and unmarked and the only real difference from hers isthat it is green, not red. It’s strange; for all of the fights they have hadover the years, for all that she knows that he finds the Muggle world completelyincomprehensible, she has always felt he understands, fundamentally, what she islooking for at Hogwarts. That he is looking for the same thing, using the samemethods, even if he won’t admit it.

Nathaniel looks at her, blue eyes blown dark, lips red andkiss-bitten and slightly parted. He blinks and shakes his head, refocusing.

“I don’t know what it means for you, but…I can’t imagineHogwarts without you,” he says at last, and the sincerity of it sends tendrilsof what can only be elation, white-gold and jittery, coursing through herveins, unfurling at her fingertips and down to her toes.

“It’s good to hear you say it,” she says.

But she’s already promised herself—don’t mix up boys andmagic again, don’t confuse cause and effect, so when she brings her hands up tocup his jaw in turn it’s an unspoken gratitude, but the next words out of hermouth pivot them smoothly away from such sentiments.

“But, remember, this is the last time we can do this.”

“What?”

Rebecca grins at his bafflement, suddenly amused, and smoothsher hands down the front of his robes, more conciliatory than arousing. “Comeon, you’ve read the same books I have – part of the process means that I haveto carry a mandrake leaf under my tongue for a month. Can’t take it out. So,uh, all of this kissing and certain…other activities will have to be on hold.”

The intensity, the uncomfortable intimacy of the momentabruptly shifts into something more familiar as Nathaniel heaves a long sigh,put-out, but not particularly troubled.

“I mean, we could work around that,” he says.

“We could,” she hums in agreement. “But I just thought youshould know what you’re getting into.”

“Of course,” he agrees. “It just means that we better notwaste our time today.”

“Please,” she says, going on her toes again to kiss himproperly, relief at having an ally overpowering the trepidation that whateverdelicate balance exists between them is not sustainable, too easy to transforminto something else without a chance of going back.

[smallblueandloud]

perhaps a royai neighbors/roommates au ?

okay so i feel like i’ve read enough fic about royai that this isn’t going to be entirely original but like. who cares? let’s do this. send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons for it (especially crossovers!)

roy is a scientist who works at a university doing research. he doesn’t teach, but he does help some graduate students with their various final projects.

(he’s currently working with the youngest person to ever go through the program, the kid’s a genius in physics and is studying biomedical engineering. his project involves building a set of prosthetic limbs for his brother, who lost them in an accident when they were young. his name’s edward, but everyone calls him the alchemist because he can do literally anything with whatever materials are available. anyways.)

roy himself is studying nuclear power and how it can be used in low income countries without a whole lot of anything. he doesn’t like to talk about how his former job involved one of those low income countries.

there’s a woman who moves in next door. he doesn’t see her for the first couple of weeks - edward is making a fuss about some homeopathic doctor who’s claiming he can make some girl’s leg grow back, when ed knows she needs a prosthesis to be able to keep living on her own - but at some point, he runs into her while she’s coming back from walking her dog.

she’s really pretty, by the way. super pretty. that has nothing to do with the fact that he agrees to help her figure out how the washing machine works, just as soon as she lets her dog into her apartment. nothing at all. shut up, maes.

her name is riza. her dog is named black hayate, and she just moved to the city.

when he asks her where she used to live, she looks away, and he takes his cue and shuts up. he sees the look in her eyes and knows better than to press.

it turns out that her father wrote some of the research that roy used at his... last job (that’s when he refuses to answer her questions) and that her best friend is dating one of roy’s colleagues.

she’s passionate about social justice, and she’s working for a nonprofit that’s helping some of (one of) the same countries that roy’s trying to help with his research.

the country in question, by the way, is ishval, and basically amestris screwed them over while they were still creating a centralized government, america style. they destroyed their economy for oil (using physicists to figure out the quickest and cheapest way to extract it) and used the army to... dispose of everyone who tried to argue.

riza figures it out when she sees him go stiff when ishval’s on the news and when he tells her what countries stand to benefit from his research and when she remembers that her father was an expert at oil extraction but never wanted to publish his book because he knew what people could do with such information.

she confronts him, and confesses that she was a sniper with the military around that time as well.

“all we can do is try to make up for what we’ve done” she says, and roy thinks he’s finally found someone who understands the impossible thing he’s trying to achieve (not the science, because science is only limited by the imagination, but redemption)

so they spend time together, and they heal. eventually they move in together, but their relationship is still very low key, and they spend more time at dinner discussing their plans for halting amestrian action in ishval and making sure the ishvalans have the resources to become independent than they do going on dates.

did i say low key? i meant low-as-edward’s-height key. as in, rebecca and maes each know that their best friend has a significant other that they’ve moved in with, but they’ve only met the s.o. like once. 

edward meets riza at the university sometimes (he’s helping roy with the ishval project, from a much more medical standpoint, and she’s become the organization’s liason with the university for obvious reasons) but he doesn’t realize they’re together for years.

he only really finds out because they kiss once in front of him as they’re passing each other in the hall and his thought process... dies. (it goes something like: “huh, mustang and hawkeye know each other! wow, they’re friends. oh, look, they’re- WHAT.” those five seconds on the university surveillance tapes are saved and replayed every year at his birthday)

ed invites them to his wedding to his childhood best friend and business partner, winry rockbell. they waltz in the middle of the dance floor as everyone parties around them and smile. they’re happy. and they’re slowly, slowly, redeeming themselves.

that’s the best they can ask for.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

The Princess Project: Part 5

Fandom: Marvel (Royalty AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Prince Bucky have been arranged to marry. You hate each other, plus Bucky already loves another, Duchess Natasha. In 3 months, you have to make the king and queen believe that Natasha is the right one for Bucky instead of you.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: just for kicks, i’m gonna do an epilogue.

After Bucky almost kissing you, you decided to avoid him as much as possible. You were conflicted. You were introduced to a new side of Bucky, one that made your heart want to burst out of your chest. That couldn’t happen. 

You requested Nat to tell him not to show up at her lessons, despite being confused, he obliged. Every time Bucky asked if you wanted to hang out, you shot him down. He didn’t understand. He thought that you two were doing okay and now you were avoiding him? That just wouldn’t do. He was hurt.

So after Nat left with her lesson with you, he barged into the library, “Alright! What gives?!” his loud voice startling you.

You turned around, holding your hand to your chest, “What on Earth?”

“You’ve been avoiding me for weeks! So I ask again: what gives?’

You shrugged as you passed him, “I’ve been busy.”

Bucky followed you out, “Bullshit! I’ve been asking around and you haven’t been doing jack shit!”

You snapped at him, “I don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, James.”

Bucky scoffed, “So it’s James again? I thought we were passed all this! I thought we were doing okay!”

You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter. Our friendship doesn’t matter. Natasha is almost done with her lessons. She’s improved immensely, so my time here will be cut short, which means we don’t have to see each other again unless necessary.”

“Why are you doing this?!’

“Because you’re going to marry, Natasha! Once you’re with her, you’ll forget all about me. So there’s no point. None! So just forget about this forming friendship. Drop it. It’s not happening. You go be with your love and I’ll be left alone. Again.” after your last word, you spun on your heel and ran to your rooms. A loud slam echoing off the walls. 

Bucky ran his hand down his face in frustration. How the hell can he fix this? He had to fix this?

The next day, Natasha’s lessons finally ended. You gave her a congratulatory hug and made your way to the throne room to speak with the king and queen. 

Nat stood in-between you and Bucky. You stood there vocalizing your reports on Natasha’s changes. Your eyes shined with pride, something that Bucky noticed and found endearing. He, of course, noticed the changes in Nat and he couldn’t help but be reminded of you. It was like Nat was you, but not. He’d never admit it, but at one point, Bucky yearned for you to be in Nat’s place. A thought he shot down immediately. You didn’t want him. At all. A fact that made his chest hurt.

“And James?” Bucky looked up at his mother’s voice, 

“Sorry?”

“Do you think Nat is ready?”

He looked at Nat, she looking at him. Hope filled her eyes as she shyly smiled at him. He quickly glanced at you, your eyes were down, looking at your feet. He just wished you would look at him. He then look at his parents, “Absolutely.”

King George nodded, “We’ll put her to the test. Next weekend, we’re holding a ball for Rebecca’s birthday. There will be a formal dinner held.” he stared straight at Natasha, “This will be your chance to see how much you’ve learned.”

Nat nodded, “Of course, your highness.”

He then looked at you, “Princess Y/N, you will attend as well.”

You looked at him confused, “Pardon?”

He chuckled, “Surely, you’d like to see your hard work put into action?”

You sighed in defeat, “If you insist your majesty.”

Throughout the week, you found yourself spending a lot of time with Princess Rebecca. She was very knowledgeable and kind, and just a wonderful person to be around. One day, you were spending time with her in the gardens.

“You’ve caused my brother a lot of distress, Y/N,” she said with a smirk.

You waved her comment off, “He’ll get over it.”

She shook her head, “I don’t think he will. He’s asked me a lot about you. How you’re doing? If you’ve spoken about him. What have you done to him? he asked with a giggle.

You sighed, “He’s just butthurt that I’ve decided not to be his friend anymore.”

“You decided that after hanging out with him for a day?”

“Becca, you don’t understand. Once he and Natasha get married, I’ll be all alone again. He says he’ll be there for me, but I highly doubt it. People have said that to me all the time...they never kept their promise. I’m just saving myself from hurting again. This has happened too many times. I can’t let it happen again. Besides, he’ll never have to deal with me again. I’m sure he’d eventually see what a blessing that’ll be.”

The day of Rebecca’s party came and you were relieved. Finally, once this day was over you could go back to your country and forget about Bucky.

Throughout the day, you distracted yourself with helping prepare for the party. You set up decorations with Wanda and helped lay out the food. A lot of the servants were confused by your actions, but the more help the better, right?

Rebecca even started to help. You stood on a latter, hanging up streamers along the walls. Rebecca assisted with handing you tape talking to you throughout the time. 

And Bucky? Bucky stood across the hall watching you. Enjoying the smile on your face and your burst of giggles. Last night, after being intimate with Natasha, he came to a disturbing conclusion: he liked you. Really liked you. But you wanted nothing to do with him, afraid you’d be cast aside. Bucky was conflicted. He felt so guilty. Natasha worked so hard to be the person his parents would approve of. And how did he repay her? By falling for someone else. Fate was too cruel.

“Y/N!” at the sound of his sister’s cries, his eyes focused on you. You were losing your balance on the latter. Without a second thought, Bucky rushed over to the otherside of the hall, holding out his arms. You fell off the latter, closing your eyes, awaiting for the impact of the hard floor, but it never came.

“Are you okay?” You opened your eyes and met with familiar blue ones.

You quickly scrambled out of Bucky’s arms, “Y-Yeah. Thanks.” You turned to Rebecca, “I forgot I had something to do. I’ll see you at the party.” You ran out of the hall, Bucky’s cries falling deaf upon your ears.

Bucky’s shoulders sagged and Rebecca patted her brother’s shoulders, “It’s okay, Jamie.”

He shook his head, “No, it isn’t, Becca. I’m fucked! Nat’s done so much to be the princess mom and dad wants her to be and I end up falling for Y/N! I’m royally fucked! How the hell am I gonna get out of this? If I go forth with marrying Nat, I feel like I’ll never be happy. If I end up telling her I don’t wanna marry her, she’ll hate me forever that may result in breaking the alliance with us. What the fuck is my life right now?!”

“Just follow your heart, Jamie.” 

He scoffed, “Easier said than done. My life isn’t the only one at stake here...”

“-and he caught me and I just stared into his eyes-those beautiful blue eyes! God, they’re so blue-anyway, and I panicked! I can’t stand to be near him because when I am, I just feel my heart breaking and this whole situation is so fucked up! Wanda, what am I supposed to do?!” you rambled as you paced around your room. Wanda sat on your bed listening to you.

You fell back onto your bed with an “oomph!” and looked at your handmaiden and friend. She shrugged, “Honestly, I’m not sure what to tell you, Y/N.”

You frowned at her, “Thanks, Wanda. You’re a lot of help,” you said sarcastically. You groaned, “Fuck it. After tonight, I’m leaving this place and never coming back again.”

Wanda giggled, “Dramatic. So you’re just going to forget about me?”

Your face softened, “Of course not. I’ll send a car or plane or boat or whatever you prefer for you to visit me.”

She smiled wide, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

You hopped off your bed, “Alright. Now let’s start packing my things.”

As Bucky headed towards the hall, he had in his mind to talk to you. No matter how many times you shot him down or tried to avoid you, he was going to talk to you and you were going to listen. Like it or not, his words will be heard. 

He entered the hall and music was playing. Family and friends of his family were scattered about. Some were dancing, some were chatting, some were drinking. A typical party. 

His eyes scanned the room for you and he spotted you by the dessert table with Wanda. You looked amazing. You wore this sky blue dress that reminded him of Cinderella.

He was just about to walk towards you, until his sister’s arrival was announced. Everyone turned towards the doors and applauded as she entered. Bucky smiled and walked up to his sister, offering his arm, “You look beautiful, Becca.”

She smiled back, “Thanks, Jamie.”

Throughout the night, you were basically a wallflower. You hung around Wanda a lot, just watching everyone. You constantly spotted Natasha and observed how restrained and reserved she now was. She spoke politely with other guests and she danced with a few, knowing exactly how to waltz now. When she ate, she ate respectively and exactly how you taught her. She was absolutely perfect. The idea made you proud, but it also hurt you. 

After dinner, that’s when the party went full swing. Many of the older nobles decided to leave, which left the younger ones to let loose and be more free. You noted that Natasha did just that, but in consideration. She hung herself off Bucky, of course. They were perfect together, you had to admit. Despite you hating their lovey dovey attitude, you knew they were made for each other.

You sat at a table all by yourself. You insisted on Wanda dancing with her crush, Bucky’s fencing coach, Vision. They loved each other as well. That was blatantly clear. And you were left all alone again.

You stood up, drying the impending tears from your eyes and walked swiftly towards the exit. Your abruptness made you noticeable to Bucky, whom was by the drinks table. This was his chance. He quickly set his glass onto the table and ran after you. 

You ran up the stairs and towards your rooms, ignoring the echoes of footsteps that followed you.

“Y/N! Wait!” You knew that voice.

“Leave me alone, James!” you called out.

“Y/N, please!” he ran after you. You pushed your door open and right as you were about to shut it, Bucky burst in. 

You stumbled back, your face stern, “James, leave!”

“No!” he noticed your teary eyes and his voice softened, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter.”

Bucky swiftly approached you, “It does matter, Y/N. You’re crying.”

You whimpered as he wiped your tears away with his thumbs, “Please, go away.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m hurting. I’m all alone and-and I hate it.”

“But you’re not alone.”

“Yes, I am. Wanda has Vision. You have Natasha. Rebecca has her friends. I have no one.”

“You have me. I told you-”

“You don’t mean though. No one ever does.”

Bucky’s face hardened. He was upset. Upset that you didn’t take his promise seriously. Upset at all the people who’s hurt you. He took your face in his hands and rested his forehead against yours, “I’m here, Y/N. I’ll always be here. You have me. You’re not alone.” without even thinking, he leaned forward and captured your lips. He felt more tears falls, the wetness transferring to his cheeks.

You pulled away, “Stop. This...stop playing with my emotions, James. It’s cruel.”

“Y/N, I know it may be too late to say this, but I like you.”

“You can’t! Not after everything we’ve gone through! After everything I’ve done! You can’t just throw it away!”

“I’d throw everything away for you.”

You turned your back to him and sighed, “One night.”

“Huh?” 

“Let’s just enjoy this one night together and then we’ll go our separate ways.”

Bucky looked at you confused, “Y/N-”

“I’d rather have one night with you than none at all. James, we have our own duties for our countries. I’m not letting you ruin your future for me. So please, let’s just enjoy this night while we can.”

“Okay.”

That night was filled with stolen kisses in your room. You held each other close as you laid in your bed. You talked about anything your mind came up with. 

As you began to fall asleep, you heard Bucky mumble, “I wish things were different.”

You replied before drifting off, “Me too.”

The next morning, Bucky tried to cuddle with you, but he found your side of the bed empty. He sat up looking around, “Y/N?”

He heard a honk outside the window and he got up, walking out onto the balcony. He looked below to see a car donning your country’s flag. Servants were bringing your luggage into the car. He watched as you eventually walked out, Wanda and Rebecca in tow. You turned and hugged them both. The faint sound of your giggling reached his ears. 

Bucky found himself clenching his fists and his eyes starting to water. You were really leaving without saying good-bye to him?

Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you looked up to see Bucky. His eyes were filled with so much hurt. Before getting into the car, you mouthed, “I’m sorry.” the door was shut and a few seconds later, the car drove off with you in it. 

It wa for the best wasn’t it? 

[itsagoodluckkiss]

You Are My Family

Hey, so, this is a belated New Year’s Eve fanfic, please excuse me, I have a lot on my plate these days. I really hope you’ll enjoy this. Excuse me for any mistake in this.

Pairings: Jake x F!MC

Warnings: None, really, this is just a cliché, cute, fluffy fic.

Summary: The gang escaped the island almost a year ago. Jake has cleared his name and has returned to Louisian for a while. The holidays are coming up and MC is spending them alone. Jake’s family invites her over without him knowing.

*couillon: idiot in Cajun French, a common language in Louisiana.

The cold winter air hit Jake’s face as he stared out in the night sky, sitting in the porch of his childhood home. He wasn’t familiar with Louisiana’s changed climate; it used to be warm and humid even in the winter. But his home state had changed, same as him.

He cleared his name only a few months ago, with the help of his friends. He made the decision to return to Louisiana, to return to his family, for a while at least. And he was adjusting to his new life, trying to figure out what to do next.

He was still talking with everyone, most of all with her. Sometimes he visited them too. She respected and understood his decision to return. He asked her to come with him but the unresolved matters that troubled her made her stay back. He didn’t like the thought of leaving her alone after they escaped that damned island but he had to respect her decision too. They wouldn’t be away for each other for long anyway.

He hadn’t told his family everything that had happened all these years he was missing. It was hard to tell them about what happened to him. It was difficult to even talk about the smallest things. He wouldn’t even talk to them about her that much. Only the most necessary stuff. He didn’t feel comfortable and everyone knew it so they wouldn’t push him. They were just relieved he was back.

Looking into the starry night, he wished he could be close to her. He missed her voice and her laugh, the smile she would give him, her hugs and kisses. He missed her. Video and phone calls weren’t enough. But she had a life back there, she was still struggling with her college courses, trying to catch up the lost time and he couldn’t intervene. He didn’t even know what he would do with his life now.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, his mom sitting next to him right after, a warm smile on her face as she ruffled his hair affectionately.

“You still can’t sleep a lot boy, can you?”

“I’m fine mom. I just wanted to… stargaze I guess.”

“You do that a lot?”

He let out a small sigh and smiled at her.

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

“Thinking of someone specific?”

He didn’t respond.

“Maybe that girl you always spent hours talking to but we barely know about her?”

He chuckled. His mom subtly kept trying to get him to talk about her. She knew MC made him happy and always tried to learn more about her. He was slowly opening up about her to his mum, talking to her about how much she changed him and helped him come back home. Tonight was another night he felt like talking. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled nervously.

“I guess… I miss her.”

“You plan on going back? Like, actually stay there”

“Yes... I will, in a few weeks. I just wish she could come here for a while too.”

“Why don’t you invite her here then? New Year’s Eve is coming in a few days. So is her birthday, right? You’ve told me she doesn’t have family?”

“Yeah…”

“Then tell her to come. I don’t want this girl to be alone these days!”

“She… has other plans.”

She had told him he would spend Christmas and New Year with Diego and his parents. Also, maybe she didn’t want to come to his place just yet and he could understand it. No need to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m not gonna push you to do it, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

He sighed heavily and smiled at his mother once again, giving her a hug before getting up.

“Thanks mom. I’m gonna go and try to sleep for a while. Goodnight.”

And with that, he went back into the house.

Holidays were always a depressive period for her. Watching everyone around her surrounded by their loved ones when she was alone was hard. Having Diego with her the last few years made her feel less lonely. Now he was trying to reconnect with his parents so he would spend these days with them and she would be alone again. He invited her of course, but she declined. Being a dead weight was the last thing she wanted. She knew Diego didn’t think that way about her, but she did and that was enough.

She told Jake she would go with Diego though. Knowing Jake, if he learned she would spend the holidays alone, he would come to her in no time and she didn’t want that. He needed to spend time with his family, he needed his peace and quiet and she wouldn’t blow this up for him. After all, she was used to being alone.

Sean was kind enough to invite her for dinner at his home with his family at Christmas. He actually invited everyone who wouldn’t go back to their homes for the holidays or would be alone. It was fun spending time with Michelle, Zahra and Sean but still, something was missing.

She missed Jake. They hadn’t seen each other in two months and it was too much for her, after being close to him all the time on La Huerta. However, it was better like this. He had to reconnect with his family, to understand what he would do next. She was also worried about meeting his family like that. Jake returning after so many years home, after escaping a hell island, being in a relationship with this random girl, it just… didn’t feel right. They all needed time. So she didn’t care about spending the holidays alone.

Tomorrow it would be New Year’s Eve. Her plan was to spend all day in her apartment, catching up with the TV shows she hadn’t seen in ages. She had just gotten back to her house after her morning run when an unknown number called her. Curious, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Is this MC?”

“Uh, yeah… who is it?”

“Hey, this is Rebecca, Jake’s sister.”

She froze for a second, not responding. Why would Jake’s sister call her? Had something bad happened to him? Only the thought of this made her feel sick. As if she had read her mind, Rebecca talked back nervously.

“No, don’t worry! He’s fine, everyone’s fine! Nothing happened! Breathe a bit, okay?! I just called to ask you something!”

She let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank God, okay, everyone’s good, glad for that. You just… startled me.”

“Heh, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Uh, so, you wanted to ask me something?”

“Oh yeah! Yeah, so, since my buffoon of a brother can’t bring himself to ask you, I thought I would do him a favor and invite you over here for the New Year. He will thank me later. If you hop on a bus now, you’ll be here just in time.”

“Woah there! I mean, I would love to but I’m alread-”

“I know you are spending New Year’s alone.”

“Wha-, wait, what?! How-”

“Called your best friend first, just to make sure.”

She could hear the smirk in her voice, the same mischief Jake had. Damn! She knew she had to warn Diego about this.

“Creepy much?”

“Yeah, well, what can we do? Look, I know you may feel uncomfortable but we want you here, like, a lot! He doesn’t talk much but when he actually does, he just keeps blabbering about you. That idiot misses you and I’m sure you miss him too so… please… come?”

She bit her lip for a second. She did miss him. And Jake had told her once that his sister never said please. So she pleading her to come must mean something, right? Reluctantly, she answered.

“Okay… yeah… I will come.”

“Thank God I don’t have to cancel the bus ticket, I already paid for it. My birthday gift for you.”

“Wow, okay. You have arranged everything already, haven’t you?”

“I’ll text you the details, don’t worry.”

“Okay, one more question. How did you get my number?”

“Let’s just say that Jake’s really funny when he loses his stuff, especially his phone.”

She was indeed Jake’s sister.

He couldn’t really comprehend why his mother bothered to prepare so much stuff when it was going to be just the three of them, along with Jake’s grandparents. And since Rebecca had slacked off and was missing the last two hours, he was made to help around. He didn’t complain much though, keeping his mind a bit distracted wasn’t a bad thing.

“Jake, put this there please and damn, do something for that hair, preferably a haircut!”

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m very good, I’m fine. Now, your sister will be home any second now and we have everything ready, perfect.”

“It’s just gonna be the five of us, what’s up with this fuss?”

Before his mother could answer, he heard his sister’s car. He passed through the hall and into the living room when the door swung open. Without looking at her, he chuckled.

“Where were you, couillon? Running errands?”

“Shut up Jake, I just thought I would go and bring you your present.”

“What are you even talking ab-”

He turned his head to his sister, only to stop talking abruptly, shock in his look quickly turning into excitement. He saw her coming in behind Rebecca, a somehow anxious look on her face. Her simply braided hair fell on her shoulder, a soft smile spreading across her face when her gaze found his.

In a flash, Jake run to her and lifted her into his arms, spinning her around, causing her to laugh and wrap him in a tight hug. She pecked his cheek as he let her down, still holding her tight, grinning like a five year old child.

“How did you get here?! I thought-”

“Long story short, your sister is very persistent, just like you.”

He glanced at his sister, who was smirking triumphantly, with a “Thank You” look on his face, then kissed the girl in his arms softly for only a moment before his mother came into the room. MC broke away awkwardly, her cheeks blushing slightly.

“H- hello Mrs McKenzie.”

“So you are MC.”

She looked at both of them strictly for a few seconds, her eyes finally fixed on her. Then, she broke down laughing, rushing to her side and pulling her in a bone-crashing hug. Jake let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“It’s wonderful that you’re here, I wanted to meet you since the first time Jake talked to me about you, love.”

His mom gave a kiss on both her cheeks and she laughed, the anxiety she had all day vanishing into thin air. The rest of the evening flowed quite smoothly. His family seemed to love her more every time she spoke. His mom was basically all over her, asking her all kinds of questions and, to Jake’s surprise, she eagerly answered them. His granddad teased him about how he managed to find a girl like that, Jake laughing as a response. It was almost midnight now and they all gathered outside to watch the fireworks. Jake wrapped her in his arms, resting his head on her shoulder.

“This might be the best New Year’s Eve.”

“Might?”

“Okay, surely is.”

“That’s better.”

“Your birthday’s coming up too.”

“Oh… huh. Yeah I guess.”

She never really thought about her birthday, another result of being alone. No one really cared about that day so why would she?

“Then I guess we gotta do something special tomorrow, Princess. You’re staying here, right?”

“Your sister didn’t allow me to stay anywhere else.”

“That’s my sister! But I wouldn’t let you go anyway.”

He gave her a soft kiss on the base of her neck and she giggled. Fireworks went off as the time changed, the new year on its way. Holding her into his arms, Jake couldn’t wish for anything else. Almost all the people he loved and cared about surrounded him and the one he had come to love the most stared at him with her loving eyes. They shared a kiss, the fireworks still painting the sky.

“Hey kids. Not to interrupt but…”

They both turned to his mom’s voice and she gasped. His mom was holding a simple birthday cake, smiling at her.

“I know it’s not much but sadly I didn’t have more time and I-”

“It’s… it’s perfect, I love this.”

Tears of joy ran down her face as she stared at the cake, then at him and his mom. The only other person that had ever brought her a cake was Diego. But this was different. She was surrounded by his family, who barely knew her, and they were welcoming her in the most heartwarming way. They sang the song and she blew her candles, wishing for more moments like this.

Later in the night, after helping around and getting done with cleaning, the two of them lied down on Jake’s bed. Her head resting on his shoulder, she scanned his room.

“I guess you have made some changes in here, right?”

“Yeah well, I left this room at 18, it didn’t quite fit with me now.”

“I can still see the Star Wars figurines there.”

“Hey, those are valuable!”

“And I love your Harry Potter books, rare editions?”

“You know it.”

They share a laugh, her arms wrapping around his torso, his hand caressing her waist. He kissed her forehead and brushed her hair softly.

“I have to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Why did you lie to me though? About going to Diego’s for the holidays?”

She bit her lip nervously. He was right, asking her about that but how could she explain that to him? With a heavy sigh, she answered.

“I just… I didn’t want to be a dead weight to anyone. I knew you all needed time with your families and I didn’t feel-”

“You are my family.”

Jake fixed his eyes on hers, a serious look on his face.

“You are the one I love. You are my family too. And I never want you to feel like you are a burden to me, never.”

She pouted a bit and he melted into a smile.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just want you to know that I’m always here for you, even when I’m away. I always want you close to me, alright Princess?”

She nodded at him and he pecked her lips. The usual smirk returned on his face.

“Okay, so, what does the birthday girl want us to do tomorrow? I couldn’t get you a present last year, being stuck on the island and all, so I’m going to make it up this year.”

“Honestly, being here with you is the best present I’ve ever received.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m wonderful.”

She punched his arm playfully, both of them chuckling.

“Real talk now, I really want to show you around. Shreveport is beautiful this time of the year. You can take many photographs too, you always do that.”

“If you allow me to photograph you too, then yes.”

“Damn, okay, deal, I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

She beamed at him and kissed him deeply. His fingers running through her hair, his tongue pressing between her now parted lips, allowing him access into her mouth, breathing each other in as the kiss got more passionate. He pulled her closer and in a few seconds she was on top of him, straddling his waist. They broke away a few moments later, catching their breath.

“You got something on your mind, Princess?”

“Maybe.”

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

The Hopes And Fears Of All The Years, Part One

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mossdonnatella!!! A silly and delightful AU for a silly and delightful friend--one that only you would ever have requested. To understand this fic, you have to know the Goat Guy story. 

Penelope x Schneider, One Day At A Time. Also on AO3.

“Ah!  You are back again!  Have you married your son off yet?  I can raise my offer to nine goats and three chickens for your son to marry my daughter.”

The woman rolled the ‘r’ in ‘raise’ dramatically, which fascinated Schneider enough that he almost didn’t noticed the daughter a few feet away. Her curls were still springing in every direction, but she seemed taller this year. 

She offered him a small smile, and a shrug, clearly accustomed to the way her mother liked to tease the customers. 

1992.

Schneider’s upbringing was not especially religious. Father wasn’t a spiritual or sentimental man; after he remarried, his new wife was indifferent to faith. And Schneider’s mother didn’t have any beliefs he was aware of--certainly none that had taken root in him during his first few years.

His second stepmother, who became a severe and sometimes cruel presence in his life when he was nine, wouldn’t even let the staff celebrate the holidays. If she had a religion, Schneider wanted no part of it.

But right before his fourteenth birthday, his father met Mila on a business trip and things changed for the better.

Mila was from exotic Los Angeles. She was kind to him. And when she and Father married, it was understood that she would travel back home to California several times a year.

It was her idea to take Schneider along in the winters, giving him a break from the cold and pulling him into her cheerful Christmas traditions.

Caroling displays downtown, fake snow surrounding the palm trees...his third stepmom really loved Christmas.

And though he put slim odds on her surviving the first year of marriage to Father, Schneider loved her. So he went willingly, to the weirdly warm part of America where she showed him off at festive concerts and introduced him to the confusing spectacle of Catholic Mass.

Her favorite event, she told him that year, was Bethlehem.

“The church goes all out,” Mila said, patting her hair in front of the hall mirror. "Started doing it back when I was a girl. They rent this massive building, and fill it with animals and stalls and everyone is in costume and in character.”

“Costumes?” Schneider slouched next to the door, waiting for her to finish getting ready. He was hoping the mouthwash he’d used and the expanse of Father’s towncar between them would keep Mila from catching the alcohol on his breath. The maid needed to learn to hide her stash better. “What kind of characters?”

"Well, like people in Bethlehem.” Mila sighed at his blank expression. The boy’s father wouldn’t let her take him to church regularly, he called it ‘nonsense.’ She suspected it would do Schneider good to believe in something.

“It’s like an old-fashioned town marketplace. When you enter, they give you pennies and you can trade them for little presents,. Then there are real sellers with food and crafts you can buy with your own money.”

Schneider nodded. Mila patted his cheek on their way out. “And they have the best apple cider you’ve ever tasted in your life. You’re going to love it, sweetie.”  

Compared to Vancouver in December, L.A. was a tropical paradise, but Mila made him wear a coat and hat anyway. The hat was brown and knitted and his neck itched.

“Just remember,” Mila told him as they waited to enter, those around him shivering in what apparently passed for cold there. “Everybody’s in character. It might seem weird at first but I promise, it’s fun.”

The place was buzzing with crowds of people once they got in. Schneider couldn’t figure out where to look. Loud men walked the aisles with trays of snacks, their accents reminding him that he was far from home. Colorful booths were full of clothes and handmade gifts and old books. 

As they strolled past the booths, his gaze was drawn to one selling ponchos. The woman standing inside it was gesturing broadly while she spoke rapid Spanish with a customer. She was petite, inches shorter than Schneider since his recent growth spurt, but her volume carried down the corridor. 

The ponchos were cool...though he couldn’t imagine wearing one back in the ‘Couve. They were as bright as the Latin lady’s laugh, which rang out as he and Mila arrived at the stall.

“Ay, welcome, friends!” She startled Schneider by pressing her lips to both his cheeks.

“What a handsome young man. I think this must be your first time to my stall. I am sure I would remember ju.”

He shot Mila a panicked look, but she just smiled and nodded as if to say, Play along.

“Um, thank you. I like your...stuff.”

“What a flatterer. You know, you seem strong--and intelligent. You would make a very good husband for my daughter. This is your mother? I’ll give you six goats for your son’s marriage to my daughter.”

Schneider spotted a teenage girl half-hidden behind a stack of ponchos, looking absolutely mortified. That must be the daughter, he thought, watching her glare in her mother’s direction like she would rather be anywhere else in the world. He couldn’t blame her. 

He was so embarrassed that he didn’t even bother to correct the woman about him and Mila not being related. 

His stepmom shook her head with a polite chuckle. “That’s a very kind offer, of course, but we could not possibly accept. He’s far too young to be married.” 

With one last glance behind him at the women and their ponchos, Schneider followed Mila as she moved on.

1993.

Surprisingly, Mila was still his stepmom when Christmas arrived again.

Schneider heard her screaming at his dad sometimes, about his former nannies and babysitters and women at the office. But he was still stinging from how easily Father had dismissed his dream of becoming an entertainer, and he didn’t want to know about their problems. 

He had figured out the ideal ratio for watering down wine in the cellar to make the bottles look the same, and the estate’s cook took so many casual swigs of sherry and Schnapps during meal prep that Schneider’s attempts to drown his feelings were easy to hide.

Mostly, leaving for Los Angeles again was a relief. 

Now that he knew what to expect, Schneider was actually excited for his second trip to Bethlehem. Mila was right, that apple cider was amazing...and he wanted to see if the man who built music boxes was still there. This year he was determined to buy one and see if he could figure out how it worked.

Before the apple cider though, and before the woodworking stalls, they came upon a cheerful array of ponchos, and he realized the woman from last year was beckoning him closer.

“Ah!  You are back again!  Have you married your son off yet?  I can raise my offer to nine goats and three chickens for your son to marry my daughter.”

The woman rolled the ‘r’ in ‘raise’ dramatically, which fascinated Schneider enough that he almost didn’t noticed the daughter a few feet away. Her curls were still springing in every direction, but she seemed taller this year. 

She offered him a small smile, and a shrug, clearly accustomed to the way her mother liked to tease the customers. 

Schneider was bewildered by the woman’s attention. Somehow, a year later, she still remembered him and the woman she had been trying to give goats to? He didn’t think he’d ever remained in someone’s memory for an entire year.

He was certain Father forgot for long periods of time that he even had a son. And after bringing him into the world, his mother had vanished and never looked back. 

Mila refused the offer again. “Not enough goats,” she said with a wink in his direction.

Schneider exchanged mortified looks with the daughter, and he and his stepmom went in search of cider. But when the woman at the poncho waved farewell, adding a phrase in Spanish he didn’t understand, her smile stayed with him.

1994-1997.

It happened again. And again. For two more years, Mila took him to California for Christmas and they went to Bethlehem and without fail--without shame--the poncho lady tried to trade goats for his marriage to her daughter. 

Then Mila caught Father with Rebecca, and a vengefully tossed mint julep was the end of that.

Though Schneider was far too old for a nanny, Rosa was somehow back in the picture before business took them all to America. Father married her as soon as the divorce papers were dry.

Before things fell apart, Pepperdine had been Mila’s idea. A Christian school to help him clean his life up, in Malibu, where he’d be near her family.

He went anyway, after she was gone, because the tuition was paid and it didn’t really matter anymore, where he was or what he did. 

But it was too weird to talk to Mila, let alone see her, now that she wasn’t his stepmom. Father called her ‘that woman’ and berated Schneider over any ties they still had to each other, real or imaginary.

Drinking until he couldn’t spell his own name was easier than fighting about it. Lines of cocaine that turned him into somebody else entirely washed the worst of it away.

He stopped returning Mila’s calls, and he let his student visa expire, and he happily forgot all about Bethlehem along with everything else that used to make him happy.

Until he landed in rehab, and it was Mila--not Father, not Rosa, not the bros of Full Sail, but Mila, who he hadn’t spoken to in more than a year--who showed up and yelled and hugged and sat by his side while he cried.

She wasn’t his stepmother anymore, but she was the closest thing he had, at twenty, to a real parent. 

After he left the detox center, she invited him to join her again at Bethlehem.

[walkmeblowbyblow]

The Kind of Trouble that You Enjoy, pt. 2 [Jack Lowden fic]

Summary: She briefly wonders if Jack is thinking about what they did the last time they met.

Warnings: Sex

Word count: ~5,500

Disclaimer: None of this really happened.

A/N: This took me a bit longer than I expected (and it kind of blew up along the way), but here it is, finally.

I also gave my protagonist a name, I felt like she deserved one.

You can find the first part of this fic here.

“I’m not late, am I?” she asks, stepping in through the front door.

“Eilidh! You made it!” Her friend, Rebecca, throws her arms around her, hugs her through her thick winter coat.

“Come in, you’re not late at all. Eilidh’s here!” Rebecca calls into the flat, receiving a chorus of greetings. Then she turns to her and asks, “Daisy couldn’t make it?”

“What?” she asks, pausing mid-motion as she’s unwrapping her knit scarf. “Oh, yeah, no, not tonight,” she says as Rebecca’s words reach her brain. Her cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.

She slips past her friend, into the living room, where she’s engulfed with warmth and happy chatter. She flops down on the sofa, as all the chairs around the kitchen table are occupied.

“So,” Rebecca says, bringing her a glass of bubbly. “Had a good day?”

She doesn’t get to answer, because the doorbell rings just then.

“Oh, don’t worry, Jamie will get it,” Rebecca says at once and seats herself next to her.

She tells Rebecca about a project she’s just finished, one that Rebecca has had to hear a lot about over the months as she’s vented to her.

“Anyway, it’s your day, I don’t want to talk about myself,” she concludes. “Can I give you my present already?”

“Aww, you bought me a present! Not just yet, we’ll still have to wait for… Jack!”

She looks towards the hall and suddenly she’s struggling for breath. Her senses must be playing tricks on her. It’s as if she’s seen a ghost.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” Rebecca exclaims and gets up to greet the man.

Not a ghost then, if her friends can see him too. She feels lightheaded, her heart is pounding in her throat.

Jack embraces Rebecca, then the other men sitting at the table. Lastly, he turns to her, a smile on his face, not only on his mouth but also in his eyes, and no matter how hard she tries to push those thoughts aside, she’s reminded of his mouth on her breasts, of his skin against hers, of his fingers between her legs.

“Hey,” Jack greets her, charming as ever.

“Hey,” she stutters back.

Her face is burning when Jack opens his arms for her. Cautiously she lets herself be embraced. His body is warm and strong. She briefly wonders if Jack is thinking about what they did the last time they met but decides she’d rather not know. He could have had sex with dozens of women in this interval, because that’s men for you. She remembers his scent, remembers like it was yesterday.

She doesn’t like this, no.

It’s a relief when they pull apart and Jack looks down at her with a gentle smile on his face. His eyes are a brighter blue, his hair more golden than she remembers.

“How are you?” he asks.

She nods, awed and dizzy, then realises that she should say something in return. “You?”

Her voice comes out too thin, a tad too eager, and she hates herself for it.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You’ve shaved,” she remarks.

Jack runs a hand along his jaw. “Yeah, I have. Feels cold.”

“I bet it does.” Her voice has returned to the usual pitch, and she feels slightly more in command of herself again.

They sit down at the table, make conversation, and she's glad she doesn’t have to do much talking. Their friends are bombarding Jack with questions. Of course, there are questions that she pretends not to hear – questions of women, of Saoirse Ronan and other actresses, and while she looks away, out of the window, she can feel Jack’s stare grazing her. He merely chuckles, says that a gentleman never kisses and tells. Their male friends are in an uproar over this, but Jack keeps quiet.

She doesn’t even care; the only reason why she’s uncomfortable is that she was caught off-guard. If somebody had told her Jack would come, she wouldn’t have reacted this strongly. She would suspect that she was kept in the dark deliberately, but she’s never spoken to anyone about Jack and that one night.

At any rate, Jack’s presence doesn’t manage to ruin the entire night – Rebecca is the woman of the hour, the centre of all attention, and rightly so. There’s enough noise and laughter to drown out any intrusive thoughts. Still, hers and Jack’s eyes meet more than once over the course of the evening, and her heart always gives an annoying extra thud.

She has a hunch as to what will happen when she gets up from her chair and separates herself from the group. She really wants to test her theory, but it isn’t until later in the evening that she finds the courage to do so. She doesn’t even meet Jack’s eyes as she gets up and heads for the kitchen. Not long after, she hears the squeak of a chair against the floor, and footsteps coming after her.

The nape of her neck prickles. She deliberately puts off the moment of turning around and facing the man; the man she has thought about way too often over the past year. Her ghost.

“Need any help?”

Now she has to turn around; she can no longer pretend she hasn’t noticed his presence.

His eyes are gentle, his face kind. He’s taller than she remembered. Younger-looking too, now that he’s clean shaven.

“Ah, no thanks. I just…” Great, now she has to come up with an excuse.

Jack tilts his head on one side appraisingly.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You haven’t been verbally abusive to me.”

She gives a weak snort. “That what you want? I haven’t been abusive to you, have I?”

“Well, no,” he admits. He wants to say but, she can see it in the way he observes her.

“Actually, I…” she begins, haltingly, “I need some fresh air.” She turns towards the front door.

“I’ll join you,” Jack says.

“Um…” she says, “I think I’d rather just go home.”

“Want me to walk you home?” Jack asks, and she pauses. “For old times’ sake?”

Her chest tightens at his words. She plays them over and over in her head, trying to decipher them. They seem innocent on the surface, but Jack is an actor – and a man.

“Look,” she begins, suddenly afraid that she’s reading too much into it. “...Yeah. Sure. But, Jack?”

“Mmm?”

Her brain seems to have deserted her.

“I’m…” No, you can’t lie that you’re in a relationship. It’ll be mortifying when it turns out you aren’t.

He stares at her from under his eyelashes, keen.

“Nevermind. Let’s just go.”

She grabs her jacket and mittens.

“Now?” Jack asks.

“Yeah. I have work tomorrow, anyway.”

And so they go back to wish Rebecca a happy birthday one more time before setting off.

It’s a half-an-hour walk from Rebecca’s to her place. They don’t talk much on the way. It’s a clear night; the weather is only slightly better than it was last time – chilly, but no rain.

“You still live here?” Jack asks as they approach her street.

“I do.”

It’s frightening in a way how nothing has changed in a year; like there ought to be some outward signs of the growth she’s gone through, but there aren’t.

Soon she’s standing outside her door while Jack is a couple of feet away on the pavement, looking up at her. It doesn't seem like he wants to come in.

That can only mean one thing – he’s got a girlfriend.

“Thanks for walking with me,” she says.

“Don’t mention it,” Jack replies.

“So are you going home tomorrow?”

“Actually, no,” he says. “We’ll have the premiere the day after tomorrow.”

“Here?”

“Yes. In Edinburgh.”

Well, shit.

“Right. Makes sense,” she mutters.

Jack frowns, giving her a questioning look.

“Well…” she says, “Gie it laldie.”

A small smile breaks on his face.

“I will.”

She doesn’t want to go in, but the silence is dragging on, and she doesn’t want to deal with the realisation of how awkward their relationship has turned over the year. She doesn’t suppose she’ll see Jack again – if she does, it’s because their friends have forced them to; and when they do meet, she’s sure Jack will have a pretty woman on his arm, and she’ll end up beating herself up again for investing feelings in a man.

“I guess I’ll go now,” she says, turning towards the door.

Jack has fixed her with a knowing stare, his forehead furrowed. He could say several things, but instead the only thing he utters is, “Good night.”

“Mm. Good night,” she replies. Then she slips inside.

***

Her body is heavy when she wakes up the following morning. It’s still dark outside, with rain pattering against the windows.

The bus to work is packed and smells of wet dog, despite there being no dogs, wet or otherwise, aboard.

There are only two kinds of days at work – those when she has too much to do and she ends up working overtime, and those that she spends just twiddling her thumbs and pretending to look busy.

And through all this, she just keeps thinking about how unappealing and dull her life is compared to Jack’s; how unappealing and dull she is. She’s just not enough for him, and he’ll learn it soon, if he doesn’t know already. What makes her even more miserable is that she cares. She should know better than to seek validation from men.

At any rate, she’s glad that she didn’t invite Jack in last night; had she done so, she’d be twice as messed up now. A part of her tells her it would’ve been worth it. She would like nothing better than to throttle that part of her.

The sun has long since set by the time she heads home, hands deep in her pockets as she’s forgot her mittens at the office. Another mile left.

There’s a hole in her leather shoes, and the water soaks through her sock as she splashes up the street. She can’t get home soon enough.

But when her street stretches out in front of her, she comes to a halt. She spots a lone figure with an umbrella hanging round outside her door – and she knows at once who it is.

Her heart has started racing. Suddenly her hands and feet are burning, as are her cheeks. Jack is the last person she wants to see right now – tired, soaked, and with a splitting headache.

A vision of him naked flashes across her head, and she can’t help but wonder if Jack is seeing her naked with his mind’s eyes. As if this wasn’t awkward enough.

There’s nothing for it. She sticks up her chin and fakes assertiveness as she makes for the door. It’s no use – her skin flushes hot the second he clocks her.

“Well well well,” she begins, pausing at the doorstep. “What have we got here?”

Grinning, Jack climbs down the steps – self-assured, relaxed, still so handsome – or perhaps not handsome, but inexplicably and frustratingly sexy. Especially so when he speaks.

“Did you miss me?” he asks, and she can’t help it; she has to bite down on her lip not to break into a grin as well. She couldn’t have imagined smiling today, it’s been such a shitty day. Not that it means anything; Jack has always had the gift of making women smile.

“It’s hard to miss you when you never leave me alone,” she quips, much to Jack’s amusement.

“I, um…” he begins, rubbing the back of his head. “I wanted to have a chat with you. Face to face. But if this isn’t a good time…”

“It’s okay,” she says quickly, feeling much more tolerant of Jack than she did a minute ago.

“You’d better come in,” she says to Jack as she walks past him and fishes for her keys in her bag. “I’m not sure if I want to know how long you’ve been here.”

“About fifteen minutes,” Jack answers without being prompted. “I asked Rebecca when you get off.”

She shakes her head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Clever. Though I don’t know if I prefer that to you waiting outside my door all day.”

She unlocks the door, steps back to let her guest enter first.

But Jack says, “After you,” and brushes her back with his hand. She can’t feel it through her thick coat, but the touch sends her shivering.

They step into the flat, and she immediately curses herself, because when she left for work this morning, she wasn’t expecting to be entertaining guests in the evening – there’s a pile of dishes in the sink, empty coffee mugs on the kitchen table, clothes strewn across the sofa, accompanied by her laptop and an assortment of cords. And when she takes off her shoes, she sees that both her socks are soaked.

“Gimme a sec, I need to get changed,” she mutters, and heads for the closet.

A minute later, Jack is still standing by the front door, minus his jacket and shoes.

Reluctantly she turns to Jack, steeling herself for whatever is coming. Again, she’s amazed by how big Jack seems in her flat. She decides she’ll just let him say his piece. If she doesn’t interfere, she can do nothing wrong. His stare is a bit more serious than it was outside, and she prefers this. She doesn’t think she’d be able to cope with a wisecracking Jack right now.

He starts off by apologising. “I didn’t mean to barge in on you or anything – you’ve obviously had a long day at work and everything – but, um…”

He runs his hand through his hair, looks down. The ringing silence makes her aware of the butterflies in her belly. When he finally speaks, his voice is absolutely sincere: “I’ve thought about you, Eilidh. A lot. All year.”

Her head is spinning; as if there was no oxygen in the room.

“And if you wanted it to be a one night stand, then I’m fine with it,” he continues. “But I’ve gotta ask.”

She’s most definitely not breathing now. She’s in such a shock that she’s unable to speak for a while.

The last time she had it going for her was six months ago when she was dating Daisy. The irony wasn’t lost on her when Daisy told her three months into the relationship that she’d got feelings for a man. But at least Daisy had the backbone to break it off. She has been very closed off ever since. Or maybe she shut down the last time Jack was here, in her flat. She hates the cliché she’s become.

She heaves a sigh, shrugs. “It’s not that easy, Jack.”

“Why not?” Jack asks – he isn’t being confrontational, just maddeningly straightforward.

“We’re adults, aren’t we?” she retorts. “We can’t always have what we want.”

Jack takes a small step closer to her – he’s still at an arm’s length, but she can barely look at him.

“If you want me to go, I will.”

She shakes her head again, gives a small, resigned laugh.

“You’re an evil man, Lowden,” she mutters.

“Why?” he asks softly, and his voice makes her tremble.

“Putting it all on me,” she replies. “Making me do all the thinking.”

He takes a step closer, and now she can feel his body heat, and God, she can’t think straight. Not at all. She looks up at him defiantly, almost flinching under his stare. He spreads his arms, welcoming her to him. And she goes; brings her body against his, slides her arms around his back (which is so much broader than women’s). They elide into one another, and Jack’s warmth makes her forget about the cold, damp November outside.

“I’m gonna help you,” Jack offers as they part, and she tenses slightly, not knowing what’s coming. But he merely says, “Do you want to kiss me?”

She blinks at him dumbfoundedly, then lets out a chortle. He has an inkling of a crooked grin on his face, a glimmer in his blue eyes. His stance is bold, as if saying, Here I am. Take me. She feels lightheaded and helpless, not least because she knows that that’s exactly what she wants to do.

Jack huffs gently. “I’m sorry, but you’d think it’d be easy to say no. You want to kiss me, don’t you?” It’s a statement, devoid of mockery and flirtatious teasing. Just a plain statement of facts.

Once again they find themselves here, in her flat, suspended from time and space, and for a minute she can do nothing as she’s reeling from all the thoughts and questions racing through her brain.

She hesitates, but finally she nods. Jack’s gaze lands on her mouth.

“Then do it.”

Slowly, she cups his face; baby-smooth, clean-shaven face. Her pulse is so loud in her ears that if Jack said another word, she wouldn’t hear it.

Dimples appear on his cheeks as he smiles. She runs a thumb across, in awe at the discovery, like an archeologist unearthing bones from the Stone Age.

She moves her face up towards his, this time startled by the lack of beard – but when their lips finally touch, it feels like coming home. She thought – feared – that they’d never do this again.

The kiss blends into the next, and soon she tangles her fingers into his hair, pulls him close, and he moulds himself to her, hands on her waist. She pulls away, presses her face to his chest, starts backing him across the room to where her bed is. Jack complies readily, smirking with satisfaction and laughing into her hair.

They stumble into bed, Jack on top of her, though she promptly squirms away from beneath him; she wants to be able to kiss him properly; to lay her body on his chest. Their legs entangled, she climbs up his body until their noses touch, and their mouths are lined up.

Her hair falls around them like a veil. He brushes it off, taking in her face. He likes what he sees; the creases appear around his eyes, the dimples on his cheeks as he smiles up at her.

“I missed you.”

She feels a lump in her throat; she has to look away.

“Damn you, Lowden.”

It’s the exact answer that he was looking for. Instead of turning her head to face him, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. His breath fans the top of her head.

“That’s more like it.”

She gives a quiet chuckle, relieved, though that small burst of joy threatens to bring all emotions to the surface. This is no time for tears; she blinks furiously.

Cautiously she lifts her head, reaches up for him. He can probably see the wet glimmer in her eyes, but he won’t mind. Their lips lock in another soft kiss, which grows deeper with each nip, each breath.

Finally she extends her arms and pushes herself up. Jack’s big, warm hands are trailing up her sides, over her ribs. Taking a detour, they move over to her front and gently cup her breasts. The touch sends a spark straight to her groin.

“So that’s what you came here for,” she snarks.

In an answer, he lets out a half-chuckle, half-growl.

“These certainly don’t hurt,” he says, and flicks his thumbs over her nipples.

She gives an involuntary shiver. The heat between her legs is getting unbearable. To avail it, she allows Jack’s leg between hers.

He starts unbuttoning her white dress shirt. His eyes widen briefly. She glances down. Oh, right – she’s wearing a black lace bra. The only one she owns, in fact.

“It’s for work,” she explains hastily.

“You think I’m complaining?” Jack replies. “Must be my lucky day.”

She lets out a snort. “What about me? Will it be my lucky day as well?”

Jack sits up, taking off his sweater and t-shirt. Her throat is suddenly dry; she wasn’t expecting him to have bulked up – nothing extreme, but his muscles are without doubt more defined than she remembers.

She clears her throat and says, “Yup, it’s mine too.”

“Wanna see some more?” Jack asks, his tongue peeking out between his teeth.

She doesn’t trust herself to speak, so she merely nods.

“You’ll have to get off my leg then, darling,” he says in a knowing tone.

Blushing slightly, she does as she’s told (though she hates losing the lovely friction), and Jack takes off his remaining clothes.

She feels short of breath all of a sudden; her heart is erratic. She climbs off the bed and goes to the bathroom, returning with a condom.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to do anything, y’know.” Jack’s voice is low and raspy, and the butterflies in her belly are going haywire.

“It’s not that,” she says. “I want you like mad, Lowden. I must be mad to want you.”

A burst of laughter fills the room temporarily. Then Jack’s brows knit together in apparent worry. He inches closer, cradles her cheek.

“I can come back some other day.”

She appreciates the sentiment, but it sounds exceedingly unrealistic. No – it’s now or never.

“No,” she murmurs. “I want you now.”

He gives a quiet chuckle. “Good.”

And so she unclasps her bra and shimmies out of her undies.

He pulls her on top of him.

“Making me do all the work, huh?” she whispers against his mouth.

“Thought you might like it.”

“You’re not wrong,” she quips, reaching down between them, where his arousal is pressed against her pubic bone. Jack tenses beneath her, holds his breath.

“You know what?” she says, stopping.

“What?”

“I don’t like this.”

Jack looks visibly nervous. “Like what?”

“This,” she says, gesturing in the air between them. “Too much distance.”

Comprehension dawns on Jack’s face, followed by relief.

“Oh. Really?” he says. “What do you suggest then?”

She lowers herself down on her side, next to Jack, wraps her other leg around the small of his back.

“Better?”

“Much better,” she says, cradling Jack’s face. They’re chest to chest, forehead to forehead, just as she wants them to be. She guides him inside carefully.

The position doesn’t leave any arms free for Jack, and while she could reach down and touch herself, she doesn’t want to. It doesn’t matter all that much just then. She wants to commit as much of this to memory as possible – no haze clouding her mind this time.

There’s a point when Jack notices this. He looks her in the eyes, a thin sheen of sweat on his temples.

“You okay?”

She nods, but he still seems confused.

“Are you coming?” she asks.

With a bewildered chuckle, Jack says, “I’m getting there. You sure you don’t want…”

“Yeah. No need to wait for me.”

While Jack doesn’t seem entirely satisfied with her answer, he accepts it; and soon his forehead furrows and his eyes flutter shut. He comes with a stuttering gasp, and she runs her fingers through his sweaty hair while he rides out his orgasm.

His mouth looks for hers, and the kiss that follows is lazy but burning hot.

“I missed you so much.”

She smirks. “You told me that already.”

“It bears repeating,” Jack murmurs.

He gets up with supreme effort and goes to dispose of the condom. She’s glad to have him back in bed, for her room feels startlingly cold without him next to her.

“Sure you don’t want me to…” Jack begins as he puts his boxers back on and stretches out on the bed.

“It’s okay,” she assures.

Jack nuzzles his face in her tousled hair. She closes her eyes at the sensation.

“How’ve you been?” he asks after a moment.

“The same as always,” she replies, smiling a little. “Still in the same job, still headed nowhere, but at least I’m making a decent amount of money while doing it.”

Jack gives an appreciative chuckle. “Sounds lovely.”

“Yeah well, it beats being a film star,” she says, and shakes with Jack’s body as he bursts out laughing.

“What’s it like living your life?” she asks back.

“It’s all right,” Jack says matter-of-factly.

He runs his fingers through her hair, and she feels lazy and soft. It isn’t until he stops that she can ask a hard question.

“What are you doing in my bed, though?”

Jack tenses next to her.

“What do you mean?”

“You could have any woman you wanted. Doesn’t make sense for you to go after me – at least not exclusively. Why aren’t you out there, pulling girls?”

“I tried it, I admit. But it didn’t…” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t for me.”

“What’s this then?” she asks, pointing at the two of them.

Jack’s expression turns serious. “I dunno. What would you like this to be? Or are you still only seeing women?”

The truth is, she doesn’t know. She admits as much to him.

Jack seems to know he’s hit a nerve, because he hurries into reassuring her: “You don’t have to decide now.” Then he props himself up on his elbow, and begins to climb down her body, peppering her chest and belly with kisses.

“Where do you think you’re going, Lowden?” she asks, a grin playing on her face.

“I’m not letting my girl go unsatisfied,” he replies.

My girl. The words are pulling her in a dozen different directions, but the flutter in the pit of her belly doesn’t lie.

And so Jack parts her legs, arranges the duvet under her butt for better access. Having had his release already, he clearly isn’t in a hurry. He takes his time, makes her wait; at last she feels his hot breath on her slick skin.

It’s slow and erotic, as if they had all the time in the world; he’s patient but determined. His mouth and fingers take turns in coaxing her orgasm out of her. Soon she finds her hand gripping Jack’s hair and the other one squeezing the sheets.

Her climax ebbing away, she relaxes onto the mattress, replete with satisfaction which, to her surprise, is both physical and emotional.

Jack leaves her for a minute to catch her breath. When he returns he has a shirt on, but he runs a thumb across his lip, and she feels a tremor low in her belly. He collapses beside her, looking straight at her, though she can’t quite answer the gaze just now.

“Cold?” he asks, covering her with the duvet. She appreciates the gesture – at least it hides her naked body.

He leans over, plants a kiss on her shoulder – just like he did last time. She still isn’t sure what it means.

“You’ve been looking as if you’ve seen a ghost,” he mutters.

She makes a hum in the back of her throat. “That ghost gives great head, I’ll give him that.”

Jack gives a naughty giggle, draping an arm around her. She could easily drift off to sleep right now. Even her headache is gone and replaced by a pleasurable haze.

When the afterglow has stretched on long enough, and the fog in her head has settled, she clears her throat. “I’ve been thinking… about what you just said.”

“God, you weren’t supposed to think, darling,” Jack interjects, kissing her shoulder again.

“You asked me if… if I’m only seeing women still.”

Jack pauses and looks up at her.

“I… could make an exception?” she goes on, a little breathlessly. Her blood is racing again. She’s afraid to turn her head and meet Jack’s gaze, but it needs to be done.

His gaze is inquisitive; he’s scrutinising her, to make sure she’s serious. He seems to find no lie on her face, as the corners of his mouth curve into a gentle smile.

“You’re lucky that I’m good with long-distance relationships,” she adds – only then realising that she has said the R word, despite Jack never mentioning anything about a relationship. Her cheeks are burning, and she turns her face away. Shit.

“I’d be lucky to have you in the first place,” Jack murmurs, putting her at ease.

“Nah, you wouldn’t,” she retorts, encouraged and emboldened once again. “Honestly, it should be me who’s lucky. You’re probably drowning in pussy. Me, not so much.”

She earns a chuckle and a resigned shake of head from Jack.

“There’s no need for you to keep me at arm’s length, you know,” he says.

She falls quiet.

“There’s no shame in saying you want this,” he says. “That you want me.”

She mutters under her breath, “Who would want a relationship with your smug arse?”

“See? That right there,” Jack interrupts, a slightly exasperated smile on his face. He touches her chin, gently turning her face to him. “Didn’t you tell me a year ago that we’re too old to play games?”

She’s quiet for a beat. “Yeah. I did.”

“I know what you’re doing, love. I know because I do it too. But there’s no shame in being serious.”

Jack’s eyes are heavy on hers. Her heart is beating so wildly in her chest that she’s dizzy.

“If I date you, does it mean I have to start wearing make-up and lace underwear?”

“Well, I’ve never seen you wear make-up – as far as I know – and as for the lace underwear, I don’t care what you’re wearing as long as it comes off quickly,” Jack answers.

She bursts into giggles.

“So – do you want me or not?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice thin. “I want you, Jack fucking Lowden.”

A twinkle lights up his heavy eyes.

“And you? Do you want me?” she asks in turn.

“I do,” Jack says. “Thought it was obvious.”

She exhales, realising that she’s been holding her breath all this time.

“But I swear I’ll blight your crops and sour your milk if you’re having me on, Lowden,” she adds.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jack replies.

They hold one another’s gaze. Jack is about to bend his head down for a kiss, but she dodges it and rolls on top of him, pinning him down onto the mattress.

“Come back after the premiere,” she says.

His face furrows in question.

She continues, “I’ll have made up my mind by then.”

That’s what she says, but of course she has already made up her mind – she just needs to be sure of Jack.

He can see this for what it is – a challenge. But he accepts it.

“All right.”

She gives an approving nod of her head, and climbs off him.

Jack sits up. “Well,” he says with a sigh, “I guess that’s my cue to exit, right?”

She pauses for a moment. “N-not necessarily, no.”

Jack stares at her questioningly.

Her voice is tiny when she elaborates: “You can stay the night. If you want.”

And he does.

***

She’s had butterflies in her belly ever since Jack left her side the following morning. The day feels excruciatingly long, as if it wasn’t passing at all. She forces herself to eat and to go to bed, though sleep keeps evading her way up till 3 am.

But she must have fallen asleep at some point, because she’s jolted out of her slumber by her phone ringing, and when she opens up her eyes, it’s broad daylight.

She drops the phone as she sees the name on the screen.

“Shit!”

It keeps ringing. She picks it up with trembling hands, and clears her throat:

“Yeah?”

“Did I wake you?”

Her belly does a somersault at the familiar voice.

“Um, yeah, but it’s okay,” she says, climbing out of bed. “What’s up?”

“Can you let me in, or should I wait?”

She pauses, one leg tangled in her pajama pants. Then it hits her.

She makes her way to the front door.

“You’re here?” she asks, incredulous but dizzy with joy.

“I can come back later.”

She unlocks the door, discovering a man standing outside it with a phone to his ear.

Slow grins spread across their faces as they look at one another.

“Morning,” Jack says.

“Good morning, Lowden,” she answers, and lowers her phone.